Four

Many thanks to my lovely betas Anogete and Dacian Goddess.

JKR's, not mine.

~*~

Hermione yawned and stretched languidly when her hand came into contact with something that shouldn't have been there. It felt smooth and soft, not at all like the headboard of her bed. She ran her hand along the material again. No, definitely not her own bed.

Sitting up, she opened her eyes and found herself on the leather sofa in Lucius's study. Someone had put a pillow under her head and covered her with a warm blanket. Suddenly wary, Hermione lifted a corner of it. Peering under it, she was glad to find herself still fully clothed. Apparently, the same someone had only loosened the upper buttons of her robe. Her shoes were standing next to the sofa. She rubbed her eyes, remembering the evening. The drawing room, Lucius, the wine... Lucius. They had been talking; she must have fallen asleep...unless there had been something in the wine. She wouldn't put it beyond him, though why he should do that did, for the moment, escape Hermione. Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. Tinky popped her head in. 'What would miss like for breakfast?'

'Oh, thank you, Tinky, I am not hungry.'

Upon hearing Hermione's answer, the elf's ears dropped. 'But master said to give miss breakfast.'

Of course; and if she refused, Tinky would be punished. Hermione sighed. 'Actually, I'd like a cup of coffee, please.'

Tinky visibly perked up. 'And toast? With jam?'

'Yes, toast would be nice.'

A much happier looking elf disappeared. Only minutes later, a silver tray materialised on the little table next to Hermione. It contained a cup of steaming hot coffee and a plate with two pieces of toast.

Hermione had to admit that she felt much better after her little repast. She buttoned up her robes, put her shoes back on and put the folded blanket on the sofa. Then she went to the library to pick up the notes she had originally come for the day before.

It seemed to be still very early, as both the corridors and the library were empty. She quickly found her missing notes and was just about to put them back into her bag when she noticed an odd pinkish glow from the back of the room. She went to investigate and found it coming from a shelf she had never seen before. As she bent down for a closer inspection, she saw that it was emanating from a small book which, by the looks of it, was very old. When she touched it, it flared up in bright gold and almost jumped into her hand. The front cover was blank; its pages were yellow with age and completely empty. How odd, Hermione thought, suddenly a bit suspicious of it as she put it back. She walked back to the table, the book floating after her unnoticed until it gently nudged her hand. Then, it lay motionless on the table right next to her bag. Hermione was familiar enough with the mechanics of magic to know that it wouldn't make any sense to try to put the book back again; it would only return to her. She quickly took out her wand and ran a few spells, but couldn't detect any signs of Dark Magic. She flipped through it again, yet the pages were still empty. She decided to leave it on the table and take another look at it in the following week, but, apparently, the book had other ideas because it slowly moved closer to her bag. Remembering the incident involving Ginny Weasley and a certain diary all too well, Hermione tried more diagnostic spells on the little book, still detecting no sign of anything sinister. Experimentally, she opened her bag to see what would happen. The little book quickly scurried into it. 'If you insist,' Hermione said, hoping that nobody would mind if she borrowed it.

She was on her way to the front door when a familiar voice greeted her. 'Miss Granger. I trust you slept well?'

She turned around to see Lucius Malfoy standing at the foot of the stairs. 'Yes, thank you ... did you drug me?' She blurted out.

The corners of his mouth twitched. 'No, Miss Granger, you managed that rather well on your own.'

Was he actually smiling? It looked extremely well on him. Hermione thought that it would be nice to see his smile more often and felt suddenly very embarrassed. 'Right, I'll be going, then,' she murmured. 'Oh, and Happy Christmas.'

'Happy Christmas, Miss Granger.'

~*~

Hermione returned home to find a puzzled Crookshanks staring at Harry's head poking out of her fireplace. A small heap of parcels lay in front of it. Harry grinned. 'Happy Christmas. Presents, those are from your parents and that is mine. Oh, and where have you been? I was a bit worried.'

'I was at the manor,' Hermione answered.

'What, this early? On Christmas day?'

'Actually, I stayed the night.' Hermione tried very hard not to blush, despite the fact that there was nothing to blush about.

Harry stared at her. 'You spent the night? With Lucius Malfoy? Are you out of your mind?'

Now Hermione was definitely blushing. 'I didn't say I spent the night with Lucius Malfoy. I said I stayed overnight. There's a difference, as you well know. And besides, Lucius Malfoy wouldn't look at me anyway; wrong heritage, remember?'

'And for once I am glad of it. Besides, I was only joking. Right, I'll see you at Neville's.' Harry's head disappeared.

Hermione dropped off her bag, fed Crookshanks and made some more coffee, though hers wasn't half as good as the coffee at the manor, and then went back to the living room to open her presents.

