CHAPTER EIGHT

The Hogsmeade visit had gone rather well. In the first store, Hermione had found seven books that she'd really wanted to get her hands on, but the prices were entirely out of her range. She'd picked up the least expensive one and put down the rest when Lucius asked if she was ready to go. Apparently the wishful look in her eyes was all Lucius needed to try to win Hermione's favor…or so she thought. When he'd offered to purchase the other books for her, they'd first talked and then argued a bit before Hermione allowed him to buy the books for her. His argument was that despite her family's financial state after the end of a marriage, something that in this day and age was highly costly, she still deserved to live a life to which she was accustomed. Besides, he'd argued, he had more than enough money for a few books.

She'd left the book shop with a smile on her face, despite who put it there. Next, they'd gone to Honeydukes where she spent almost a full Galleon on sweets. Well, strictly speaking the Galleon wasn't hers, as once again Lucius had insisted on paying. The clock above the register had told her that she needed to be getting to the Three Broomsticks for lunch. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Andromeda since they were ambushed on the path to the village that morning, but she was sure the older witch would be there.

She was right.

Hermione and Lucius had joined Andromeda and Walden for a spot of lunch and then the quartet spent the remainder of the afternoon together. Hermione found herself laughing at Walden's jokes, enjoying the company of Andromeda, and looking upon Lucius more fondly than she could have ever imagined. By the time the day was over, she accepted that these people were in her life no matter what. She may not like Walden Macnair because of his involvement with the Buckbeak incident during her third year, but she was willing to overlook that due to his employment with the Ministry of Magic at the time. Even she had to admit that a person had to earn a living and his job at the time was as executioner. Buckbeak was deemed dangerous, unjustly so, but he was nonetheless. Walden was just doing his job.

October bled into November and Hermione found herself spending most of her time with Andromeda, Walden, and Lucius. Macnair never paid much attention to her as he only had eyes for the middle Black sister. Lucius, on the other hand, only seemed to have eyes for Hermione. There were times when Narcissa would pass by and make her position known as the future Mrs Malfoy, but Hermione didn't care. She didn't feel threatened or jealous.

Well, not really jealous. …or so she kept telling herself.

As November came to an end, Hermione started to feel as if maybe she belonged in this time. Her friendship with Andromeda didn't feel as forced as some of her friendships in her own time. Spending time with Marjorie, Serendipity, and Liz seemed natural and there were more times than not when she forgot who Avery, Wilkes, and Rabastan were to become.

Margie was incredibly smart where the social mores of pureblood society was concerned. Hermione played up the idea that she wasn't from the area and used Margie to gain a better understanding of how these Slytherins thought. She learned a great deal about the customs and practices of those she had come to know well. The more she learned, the more she likened pureblood society to that of the Victorian, or even Georgian, era. The more Hermione talked with Margie the more she came to understand how the upper crust of Wizarding Society functioned.

It wasn't all good things that she learned. While Margie explained the place of the woman in what was most certainly a male-driven society, she also divulged, albeit inadvertently, that there were a lot of laws still on the scrolls that dictated not only a woman's place in the world, but also the superiority of someone with at least four generations of magical blood. As Hermione was learning, the entire legal and governmental systems were geared toward the purebloods, rather than the muggleborns or even half-bloods. Hermione made a mental note to check into those laws when she got back to her own time, because in her opinion, that was just not right.

Serendipity, though very aloof at first, turned out to be a lot like Luna Lovegood without the belief in crazy creatures. Serendipity was very happy go lucky, really personifying the pureblood doctrine that women should be seen and not heard. When she did speak, her voice was light, airy, and almost wistful. To her, Hogwarts wasn't a place to learn, but rather a place to expand her social circle. Marks were secondary and while Hermione thought it ridiculous to attend classes and not put forth effort, even she had to respect that there was a good chance Serendipity would need nothing she learned at school. Her life was set for her, her marriage to some wizard Hermione had never heard of was assured, and Serendipity would spend the rest of her life shopping and planning tea parties.

