Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Chapter One please.

---

"All right?" Harry asked as soon as Hermione entered.

"Yes," she said with a nod. "Ron?"

"Not home yet."

"Good."

"What is it?"

"I... Well, it was very interesting to say the least."

"And the book?"

She bit her lip and tried to think of what she could tell him that wouldn't go against her oaths to Lucius. She supposed for now it wouldn't hurt to just give him the bare facts. "He had it. I had a time of getting him to show me." She smiled to reassure him that all was well, though she wasn't quite as optimistic.

"Where is it?"

Her smile faded. "I left it there. It seems the book is contrary. It will only allow a reader to actually read it where it's first opened, so..."

"So you'll be spending time with the Malfoys then?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Not with them, no, but in their home," she said softly. "He's going to give me leave to use a room on my own."

"Why's he being so nice?"

"Er... well, I think he's truly trying to change. This is a gesture of friendship."

"Hmmm." Harry's expression had not changed. "What are you hiding from me?"

"N-nothing... much."

"I knew it!"

"Knew what?" Ron said, joining them. He leaned in to kiss Hermione's cheek.

"Knew that I'd fall into yet another research project," Hermione said quickly, uncertain why she truly didn't want Ron to know much details. She noted that Harry turned away angrily and poured himself a glass of water.

"Oh, well, that's sort of good because, uh, George... he wants me to go to France, see, and uh... there's this bloke who is interested in helping us start up a chain of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes there."

"Why doesn't he go?" Hermione asked in shock. "Shouldn't he be the one taking the break?"

"Well, he doesn't want to leave here," he said with a shrug. "Guess he feels closer to Fred... you know, where they started it all."

"How long will you be gone?" Harry asked.

"Maybe a week or so. It depends." He grinned and puffed out his chest importantly. "Went over it all with George today, and I think I'll do good enough." His glance moved back to Hermione. "And if you're going to be busy, the time will pass quicker for you...and me."

She smiled and nodded. "I will miss you though." And while that was true, she was relieved that she could use the time to be away from the house and to delve into the book.

He grinned and reddened slightly. "Er... want to go up?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," she agreed.

"Hermione, I'll be up early in the morning," Harry said, eyes boring into hers. "We can talk about your research then."

"Okay." She looked away quickly and allowed Ron to lead her upstairs to their bedroom. He was likely hoping that they could make love, seeing as they'd be apart for so many nights. She fully intended on doing so. Why not? She loved him. They should share this. He was the man she'd spend her life with. Why not let things carry on farther than ever before?

However, later, as she turned over with tears tracking her cheeks, she could only feel guilty that she'd been frigid again. Something had caused her to stop him. His obvious disappointment hurt her most of all. Why couldn't she go through with it? She wanted him, and he certainly aroused her, especially when he kissed her body all over and lingered on her center, giving her an explosive orgasm. What was wrong with her? What sort of person was she to allow him to do that but nothing more?

Oh, he'd seemed to enjoy the other things she did for him, but she knew deep down that he would have preferred to be inside of her when reaching climax. Damn it! It was as if some unknown force wouldn't allow her to go through with it.

When Ron had moved between her thighs, eyes looking at her in question, she'd had every intention of telling him to make love to her. Instead, her voice formed the words of a soft rejection. Perhaps she should speak with her mother and get advice. Surely there wasn't anything that had happened in her past that her mind had blocked out, yet subconsciously affected her.

She'd read about something like that before, and it was the only explanation she could think of. Other than someone having a jinx on her. But who would care about her sex life enough to do that? Hermione's eyes narrowed as she thought of someone meddling in her life that way. And then Molly Weasley's kind face flashed through her mind. Would she go that far to ensure that Ron and Hermione's relationship remained non-sexual?

That was also worth looking into... but later. She had something more pressing to deal with, and the break from Ron for the week would give them both time to cool down and get over the awkwardness of another failed attempt at lovemaking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione woke early, kissed a still sleeping Ron on the cheek, and went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. To her surprise, Harry and Kreacher were already in the kitchen, the elf hovering a pot over the fire while cleaning off a spoon.

"Oh... good morning," she said. "I was going to make breakfast."

"Kreacher will," Harry said. "We have to talk."

"You weren't joking when you said you'd be up early," she commented. "Let me get some juice."

"Kreacher, she'll have some juice," Harry said firmly and indicated the seat across from him. "Tell me."

"Harry, there are some things that I won't be able to tell you."

"Why?"

"I, uh, made wand oaths."

His expression changed to one of disbelief. "You can't be serious."

