Chapter 2

Author's Note: Many thanks to my beta, Soul Bound (any remaining shortcomings are mine, of course).

Disclaimer: Disclaiming ownership of anything that rightfully belongs to someone else.

CHAPTER TWO

In the following weeks, Hermione wasn't sure what was actually happening to her. They saw a lot of each other. Lucius would visit her at the office at impossible moments ('I've got a meeting in seven minutes, Lucius... No, that's NOT enough time'), call at her house – preferably when she was taking a shower ('Ah, well, you can join me if you like'), overload her with gifts ('How did you know I love cinnamon tea?' 'Oh, Lucius... you really shouldn't...'), but never did he say anything that went beyond the present moment. Nothing to indicate that something of a more permanent nature was there; on the other hand, he said nothing to indicate that he was seeing other women – after all, he had been divorced for years. Still, he said nothing to indicate that he actually felt anything for her apart from their obvious mutual sexual desire, which never seemed to abate and which made it impossible for her to put an end to this. And mutual it certainly was; once during their lovemaking he had whispered into her ear that he was becoming entirely addicted to her, that he could not get enough of her. And he proved it by his actions: when they were together, he could never keep his hands off her for long. It was the one thing she held on to.

A few times, after the first ten days, she had tried to protect herself and put an end to the affair, telling him that she found their meetings rather too frequent, that she needed more time to herself, that she did not want to impose on his time either. But she knew that he knew her arguments were hollow and her reluctance fake. She knew that she was falling for him hopelessly and completely with hardly any chance of a return. And she knew that her feeble and desperate attempts to end this affair were only attempts to save herself from some of the pain that would inevitably follow as soon as he'd become bored of her. She had no idea how he interpreted these attempts, and he did not tell her. All he did was ignore them or wave them away, making her forget everything by his brilliant smiles and breathtaking kisses. And after the next ten days she gave up, let go of her rational arguments, pushed her worries about his past and his true character to the background of her thoughts, and just enjoyed being with him, always thinking about him and longing for him.

***

One day, when she was at the Ministry for the arrangement of some grants for a new research project (and of course hoping to meet Lucius), she passed Arthur Weasley's office. She was on the point of knocking because she had not seen Ron's father for some time. But she heard voices inside and she hesitated.

'I'm sorry, Severus, but I find that difficult to believe,' she heard Mr Weasley's voice. 'It's a little too easy. I know he used to be your friend, and he is my colleague now, but how can you think that he's more than just a calculating opportunist?'

Ah, so the other person was Snape! Hermione tried to breathe as silently as possible. Apparently they were discussing Lucius. She knew she should not be eavesdropping, but she felt that it was completely pardonable in this case. This was her chance to find out something more about that complicated man she felt so strongly about.

'No, Arthur,' she heard Snape's deep voice. 'You've got it wrong. That's not entirely your fault. I know he is doing all to keep up this appearance. It started as pure self-preservation, and now it's become so much of a habit to him that he cannot let go of it. But there is more to him – trust me. We've known each other very well ever since we met as boys. He has never exposed me to the Dark Lord, either willingly or unwillingly, yet I'm certain that he must have had his suspicions about me for years. And he must have taken the trouble to hide them from the Dark Lord too, which really means something, as you well know. Give him the benefit of the doubt, at least a bit.'

Silence. Hermione still stood in the hallway, pressed against the wall, pulse racing.

Then Mr Weasley finally answered. 'I hope you're right, Severus,' he said. 'I'd hate to see you duped. You don't deserve that.' His voice was kind and friendly.

Snape cleared his throat. 'I won't be duped, Arthur,' he said. And in a much softer tone so that Hermione could hardly make out the words: 'And neither will someone else.'

Before Mr Weasley could say more, Snape swept out of the room too quickly for Hermione to pretend that she had not been listening. When he saw her, he immediately closed the door of Mr Weasley's office behind him.

'Good afternoon, Miss Granger,' he said matter-of-factly. 'We haven't met for quite a while. You look rather well these days. I presume your work is progressing?'

Hermione nodded. She did not trust her voice.

Snape took a long look at her and then gave her something that, for him, really looked like a smile.

'I'm glad of that, Miss Granger,' he said. 'But then I've always trusted your good judgment. Maybe you should have more faith in it yourself. Good afternoon.' And he walked away, robes billowing, leaving a wide-eyed and very puzzled Hermione behind.

She leaned against the wall, thinking. Did Snape know something about her and Lucius? Maybe Lucius had told him; they were friends after all. Or maybe he had seen them somewhere. No – Draco! Draco and Snape were rather close. Draco was still not entirely happy to see her around so much, she knew, so he would not have bothered to keep their secret, especially not to his godfather. Well, it hardly mattered how Snape had found out. The far more important thing was that Snape trusted Lucius. Snape thought there was more to Lucius than he chose to show. If Snape didn't know, who would? And what about Snape's final remark – that he trusted her good judgment? Was it a warning not to get involved too much? Or was it his way to express his approval? Probably the latter since he had smiled when he'd said it. Yes, she definitely preferred the latter.

