Five

Voldemort Plus Ten: 2008

The time: Sunday

An hour with the computer and two mugs of coffee saw Hermione no closer to finding any answers to the tax problem. Despite the caffeine and the hangover potion she'd consumed, she still felt fuzzy-headed and was starting to get impatient with the computer, the kitchen, the fly that had got trapped inside the window, and the two men who were still sleeping like babies in her lounge. A walk seemed appealing.

She went to look at her unexpected and somnolent guests. Lucius was stretched out on the sofa, shirtless, one arm flung above his head and his white-blond hair framing his face. In repose, he still looked like an arrogant bastard, but there was a humorous curve to his mouth which alleviated the effect. Time was kind to wizards, she thought, admiring his torso and muscular arms. In his early fifties, he had a body that most men twenty years younger would envy. She turned to Severus, her face softening. He had pushed the coffee table aside and made himself a bed of cushions on which he lay on his front, bundled up in a blanket. She risked kneeling by him and gently smoothing the hair away from his face so she could see his profile – such a wonderful great beak of a nose, such a kissable lower lip....

She left the flat silently, thankful they hadn't woken.

Of course, she was forgetting that she was dealing with Slytherins.

"So, what does the note say?" asked Lucius without moving.

Severus sat up, making a face as the movement caused his head to spin. He picked up the piece of paper Hermione had left on the table.

"'Towels and toothbrushes in the bathroom; hangover potion and coffee in the kitchen. Won't be long'," he read aloud, adding, "I do like the way she uses a semicolon – most people would make do with a dash."

"She's considerate. I'm pleasantly surprised by her in general. And I don't mean her punctuation."

Severus snorted.

"Don't you think it was a bit over the top for you to display yourself like the cover of Playwitch?"

"Would you have preferred the centrefold? But in any case, I don't think you have much to fear, judging by the way she looked at you! Why don't you take the shower first and make yourself even lovelier for her return?"

It wasn't that Severus wasn't tempted to blow a raspberry – he just didn't want to give Lucius the satisfaction.

*

By the time Hermione came back, the debris from the previous night had been cleaned away and her guests were showered and smug. This earned them a big smile, but seconds later, when she went into the kitchen, she let out a chagrined cry of "Oh, shit!" that brought them both to attention.

"Who the bloody hell used magic?!" she demanded. "My bloody computer's only gone and crashed! It's completely scrambled and it's going to take forever to get it back to rights!"

Lucius was confused. The 'computer' was sitting untouched on the kitchen table, exactly where she had left it. No sign of a crash or even minor damage.

"My dear Hermione, naturally we used magic – you wouldn't expect us to clear up with our bare hands, would you?"

Hermione was, frankly, rather astonished that Lucius had involved himself in the clearing up at all. She drew a deep breath, seeking patience.

"I don't suppose you'd know, Lucius," – though you ought to said the glance she sent Severus – "but magic and Muggle electronics don't mix. At all." She jabbed at the keys and swore again. "My computer has gone belly-up thanks to your noble and much-appreciated efforts." The 'appreciation' bit came out through gritted teeth. "And to cap it all, it's new! I only bought it three weeks ago and..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Oooh! The bastard!" she spat. "The complete and utter swine! I bloody do pay his bloody taxes! Seventeen-and-a-half percent in VAT on everything I buy in his precious bloody economy."

She stamped off to the shower, slamming the door and leaving Severus nonplussed and Lucius beginning to laugh.

"I've never before appreciated what it might be to have a Gryffindor on my side, dear friend, but I am beginning to think it might just be a good thing!" he chortled. "Be a good fellow and put the kettle on. I'll get breakfast."

By which it should not be understood that Lucius suddenly turned either his hand or his wand to mundane domestic tasks. Mr Malfoy's idea of 'getting breakfast' involved the rather more elaborate procedure of Apparating home and giving an exhaustive list of instructions to his household staff. He returned to Hermione's flat in order to drink a cup of tea and extend an invitation to a more civilised repast than the one they had shared the previous night.