She raised her chin defiantly. "Very."

"You're smarter than that!" he roared, shaking his head, face contorted in a sneer.

Hermione hadn't ever seen Harry look at her that way and crossed her arms in front of her in a protective move instinctively. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," she began in a small voice. "That tome, Harry, it holds secrets. There are so many things that I can learn and put to use. I thought it would be worth it."

"Tell me everything. We'll find a way around this wand oath."

"The book would know. I can't."

"What? 'The book would know'?"

She nodded, pulled her wand from her sleeve, and cast a charm so that they wouldn't be overheard. She didn't want Ron to walk in again as he had the night before. "Lucius wa..."

"Lucius?"

It was her turn to sneer. "Yes, Lucius," she said firmly. "He warned me that the reason I'd been having these dreams is because the book wanted to make itself known to me. He feels it's sentient."

"Go on."

"Would you use anything that I say to you against him?"

"It would depend."

"Then I can't tell you everything. I made a wand oath not to divulge anything that might incriminate him to anyone that would use it against him."

"What's he told you about? Murder? Other crimes?"

She looked away and wished that she could simply tell him the truth about everything. Ignoring his questions, she said, "The book called to him in the past. He knows what it is capable of and will help me." Her hard gaze found Harry's. "That should be good enough for you. Trust me."

"I do trust you. It's Malfoy I don't trust."

"I was wary at first, too, but he seemed so helpful, so different. Can't we just give him the benefit of the doubt?"

"What else can you tell me?"

And here she debated on what she could say. There was no way she could let on that she knew where Snape's body was or who'd taken it. However, she did know that if Harry would ever wish for anything, it would be to bring back the dead. Hermione decided to use this to get his acquiescence. "I think it wants to show me how to bring someone back."

His expression softened. "Hermione, as much as I would like that, Dumbledore said that there's no true way to bring someone back."

"With all due respect to the headmaster, Harry, I'd bet that Dumbledore didn't know this."

"Because it's not common knowledge."

"Yes."

And it's dark, very dark."

She nodded.

"Then why didn't Malfoy bring his old mate Voldemort back?"

Hermione's cheeks heated, and her eyes widened slightly. What could she say? She couldn't tell him the truth. Instead, she whispered, "Who's to say he didn't try?"

Harry sat back and stared at her for a moment. "The diary. That's why he sent it to Hogwarts. He wouldn't have known anything otherwise."

She bit her lip and looked away. He'd guessed it right. Surely this wouldn't count against her. There was no hum of magic, no telltale signs of any curse.

"And if you're quiet, that means I'm right."

"I didn't say that you were."

"But I am. I can tell."

"Don't you see?" she said finally. "I can't just walk away from this opportunity, even if it's Lucius Malfoy who's helping me. The past will have to stay in the past...for now...while I go through this book."

"And what if you get hurt along the way? I can't just stand by and allow him to... to influence you."

"Look, I've got the week without Ron here to devote my time to this. If I don't make any progress by then or if I feel threatened in any way, I swear I will come to you about it. All right?"

He nodded, though it was apparent that he wasn't happy. She could see his jaw clenching and emotion storming in his eyes. Her heart filled with affection as she realized how much he cared for her and wanted to protect her still.

"Harry, you're a great friend, you know that. Thank you." She smiled brightly. "Trust me, okay? Give me this week."

"All right." He smiled back genuinely for the first time that morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you comfortable, Miss Granger?"

"I thought you'd agreed to call me Hermione?"

"Old habits, I suppose," he said.

"I am quite comfortable. I appreciate this room," she said with a small smile. And she did. Lucius had transformed an old unused room, or so he'd said, into a cozy study that only she and he had access to. He'd also created a Portkey that would bring her right into the room, enabling his house's wards to recognize her. In her opinion, that was a definite show of trust, and she hoped that while she made use of his home, she could get to know him better and learn to trust him as well.

Uninvited, he took a seat on the settee next to her. "You don't seem as excited as yesterday. Are you regretting our agreement?"

"No, not at all. I am happy with the arrangement. There are just other things weighing on my mind right now." She tried to give him another reassuring smile, but the gaze of his silver eyes was very perceptive.

"Have lunch with me," he said suddenly, surprising her.

She gazed at her watch. "I didn't realize that much time had passed already."

"Have you read much?" His pointy chin indicated the book in her hands.

Her cheeks heated with a blush. "Er... no. I've only just finished with this long foreword. It's quite complicated, I'm afraid...even for me. Half the time, I had no idea what the man was going on about."

