Two

Many thanks to my lovely betas Anogete and Dacian Goddess.

JKR's, not mine.

~*~

With a very soft noise, Hermione Apparated in front of the heavy iron-wrought manor gates. When she took a step towards them, the dark metal twisted into something that looked like a face. It snarled, 'State your purpose.'

'Hermione Granger. I am here to see the library.' Her voice was a bit wobbly, but to her own ears she sounded confident enough.

With a horrible clanging noise, the metal bars moved back into place, obviously not deeming her statement worthy of an answer. What a terrific beginning. Maybe a good kick would change the gates' opinion? Probably not. It would only add "no manners" to the list of reasons why she wasn't supposed to enter the grounds. Then it began to rain, the typical soft drizzle of early November.

A house-elf was hurrying towards the gates from the other side. He flicked his right hand once, and the gates swung obediently open.

'Thank you,' Hermione said politely to the little creature.

He cast her a nervous look and bowed. As he turned back to the direction he had come from, he murmured, 'I is taking you to master.' Hermione was obviously expected to follow him up the winding narrow lane.

Of course, nothing had changed here. The house-elves were as subjugated as ever, and she wasn't welcome. Even the white peacock that crossed the path in front of her huffed in disdain.

While she followed the elf towards the house, Hermione pondered her decision again, wondering whatever had made her come here. She just hoped the library was worth it.

Then the large manor house loomed before her. It was actually beautiful in its ancient glory when one wasn't dragged up to it as a werewolf's captive. She hadn't much time to admire the front of the house as the elf hurried forward, up broad stone steps, and through the huge front doors that had opened at their approach. They entered a vast entrance hall. A marble flight of stairs dominated the middle of the hall, leading upstairs where it split into galleries that went round both sides and further up. There were portraits on all the walls, doubtless all showing illustrious pure-blood ancestors of the Malfoy family. At Hermione's entrance, there was a commotion, and almost immediately the pictures began whispering among themselves. She quickly fought down the urge to draw her wand in order to fling a few nasty hexes at the venerable Malfoy ancestors, though the idea of the ancient paintings streaked with turpentine courtesy of Hermione Granger served to enhance her mood considerably, if only for a moment.

A second elf clad in a pink tea towel appeared out of nowhere and bowed deeply. 'Welcome to Malfoy Manor, miss. I is taking your cloak.'

'Thank you,' she said kindly. The elf eyed her nervously and hurried away with her cloak.

'Master is waiting for you,' the first elf said, taking off down the long corridor. Hermione again had no other choice but to follow him. To her relief, she wasn't taken to the drawing room. In her head she heard the voice of her Muggle therapist from a few years ago, telling her that she needed to confront her memories. Rubbish in her opinion. Denial was a fine thing.

Finally, the elf showed her into an elegant study. It was sumptuously furnished with a large, dark wooden desk, an ancient leather sofa, and a richly but tastefully ornamented fireplace in which flames were crackling, keeping the room warm. Large bookcases lined the walls. The whole room looked surprisingly comfortable as if someone actually lived there. Hermione blinked in surprise; this wasn't what she had expected.

At her entrance, Lucius Malfoy had risen. He walked around his desk to greet her. Clad in simple but elegant light grey robes, his long blond hair falling loosely down his back, he looked every bit as haughty and arrogant as she remembered him. Neither the war nor Voldemort's subsequent fall seemed to have changed that. But then, he had never really been a Death Eater at heart, or so he had claimed at his trial. Hermione still wondered how he had pulled that one off.

Somehow, Hermione had forgotten how good looking the man was. Momentarily thrown off guard, she noticed absent-mindedly that the colour of his robes exactly matched his eyes.

'Welcome to my home, Miss Granger. It's a pleasure,' he said smoothly.

'Thank you.' She noticed that his eyes flickered briefly to the thin white scar on her neck. So he remembered. Did he wish that his sister-in-law had finished what her little silver knife had started? Hermione could still feel the sharp blade piercing her skin. Or did Lucius Malfoy merely consider it bad taste that she hadn't bothered to hide her scar under a glamour or at least a scarf? She never did, though many people at the Ministry hinted more or less subtly that she should.

'Would you care for some tea?'

'No, thank you. I'd prefer if you could show me the library.' Hermione was aware that her answer was bordering on rudeness, but the less she had to do with Lucius Malfoy the better, though she had to admit that he improved considerably when he wasn't sneering at her. But then, the man's charms were almost as legendary as his schemes.

Lucius nodded. 'As you wish. Will you require guest quarters? I'll be happy to have a room prepared for you.'

Hermione flinched at the thought of staying in his house over night. 'No, thank you, I'll be going home in the evening.'

'Very well, I'll adjust the wards so that you can Apparate directly to the manor. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to walk from the gates?' His polite tone hadn't changed, but one of his eyebrows had arched upward a fracture of an inch.

