Bittersweet.

Bittersweet Surprises.

Hermione stared at the large door of the washroom for a long time after he left, not trusting he was gone. But when he didn't come back after what must have been a quarter of an hour at least, she finally looked down at the water and picked up the impossibly soft flannel hanging over the edge of the claw-footed tub, embroidered with the emerald Malfoy crest, of course.

She soaked it in water and gave a gentle rub on her forearm experimentally, back and forth and the cloth dragged on her skin, scratchy yet cleansing. Once she felt the sensation and saw all the dirt coming off, she started scrubbing hard. She washed herself with urgency, rough and merciless against her own skin.

She wanted to block the images that plagued her away forever. Between watching Harry die and Death Eater's faces, she would take the Death Eaters horrid masks. It was of the many terrifying visions she saw when she dreamt- or rather, when she had nightmares.

It seemed everyone was in the Great Hall. But as soon as Harry and Voldemort began their duel, everyone stopped. Mainly because the Death Eaters held them all back, made them watch.

Lucius had restrained her and Luna Lovegood, his arm curled around each of their necks, holding them to him tightly and not giving them access to their wands, or very much air. She was forced to witness the duel and wasn't allowed to help Harry at all, just claw helplessly at the Death Eater's arm.

He had been trying so hard. Harry had actually cast the Killing Curse and filled the room with blinding green light. She could see others' faces, illuminated as they gazed in wonder, Order members, Hogwarts staff and students, and Death Eaters alike.

She could see the sweat dripping off of him, Voldemort reflected in his glasses, the shake in his knees and elbows as he fought to hold him off or kill him- or both.

But after what felt like hours of struggle, Harry did not win. With a burst of power and help from Nagini Voldemort sent another shot of Avada Kedavra at Harry that went straight into his scar. Unlike Sirius, Harry had screamed. He rose about fifty feet into the air as the curse coursed through him, the lightning bolt scar glowing as emerald as his eyes.

And then he fell. Hermione was fleetingly reminded of the time in their third year when he fell off his broomstick at the Quidditch match because of the Dementors, but then Dumbledore had been there to save him. The thud of his lifeless body landing on the Gryffindor table would echo in her ears until the day she died.

She couldn't believe he was really just… gone. Somehow, no matter how clever and logical her mind was, she had never fathomed Harry losing. It wasn't supposed to end that way, after all.

Ron tried to attack Voldemort while everyone was distracted, but Severus Snape grabbed him and held him. The former professor had looked as if he were about to cry; if such a thing were possible.

Then they were all locked in the House Elves' quarters for weeks on end, made to await their fate, or ruin, so they had thought appropriately. For endless hours she had stayed huddled in the tiny room with most of her school mates and teachers and some Order members, forced to endure the tempers and torture of Wormtail and the Death Eaters, with no food and little water. Ron was with her, but they barely spoke to one another even in the small windows of opportunity they had, too shocked to even discuss what to do. Some would attempt escaping but Apparition was not possible, they had all been de-wanded so breaking through the heavily warded doors was not an option, and there was no other way out of the small residence of the House Elves.

The ever-resilient Hermione Granger lost her hope, her faith in humanity, her dignity. The Death Eaters were ruthless at times; they were not allowed to touch them in the most extreme ways, but they certainly got away with a lot and she had to urgently bury memories that stirred ignominy and humiliation in her. She could only imagine how the others felt as well, for no one was spared the wrath of the Dark Lord's disgusting underlings.

All that time, waiting anxiously to find out what was to become of them; whether they would live as prisoners or die like all the others… but after an extended period of time the Death Eaters would reveal things, in their own little ways.

Although all the Death Eaters targeted them in their own ways for being Harry's best friend, Wormtail held a particular grudge over Hermione and Ron and they spent the most time cowering under his wand, much to their sheer resentment. As the days dragged on he was petulant and jealous over something, hinting about her former Potions professor and the last Malfoy. It was no secret the Professor was highly regarded by the Dark Lord, and Lucius was one of the most prized Death Eaters among their circle, coming from one of the oldest Pureblood families in history only enhanced his ranking.

It was possible they were going to given to Death Eaters, and all signs pointed to the two most renowned dark wizards she knew. The very notion filled her with such dread that she shut down all functions but basic survival. Ron tried to talk to her, but she did not respond. The Death Eaters tried interrogating, beating, cursing her but she did not react.

Would it never end? If by some miracle she came out of this war alive, would she still never sleep restfully? This past would follow her, she was sure of it. As she sat in the rapidly-cooling water she mused if it wouldn't be better to die here than to move on living in constant fear, relentless paranoia, unsure of her fate.

Hermione grimaced at what she just thought. She knew it wasn't true.