"It seems to be about everything and yet nothing." He nodded and gave an amused chuckle. "I remember it well."

"What did you do then? Reading it over and over only helps so much. It's like the..."

"Like the text changes on you," he interrupted, finishing her sentence for her. "Indeed. I loathed having to approach Narcissa's aunt. Mrs. Black was a dreadful old crow...and not much help to boot. I don't know what she had the book for in the first place, and she never offered to tell me. Regardless, she did manage to pass along a few tips."

"And you'll pass these on to me?"

"After luncheon." He stood and proffered his hand to help her up.

She gently placed the heavy tome beside her and slipped a hand into his, allowing him to pull her up. When her eyes lifted, she was fairly certain that she'd caught him gazing appreciatively at her chest. It made her feel self-conscious, and she had to check the impulse to bring her hand up to cover already concealed breasts, but it also gave her a jolt, making her feel empowered suddenly. The Lucius Malfoy...arrogant, aristocratic, wealthy, handsome...actually seemed to find her appealing.

That one bold glance made her feel womanly on so many levels. While Ron always let her know that he desired her, she never caught him looking at her in such a way. He mostly whinged a little and hinted about getting into her knickers, never pushing the issue and respecting her wishes. What would she have done if he had insisted? Sometimes she had fantasies that he would burst into their bedroom and declare that in no uncertain terms would he be sleeping in a separate bed.

Of course he never would. Realizing she was blushing, she released his hand and kept her head down as he led the way to a formal dining room. Hermione hoped that he hadn't noticed her reddened cheeks or he might think that his gaze had caused it. Nearly snorting, she realized that it actually had been his gaze that had brought about the blush, though not directly.

"I hope you don't mind if we don't use the formal room. Since it is just the two of us, I thought that you might like to dine out on the back patio. We've got the gardens charmed to bloom year round, and it's quite pleasing to the eyes if I do say so myself."

"Anything is fine," she said calmly.

While he spoke with a house-elf, her thoughts drifted to Severus Snape. She'd been honest when she'd told him that the book had her mind boggled, but a great deal of the time, her thoughts were drawn to the body below in the dungeons. The Malfoys had taken such care of him in hopes that he could one day rejoin the world. She'd try her best to help Lucius accomplish that. Professor Snape deserved to live, deserved to live a life free of duties and secrets.

"Now," Lucius began as they sat down, "will you tell me what's really bothering you? I fear we won't get very far if your mind continues to wander."

"I... All right, if you must know, Ronald and I had a bit of a row before he left this morning."

"Oh?"

"Personal reasons." Her voice hinted that she wouldn't elaborate.

"Fair enough."

There was a long awkward pause, and each of them looked at the colorful, fragrant flowers. When the small house-elf brought in their meal, they resumed polite conversation throughout. It wasn't until she'd finished chewing her last bite that Lucius utterly gobsmacked her.

"I've lost my wife," he said, staring blankly out onto the grounds.

"Sorry?" Surely he hadn't said what she thought.

"Narcissa, she wants to separate." His gaze found Hermione's. "I suppose you're shocked."

"I... yes. For two reasons."

"They are?"

"First, your family seems so close. I didn't know there were problems. And, second, well, why are you telling me?"

He shook his head minutely. "I can't rightly say." Then he grazed her with a small apologetic smile. "I suppose you aren't interested. It just seemed that since we're doing this together...trying to help Severus...and you seem to... I don't know." He sighed. "I just needed to talk. You're here." His expression changed to a sly one. "And you can't go off and repeat what I say, so I know it'll be kept between us."

"I don't betray confidences!" she said indignantly. "I wouldn't need an oath for that. Besides, my oath didn't say I couldn't repeat anything you tell me unless it's to someone who would use it against you to bring you to Azkaban."

"Very well."

When he remained quiet, her curiosity got the better of her. "Tell me. Please."

"She feels I've changed too much for her liking, says the Ministry's rules are influencing me at home, and I'm not the man she once loved...especially after the way I acted after I fled Azkaban."

"I think that's horrible she would say this to you." She leaned closer. "Mr. Malfoy, Lucius, I can't believe how much you have changed. You must know it's for the best. You're so personable. I think... I think you really did deserve the chance the Wizengamot has given you and your family." She placed a hand over his when he gave her a disbelieving look. "She'll come around. She'll realize that if it weren't for you, she might not be living so comfortably right now."

He turned his hand over beneath hers and clasped her hand in his. "Thank you, Hermione. One can only hope." With a small squeeze, he released her and stood. "I'll let you get back to work. I'm going to have a walk out into the garden."

"All right."