So he was aware of her reserve towards him. Good.

'Thank you, that would be very convenient.'

Lucius politely led the way to the library. When Hermione entered the room, she drew a breath. She had heard a lot about it, but nothing had prepared her for the view that greeted her. Every wall was lined with bookcases that stretched from floor to ceiling. Several more bookcases were placed throughout the room. The pale afternoon light filtered in through three large windows in one of the walls. A dark table adorned with two candelabras graced the centre of the room, with several very comfortable looking chairs placed around it. In one corner, Hermione could see a sofa that just seemed to invite one to curl up on it with a book. As in Lucius's study, the flames in the fireplace served to keep the room pleasantly warm while they infused it with a soft light. Full of appreciation, Hermione let her eyes roam along the seemingly endless shelves of books. The room had the typical, very slightly musty smell of well-kept old books that was so wonderful to book lovers everywhere and that no airing could drive away. Hermione inhaled deeply. Life suddenly did look a lot more promising.

She turned to her host. 'This is very impressive. Thank you for the opportunity to conduct research here.' Her smile was almost genuine.

Lucius inclined his head. 'I am always glad to be of service to the Ministry.'

Her employers were the last thing she wanted to think about now. 'Is there any system that I could use to find my way around?'

'I have a few lists of the newer acquisitions, and the books are largely grouped according to age and subject, so I trust you'll be able to find what you need.'

'You mean nobody has ever tried to catalogue these?' How could one have a library like that without wanting to account for all its treasures?

'My great grandfather did. However, the records have since been...misplaced.'

Hermione quickly caught on; apparently, Lucius Malfoy was not too keen on anyone finding out the full extent of his possessions. She wondered if that was due to his recent experiences with Voldemort and the Ministry or if it was a general sign of paranoia. Or caution?

'If you are looking for anything specific, I might be able to point you in the right direction.'

Hermione spun around at the sound of a voice she hadn't heard in years. A slim figure, clad in black, stood half hidden behind a shelf.

'Miss Granger, I presume you know Severus Snape.'

Hermione stared at the man who was believed to be Merlin-knew-where but certainly not here. Where had he been since his narrow escape from Voldemort's attempt to murder him?

Severus took a step forward. 'Miss Granger.'

'Prof...' No, that was wrong; he wasn't a teacher anymore. 'You are back.' Hermione finally remembered that staring at other people was rarely taken as a warm greeting.

'Still a penchant for stating the obvious, I see. But yes, I am back,' he answered without offering any further explanation.

Lucius chose that moment to take part in their conversation. 'Miss Granger, I hope you won't mind sharing your workspace with Severus.'

'No, of course not,' she replied, though she felt as if she'd just been assigned a watchdog.

Lucius turned to the other wizard. 'Severus, would you kindly assist Miss Granger with some of the volumes that might be reluctant to be handled by her.'

Hermione knew that some Dark Arts texts were keyed to respond only favourably to their owners with everyone else prone to nasty consequences, but right now this sounded like another proof of Lucius's views on pure-blood supremacy.

Severus inclined his head the fraction of an inch. 'Certainly, I'll assist you, but I would ask you not to interfere with my own work.'

Her curiosity piqued, Hermione wondered what Snape was working on. It was bound to be interesting.

~*~

Hermione blew lightly on the coffee in her cup; it was just that little bit too hot. Outside the sky was still dark. A very disgruntled Crookshanks barely looked at her as he munched away at his breakfast after she had interrupted his beauty sleep so untimely early. His mistress poured herself a second cup of coffee and went once more over the two rolls of parchment on which she had written down which materials she was looking for. Did she really need all three volumes of Lariviere's Poison et pouvoir? Yes, definitely. What about Medardus's Von den dunklen Künsten, ihren Urspüngen und Anwendungen? Absolutely. Another note on the parchment. And what about Audley's Legends of Curses Moste Vile? Hermione grabbed a new piece of parchment and wrote the title down. What else might there be in the library? She couldn't wait to have a closer look at all the treasures it held. Besides, its owner had been rather pleasant. Well, what had she expected? That he would hex her at first sight? It stood to reason that Malfoy was eager to prove his good will to the Ministry, so he had to tolerate her despite the fact that he would probably love to hex her or worse. Still, he had been surprisingly nice. For a fleeting moment, Hermione wondered who warmed his bed now after his divorce. She shook her head; best not to go there.

She put her parchments into her bag, made sure that her hair wasn't any more unruly than usual and that her cloak matched her robes. Then she was ready to go. She hoped that Lucius Malfoy had remembered to adjust the wards.

He had, as she found out when she could Apparate directly to the front door, which meant she didn't have to deal with the cranky gates again. The same house-elf as the day before greeted her; today she wore a light green tea-towel embroidered with flowers. 'Good morning, miss.'