More than anything, she wanted her freedom back. She wanted to one day walk the streets of London again, to have her wand back in her hand, to read books, to start a career; everything she had planned before. She wanted it all back- everything- but most of all she just wanted Harry back.

She bit down on her lip at his memory, one of the most painful of all; she simply must stop thinking about the war and her life now. It would drive her mad if she kept doing it. She forced all thoughts of the past and future from her brain and tried to focus on just the current moment. If she could do that every day, she thought there might be a chance that she could make it out of this with her sanity intact.

But as she mused over the events of the day 'doom' was the farthest thing from her mind. Whatever she had expected as Lucius Malfoy led her away for the first time from the Dark Lord's new fortress… what had just transpired was not even close to her imaginings.

She dropped the rag and leaned back against the porcelain tub and relaxed herself further into the water, inhaling the sweet, English Rose aroma that was lingering in the air.

After looking about the room and listening hard, making sure Mr. Malfoy or his House Elf wasn't around, she cried. She really cried for the first time in months, for as long as she could remember since Harry died, ducking her head under the water so she didn't feel or hear her tears, the proof of her own foolish weakness.

The loss of Harry, the triumph of Voldemort, all her deceased or captured friends, the cruel torture of Wormtail and the other Death Eaters, and now she was owned by none other than Lucius Malfoy—it was simply too much.

However, Lucius had greatly surprised her by far. He was not as he seemed, she had found out tonight, or maybe he was very adept at hiding it—either way, it profoundly unsettled her. His eyes were as silvery as his platinum hair and he showed a genuine interest in her; never, not once did he call her a Mudblood. It was bizarre, to the say the least and was only what she expected given their… history.

The way he had acted… she began to wonder if it was because of the deaths of Draco and Narcissa, if the shock of losing his family made him… softer. She hadn't been there when her school rival was murdered by the Dark Lord, but she was present when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse instantly upon Lucius' wife after seeing Harry alive. The look of pure anguish that contorted his features was uncharacteristic to say the least, and Professor Snape seemed to remind him of this, vanishing Narcissa's body so Lucius could not focus and dwell on it before the Dark Lord turned back to them. That was the first time she really witnessed the relationship between the two men, finding it strange yet sweet at the time the way her former Potions Master severely embraced the broken man- the haggard image of a once regal Pureblood wizard. Shaking him, trying to rattle sense into him as he murmured into his ear, but what he was saying she would never know.

She frowned at her musings. This was the man who helped Draco kill Albus Dumbledore and the father of the boy who bullied her mercilessly throughout her schooling at Hogwarts. But the facts she knew about them were not aligning with their actions. No, Lucius Malfoy would never willingly be nice to her, no matter what happened to him- of course not. How could she have been so daft, so hopeful?

He was trying to deceive her- that was it, she realized, feeling insipid and embarrassed that she had revealed so much to him, it was just… it had been so peaceful, in a way to talk at length while someone listened, actually engrossed in her words. Reliving her past was not as painful as she would have thought; at the time she had even been at ease, recalling fond memories of her parents and Ron and Harry and everything they went through together. Saying it aloud, reaffirming that it happened soothed her, but now an inkling of dread was settling into her bones.

It all made perfect sense now.

'Tell me about yourself, Miss Granger,' she mocked his voice in her head. Fuming at her own imprudence, she collected herself and reassessed the situation. It was obvious he had been trying to lure her into thinking she was safe with him for some unjustifiable end, most likely for his own twisted pleasure.

Before the war started he was the Pureblood advocate, a Slytherin Lord, exuding centuries of wealth with his mouth attached to the former Minister, Cornelius Fudge's ear to ensure his influence. When he was sent to Azkaban and word of his Death Eater status became public knowledge he undeniably fell from grace. She knew this when she saw him after being brought to his home by the Snatchers. He was not the picture of perfection she remembered so clearly, but Voldemort's victory in the war had obviously elevated his position once more.

The man who had kneeled in the room of the once Great Hall amongst the Dark Lord's favored Death Eaters he looked as if he had never suffered the loss of his wife and only son, on no account did it seem he endured the cruel torment of the Dark Lord after he never even endured a year in Azkaban. His eyes had remained on her throughout Voldemort's speech where he prattled on about their accomplishments, 'heroic' deeds, and his swelled pride for his followers. She learned in the House Elf quarters being given a human slave from the opposition was considered the highest award for loyalty for some sick significance she would never understand. But he gifted each of his Death Eaters in turn, after he called the name of the slave the man came forth, collared him or her, and escorted them out of the room.

When Voldemort addressed Snape and awarded him with Ron, her almost-lover was enraged and fought wildly. Hermione tried to contain him, to protect him from getting hurt, but the Dark Lord himself forced them apart, hexing Ron and making him go still. She watched with a breaking heart as he left the room with his hated former professor but her attention was drawn back as Voldemort continued, turning and standing before Lucius.