*

The last Hermione had seen of Malfoy Manor had been through a haze of terror and pain, but the reassurance of Severus' embrace as he Apparated them both to the south terrace helped her to swallow her apprehension. Sunshine and the spectacular surroundings didn't hurt, either. Screaming, threats, and the crackle of hexes were all absent; in their place the rustle of a light breeze in the trees, and birdsong. Lucius was waiting for them at the open French window. He noted Hermione's hesitation at the threshold.

"Miss Granger – Hermione – allow me to apologise for what happened the last time you were here. Among the many things I regret from that time, that episode features strongly."

She gave him a slightly twisted smile.

"I dare say you had others to worry about who were more important than one troublesome Mudblood," she said, daring him.

"Quite. And how times have changed." He took her hand and bowed formally over it. "'Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely. And leave something of the happiness you bring!'" he quoted.*

Hermione burst out laughing. She would never have expected Lucius Malfoy to be capable of such delicate and at the same time gallant self-mockery.

"What about me?" said Severus, sounding wounded.

"You practically live here, dear boy, and I'm not about to kiss your scaly paw, no matter how delirious with joy you make me."

Brunch was delicious, but over the perfect eggs benedict, toasted muffins, and other delicacies, they felt the need to address the problem that Arthur had so carelessly saddled them with.

Hermione leaned forward on her elbows, frowning as she outlined the situation.

"Now, we've bought a little time over the tax thing as a whole in that Arthur got the PM to agree to start with you and you only, Lucius. This means we can focus, and don't have to go running around from pillar to post putting out fires everywhere while we work out how to get out of this. And we can keep it quiet, so the whole of wizard-kind doesn't go on an indignant rampage."

"You'll have to put the fear of Abaddon into Arthur to keep his trap shut, Hermione. You know what he's like," said Severus seriously. "I think it will be fairly safe to assume the PM won't be in a hurry to start flapping his mouth about wizards and magic, but Arthur..."

"Oh, come on, Severus – he went through two wars showing he could keep secrets, didn't he?"

"I know. But he's got entirely too comfortable of late, and goes around gossiping like everyone's favourite maiden aunt."

"I think we can be fairly sure that a word from me will reduce his sense of comfort significantly," said Lucius. "I put him in that job and I can just as easily take him out again."

"You put him...?" Hermione was surprised.

"Surely you don't think I've spent the past ten years twiddling my thumbs, dear girl?" Lucius exclaimed. "The general public might want to pretend I don't exist, but money and information still go a long way towards controlling events. I got rid of Shacklebolt seven years ago when my wife ran off with him, and I installed Weasley five years later when it was plain nobody even remotely competent could be found without my intervention. It was sheer good fortune for the whole community that he brought you with him."

Hermione was caught between shock at Lucius' blatant and conscienceless manipulation, and pleasure at the compliment to herself.

"Well, anyway," she continued, "the bad news is that the PM wants to tax you not only on your income – and for some reason he feels he can do you for back-taxes covering the last twenty years – but also on your inheritance, no matter how long ago you came into it." She looked around her at the splendour and elegance of the breakfast parlour.

There was a brief silence.

"And when, exactly, were you planning to let me in on this, Severus?" asked Lucius.

"When you had finished having tantrums about the audacity of taxing you at all," he replied, unfazed by his friend's suddenly icy demeanour. "And probably also once you were too drunk to cast any hexes – only by then I was having too much of a good time myself to remember." He glanced at Hermione.

"So you thought you'd let me do it, did you?" she countered.

"Well, it does seem to have worked out that way, doesn't it?" he replied blandly. "Besides which, Lucius has entirely too much style to hex a lady over breakfast."

On the other hand.... Lucius smirked at the memory of his last dinner with Narcissa.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Severus.

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Children..." threatened Malfoy, but he was looking amused.