'Good morning...sorry, what's your name?'

Suddenly the elf started to fidget, probably because she thought Hermione wanted to complain about her. Something really needed to be done about the way Lucius Malfoy treated his elves.

'Tinky. I is Tinky. Does miss want to go to the library?'

'Yes, please,' Hermione said, trying to sound as polite as possible to reassure the little creature. It didn't help. As they had reached the library she had barely time to thank Tinky before the elf hurried away as quickly as she could.

Hermione entered the library and blinked to find not only Snape already there but Lucius Malfoy as well. She didn't think he would be up that early. The two were sitting at the table, heads bent over a piece of parchment, discussing something in hushed whispers. At her entrance, their talk stopped immediately.

Lucius Malfoy stood up. 'Good morning, Miss Granger. I trust the wards recognised you?'

'Good morning. Yes, thank you,' Hermione said.

'My pleasure. If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to let me or Severus know. Now, you must excuse me.' With a slight bow in her direction, he turned and left. Perfect manners were a refreshing novelty after being used to Ron's lack thereof.

She made her way over to the table where Severus was sitting. He looked at her with an expression she was unable to discern. Hermione drew a breath and reminded herself firmly that she wasn't a student anymore. 'Erm, Mr Snape, I wondered if you could help me locate some of these?' she asked, handing him the parchments with the titles.

Without a word, he took them and began to peruse the list. Hermione used the opportunity to look him over. He looked pretty much as she remembered him. He was still very thin, but had lost some of the gauntness that had characterised him during her sixth year. His lanky black hair had grown a bit longer, which served to underline the prominent features of his face. It rather suited him. And he still dressed in black with many buttons. Hermione smiled as she remembered the fantasies these buttons and the man wearing them had inspired when she was at school.

Just above his collar, the edge of a scar was visible. Hermione involuntarily touched her own scar as the picture of Snape lying in his own blood on the floor of the Shrieking Shack came back to her. She still blamed herself that she hadn't thought about checking his pulse, all too easily assuming that he was dead. She also remembered her almost joyous relief when she had learnt that he had survived.

'That is a very impressive list.' Snape interrupted her train of thought. 'Your research is on ancient curses, am I correct?'

That was amazing; nobody before had drawn that conclusion so quickly. Hermione beamed at him. 'Essentially, yes. Though I am mostly interested in the laws that govern the creation of curses.'

'Would you mind telling me more about your project? And do sit down.'

Hermione sat quickly. Here at last was someone who was likely to understand what she was talking about, and he seemed interested as well. 'I am looking into the nature of curses or, more specifically, malevolent enchantments. While it obviously depends on the intent as well as the skill and knowledge of the caster, there are a number of other factors I don't understand yet. Such as why some curses become stronger over time while others get weaker, or how it is possible to target specific people or groups of people when creating a cursed object while others remain unharmed. There are objects that contain several layers of curses so ancient and complex that no one today is able to break these. At their most sophisticated level, these would involve not only spell casting but also a knowledge of Arithmancy, certain potions or even blood magic. Some of the manuscripts and books I am looking for describe these, though some of them are probably written in code. I am hoping to find some of the keys as well.' Hermione saw Snape looking at her with newfound interest.

'Of course, that would presuppose that the creation of curses does indeed follow certain rules and laws,' Snape pointed out.

Hermione's eyes lit up. 'Yes. According to the basic principle of Arithmancy, everything does, even if we are not aware of it.'

'I see. You are, of course, aware that some of these books might be protected by curses themselves. Forgive my curiosity, but where does your interest in curses derive from?'

'I worked as a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts, and the number of different curses in existence is amazing. After a while, I began to wonder about their nature and the laws that govern them. If you don't mind, what are you working on? I mean you are here to work on something, aren't you?'

A corner of his mouth curled ever so slightly upward. 'Yes, Miss Granger. I am indeed working on something. Lucius and I both trust you to know your way around a library and a collection of Dark Arts texts.'

'Sorry. Well then, what are you working on? If you don't mind telling me.' Hermione leant forward in her chair.

'My work is actually in the same area as yours. I am writing a book on the history and variety of curses in different countries, so I'd be looking into similar things as you do.'

'Is that what you have been doing all the time, travelling? I saw a couple of places when I worked for Gringotts. It was fascinating.' She had loved this part of her job that allowed her to explore foreign cities and their wizarding quarters.

'Among other things, yes. There is actually a much richer history of the Dark Arts in Europe than we are commonly led to believe.'

That sounded fascinating. Myriads of questions immediately popped up in Hermione's mind. Before she had the chance to ask even one of them, Snape cut the conversation short by standing up. 'Let's go and find some of your books.'

~*~

A/N: Poison et pouvoir ... poison and power

Von den dunklen Künsten, ihren Ursprüngen und Anwendungen ... Of the Dark Arts, their origins, and uses