When he spoke to Hermione personally, she barely recalled what he had said; only registering the word 'Mudblood' every so often as she cowered in fear. This was the wizard who had killed her very best friend, and countless others at that, and for some reason she was kept alive out of all the other Muggleborns who had the misfortune to cross their paths before.

He evidently expected Malfoy to be displeased when he named her his slave. He baited Lucius, testing him or something, but if the blonde wizard deplored his gift he did, and continued to, mask it carefully as he simply said, "Thank you, My Lord," like all the others and came around to collect her, magically sealing the collar around her neck.

Hermione wiped her eyes, glaring down at the dispersing pink bubbles as if they were Lucius Malfoy himself… the horrible bastard. She sharply recalled all of the Malfoy's contempt of Muggles and Muggleborns before, so why did he give her the impression he was not bothered by her now?

Still, the way he had looked so interested in her was quite alarming, even if it was a façade. She could only assume it was all part of his ultimate plan, whatever that may be. Well, one thing was for sure and that was she would not let him break her- never. She didn't know what was in store for her but for now all she could do was take his word that he would treat her well and hope that he meant it, but she would never let her guard down again.

Hermione sighed and got up slowly, letting the water drain and refill with cleaner water. Bribery or not, she wanted to make good use of this bath while she could because she didn't plan on accepting any more kindnesses from him.

By the time she was finished, it had been well over an hour by her calculated estimate. She would have expected to see him by now, tired of waiting and impatient but he was not even looming outside the door as she dried off. The towels and matching robe were very soft and she wrapped the robe around her when she was dry and tied it tight against her.

She tried to put everything back to where it belonged, but couldn't remember exactly where it all went. She didn't really know Lucius, and he might expect that sort of thing from her. As much as she didn't want to obey, she didn't want to be caused any more pain than necessary. She thought that was fair.

Taking a steadying breath, Hermione ascended the stairs and started a slow, measured walk down the hallway with the air of someone approaching their gallows. Ignoring the prejudiced whispers of the portraits in the hallways she pressed on, following Lucius' instructions until she reached the top of the stairs.

Most of the doors appeared to lead to ordinary rooms, all dark mahogany between the paneled walls and shut tightly, but she noticed one just at the end of the hall, opposite of the door meant for her and before Lucius' door on the left that caught her eye.

There was silver 'D' on the door shaped by a snake that starting at the tail moved downward in a vertical line, curved at the body, and rounded up where the head met the tail. It was Draco's room- it had to be. Not only was there the letter but there was also a poster of the Bulgarian Quidditch team hung perfectly straight a few inches below the 'D.' Hermione felt a sting of nostalgia for the bully she grew up with.

It wasn't that she ever liked Draco, quite the opposite- but it was plain to Hermione and any other close observers that he had been dragged into the war and made to become Death Eaters because of his father's mistake at the Department of Mysteries. After all, he had failed to kill Dumbledore numerous times and then Snape stepped in for him. That had to be when the Malfoy family started spiraling downward, undergoing their own especially horrendous punishment.

But Lucius was the lone survivor now and if there were any residual scars from what he had suffered, he hid it well. She turned from the door and took a step forward, to the one in the middle marked with an 'L' just like Draco's had been which could only mean Lucius' room. As she stared at the door, she focused on the frame and was surprised to find it slightly open.

Did he do it on purpose- did he want her to go in? Hermione shook her head at the sudden unwarranted thought. Why would he do that? What could it possibly mean?

No. She backed away from the door, turning to the door on her right. He had brought her up here earlier in the night but hadn't taken her inside. She had been so frightened by everything she hadn't noticed before there was also a marking on her door.

It was an 'H' of course, but rather than a snake which would have looked out of place and would not have been remotely fitting, twisted vines formed the shape of her initial, with tiny buds flowering on them. It was nothing exceptional, not special at all, but even the thought of Lucius making it up for her somehow made her stomach tighten as she turned the handle soundlessly.

The room was large, exceeding any and all expectations she had when the word 'bedroom' came into mind. It was so much more than that, filled to the brim with things she had a hard time taking in. The bed itself was lavish, covered in white satiny sheets that felt like silk under her touch. There were couches and furniture setting up a small sitting area next to a fireplace, a beautifully decorated teapot stood in the corner, a large vanity boasted a wide array of lotions and even some potions, she noted, and various tiny, vibrant perfume bottles.

There was a distinct absence of portraits, much to her relief but as she looked about the impressive area she couldn't help feeling unwanted, a trickle of unease sliding down her spine. She didn't belong here, in this room. Why would he let her stay here?

There was everything any normal young woman could ever want, but there was something sacredly personal about the room that disturbed her.

Could it be… had it been Narcissa's room?