***

This little scene made a great difference in Hermione's feelings about her situation. She had known Snape far too long not to have the greatest regard for his opinion. And as Lucius' friend, he certainly was in a position to know.

She knew that she might still be fooling herself, but she felt that this information provided her with an excuse not to give up on Lucius yet, even if she were able to. She kept a close watch on his behaviour towards her and tried to decide what it meant. It was true that he never made promises, never talked of anything that remotely resembled a commitment. But she remembered her surprise at his attentive and considerate behaviour ever since their first meeting; he was usually careful of her comfort and well-being, observant of her habits and needs. He seemed truly interested in her work, asking questions about it and remembering her answers. He had demonstrated as much when she'd shown him a part of her research and he'd made all the right comments. He showed much respect for her opinion and obviously admired her stamina when it came to scholarly research. He never said it, but he acted as if he cared for her. Maybe he was not one of those wrong men after all.

And then there were the discussions. Lucius kept luring her into defending her views on friendship and affection, loyalty and faith. He always ridiculed her sentimental notions as he called them, but somehow she got the feeling that he truly was interested in what made people on the 'good side' tick. Of course, since Voldemort's defeat, he had officially been on the 'good side' himself. But he had never yet told her how he really felt about it, and she did not always dare to believe what she had overheard at the Ministry. She sometimes doubted her interpretation of Snape's parting words. Lucius insisted that he was primarily practical in all social matters, though she found his recurring questions a little suspicious. But she knew she was prejudiced and thinking wishfully, hoping for her dream to come true.

And she rejoiced that, after three full months, he still seemed not to have lost any interest in her, his calls becoming even more frequent.

***

They were sitting on the sofa in front of the fire in his drawing room when he started one of those conversations again.

'Oh, come on, Hermione – you're not that young and naive. You must have noticed that most people just use each other and call it friendship. And why wouldn't they since all parties benefit from it?' he said in a slightly amused tone.

'Oh, Lucius, we've had this sort of talk before. I don't want to talk to you about friendship and love anymore.' Because that reminds me of the one-sidedness of it between us.

'I'm curious to hear your opinion – you know that,' he said. 'I've always looked upon love as a mere convenience, furthering one's own interests by attending to that of some chosen other's.'

'No, that's just not true. Without love, life is unbearable for most of us.'

'So where does that leave me?' he said. 'How can I live, selfish, opportunistic, and power-seeking being that I am?'

She sighed. 'Maybe there is some true affection inside you, though you may not be conscious of it,' she said. 'Have you ever had any disinterested sympathy for anything or anyone? Your ex-wife, your son maybe?'

His face became cold and harsh for a moment. 'Not my ex-wife,' he said. He saw a look on her face that he did not immediately recognize. He had expected to see relief because he knew very well that she was much more involved in this affair than she had admitted as yet. But instead, she looked at him pityingly.

'I'm sorry to hear that, Lucius,' she said. 'You have deprived yourself of the very best things in life.'

He did not answer her, but raked up the fire a little more.

Hermione sighed. She was sick of this kind of conversation. And she was sick of hoping against hope. She was tired of pretending to take it all as lightly as he seemed to do. Maybe it was time for drastic measures. Maybe she should try to call his bluff. And admit it – you're hoping that just maybe Snape is right and that there really is more to him than meets the eye... that he may be capable of love after all... Keep dreaming! she scolded herself.

'You know, Lucius,' she said, taking a deep breath, 'actually you're a cheat.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'How so, my dear?'

'You are the one using others, and you pretend that others are doing exactly the same so that you don't need to feel guilty. But you can only do that because others don't. You're exploiting the values of the rest of society while despising them. You laugh at others who hold up certain values, but it's only at their expense that you can do without those values.'

By the faint light of the fire, she could see his face harden.

'Well, I see what our Severus means by calling you a know-it-all,' he said. 'You've got me completely figured out, haven't you?'

She said nothing. She wished she had the courage to answer, No, I hope not. I hope I'm wrong. I hope you'll contradict me and show me that you do know how to love...

He turned to her and grabbed her shoulders, and she knew that she had made him angry.

'Shall I tell you something, Hermione?' he said in a dangerously low voice. 'It's been your precious society that has cheated me. I grew up around people who took it for granted that I would be just like them – without giving me a choice – people who expected me to join the Dark and give up on everything else. Have you any idea of the price we paid?'

Hermione tried to move back a little, but his grip on her shoulders was becoming almost painfully strong. The lines in his face were sharply drawn in the firelight, and the fire seemed to burn in his eyes. She realized that finally, finally he was giving her a glimpse of the real Lucius.

'Well, have you any idea?' he repeated in the same low voice. 'No, of course not. You just gloried in being a member of the Order, safely and soundly tucked up in all the right ideas and principles. You had the luxury of despising us without anyone expecting you to try and understand something of our motives. What do you know of the pressure... of the constraints and the compulsions... the blackmail... the horrors... the fear for oneself and one's family...'