"Sorry. Right – as I see it, our first move has to be to arrange as much of a delay as possible, while we continue to try to either find a way out of this or persuade the PM that it is a Very Bad Idea," Hermione resumed.

Lucius looked at his fingernails.

"I'm quite happy to do that sort of persuading," he offered.

"I think we'll keep that as a very last resort, thank you," she said primly.

"So what did you have in mind?" asked Severus.

"Well, Severus, since you're obviously going to be the official liaison between Number 10 and the Ministry, I think you need to be very convincing to the PM about your discovery of the infinite and labyrinthine processes of wizarding bureaucracy –"

"Not too difficult, as it's the truth."

"– while I continue to look for a get-out or at least a loophole. And you, Lucius...," she said, turning to him.

"Bossy, isn't she?" Lucius remarked.

"...need to talk to the goblins about the best ways of hiding your wealth, at least temporarily."

"Perhaps we might do that together," he suggested.

"But surely you don't need us to hold your hand?"

"Not at all, in one sense, but the goblins' systems make ours look like simplicity itself, and having you two high-flyers flanking me might look sufficiently impressive to speed things along a little."

"As if you can't do 'impressive as all hell' in your sleep," teased Hermione, blushing rosily when she realised what she'd said.

They discussed it a little more, but there wasn't much else to say until they had more information. Lucius eventually set down his cup and rose from the table.

"Severus, have you the energy to continue in the library? Draco has managed to recover some of the texts that were sent abroad, and they are waiting for you. I'd like to know whether they are intact or not before we replace them in the collection."

"Are they the Third Kingdom potions scrolls?" asked Severus, his dark eyes suddenly alight as he practically bounded from his chair, heading for the door.

Hermione very much wanted to follow him, but Lucius was speaking to her even as Severus disappeared from view.

"Hermione, I am sure you would like to see something of the grounds. I should be delighted to show you, and the dogs need some exercise." He noted her reluctance. "Let him play with his toys alone, my dear, until he is ready to show them off to you. Come along with me for the present."

He tucked her slightly resisting hand into his arm and stepped onto the terrace. They walked round the end of the house (which took quite a long time) discussing the landscaping and other such neutral topics, until they reached the archway into a large and well-kept stable yard. Lucius clicked his fingers, and two enormous wolfhounds trotted into view. Unknown to Hermione, her approval rating received a tremendous boost from the way she immediately greeted them, holding out her hands for the smell test. She passed. The dogs were leaners, and nearly pushed her off her feet vying for her attention as she sought out the best scratchy places.

"How wonderful!" she exclaimed. "What are their names?"

Lucius looked a little uncomfortable, so she fumbled at the collars to examine the tags.

"'Whim' and 'Caprice'?" she giggled.

"My son's idea of a joke. He gave them to me as puppies, a few years ago." Lucius caressed the dogs' ears and led the way to the stables.

To Hermione, it spoke volumes both that the dogs clearly adored him, and that he had kept their teasing names. He was gentle with the horses, too, as he passed by their boxes, greeting them with a pat or a word.

"Do you ride, Miss Granger?"

"I haven't been on a horse since I was ten."

"How scandalous. You will find some appropriate clothing in the second tack room."

Narcissa's jodhpurs made Hermione think evil thoughts about skinny women, but a Charm made them just about big enough, and Lucius deeply admired the close fit. He was already mounted when she emerged. He was breathtaking, she had to admit. Put a powerful man on a powerful black horse and... hello, hormones! Still, she wasn't going to think about that. She was also very careful not to think about it when he helped her down an hour later, making sure that their bodies grazed along their entire length before he stepped back as if nothing had happened.

"I'm sure Severus will be in the library, if you want to find him now," he said.

*

He wasn't.

But a house-elf directed her to his suite of rooms, which is where she found him reading, not an ancient papyrus, but the Sunday Times.