Hermione swallowed nervously and backed out of the room slowly. She couldn't sleep there even suspecting such a thing, whether it was true or not. The room Draco's mother had used and slept in… no, she wouldn't. She closed the door but didn't let go of the handle as she pondered what to do.

She supposed she could call the House Elf, Talia, which Lucius had mentioned to know for certain. Surely she would be able to confirm her suspicions and put her mind at ease. But she didn't want to… something was pulling her back towards Lucius' room, inching her closer to his door timidly.

After a short deliberation she found herself knocking softly, waiting for a response she never received. What if he was not there? Or worse, what if he was? There was no light emanating from the crack in the door. What if he became cross if she entered his bedroom without his expressed permission?

Quelling her doubts, Hermione slipped into the room, heart beating wildly and unsure of why she was there in the first place. Her eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight streaking into the room and she stepped forward quietly until she saw him.

Lucius was asleep, half-sitting up with a book fallen against his chest. A very broad, defined chest, she noted frivolously but pushed that thought away as she watched him with trepidation. She was waiting for him to spring up, catching her in the act of- whatever it was she was doing. But she did nothing and neither did he so she stood there, watching him sleep as if he didn't have a care in the world.

He had always reminded her of some kind of strange angel. Perhaps a fallen one she granted that; but with his hair draped over his shoulders and his arms splayed loosely at his sides, he looked serene, vulnerable; and the description fitted him all too well.

She saw his wand resting on his nightstand carelessly, not his usual cane wand that he carried. It was possible something had happened to it but more than wondering about Lucius Malfoy's wand she was wondering if she could do anything with it. At this moment, she could cast a hex or even use the Killing Curse on him and be free forever. All she needed to do was grab the wand and do it. It was tempting… so alluring… A delicious thought…

But would he really have allowed himself to sleep unprotected if he had meant to hurt her? Energy potions were not hard to brew, and if he really were close with Snape, it wouldn't be hard at all for him to obtain them.

No. She couldn't do that. She couldn't stoop to their level. Hermione was not that treacherous. Let Lucius have his fun, for all she cared. She couldn't escape if she tried.

Besides, where the hell would she go anyway?

Hermione approached the bed and debated on whether to sleep next to him or not. The covers were drawn so invitingly, and really she hadn't slept in a decent bed in over a year, but she didn't want to impose. She sat on the ground beside him, trembling at the feel of cold of the hardwood floors and wrapping her robe about her tighter.

She lay down, adjusted her collar to a comfortable position, and closed her eyes. It wasn't long at all before she was in a deep, undisturbed sleep.

In the first rays of morning light Lucius, as expected, thankfully woke first.

But when he opened his eyes, he was face-to-face with her sleeping one, their bodies nearly touching. He barely remembered how she had gotten there but after a few waking moments his lucidity returned to him. He spent the first few minutes while he was awake simply looking at her in slumber.

After her long bath her complexion looked much better he admitted, if not still a bit pale. Her hair was impossibly more disheveled about her head and he thought fleetingly he would need to buy her a good hairbrush. And at this angle he could see the faint red mark the magical strap was leaving on her throat.

The Mudblood Collar was its proper name. As long as she wore it she could not perform magic of any kind or even be permitted to leave the threshold of his manor. It looked like nothing more than an ordinary leather collar, something akin to what a dog might wear, but it was powerful and could only be removed by his hands or wand.

Looking at the column of her throat led him to the loosened robe around her chest and with a grimace he decided it was best to depart now rather than stay or his mind might start thinking about less prudent things than he would like. He turned away slowly so as not to wake her and slid fluidly out of the bed.

Efficiently but quietly he gathered some things and went about his morning rituals in the old room down the hall used by Narcissa, despite not liking being in the area he shared with his late wife. He suspected it was mostly nostalgia as he had a deep respect for the woman he had shared nearly twenty years of his life with.

He had changed nothing to date; hadn't removed or sold her clothes and jewelry, taken down any pictures, or put the makeup and perfumes away from their dressers. It seemed silly upon reflection, but he hadn't the time now. Perhaps later he would ask Talia to sort it.

A thought struck him so suddenly he felt dense for not realizing it before.

Had the girl not wanted the lavish room once used by his wife? At the time when he decided he would let her have it, no one else was using it and he thought nothing of it. It was merely a room that would accommodate any needs he thought she might have. But maybe there was some underlying reason for her denying the room and choosing instead to sleep on the floor beside him…

Feeling unsure, Lucius shook his head and resolved not to think about it until she was awake. When he was showered and clothed he made his way down all the stairs to his sitting room and fell gracelessly onto his duvet, by far his most favorite mode of comfort in his home. It was close to the fire, which his House Elf had already stoked and was crackling pleasantly. The Malfoy Manor had an unfailing habit of dousing the fires in favor of the chill. It was his father's doing, no doubt.

