One

Many thanks to Melusin and Anogete for beta reading. Thank you also to Chivalric for discussing ideas with me, listening to the occasional whinge and being a friend.

Originally written for the sshg_exchange winter 2008 on lj.

*****

Make thy books thy companions. Let thy cases and shelves be thy pleasure grounds and gardens.

(Judah Ibn-Tibbon)

*****

The sentence didn't make any more sense than it had the three times she had read it before. With a sigh, Hermione scratched it out and pulled Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms towards her. She turned to the chapter on intruder charms, looking at the same page she had consulted ten minutes ago. There was nothing new in it. Shaking her head, she closed the book and put it, together with her notes, into the desk drawer she reserved for current case files. She stood up and walked over to her office window. Peering into the dim afternoon light, she noticed that it was still raining. What did you expect? It was raining this morning, it was raining half an hour ago, and it will probably still be raining tonight. Honestly, this is ridiculous.

She returned to her desk, straightened out the quills, and sorted through her parchments. Most of them went into a neat little pile on one side of the desk; a few that were not meant for possibly prying eyes were shoved into one of the drawers. Just in case, she warded it, then she walked around her desk. Neat and professional from a visitor's point of view. With a little smile, she pointed her wand at the chair in front of her desk and lowered the seat a few inches. A glance at her watch informed her that it was another five minutes before her newest client would arrive. She dug through yet another drawer in her desk until she found her little compact mirror. A new coat of lipstick seemed to be in order. Of course, a few strands had escaped her carefully constructed bun; she tried to twist them back in with her fingers. As a result, more strands made a bid for freedom, causing her hair to resemble a bird's nest. 'Oh, crap.'

Finally, she used a spell to tame her hair into submission. Perfect. A neat orderly bun. She smiled at her mirror image for about a second before a strand chose to escape its confinement, quickly followed by a few comrades. 'That's a losing battle, dear,' her mirror quipped.

'Oh, shut up.' She was about to try again, but a soft knock on the door interrupted her. She hastily shoved the mirror back into the drawer, tugged at the collar of her robe, and drew a deep breath.

'Come in.'

Lucius Malfoy strode into her office. 'Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Miss Granger.' He greeted her with a slight bow.

'Ginny said it was rather urgent.'

Actually, what Ginny had said had been more along the lines of would she please please please make an appointment with her father-in-law as soon as possible to stop him coming round at all hours to inform them about his troubles and the progress he was not making while he made himself comfortable in their home; otherwise, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from using some of her more creative hexes.

Lucius stood in front of her desk, casting a quick look around her office before his eyes came to rest on her.

'Please have a seat, Mr Malfoy. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?' she asked.

'No, thank you,' he replied.

Hermione sat down behind her desk. Pulling a piece of parchment and a quill towards her, she asked, 'How may I help you?'

'I'd prefer our conversation to remain unrecorded,' Lucius said.

'Of course. I can assure you that Granger and Goldstein takes the utmost care to ensure discretion in all our transactions with our clients,' Hermione replied, putting the quill aside.

Lucius inclined his head in acknowledgement. 'So I've heard.' He paused for a few seconds. 'My request is of a somewhat delicate nature.'

Hermione let her eyes wander over his face and his impeccable robes. They seemed to be hiding a rather nice body, and he looked well overall, though there was a slight tic on the side of his neck that marred the picture of perfect composure he was presenting.

Lucius had obviously noticed her gaze. He graced her with a smile before he continued, 'I presume you're aware that a number of my possessions ended up in the Ministry's vaults after the troubles a few years ago...'

'You could also say that a substantial number of Dark objects were found in your house after the war and were subsequently confiscated by the Ministry,' Hermione answered. Good strategy, Hermione. Antagonising a potential new client will surely get you the job. She decided to ignore the annoying inner voice but added a charming smile of her own to temper her blunt words.

Lucius continued as if he hadn't heard her interruption. 'Most of them were recently restored to me.' He paused again.

Hermione simply nodded, waiting for him to go on.

'However, an item that is very dear to me is still missing. It appears that it disappeared while under the Ministry's care.'