He let her go now and wrapped his arms around himself.

'What do you know of switching off that button simply to survive...' he said. 'You never had to... You were never really alone...'

She tried to lay her hand on his arm, but he moved away from her.

He held up his left arm where the Dark Mark showed. It was clearly lined and unquiet, as if something stirred beneath. He cursed.

'What?' she said anxiously.

'It hurts,' he gasped. 'It always hurts a little, but now it hurts like in the old days when he summoned us...' His voice trailed away, and she saw him biting his lips. He grabbed his wrist with his right hand. She pushed his hand away and laid her own hands around his arm, covering the Mark. He stifled a cry.

'Please don't,' he begged. 'You're making it worse.'

But she kept holding his arm, and after a while, she felt him relaxing.

'The pain is gone,' he said at last.

She let his arm go, and he grabbed for his wand on the small table next to the sofa. 'Lumos,' he said. With his right hand, he held the lit wand next to his left arm. The Mark was not entirely gone, but the dark lines had changed into white ones, like a very old scar.

Hermione watched his arm, not daring to break the silence, and then she looked up to his face. His expression was relaxed again, more relaxed than she had ever seen it. He finally put back the wand and averted his gaze from his arm to her eyes.

'You little witch...' he said in a low voice. 'What in Merlin's name have you done to me?'

'Nothing, Lucius,' she said. 'I had no idea this would happen.'

'No, no,' he said impatiently. 'What have you been doing to me these last few months?'

She shrugged. 'Satisfying your curiosity and fulfilling your sexual needs,' she said with a tinge of bitterness in her tone. 'And my own, of course.'

He turned to her and took her face between his hands.

'You don't mean that,' he said. 'That's not how you feel, Hermione. I know it isn't. But you're afraid that that's how I feel about it, aren't you?'

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. 'Of course you are. I've not given you any reason to think otherwise.'

He slowly pulled her towards him and enfolded her in his arms, her face hidden against his chest, his hand on her hair. She felt warm and welcome there. It was the first time that she had shown him some of her anxiety, and she hardly dared to believe the tender, loving way in which he was comforting her.

'Do you know what things I remember when I think of you and of our meetings, my Hermione?' he whispered. 'You think I only remember the passion, but I don't... I see you making tea for me, carefully watching it so that it's exactly the right shade... putting in exactly the right amount of honey... I see you folding up my clothes when you think I've fallen asleep... I see the shape of your arm when you push back my hair while we're making love... I often see that one time when there were tears in your eyes after I snapped at you for asking me to stay longer than I had planned; I saw how you tried to hide them, and I felt like a bastard for leaving you anyway... I see your smile when I unexpectedly drop by at your office... I feel the softness and the strength of your hands on my back when you massage me into sleep... I feel your lips on my cheek when you thank me for bringing you some small gift... Do you know why I bring you gifts so often...?'

He paused, and he felt her shake her head, her hair tickling his cheek. He tightened his hold on her.

'I do that,' he went on, still whispering, 'because I love that look of happy surprise in your eyes... I love the way you always kiss my cheek to thank me... I love to see you concentrating on a difficult academic problem... I love your beautiful, little ears, and I love the colour of your hair... I love your habit of holding my hand when we're falling asleep... I love your voice when you read to me or lecture me on one of those medieval sorcerers you're always working on...'

After another silence of a few seconds, he added, in such a low voice that she could barely hear him, 'I've been thinking... that maybe... I love you...'

She slightly moved in his arms, and he looked down in time to see her wiping a few tears from her face.

'Why are you crying, silly girl...?' he said with gentle concern in his voice. 'I'm telling you that I love you... I'm telling you that I'll never again go away when you ask me to stay... that I miss you every single day and night that we're not spending together...'

He held her very tightly now, murmuring soft little words into her ear while she cried. When she had become calmer, he wiped off her tears, pushed her down into the sofa cushions and moved over her; his arms were still around her while he was leaning on his elbows and watching her face in the feeble light intently as if he wanted to imprint every line of it on his memory.

She lifted her hand to his face. 'Dear Lucius,' she whispered, and she pulled his head down to kiss his cheek. 'You've just given me a gift, you know,' she reminded him.

He smiled at her, an open smile that she had not seen on his face before.

'But I think I'll have to return your gift this time... Do you mind?'

She saw him swallow and search for words, but he did not seem able to find any. Instead, he bowed his head and brushed her lips with his own softly and tenderly.

'Make love to me, Lucius...' she whispered. 'Please...'

He began to kiss her more thoroughly, his hands unbuttoning her dress, touching her breasts while he did so; she pushed up his shirt so that she could feel his bare skin against hers.

'No hurry,' he said close to her ear. 'This is actually our first time together, and I want to enjoy every second of it...'

Much later when they were nearly falling asleep, tired and utterly satisfied, she reached down and took his hand into her own. She saw him smile, but he did not open his eyes. He returned the pressure of her fingers.

'Good night, my sweet little witch,' he said. 'I love you... I never knew it felt so good to love...' He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

FINIS