From his spot perched on the long duvet, he was positioned perfectly to look out of the window that overlooked his grounds, which currently was currently covered with morning dew and a light fog despite it still being the middle of August.

He lounged there for awhile, staring out of the window and reflecting on the previous evening.

Retrieving her from the old Hogwarts was a feat in itself; since the Dark Lord hadn't seen fit to remove the casualties of war, moreover making a ghastly, mocking display of them for all to see. At the time he told himself he was sparing her and himself from unnecessary pain later by blinding her to the horrific sight. She had already endured over ninety days of imprisonment in the House Elf quarters at the Dark Lord's new Fortress and he had no desire to add to the list of things she would need to recover from.

Ultimately, it fit into his plans that she remained fighting fit, retaining her Gryffindor bravery so he and Severus could find a way to destroy Voldemort. As much as he loathed admitting it, he needed the Granger girl now and until the day came when they were all free of the Dark Lord.

Lucius and his new charge were silent the entire time as he walked her from the Fortress, Apparated with her, and led her through the wrought-iron gates of his home. He only got as far as giving her a tour of the Manor, which really took longer than it would a normal house, before he was beckoned into his sitting room by the much needed the wine to dull the ache he felt from his long mission and newly collected 'prize.'

Since he and Severus had guessed that very predicament they found themselves in now, they had discussed through their thoughts that they would need to use their slaves to help them find a way to bring about the Dark Lord's downfall. But nothing would have prepared him for what he would feel just having Granger around him in his manor, where she should not be.

Lucius never could have planned this sudden need to protect her; she was his now, after all, regardless of neither of them wanting it they were stuck together.

The witch had spoken extensively about her life, admittedly because he had asked her to and he still wondered why he had made that spur of the moment decision and why she had given in so quickly to him. It was likely he had caught her off-guard; more so than he expected to anyway, as that had been his aim all along. Still, she talked at great length about her childhood and her friends at Hogwarts, the things that they persevered through together- all of their adventures.

The girl was… impressive. He found himself completely wrapped up in her story, marveling at her accomplishments. Perhaps that was the reason for this overwhelming urge he felt, finally understanding her history and all the things she done in her short life… he was beginning to see what people had said about her before.

But then, he had no one else in his life anymore. Ever since the aftermath of his release from Wizarding prison, the death of his family, and nearly three months of fulfilling his mission he stayed shut away in his manor for days, rarely leaving for anything that did not require his immediate, personal attention. Most of the time he simply fetched his House elf, Talia, to run errands for him and he only left his home to go the first Death Eater meeting since the Battle at Hogwarts.

In many ways, Lucius felt trapped.

If he left his Master; he would die. If he defied his Master; he would die. If he displeased his Master, he would die. But even while he stayed and obeyed his Master, he felt himself slowly dying on the inside.

With every kill, every rape, every massacre he had been forced to endure and every one he had not committed yet; he became less human. Soon he would be an empty shell, hollowed out and programmed to kill, just as before. It was true he had lived his life as a Death Eater that way for a long time, but then he had the Malfoy Curse to fall back on- a family, friends, wealth, and an occupation and influence… all just to keep him from going insane.

Essentially, he had had something to distract him then, but most importantly of all he also had the end of the war to look forward to, when he thought he would at least be free of that life.

Now he had nothing, save for Severus and his new 'slave,' a girl who would have been his son's age if he were alive, a Muggleborn no less.

Without those other things, he had nothing to occupy himself with but Voldemort and his missions. He woke up in the mornings wondering who he would have to kill, who they might capture and torture as a form of entertainment at meetings.

He woke up wondering when it was all going to end.

"Master Malfoy! Talia didn't know you were awake," Talia, his one and only House Elf, came through the room with a tiny, grey feather duster in her hands, smiling brightly.

"Talia, would you bring my breakfast into the sitting room, please? I haven't the energy to prepare it myself today," he drawled from his place, unmoving.

"Of course, Master Malfoy," the house elf bowed and scampered away towards the kitchens.

He'd long since given up mistreating the creatures. They could be very infuriating at times but he dealt with it calmly rather than resort to violence as he had in the past. House elves were very useful creatures when faithful to their owners. And Talia was a special case…

Lucius began wondering how Severus was faring with the Weasley boy, because he was given the much harder task of convincing Weasley he had not really murdered their beloved Headmaster and only ran Hogwarts more like a concentration camp than a school under the Dark Lord's orders. Trust would not be gained easily.

Yesterday morning, they had laid out their plans and agreed to put them into action as soon as they got their wards settled in comfortably. However, the previous night Lucius had not been up to the task. Instead, he decided to listen to her story. It wouldn't hurt anything, but it didn't necessarily help either, at least, in the prospect of their plans.