'That is a severe accusation. If you remember, I was working at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the time. Didn't you sign a document for the restitution of all your possessions?'

The tic at the side of his neck became more pronounced. 'I did.'

'And now it suddenly occurred to you that something is missing?'

'Let's say there were convincing... arguments to sign the documents at the time.'

Hermione sighed. 'Mr Malfoy, unless you're prepared to provide me with more detailed information, I'm not sure we have anything to talk about.'

Lucius remained quiet for a few moments. Then he said very softly, 'It was suggested to me that I accept a certain sum in compensation and forget the item in question had ever existed if I wanted to keep new evidence against myself and Draco from turning up.'

'But there wasn't...oh.' So the rumours were true. Someone had seen fit to pilfer confiscated items from the Ministry's vaults. The rumours had died down quickly when the few pardoned Death Eaters had signed their inventory lists without a fuss.

'Exactly. Old family heirlooms have a value that cannot be measured in gold or Galleons. I will never be at rest until everything is safely restored to me.' Lucius carefully studied the head of his cane, his face the perfect picture of sorrowful concern.

Hermione sighed. 'Mr Malfoy, I'm still not sure how I can help you. While I disagree with the way the Ministry handled this whole business, there is little I can do about it. If you plan on making the whole affair public, you'll need more and different back-up than we can provide. If you want to try and bring the matter before the Wizengamot, you'll need a lawyer and a couple of bodyguards. Granger and Goldstein is neither as I'm sure you're aware.'

'I've no intention of making anything public.'

Hermione didn't fail to notice that his eyes could become rather captivating as they focussed on her.

'As I said before, I'm not sure how we can be of assistance.'

'Oh, I think you can, Miss Granger. In fact, you seem to be the perfect candidate. Since you worked at Magical Law Enforcement, you're already familiar with the affair. You know that utmost discretion will be required in locating my property, not to mention that your expertise in your field will come in very handy.' He almost purred.

Hermione reminded herself firmly that it wouldn't do to get distracted by his, albeit considerable, charm. 'If by expertise you mean to imply that the objects you're looking for are Dark in nature, I'm even less inclined to help you.'

'Tsk, Miss Granger. We both know that whether or not an object is "Dark" is mostly a matter of academic debate. So let's not dwell on trivialities. No, I was suggesting that as a charms consultant with a specialisation in curse-breaking, you'd have the necessary caution to handle complex magical objects. In addition, your unique background would enable you to move unobtrusively,' Lucius said.

Hermione caught on immediately. 'You mean that the... object might be found in a Muggle collection or a Muggle shop?'

'Yes, that might be the case, Miss Granger. I'm looking for someone who is able to move in both worlds without attracting undue notice and who has the necessary expertise to handle these objects. Naturally, I would reimburse all your travel expenses in addition to your usual fee. My daughter-in-law praised your considerable abilities, and she mentioned that you might be interested in, shall we say, a change in your daily routine. Of course, I understand if you'd be too busy to take on this kind of work. I'll find someone else, then.' His fingers hadn't stopped slowly twirling his cane while he was speaking.

No, you won't. You're really desperate for me to go in search of whatever it is that you want back so urgently, Hermione thought. 'It might help my decision, Mr Malfoy, if I actually knew which item we're talking about.'

In one swift move, Lucius pulled a folded sheet of parchment out of his robe. When he unfolded it, Hermione saw the drawing of a book.

'This has been in my family for centuries. If you look closely, you'll recognise the Malfoy crest on the cover. You will understand that I would like to see it returned to me.'

Hermione nodded while she quickly glanced at a book of fairy-tales she had inherited from her grandmother and now kept in her office as a sort of good-luck charm. The thought of its possible loss made her chest feel very tight for a second. She took a closer look at the picture. By the looks of it, the book was very old, bound in black leather. Arabesques adorned the cover; artfully woven into them so that it was not immediately obvious to the casual observer was the Malfoy crest and a number of ancient runes, not all of which looked familiar at first sight, but she was able to identify those standing for "protection", "family", and "heritage". Her curiosity was piqued.

