Snape stared blankly from the platform of the Astronomy Tower over the Hogwarts grounds, letting the cold November wind brush through his black robes and trying to focus his thoughts. He had the feeling that he was missing information. Why hadn't Dumbledore let him in on all he knew about the Horcruxes? He had only ever learnt of their existence after they had been destroyed. The diary. The ring. The amulet. These three were surely destroyed. According to Dumbledore, Quirrell had also been a Horcrux, a living person who served as a vessel for a piece of Voldemort's soul. Even he shuddered at the thought.

But he knew there were seven of them. Surely the snake that always accompanied the Dark Lord was also a Horcrux, as much value as he placed on its constant companionship. There were still two missing in his calculation, neither of which he knew what they were, nor whether they had already been destroyed. Did Hermione Granger know more? After all, she had spent the last year hunting for these artefacts with Potter and Weasley - he himself had supplied them with a weapon to destroy them. Still, he knew too little to make a firm plan. For the moment, he had no choice but to assume that there were no more Horcruxes apart from Nagini.

But even if that was the case, he was still faced with a problem. He knew that the Horcruxes had to be destroyed before Voldemort was killed. But as soon as he attacked the snake, Voldemort would know what his goal was. He would be dead before he could do anything. It was good that he now had an ally; after all, he had been working for weeks to gain her trust. Still, now that he had achieved that, he was suddenly unsure how to use her. The easiest way would be to get her a wand so that she could kill the snake while he himself targeted Voldemort. But since his bad experience with Ollivander, the Dark Lord no longer trusted any wand maker, so they were all under his watch. No wand could be purchased without him finding out about it.

Regardless of this problem, it was necessary for him to talk to Hermione Granger again. He had to make sure that there really were no more Horcruxes. He was dependent on her knowledge. The old familiar tiredness crept up on him again as he wondered whether he should return to the Manor the very next weekend. Impatient with himself, he called himself to order: he had no time for self-pity and procrastination. He would think of some reason to visit the Malfoy family again and then he would have a quiet chat with Granger.

oOoOoOo

Hermione stood in the kitchen with tired eyes, washing up the last remains of breakfast. She hardly slept last night, so much was going through her mind. All the energy she drew from the weekend seemed to have disappeared overnight, she felt empty and drained. Only the thought of being able to spend most of the day alone in the library kept her from falling asleep on the spot.

"Are you finished here?"

Too tired to respond right away, Hermione slowly turned her head towards the kitchen door, where Lucius Malfoy was leaning in the frame with his arms crossed, scrutinising her intently.

"Almost, just drying the dishes and putting them away."

"House elves can do that just as well," he replied, before summoning one of the many creatures with a flick of his wrist to give him the order to tidy up. Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"I need you for more useful tasks this morning than that," Malfoy explained simply, then waved a hand for her to follow him.

Hermione quickly untied her apron, hung it on a hook, and followed him. His cryptic statement dispelled her tiredness and now she was as curious as she was tense. It was the first time she was alone with Malfoy since their encounter on Sunday night. She knew it was nonsensical, yet her heart involuntarily beat faster at the memory of what had happened. His behaviour towards her had not changed, nor had hers in her dealings with him, yet Hermione was sure that their relationship was no longer the same.

Surprised, she realised that he was leading her along the corridors to the family bathroom and through a side door into a room she had never been in before. She was struck by the sultry heat as she scrutinised the tiles on the walls and the huge basin set into the floor with attentive eyes. She turned to Malfoy with a questioning look.

"I'm thinking of having a bath and I feel like having your company," he explained in a carefully unemotional tone. "You're going to wash and massage my back, rinse my hair and ... then we'll see what else I feel like. Take your clothes off, put them in the corner and rinse yourself off there in the shower before you join me in the water."

Without waiting for her response, Lucius Malfoy undressed, stacked all his clothes neatly on a chair in the corner. Then he reached for a bucket lying on the edge of the pool to scoop up hot water, which he poured generously over his naked body. He rinsed himself again and again in this way until he poured a final bucket over his head, ran a hand through his now wet hair and finally put the bucket to one side. As he then slowly slid into the deep pool, Hermione awoke from her fascinated stupor. She quickly complied with his instructions before she carefully stepped onto the first step into the pool with one foot.

"Don't be shy, little lioness, come to me," he teased her as he held out a hand invitingly.

She scowled at his words, but complied with his command without further hesitation. She felt that she was no longer afraid of this man, that he wouldn't hurt her as long as they were alone. And she knew that she was curious. About herself, about an explanation for their shared experience on Sunday evening. At the same time, she was aware that she was playing a dangerous game despite everything. Ever since her conversation with Snape, she had once again become a true enemy of all Death Eaters, a rebel striving to destroy Voldemort's world. And this man here, as gentle as he was towards her, was a Death Eater. If he ever realised that she was actively working to overthrow the Dark Lord, she would be finished.