Lucius was not like Severus. It was true they were similar, as that was the reason they had been friends for nearly thirty years, but they played their parts differently in and leading up to the war. Severus had been a spy almost as long as he been a Death Eater. Lucius' case was a different matter entirely.

"Lucius?"

Speak of the devil.

He turned just in time to see Severus stepping through his fireplace quickly, striding into the room with near vengeance. His appearance was more disheveled than usual and his brow was already creased in irritation. Lucius braced himself.

"Do you… have some time?"

"Of course, Severus, who else do you think is capable of reaching me through the Floo network?" Lucius answered, sitting upright and making space on his duvet for his friend.

Severus was dressed in his customary black robes, but his appearance was anything but ordinary. He looked less pale than usual with pink patches darkened on his cheeks, a tell-tale sign he was either happy or angry, and at that given moment Severus looked positively the opposite of happy. Lucius looked him over and noticed a large, purple bruise surrounding the socket of his eye and a cut disappearing into his split lip.

Had the boy decked him?

"What happened to you, old chum?" Lucius asked airily, waiting for the backlash.

The former Potions Master growled at that. "Oh, do bugger off. That—that boy is more meddlesome now than he ever was in school; and do believe me when I tell you that I never thought it possible."

Oh, how glad he was to have acquired Granger rather than Weasley… the Dark Lord would never know. Lucius had to stifle a remorseful snicker by turning it into a fit of coughs but that didn't fool the dark-haired Slytherin.

"My sincerest apologies, friend," Lucius tried sounding genuine, but Severus glared at him and sniffed disdainfully as he pulled out a healing salve from the pocket of his robe to begin applying it to his face.

"Where is yours?" Severus asked resentfully, wincing at the bruise around his eye.

"Ah, I do believe Miss Granger is still in bed," he replied sinuously, just to see his reaction.

An incredulous look of shock spread across Severus' face that perfectly satisfied Lucius' dark sense of humor. If he could not make some light of the situation he would truly go mad. "Lucius, do you mean to imply you already-"

The blonde stopped him there and shook his head. "Of course not, Severus, I have told her nothing yet. She actually did most of the talking last night, once I got some wine into her."

He had expected Severus to be a little angry that he hadn't been going forth with their strategy as planned and started telling Granger his long story yet. Time was of the essence, but thankfully, Severus knew how difficult it was for Lucius to speak of it and he accepted everything without question.

"Well, that does sound like Miss Granger. So then, when are you going to tell her?" Severus asked, raking a hand through his hair and setting back onto the heavily padded couch.

Lucius shrugged. "When she is ready… I merely sensed that last night was not the time to do so. I can only presume you tried explaining things to Weasley?"

"Oh, I tried; and failed miserably, of course. I had to eventually stun to get him to stop fighting me. Strength is not the primary issue; I can overpower him by far, but when he is set in his ways…" He sighed as if he were giving up. Then he turned back to Lucius saying, "You know, Lucius, once you explain everything to her, she'll probably believe you. It may take some time, but especially if I testify to your words it won't take long. The girl is nothing if not clever and when she is on our side it will be easier for the boy to join us."

Lucius nodded. "I understand. But I would rather not test her strength as you have with Mr. Weasley. Look where it got you."

Severus glared. "I suppose this is all very humorous to you right now, isn't it? No, I've never been able to keep that blasted Golden Trio out of trouble, or keep them on my good side and this is no different and this is much worse."

"I know, it isn't funny at all," Lucius conceded, but his eyes glittered into the other wizards' flashing ones. "Hold on- did you just admit to having a good side?"

Severus sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. "Everything is such a joke to you. Do keep in mind we are discussing our lives, as well as the wellbeing of our futures and theirs. I wouldn't- If I had the choice- the boy is hardly- oh, never you mind, Lucius." Severus gave up as he stood and began pacing. Knowing Severus all too well, Lucius knew that the pacing meant he was trying to change the subject or he was very frustrated, trying to work out a solution, or in this case, both.

Lucius had spoken with Severus many times over the last year about the events at Hogwarts, and listened intently when he ranted about the 'Golden Trio.' Potter, naturally, had been his main target due to his perceived arrogance, fame, and inability to stay punished, all matters of who his mother and father were aside. Granger was next, with her incapacity to keep her mouth shut and bossiness that hindered her pursuit of knowledge, so much wasted potential. And Weasley was always last in his vexations, but there was never any reason to Severus frustration towards the young man.

"I am sorry, Severus, I do not mean to jest. Perhaps the situation has finally cracked me and the humor is finally dawning on me," Lucius explained. "But really… are you not smitten with him?"

Severus looked sulky and turned away.

But given Severus' reactions the night before and now, he was almost certain. Severus was attracted to him after all. Lucius smiled inwardly.

Then suddenly spinning on his heel, Severus rounded on him, "And you are not at all attracted to the vivacious Miss Granger?"