'What is the book about?'

'It's the genealogy of the Malfoy family. It traces our roots back to the time my ancestors came over from France,' Lucius answered.

'Hm. Any idea what happened to it after it vanished from the Ministry?' Hermione asked.

'I was able to make a few discreet enquiries. My contacts could follow its trace as far as Paris, but then it seems to have disappeared completely.'

Hermione was tempted to ask him why he didn't go in search of his book himself, but then the thought of Lucius Malfoy trying to enter a Muggle bookshop unobtrusively had her very nearly snorting. Reminding herself that embarrassing a potential client was not conducive to business, she quickly got a grip on herself and sorted through the information he had given her. Things didn't really add up, but it sounded a lot more interesting than the projects she'd recently been working on.

'You've captured my interest, Mr Malfoy. I'll try to find your book. Here are my conditions: you will pay my usual fee plus all travel expenses. In return, you'll receive regular reports on the progress I'm making. If you want them coded, I'll do so for an additional fee. Please understand that our contract does not guarantee the success of my search.'

Malfoy nodded briefly. Hermione pointed her wand at one of the filing cabinets, and a standard form sailed onto her desk. Two more waves added the specifics of the contract.

He took the parchment, read it through, and signed it with a flourish after he had added the necessary details. 'Thank you, Miss Granger. I'm sure the search for my family heirloom is in good hands.'

'Thank you, Mr Malfoy.'

He gave her a short bow and was turning to leave when Hermione said, 'Oh, one more thing, Mr Malfoy. Why now?'

'My son's marriage has reminded me how vital it is to preserve our heritage for the following generations.' With another short bow he was gone.

Hermione sat staring at the contract after the door had closed behind him. He had nearly doubled the sum of her fee and expenses. As far as she knew, Lucius Malfoy wasn't prone to sentimentality. So, what was it that he hadn't told her?

A quick glance at her watch confirmed that she had enough time for a chat with some of her former colleagues before meeting Ginny for drinks.

*****

Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug. 'What can I get you?'

'A half of pear cider, please.'

Hermione decided on a half of ale and some crisps for herself. After she'd made her way back to the table with their drinks, the two friends settled on the comfortable bench and took a large sip.

'Ron says, "hi."'

'Thanks. Still the enthusiastic father, is he?' Hermione asked.

Ginny grinned. 'The girls have him securely wrapped around their little fingers. It's driving Pansy absolutely spare.'

'The little angels.' Realising how hungry she was, Hermione tore open the bag of crisps. She munched a handful before she said, 'Lucius Malfoy came to see me this afternoon.'

'Good, that will hopefully keep him off our backs for a while.' Ginny took another large swig of her drink.

'That bad?' Hermione asked.

'Yes. No. I mean, he's nice and everything. It's just... I mean, we've only been married for three months, and he never owls or anything. He just turns up...and that can be a bit embarrassing.'

Hermione started to giggle.

'It's not funny,' Ginny said before she, too, started to giggle.

After they had calmed down, Hermione said, 'Married life suits you.'

'Draco suits me.' Ginny's face took on a dreamy expression.

Before she could elaborate any further on the doubtless numerous qualities of her husband, Hermione quickly asked, 'Do you know what it's all about?'

'What is what about? Oh, the whole family heirloom thing? No, not really.' Ginny shrugged.

'Still, it's weird. I sneaked into the files. Actually, a couple of confiscated items went missing, but nobody bothered to record what and whose,' Hermione said.

'How did you get into the Ministry files?' Ginny asked.

Hermione grinned. 'I'm well connected. Besides, the wards still recognise me.'

'Remind me not to get on the wrong side of you.' There was a clear note of admiration in Ginny's voice. 'Anything else you've found?'

'Not much. Apart from the Malfoys, hardly anyone managed to get their things back other than the Parkinsons and the Notts. Lucius Malfoy signed the inventory list the same day his pardon was made official. Loads of people have access to the vaults, and the records of who goes in when are sloppy at best. I may need to get in touch with Mundungus, see if he's heard anything.' Hermione scrunched up her nose. 'Any idea why this is so important?'