"That's a good girl," Malfoy murmured with a smile as he pulled Hermione into his arms.

Without returning his endearment, Hermione let him remain in this position for a few moments before she freed herself from his arms again. "You want me to wash your back, my lord?" she asked humbly, eliciting a soft laugh from him.

He handed her a sponge, turned round, and nodded. "Yes, you should. Nice and thorough, put all your strength into it."

While she grabbed the sponge with both hands, dipped it into the water, and then scrubbed the broad back of the man in front of her with all her might, Hermione continued to indulge in her thoughts. She couldn't deny that she was enjoying her new intimacy with this man. The playful teasing, the open, almost familiar closeness and nakedness in front of him, all of it put her mind at ease. While every thought of Severus Snape only dragged her back into a maelstrom of hope for a better future and panicked memories of his violent behaviour, Lucius Malfoy brought it all to a standstill, as if the few moments she spent alone with him were oases of calm and peace. She was sure that he felt the same way, which made it all the more painful that sooner or later they would be on opposite sides again, fighting. But that was still a long way off and until then, she told herself resolutely, she would enjoy these respites.

"Hermione," the older man purred contentedly, "this feels heavenly. By Merlin, I should have had this idea much earlier."

Smiling silently to herself, Hermione put the sponge aside and turned her attention to her master's hair instead. As she couldn't find any shampoo or any magical washing utensils, she simply reached for a bucket lying on the edge, filled it with hot water and let it run slowly over his head. Then she put it to one side again so that she could massage his scalp with both hands. The relaxed humming confirmed to her that she was doing exactly the right thing.

"Have you digested Sunday night by now?" Malfoy asked suddenly, just as Hermione put the bucket to one side again.

Surprised by this direct question, she remained silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts and trying to put her feelings into words. "Yes and no. I don't know if you realise, I mean if you were aware of it, but I've never felt so understood in all my time here as I did that night. Or maybe even my whole life. And yet I don't understand how ... how I could have let this happen at all."

She interrupted herself to pull herself out of the water, grab a towel from a shelf on the wall, and wrap it around her. Although - or precisely because? - they were talking about sex, she was suddenly all too aware of her nakedness. Uncomfortably aware. She paused at the edge of the pool as she continued: "I don't know if you can understand this, but ... You are the last man I should open up to like this. And yet I did. I can't even be ashamed of it because I don't feel like I've done anything wrong, but ... I just don't understand what exactly happened."

During her halting words, Lucius Malfoy slowly turned round, resting his folded arms on the edge of the pool and looking at her with watchful eyes. Now he rested his chin on his hands before replying, "The human soul is much deeper than most of us realise. For you, this sentence from my mouth is probably unexpected, but precisely because I have many years of experience with–you would probably call it the dark side of magic–anyway, that's why I know a lot of things that you wouldn't expect me to know. I took away your control of your body on Sunday and you jumped at it like a ravenous animal. That's all I'm going to tell you by way of explanation, the rest you'll have to figure out for yourself."

Hermione felt her face contort in annoyance–what was it with older men and their tendency to let her figure everything out for herself instead of just speaking plainly–but she didn't say anything. Although she wanted to have a clarifying conversation, she suddenly realised it would mean she would be getting closer to this man, which she didn't want. It wasn't right to share her feelings with Lucius Malfoy and even seek explanations from him. She could find peace and safety with him, but she couldn't get involved in anything more, especially not after her conversation with Snape.

Resolutely, she stood up. "If you don't need my help any more, I'd like to get back to my task in the library."

She could see Malfoy's surprise at her sudden change of mood, but as he didn't contradict her, Hermione turned and walked towards the corner with her clothes. A soft splash at her back told her that the master of the house obviously lost his desire to stay in the bathroom any longer, but she forced herself not to look back at him. She had to draw the line if she wanted to keep her wits about her.

She just put on her dress when two strong arms suddenly wrapped around her.

"Is that an official rejection now?" Malfoy whispered to her as he pulled her closer to him.

Hermione swallowed, but there was nothing he could do to change her decision. "You are my master; I am your slave. As long as the world looks the way it does at the moment, it will always be like this."

"Is that really all?"

"Mr Malfoy," Hermione replied as she turned in his arms to look him straight in the eye. "You make me feel safe and respected. And understood. Nevertheless, I will never be able to forget who you are. And neither should you, if only for the sake of your family. We all know why Snape was here. I'm on Harry's side, on Dumbledore's side. That will never change. I will remain a muggle-born witch forever. It would be the death of you if you crossed the line. And that of your family. And I cannot cross the line because you are pledged to the man who stands for everything I fight against and despise. I cannot offer you more than comfort and oblivion for a moment."^

With that, she stepped away and this time, he let her go.