Instead, she found herself staring at the empty fireplace. Lucius would never look at her twice. All she'd ever be to him would be the Muggle-born he had to tolerate in his library to stay in good graces with the Ministry, though he would probably phrase that a bit differently.

Besides, she hated the man, didn't she? She knew he had refrained from any open hostilities at the end of the war. She also remembered Severus telling her in one of his more talkative moods during their shared library time that Voldemort had tortured Lucius in punishment for his "failures" in any way he could, short of actually killing him, and that he had taken the wizard's wand, leaving him powerless...which was one of the worst things a wizard could do to another. What if there was a grain of truth in what he had claimed at his trial, that he had merely tried to survive and to protect his family? That didn't make the things he had done any less horrible, but at least that was something she could understand. Still, he would never be interested in someone like her.

If only she could get his smile and the image of his finger tracing the rim of his glass out of her head. With a sigh, she returned her attention to her presents, not noticing that the little book soared out of her bag to land on her bedside table where it fell open at a certain page with another golden gleam.

~*~

Hermione's head was bent low over her manuscript when she had the feeling of someone watching her. She glanced at Severus, whose posture resembled her own, then looked up to find Lucius standing in the door to the library, his eyes on her. How long had he been there? Seeing that she had noticed him, Lucius strode forward and put the ancient book bound in black leather he had been carrying on the table. 'I think I may have found what you were looking for.'

'You have found the keys?' Severus asked, a note of incredulity in his voice.

'At least one of them. My ancestors found it advisable not to keep all of their books in one place.'

'Thanks, that is great.' Hermione reached for the book, then stopped her hand. Looking at him she asked. 'Is it safe for me to handle it?'

'Yes, I removed all protective spells from it.'

Hermione opened the book; as she looked through it, she exclaimed, 'That is fantastic; it's exactly what we need.'

She pushed the book towards Severus who leafed through it as well, stopping here and there to check something. He nodded. 'Yes, that looks, indeed, like it could be a breakthrough. What a timely coincidence you could locate it just now, Lucius.'

'Indeed.'

~*~

He was stretched out on the large bed in all his naked glory. And glorious he was, his elegant hands tied to the headboard with silver-grey, silken scarves, his hair spread out over the pillow. He looked at her kneeling between his thighs, his eyes clouded with lust. Hermione twirled the feather she was holding in her hands. She bent forward a little and ran it very slowly down his right arm, over his collarbones and up his left arm, enjoying the little shivers her action caused in him. She started down the left arm, but this time she lingered on his collarbone and then very swiftly swiped the feather over his left nipple. Satisfied with the little sigh that came out of his mouth, she did the same thing to the right nipple and then went up the right arm. This time, the sighs sounded a little impatient. Hermione grinned as she caressed his nipples again, then his belly and the place where his hip joined his thigh. He whimpered, jutting his hips upward. 'Patience, dear.'

'I love to hear you beg. Still not very precise, my dear, but I guess I'll have to improvise a little then, won't I?' With that Hermione bent forward again and licked up and down his length, causing Lucius to moan louder in response. She smiled and took him in her mouth...

'That doesn't make any sense.'

Her daydream rudely interrupted, Hermione shot back. 'What doesn't make any sense?'

Severus looked at her oddly for a moment before he answered, 'This translation. The original code was less garbled than this, this is completely useless.'

Hermione snatched the parchment from him. 'Fine. I don't remember asking for your judgement.'

'No, but you did ask for my opinion. Believe me, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered.' He scowled.

She had indeed asked him what he thought of the page in question, she now remembered. 'I suppose I did. Sorry. Any idea where I went wrong?' As an offer of peace she held the piece of parchment out to him again.

He took it back, and his expression softened a little. 'I think this here needs to be different...and that.' He circled the passages with his quill before he handed the page back to her.

Hermione looked at the corrections he had made and saw immediately what he meant. It was obvious; how could she have overlooked it? She started over again, and to her satisfaction, the sentences now began to make sense. After a while she glanced up again to see Severus still looking at her, his face inscrutable.

'Are you sure you're all right, Miss Granger? You have been working very hard; maybe you should take a little break?'

Hermione was surprised by his concern. 'No, thanks, I am fine. I was just a bit distracted.'

'Very well. Let me know if you need anything.'

Hermione knew exactly what she needed; their host, preferably naked, and soon. Unfortunately, that was not likely to happen.

The host in question chose just that moment to make an appearance.

'Miss Granger, Severus, would you like to join me for tea?'

~*~

Tea was served in the drawing room. For Hermione, the room no longer held any horrors. She had deliberately gone back to it after the New Year, this time in daylight. The first time when she had gone in there at night, she hadn't noticed that it had been redecorated since the war and now looked completely different from what she remembered. No memories assaulted her this time as she looked around, actually seeing how beautiful the room now was. It seemed that her outburst on Christmas Eve had once and for all taken care of the old ghosts.