'I suppose Lucius wants his stuff back. Y'know, after his name has been cleared, and all?' Ginny eyed her empty glass. 'Another one of those?'

Hermione nodded. When Ginny returned with their new drinks, she said, 'He's rather dishy.'

Hermione had been contemplating another bag of crisps. 'Who is?'

'Lucius.'

'He's got nice hair.' Hermione twirled one of her own unruly curls around her finger.

'So, you've noticed. I'm glad you occasionally look at a man who's not in a book from your collection.'

'Don't start that again. They're erotica. Art. Literature,' Hermione said.

'Of course, it's all an intellectual pursuit. What's in those books of yours has no titillating value, whatsoever,' Ginny observed.

'I didn't exactly say that.' Hermione took a large gulp from her glass.

'It's been what? Two years since you went out with anyone, since whatsisname?' Ginny continued.

'Ginny! His name was Terry. Are you trying to pair me off? With Lucius Malfoy of all people? You seem to have forgotten a few things about him.' Such as his past, for example.

Ginny shrugged. 'He's changed a lot from what I can tell. He even makes an effort to get along with mum and dad. So, who knows? Besides, I always thought you'd be better off with someone older. Someone who isn't scared of you.'

Silence.

'Didn't you have a bit of a crush on Snape at one point?'

Hermione took another sip of her drink. 'A bit,' she admitted.

'See.' Ginny grinned.

Hermione's throat suddenly felt tight as it so often did when she thought of Severus Snape. 'But he was already dead by then. I think it was more a bit of hero-worship or something like that. Knowing all he did for us and all that happened to him...'

Ginny briefly squeezed her shoulder. 'I know. It's a shame. He should have lived, been happy, and all that.'

Hermione simply nodded, her vocal cords unwilling to cooperate.

'Still, it's weird that they never found his body,' Ginny said.

Hermione swallowed, her heart beating a little faster. 'I know it's silly because I saw him die. But sometimes I like to think that he didn't. Remember his first year speech? "To put a stopper in death" and all that? I mean, he was a Potions master and a really great wizard. How could he die from a snakebite? So sometimes I like to think, maybe he got away. Maybe he's living somewhere, happy...' She swallowed again.

Ginny quickly put an arm around her friend. 'Maybe he is.'

Both were silent for a moment before they decided it was time for a fresh drink.

'So, are you going to do it?' Ginny wanted to know.

'Do what?' What was Ginny on about? Things were starting to get a bit blurry.

'Work for Lucius Malfoy. Find the family... the thingy, and raid all booksh–bookshopsh everywhere.'

Hermione tried to focus. 'It's your family, too, now. But yes, I'm going to do it. It's a good opportunity to travel among other things, though I think there's something shady about the whole affair. There's more to it.'

Ginny shrugged. 'Maybe. Or maybe Lucius's just being Lucius.'

*****

Hermione looked over the chaos on her desk. Maps, reference books, and several sheets of parchment containing notes and lists were spread all over it. So far, she had worked her way through about half of them. She had neatly indexed every bookshop she had been to, every book dealer or book lover she had spoken to, and what information they'd been able to provide. All in different colours, of course. All to no avail. Other than confirming Malfoy's information, there was hardly a trace of his damn genealogy book to be found anywhere. She had started to wonder whether he had sent her on a wild goose chase. Maybe the book had simply vanished into a private collection or been destroyed. When she had tried to put these possibilities gently across to Lucius Malfoy, the blond had all of a sudden become very twitchy. Further enquiry yielded that he'd know if the book had been destroyed. As for some collector happily coveting a genealogy of the Malfoy family...Lucius had flat out denied that possibility, offering no further explanation and doubling her fee yet again.

What made him so desperate to have this particular book back? His obsession with his family and his lineage wasn't exactly a secret, but according to Ginny, there was another family genealogy in the Malfoy library...in eight volumes no less...so why this one? Or was it simply that Lucius Malfoy didn't take kindly to anything vanishing that belonged to him? Hermione gave up on her musings and went to make a fresh cup of tea before she consulted her list of French second-hand bookshops once more. Most of them had answered her enquiries readily enough. Still, she wondered if it wouldn't be better to go to France and have a look for herself.