Lucius snorted and ignored his question. "'Vivacious' you say? She practically can't stop calling me 'Master,' for Merlin's sake. I admit I was slightly… taken aback when she told me in her own words everything she did in school. But until she is less wary of me I will not be able to sway her."

"Just you wait, Lucius," Severus warned him with a nasty smirk, "When she blossoms before you, it will be you who is her slave."

Lucius cocked an eyebrow at him, but kept silent. Given how he already was starting to feel protective over her, he couldn't say Severus would never be wrong.

"Anyway," Severus went on, "do tell her soon. I'll be handling Weasley until then and I daresay it will drain every ounce my energy." He sunk back onto the couch moodily.

"Mm," Lucius agreed with a smirk, "Man-handling is more like it."

He watched the blooming pink rise again in Severus' pale cheeks and his black, trademarked death glare darkened. To this day, Lucius remained the only man who could make Severus blush. But then, they'd known each other for twenty years.

"Lucius, that is completely inappropriate-"

"Oh, is Master Snape to be staying for breakfast too?" Talia asked as she returned to the room, holding a steaming plate of food.

Severus tugged on one of her lace bows affectionately as he replied fondly, "No thank you, Talia, I was just leaving. Until we meet again."

Lucius bit back his comment about Severus departing so soon and they clasped each other's right forearms, as they had always done since they were boys. "I will tell her soon, Severus. I'll owl you as soon as I do. Take care until then."

Severus gave him a pointed look as his eyebrow shot towards his hairline and he disappeared back into the fireplace.

"Here, Master Malfoy, it's still piping hot," Talia informed him proudly while setting his meal down on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Talia. Oh, and please do make sure there is plenty of food left for Miss Granger when she wakes. A mini-feast, if you are up to the task; she hasn't eaten well in a long while," Lucius informed her as he picked up his knife and fork and began cutting into the juicy ham steak.

The House Elf bowed smiled gleefully and left, busying her hands in the kitchen again. When the precocious creature found out there was going to be another female in the house (magical creature or not,) she became very glad. She said she would be more than happy to do anything for her new friend.

He ate his breakfast alone with no further disturbances. However, the problem with that was it made him feel quite lonesome.

Hermione woke with a start and nearly fell out of bed, forgetting what it felt like to wake up in one. After the initial shock she snuggled into it further, never wanting to lose the comforting warmth. This was probably the last time; her first and last time in a bed for a long while.

The House Elf he mentioned had not woken her like he had said she would, but she did not mind at all. She adjusted her collar from the restricting hold it had on her and stretched her limbs like a cat, arching her back and pulling her arms back. After a long soak, a lot of her muscle pain had eased.

Pulling the covers back, she groaned as the cold air hit her like a bucket of ice water. As she stood and walked around the bed, she saw a pale purple robe strewn across the mattress, a silk one unlike the bathrobe she was currently sporting. She hastily put it on admiring the way it swept the floor as she walked, not having so much covering on her body since before she could remember.

It also felt like he had placed a warming charm on the robe for her, as her gooseflesh instantly subsided. She frowned, ever puzzled by his motives as she headed downstairs, unsure of what else to do.

She saw Lucius before he saw her. He was reading, (though this time he was awake, she mused silently.) With a small cough, she alerted him of her presence.

"Miss Granger… good morning," he said only momentarily surprised and closed his book, turning to place it on the table. When he looked back around, his cold face was back and she shivered hugging her arms. She resisted the urge to sink to her knees, because he had explicitly told her not to, but what if that's what he actually wanted? It could have been a test.

She started lowering herself to her knees, but he caught her shoulder. She gasped as he touched her, in the same place he had before but the impact overwhelming her no less.

"What do you suppose you are doing?" His voice was cold, clipped, captivating.

Looking up at him through her lashes she ventured a guess, "I was… greeting you properly?"

He rolled his eyes impatiently as his lip curled into a sneer. "I've told you last night that it isn't obligatory."

Hermione looked at him skeptically before she straightened fully again. Why was he dancing around like this? Why shouldn't she treat him how she was expected to? She had learned all too well in the House Elf quarters what would happen if she did not please him…

"Are you hungry?"

His question snapped her out of her heated reverie but she didn't answer. She kept her head bowed and her eyes on her feet.

"I believe I asked you if you were hungry." His voice was dangerously low now; a razor-sharp edge laced underneath it she didn't dare to ignore.

"I-I guess so," she answered truthfully.

Lucius spun on his heel and said almost irritably, "Come on then," as he strode out of the room.

She hurried to follow him, her stomach now rumbling as it remembered the long-forgotten, delightful allure of food. She hadn't had a proper meal in ages…

Hermione saw through the door a dining room filled with a long table and countless chairs as they passed but he led her straight to the kitchen and sat her at a small table in the corner of the room with only two chairs, notably.