They sat down on the sofa and the armchairs that were grouped around the fireplace. Hermione watched in fascination as a silver tea tray materialised on the little table next to them. It contained a steaming teapot, three tea cups, a matching milk jug and a sugar bowl all made of finest white china. There also were two plates. One held sandwiches, the other an assortment of biscuits.

Hermione couldn't keep from smiling. She had just met the first person who kept to the rather aristocratic ritual of afternoon tea, cucumber sandwiches included. When she was younger, tea had meant mostly an early dinner. But then again the world of her childhood was as different as could be from the world Lucius lived in. Her parents weren't poor by any standards. They were educated, open-minded people who kept a comfortable, modern home. She had loved their house with the little garden, but it was completely different from the ancient glory of Malfoy Manor.

Recently, she often wondered what it must be like to live in a world that was so shaped by inherited traditions and affluence, and to be so sure of one's place in that world, to never have any doubt where one belonged.

She looked at Severus, wondering what his childhood teas had been like. From what Harry had told her of the memories he had seen, she knew Severus had been working-class and poor and that his home had not been a happy one. If her suspicions about him were correct, he must have felt even more alone than she had when she had first started at Hogwarts. And what a terrible price he had paid for trying to find a place in their world. At least now he seemed to be content enough, and working with him was very agreeable.

Lucius poured the tea into a cup. 'Miss Granger, how do you take your tea?'

'A drop of milk and no sugar, please,' she answered.

Lucius added the milk and handed her the cup, then he proceeded to prepare a cup for Severus and himself. Hermione noticed that he knew how Severus took his tea, so obviously this wasn't a first. She felt almost special at being included. Both men took milk, but no sugar. She waited until all were served before she tasted the tea. As could be expected, it was excellent.

'That's very nice. I've never tasted tea like this before.'

Lucius smiled at her compliment. 'Thank you. I have it blended especially as I find none of the brands available to my taste.'

All three took a moment to savour their tea.

'Severus, I talked to Daphne at Dust and Mildew today. She said they'd be happy to publish your book. Would you like me to negotiate a contract with them?'

Severus said, 'Yes, why don't you do that since you seem to get along rather well with her.'

'Yes, she seems to like me, which is helpful when one is doing business together.'

Hermione was certain that the poor woman didn't stand a chance against Lucius; Severus would get a very good deal on his book. She felt a tiny pang. Just how well did Lucius get along with her?

'Miss Granger, have you thought about publishing your research? If you do, I'd be happy to be of assistance,' Lucius said.

'No, I don't even know if I can. I assume the Ministry would want to see it first.'

Severus frowned. 'In that case, it'll never see the light of day.'

Despite her own experiences with her employers, Hermione asked, 'Why?'

'It's too dangerous. Too close to the Dark Arts. The people running the Ministry now believe in a world that is either good or bad, nothing in between. Your research touches on too many areas they'd rather stay away from. Besides, if your results become public, the whole committee will be exposed for the fools that they are for not giving you that grant. If you make your findings available to the Ministry, they'll just disappear as one subaltern after another has to approve yet another minor detail,' Severus stated matter-of-factly.

Hermione knew that he was right, but wasn't ready to admit it. 'Maybe it simply isn't that relevant.'

'Miss Granger, fishing for compliments is unworthy of you. You know quite well what you are capable of.'

She smiled at Severus's compliment, however veiled it had been. She liked the way he slightly inclined his head in response to her smile. 'What do you suggest I do?'

'First and foremost, it's your work, so you decide what to do with it. If you decide to publish it independently from the Ministry, there is little they can do about it,' Severus said.

'You mean apart from firing me.' Hermione watched as Lucius selected one of the chocolate-covered biscuits. He caught her eyes and made a show of taking a bite, delicately licking a morsel of the chocolate off, and then slowly eating the rest with ostentatious relish. She swallowed.

She turned to find Severus observing her, his black eyes intense with something she couldn't discern, his face once again inscrutable. His gaze did nothing to quieten down the wriggly things that had somehow taken up residence in her stomach.

~*~

Clouds of smoke were hanging over the bubbling cauldron. Good thing she knew how to Conjure portable fires, Hermione thought, otherwise she wouldn't be able to brew her own potions in her kitchen. She stirred twice more clockwise. Checking on the instructions in the little book again, she proceeded to tip the Ashwinder eggs into the cauldron; seven counter clockwise stirs followed, then the potion was almost ready...except for one vital ingredient. She took the sharp silver dagger, remembering how adamant the instructions had been at that point, and cut off a strand of her hair. She hesitated for a second, took a deep breath and let the hairs slip into the cauldron. There was a low hiss before the potion turned into a clear liquid from which multicoloured spirals of steam rose.