On her way back to her desk, her gaze fell onto the two small volumes that were her latest acquisitions. At least her collection of written erotica had profited substantially from her forays and Lucius Malfoy's generous fees.

*****

The next morning, she woke up so early that it was still dark outside. Over a steaming mug of tea, Hermione consulted her lists again. Surely it would be best to start in Paris and work her way systematically through the larger cities? She put her mug down and stared out of the window into the dim morning light. It was late April, and there was no sign of spring. Instead, it was still cold, foggy, and the day promised yet more rain. Hermione turned on the heating before she pulled her cardigan tighter around her. Elsewhere, there would be a clear sky, sunshine, and warmth.

On a whim, she decided to go to Marseille, convincing herself that that was as good a place as any other to continue with her search; besides the only clues she had found seemed to point in that direction. She had agreed with Lucius that it was best to keep a low profile, which ruled out a Portkey. She shuddered at the thought of taking a broom for such a long ride. Hermione pondered Apparating but couldn't decide on a good destination. Besides, Apparition could also attract unwanted attention. Not for the first time, she wondered if Lucius was getting slightly paranoid or just indulging in a little bit of secrecy. In the end, she decided on Muggle transportation.

She dug through her bag to find her mobile. It had taken her months to find a way to keep magic from interfering with the reception, but she had wanted a way to keep in touch with her parents. After their little stint in Australia, they preferred communicating with their daughter through non-magical means. She rung rail services. Yes, she could book a seat on the Eurostar for the next day, and yes, she wouldn't have to wait too long for a connection to Marseille.

*****

Staring out into the grey, wet morning, she watched as the train pulled out of St Pancras and made its way through the city. She spent most of the journey going through her lists and notes once again.

When she arrived in Paris, it was still raining; to her dismay, Hermione noticed that her French had become rather rusty, so she would have to rely on Translation Charms. All in all, she was glad to reach the Gare de Lyon and board the TGV; luckily, she found a window seat. Once they had left the suburbs behind, the noise of the rain outside and the steady motion of the train made her increasingly drowsy.

There were books everywhere. The bookcases that lined the walls were overflowing with them; further volumes were stacked on every inch of the table and the floor. Hermione reached down to one of the stacks to pick up the topmost book. When she extended her hand towards it, the book rose into the air and soared over to the shelves, followed by the others that had been stacked beneath it. The same number of books obligingly cleared a space in the book cases, floating up into the air and coming to rest neatly stacked on the floor. Hermione tried to take a small, red book from the middle shelf next. The result was the same: it rose into the air followed by a number of its fellow volumes. They were replaced by exactly the same number before they re-arranged themselves into a neat pile on a bit of free space. This happened each time Hermione tried to pick up a book until she spotted a black one on the topmost shelf. She had to clear a small footstool so that she could climb up to reach it. Surrounded by swirling books, she extended her hand towards the thick volume. It floated down, just out of her reach and then hung in mid-air so that she could get a good look at the cover. Hermione gasped; it looked exactly like the book Lucius Malfoy wanted so urgently. In her haste to make a grab for it, she nearly tripped over her feet. When she had found her balance again, she saw the book hovering a bit further away, keeping just out of her reach, towards a door that had appeared out of nowhere. She followed the book into a long, dimly-lit corridor. At the end of it, a swish of black robes disappeared round a corner. The book was gently gliding away in the same direction with Hermione following it through the corridor, and another one, brighter and warmer than the first, and then another until they stopped in front of a large four-poster bed. A thin man, clad in nothing but heavy black robes, was sitting on it, his head bent so that his black hair was obscuring his face. The book drifted down onto the pillow, flicked open and lay completely still. The man raised his head. 'About time, Miss Granger,' Severus Snape said.

Severus rose from the bed; she took a step towards him. His body was warm when he pulled her to him, and his lips...