Liz was a kindred spirit for Hermione. The two shared a passion for learning and for the written word and were often found revising together. The girls had an easy friendship, both utilizing a witty sense of humour and often telling jokes that very few people understood. They also enjoyed discussing the current groundbreaking magical discoveries, with Liz theorizing the possible implications and Hermione attempting to discuss while not divulging too much information on the future.

As for the men of Slytherin house, Hermione tried her best to stay away from them, most often to no avail. Rabastan Lestrange still started every Potions class calling her Mione, but she still refused to respond. It was only when he would address her by her proper name that she would acknowledge him. Avery and Wilkes were around as well, but she only had limited interactions with them and only when Lucius was around. There were others, too, who were most certainly Death Eaters in her time that she did everything in her power to steer clear of. If the question was raised as to why she wasn't more social, all she had to do was remind everyone that she was schooled differently back in Paris and wanted to study extra hard in order to not fall behind here at Hogwarts.

The only man she couldn't stay away from was Lucius Malfoy. He was in almost all of her classes, and it seemed as if every time she turned around outside of a classroom, he was there. She'd tried on numerous occasions to lose him in the halls and succeeded in sequestering herself away in the Room of Requirement a few times. However, that only lasted less than two weeks before he covertly followed her and entered the room before it closed off behind her.

It wasn't too bad, she'd discovered, allowing herself to study with Lucius. He was smart, incredibly so, and unlike his son, he actually applied himself to his studies rather than devoting his energies to belittling those from other Houses. They would often retreat to what she called their study room on the seventh floor and not only revise, but also get to know each other. The two would share jokes with each other, laughing over something dumb that Rabastan had done, or a non-lethal accident in Potions. They would commiserate about difficult assignments. Sometimes they would work in silence, other nights they would be loudly bouncing ideas off of each other, arguing the merits or pitfalls of this type of magic or another. It was an arrangement that Hermione couldn't have ever possibly had imagined would work, but it did.

She was shocked to discover that she was coming to really enjoy his company as much as his little quirks. When he was thinking particularly hard or reading a difficult text, his brows would crease ever so slightly and his eyes would narrow as he concentrated. As he wrote out his essays, he would often pause and run the tip of his quill along his jaw as he reread what he'd written. If he was studying something he really enjoyed, he would lean back in his seat and smile a little.

What Hermione found she liked the most was when he was ready to really get to work, he would loosen his tie, take off his outer robes, and roll up his sleeves. It was in those moments when he ceased to be Lucius Malfoy the Death Eater and just became Lucius. She could see his innocence then, his youth, and his unmarked left forearm. He applied himself to his school work as she imagined he would apply himself to his business ventures later in his life. The shrewd businessman came out and it was easy to see how his family amassed such a fortune. From what she knew of in her time, it was the investments of the Malfoy patriarch that had nearly tripled the already vast family fortunes. The investments made by one Lucius Malfoy.

It was during one such study session that Hermione abandoned her revision and spent the better part of ten minutes not so subtly observing her study partner. He was working on some Arithmancy equations and was obviously highly involved and enjoying himself. His robes had come off almost the second they'd walked through the door to the Room of Requirement. His tie quickly followed and before he was seated, his sleeves were rolled up above his elbows. As she watched him reason out the problems on parchment, she noticed the slight brushing of his quill along his jaw. Though his eyes were narrowed in concentration, there was a small smile playing about his mouth. She noticed his fingers flexing a bit, a surefire sign that he'd worked out whatever it was he was working on and was preparing to mark it down.

Hermione sat back in shock. How was it possible that she'd gotten to know him so well? No sooner had his fingers twitched before his hand was moving to the parchment. She knew his expressions, this man who was thought to be carved from stone. She could predict his moves by the subtle gestures he made. It wasn't just the flex of a finger. Hermione knew when he was holding something back, when he was preparing to speak, even when he thought something was funny but found it improper to laugh. She knew when he was upset, when he was tired, when he was pleased.