With bright eyes and flushed cheeks, her hair escaping in wild curls from its plait, and immodestly tight jodhpurs encasing her hips, buttocks and thighs, she made an enchanting picture, Severus thought tiredly, the hangover fatigue having finally triumphed over the potion. She came bounding over to him and he recoiled involuntarily. Damn Lucius, sending her up here stinking of horse – he knew it was a smell he couldn't abide. And now Hermione looked as though she'd been slapped, all the sparkle fading from her gaze. He stood up.

"I – excuse me, I... dislike the smell of the stables," he said awkwardly, lapsing unconsciously into the expressionless tone he used in everyday life.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I didn't know." She turned to leave.

"Perhaps you would like to use my bathroom?" he suggested hastily as her hand closed on the doorknob.

He tried his best to concentrate on the newspaper, but the thought of Hermione Granger naked in his shower made even the style pages incomprehensible. He was chewing absently on his pen while gazing blankly at the puzzles when she emerged, swathed in a bath robe much too big for her.

For her part, Hermione found the shower an interesting experience, knowing that Severus Snape was in the next room. He was chewing on a biro when she emerged, his bath robe draped loosely round her body. The pen pulled at his lower lip enticingly. He frowned as he looked up. He frowned when she took his face in her hands and lowered her mouth to his. And he frowned when she sat on his lap and deepened the kiss. Hermione didn't mind. She loved his frown. It was a challenge.

Lucius permitted himself a smile when he let himself silently into Severus' living room to return Hermione's clothes. He stayed for a while to listen to the sounds coming from the bedroom. It had been a minor stroke of brilliance to neglect to tell her about the showers in the stable block. Not for nothing is one a Slytherin.

*

Hermione had seen through the ploy fairly quickly, and found she didn't mind at all. But the relationship between the two men intrigued her.

"When did you and Lucius become friends?" she asked Severus, snuggling closer to him under the covers.

His arms tightened around her.

"Do you really think this is the time to talk about Lucius?" he grumbled.

"He made this happen."

An unintelligible mutter in her hair.

"For which I shall carefully not express my extreme gratitude next time I see him," she added.

"Yes, he'll be insufferably pleased with himself as it is."

"So...?"

"I see you've never lost your habit of asking annoying questions."

She waited, gently stroking his long fingers where they lay on her waist.

"Very well, Hermione," he sighed, rolling onto his back. "Lucius took me under his wing when I first arrived at Hogwarts. I don't think anyone was more surprised than I was – the glamour boy of Slytherin adopting a half-blood runt – but you have to understand that there is an immensely strong bond of loyalty in our House. Lucius taught me how to defend myself against those Gryffindor thugs, and he patched me up after every encounter, before I became proficient. I worshipped him, I think. Then he left, but he still wrote from time to time – perhaps he saw potential in me, I don't know – and there were gifts. It was probably of little significance to him, but for me.... I would have done anything for him, and I did. And once it became very clear what a monumental mistake it was to tie ourselves to Voldemort, I think he felt responsible. There has been liking between us for a long time; during the final year of the last war, necessity taught us to trust each other. That's all there is."

Apart from the myriad details, the risks, the fear, the shame..., she thought.

"He still looks after you, doesn't he?" she said aloud.

Severus snorted.

"Even to the extent of engineering this," he said bitterly. "Hermione, I'm too –"

"Shh! Forget all the 'too old, too ugly, too damaged, too whatever' stuff, right now. Lucius may have hastened us to this point, but he engineered nothing." She kissed him, then drew back to look seriously into his eyes. "Believe me, Severus."

He drew her close again, gradually drifting off to sleep. Hermione remained awake for longer. She looked around her at the elegant bedroom, thought about the enormous house and estate, and considered the man who lived there, alone but for his one friend.

And you look after him, too – don't you? she added silently.

*

Author Note:

Lucius' quotation as he invites Hermione into Malfoy Manor:

"'Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely. And leave something of the happiness you bring!'"

These are the words spoken by the Count to Jonathan Harker on his arrival at Castle Dracula. From chapter 2 of Dracula by Bram Stoker.