Hermione's eyes snapped open; the comfortable motion had suddenly stopped. There seemed to be hundreds of little needles in her right arm; pain shot through her neck as she tried to move her head. Where was she? Oh, right. The train. She peered into the bright sunlight as the train started moving again and rapidly accelerated; the view from the viaduct they were now crossing at high speed made everything flying by appear oddly small, almost surreal. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. Suddenly, her head jerked upward. Snape had been in her dream. Alive. And she had very nearly kissed him. A little sigh escaped her. If only she had slept a little longer...

By the time she got off the train in Marseille, Hermione felt much calmer again. After all, Snape was dead, and it had only been a dream...though one that held a lot of promise before it was so untimely interrupted. What mattered was to try and find Malfoy's book. She stretched in the sunshine, inhaling the warm, smooth air with its variety of smells before she descended the numerous steps from the station. After a bit of reflection, she decided to secure accommodation first, guessing that the search through the city's second-hand bookshops would take her at least another day.

*****

Hermione yawned and rubbed her burning eyes. She took another sip from her cup before she crossed the three bookshops in Le Panier, the city's oldest quarter, off her list. The wizarding one didn't exist anymore, and of the two others, one specialised in the city's history, and the second one didn't have what she was looking for. Hermione yawned again and looked at her list. The city centre looked promising. She cast a longing glance at her now empty coffee cup and the few crumbs that remained from her baguette. 'Might as well get on with it,' she muttered and left the comfortable shade of the café.

"Accents Toniques" presented a more promising façade than the other shops. They displayed a number of well-kept books on architecture behind clean windows; the sign that announced the shop's name looked like it had recently received a fresh coat of paint. Upon entering the shop, Hermione drew a deep breath. There were books everywhere: beautifully displayed on shelves, artfully arranged on tables...it was like stepping into a book lover's version of paradise.

'Can I help you?' The old man smiled at Hermione, his green eyes twinkling behind thick glasses.

Experience had taught Hermione to be extremely wary of anyone who twinkled, but the elderly shop assistant seemed to be genuinely friendly.

'I'm looking for books on family history and genealogy,' Hermione replied.

'We've got a number of those. Right over there.' He pointed to a number of shelves in the corner.

'Thank you.'

Hermione went over to the three shelves and started to look for a book that resembled the Malfoy genealogy. It would have been much easier to use magic, but apart from the old man, there was a middle-aged couple next to her looking through the books on ancient houses, and she didn't want to attract undue attention. She started scanning the uppermost ledge and worked her way down, noticing a thick volume bound in black leather that looked promising. Her heart started to beat a little faster as she pulled it out. With a sinking feeling, she realised that it was a Muggle history of a family that apparently had come to Provence a few hundred years ago. She put the book back. Nothing else even remotely resembled what she was looking for. Hermione cast a quick glance around her to verify that the other customers had left the shop. The old Muggle had disappeared to wherever he spent the time waiting for customers. She quickly pulled out her wand and ran a scan. No magical trace; all Muggle books on the shelf were indeed Muggle.

Hermione yawned again and tried to work the crick out of her neck before she made her way back to the front of the shop. The old man appeared from behind a shelf, carrying a stack of books.

'No luck?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, but would you have an erotica section?'

'Back through there.' He winked at her, pointing to a doorway at the back of the shop.

'Thank you.' With a little tingle of anticipation, Hermione walked through the door into the other room.

Windowless and smaller than the room at the front, it was only dimly lit. One bookcase half obscured the doorway, making it impossible to see all of the room, but its walls appeared to be lined with yet more bookshelves. Hermione smiled; this looked very promising indeed. She started to make her way around the shelf into the room and then stopped dead in her tracks. A tall, slim figure clad in black was standing before one of the shelves, perusing a large book held in long, slender fingers. Most of his profile was hidden by strands of long, black hair, leaving only a very prominent nose visible. He looked up at her entrance, and Hermione found herself staring into a pair of black eyes. Her legs suddenly felt wobbly while her mouth went dry.

'You're alive,' she gasped.