She knew that he was looking at her.

'A Sickle for your thoughts?'

Her mind was a whirl of thoughts and questions, but only one thing escaped through her lips. 'How did this happen?' At his confused look, she continued. 'How is it that I've come to know you so well? How did it happen? After everything I've done, everything I know, I've still managed to become friends with you! How?'

Lucius put down his quill and stood, sliding his chair over to sit next to Hermione. 'When you're tired,' he began, 'you rub your legs and complain that you're cold. When you're sad, you revise more and shut yourself off from everyone else. When a professor begins to ask a question, I can always tell the exact moment you figure out the answer because your eyebrows go up just the slightest bit. At meal times, you always run your fingers through your hair when you're finished eating.'

He scooted forward on his chair, bringing himself closer to her. 'When you're happy, your eyes twinkle more than the brightest stars in the night sky. Though you smile a lot, the only people you've really smiled for are Liz and myself. Even Andromeda doesn't hold that distinction. Sometimes you'll say that you don't want to talk, but your eyes plead for me to force you and so I do.'

Hermione was beside herself with surprise. It would appear that he had been watching her just as closely as she was watching him. She wondered what else he knew about her and then became a bit unsettled when she realized his proximity to her. Licking her lips, she began to wring her hands in her lap, but he reached out and stopped her.

'When you're nervous, you will fidget with your hands. Sometimes, if you're particularly bothered, you will lick your lips as you've just done. But this… This look on your face right now… I've never seen it before.'

Before Hermione had a chance to ponder her expression, Lucius had moved in closer. His left hand was cupping her face as he brought his lips to hers. The kiss was hesitant, something that she wouldn't have expected from him as he always seemed so sure of himself.

'You're thinking too much, Hermione.'

Then his hand was in her hair and his lips were more insistent upon hers. His kiss was passionate and yet surprisingly chaste. It was a simple movement of lips against lips. When he brought his mouth back to hers, she took a chance and acted impulsively. Hermione brought her tongue to the seam of his mouth only to discover that he'd chosen to do the same. The kiss turned intense for a few moments before his grip on her lessened and he backed off a little. She realized that he was giving her an option, letting her get away from him if she wanted to. Though his left hand was still tangled in her hair, he wasn't holding her there.

They'd broken the kiss and for a moment, neither said anything. They were content to lean their foreheads against the other's while their breath mingled between them. Though he'd basically told her to stop thinking, her mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions. At the forefront was the knowledge that the only other boy she'd kissed was Viktor Krum during her fourth year, and it had been NOTHING like what had just happened to her. Viktor had been sweet, almost passive in his interactions with her, and while he'd kissed her, neither had ever used their tongues. She had liked kissing Viktor, but kissing Lucius was completely different. It was…amazing

'We've been dancing around each other for weeks,' he said, breaking her from her mental trance before kissing her lightly again. 'I've tried to stay away from you, to keep things strictly platonic, but it would appear that I cannot.'

He kissed her again, full on the mouth, and she gave herself over to it. They kissed for another minute before breaking apart. She looked up at him with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, her lips slightly swollen from his kiss.

Lucius spoke softly. 'We've been at this for far too long. It's time to stop pretending we're only friends. Do not play games with me any longer, Hermione.'

Her eyes flew open. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her head. IDo not play games with us, Potter./I His own words echoed back inside her head, words spoken many months ago while she was in the Ministry of Magic with her friends. They were trying to save someone and instead were met by the enemy. The Death Eaters.

Lucius Malfoy.

How had she allowed herself to forget who she was with? Who he was? She looked into his crystalline blue eyes and saw no hatred or malice, only confusion. Fortunately for Hermione, she was spared any sort of immediate questioning by the soft chime of the clock in the room. Temporarily distracted by the knowledge that they were now out past curfew, Hermione and Lucius gathered their things quickly and left the Room of Requirement.