"Talia, will you warm breakfast for Miss Granger?"

She hadn't seen the House Elf when they walked in, but from behind the counter rounded a house elf with big purple-tinted eyes, carrying a platter filled with copious amounts of food. And though her stomach was thrilled at the sight, Hermione was more concerned and distressed over what the elf was wearing. Under the large plate, the bottom of a… what could only be a dress, pink and lacy above her not-quite-matching glossy red shoes.

Lucius Malfoy's house elf was wearing a dress. Hermione wondered what alternate universe she had woken in.

Talia wobbled over carefully, nearly dropping the food three times before Lucius took out his wand, and levitated the plate the rest of the way. "Thank you, Talia."

"Thank you, Master Malfoy." The house elf bowed, but beamed at Hermione like they were sharing a secret. The witch regarded the House Elf with a faint smile, taking in the tiny pink dress filled with bows and lace and the ruby-colored shoes. This was a far cry from the brown sack that she had known Dobby to wear years before. Talia seemed to notice she was inspecting her and fidgeted with her floppy ear. Hermione felt a rush of compassion for her and leaned down closer to her to say, "That's a lovely dress you have, Talia."

The House Elf swelled with pride and gushed, "Thank you ever so much, Miss!"

Hermione smiled kindly and thanked her herself for preparing the food. When she had already started walking away, she turned suddenly and rushed back over to Lucius, tugging on the sleeve of his robe as she whispered, "Sir? May Talia ask one thing?"

"What is it?"

"Talia finished The ABC's of Magical Mightiness book this morning while you was sleeping. May Talia pick another one later when the chores is finished?" She laced her fingers together and looked at him pleadingly.

"All the books on the bottom shelf of the library are for you, Talia. Please help yourself; just remember to keep them tidy."

The tiny House Elf looked ecstatic. "Thank you, Master Malfoy!" And she scampered away.

Hermione watched the whole ordeal with wide eyes. He… He just… had he taught his House Elf how to read? The same man who allegedly kicked Dobby across Dumbledore's office was teaching a House Elf to read, and she was wearing a dress, willingly serving him?

"Miss Granger, please eat your food before it gets cold. I don't like bothering her while she's reading," Lucius said coolly, examining his nails like they held more interest to him than her or the whole ordeal that had happened.

"This is… all for me?" She stared down at all the different foods forming a small mountain on the platter; a pile of eggs, a wide selection of breakfast meats, cinnamon toast, pancakes, and biscuits with gravy. Surely he knew she hungry, but not that ravenous.

He looked impatient again. "I already ate. You've been asleep for hours and it is already past lunchtime."

"Oh, right… sorry," she said meekly, tucking in to the table and picking up her fork, not sure where to start.

Hermione started taking small amounts of everything and filling her plate gradually; aware of his eyes on her but once she started eating she didn't much care. She tried to consume her food slowly, knowing if she ate too fast she could get sick, but that didn't stop the stomachache as she filled her starved stomach. It'd been so long since she'd really eaten. Wormtail had only given her enough crumbs to keep her alive.

"Here," he said suddenly, as if he'd forgotten, and handed her a potion when she was halfway through her meal. "It will help your digestion."

She drank, her eyes not leaving his face that almost seemed to be avoiding her now. She felt a tingle spread through her as the potion took effect, but being such a bright witch, she could taste the strengthening potion he'd mixed in it as well. It had a strong citrus flavor.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," she said quietly. This disturbed her far more than anything he'd done so far. Why would he strengthen her? Didn't he want her weak? Wouldn't it make it all the more easier for him?

He didn't respond, merely gestured to her plate in an invitation for her to resume eating.

As she chewed slowly, she contemplated all of his actions from the day before up until now. Honestly, nothing about him made sense anymore; this was not the man she had come to fear all those years ago and she had never been less scared to be in his home, despite the painful memory it held.

Tormented, she pondered what he might do next, their eyes meeting every so often until he would sigh impetuously and look away.

When she had her fill, she sat back. He didn't look up yet, but he re-examined his nails for possibly the hundredth time. Why was he just waiting for her? Why didn't he just do something; it was all about him anyway, so why would he care so much about her?

It wasn't even that he cared; he was simply doing this because he could—for fun.

"Finished?"

"Yes, sir," she responded in a whisper, and he finally looked up.

His eyes were cloudy, like he was just deep in endless thoughts. He was either planning something or hiding something- or both, she mused. She didn't really know which one it was.

On top of all that, it almost looked like he was hiding a smirk, or trying unsuccessfully to mask it. She didn't know what it could have possibly meant. She couldn't take it anymore. Pushing her plate away angrily, she burst out at him with an overwhelmed cry, "Are you going to try to fuck me or not?"