Her heart broke for the man. Pain was evident in his eyes and facial expression...even in his body, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. She'd privately believed that he loved his wife and son more than his loyalty to the Dark Lord after she'd seen them together, and this only proved it. Hermione wished she could soothe him somehow. Even Lucius Malfoy didn't deserve to hurt so much...not after the changes he'd obvious made, inside and out.

The old Malfoy would have locked her away in his dungeon while this one had given her a room to call her own and treated her as a guest in his home, a friend even. Hermione rose and followed the path he'd taken, intent on keeping him company for a few minutes...wanting to leave him with a smile on his face or at least his haughty smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How's it going at Malfoy's?" Harry asked as she made her way into the kitchen.

"Is that how you're going to greet me every time you see me?" she asked in annoyance, her tiredness flavoring her words.

"How are you?" he asked through a fake, wide smile.

"Exhausted and my eyes hurt."

"Now, how's it going at Malfoy's? Any progress?"

"The answer is the same as yesterday and the day before that as well. All is fine. He's been nothing but courteous and helpful." She sat down with a thud. "I barely saw him today though. I expect he was off on errands or something."

"Don't be angry with me," he said softly, flashing a lopsided grin at her. "I just care about you, and I don't trust Malfoy."

"I'll be honest. He's definitely not what I expected. I think that given time, everyone will see exactly how much he's changed. I barely recognize him. Well, aside from the fact that he looks like a grown-up Draco." She laughed. "The resemblance is hard to miss."

"You got that right. He definitely wasn't for the milkwizard," Harry joked. "Look, is there anything you can tell me about what's going on? Ron will be home in four days. You said you wanted to use this week to make progress. Have you?"

"The book is fascinating, Harry." She could see her eyes sparkling with delight in her reflection from the mirror behind Harry. "So far, the writer is giving background information as to why he wrote the book. And I have to tell you," she said seriously, "I can understand why the Dark Arts might appeal to some."

"You won't turn into one of those people, will you?"

She laughed and slapped at his arm playfully. "Harry, be serious. This is a learning experience for me. I'm just saying that I feel sorry for the bloke. Had a right rough life."

"That's the trouble with you, Hermione. You're too compassionate." Rising, he stretched. "It's a bit late for me. Guess I'll go on up. Remember, I'll be out of town with Ginny for the next two days. The Harpies are off to the Continent." He turned and went towards the door, stopping as he got there. "Oh, you had a letter from Ron. I put it on your dresser."

"Thanks."

Hermione had wondered when Ron would owl her. She was curious as to how his trip was going. With very little guilt, though, she realized that she'd barely noticed that he wasn't home. She shrugged those thoughts away, knowing it was simply because she'd been so busy, her mind emerged in text most of the day.

You're not reading all day, Hermione, a voice reminded her...one that sounded much like her mother when she used a scolding tone. You've also been spending time with Lucius Malfoy.

"We're friends," she said to her reflection. "That's all. There's nothing wrong with it."

She fled to her room to read Ron's owl.

Hermione,

I know you're busy and all, but I just wanted to let you know that everything is working out here. George and I made the right choice to come here to meet with Jeri. Guess what? Jeri isn't a bloke after all. He's a she. Right nice, too, though I can't understand half of what she says sometimes (heavy French accent). She sounds like Fleur but speaks much, much faster.

Anyway, we're working out some details, but I may have to stay longer. I will let you know. If you have time, let me know how it's going there.

Ron

Grinning, she placed the letter in a drawer, imagining his mouth gaped open as the lady said something. He was truly endearing at times. "I hope things work out," she said with a smile. He and George were doing remarkably well already, but this expansion would really bring in the Galleons both hoped for. She idly wondered if the new branches would mean that Ron would be out of town more.

Too exhausted to bathe, she shed her clothes and slipped into bed, deciding she'd write to Ron the next evening when she returned home. And then it came to her... as it had many times before:

The book was there on the desk, but something was different...the pages. The text was no longer written in the dark ink she'd become accustomed to. No. It was now a deep red color, words wet and running down the page. As always the room was cold and dark but for the scant candlelight. The feeling of fear seeped into her very soul, and she could feel that something was coming... something had followed her into the room... something would enter from the darkened corridor at any moment.

While watching the darkened doorway, she ran an index finger along the page of the book, only then realizing that the dampened, red ink was blood...fresh blood. She jumped back, startled. Whose blood was it?

"No..."

To her horror, the words rearranged themselves anew.

The blood of a virgin... many properties it has.

Hermione edged towards the doorway, wanting to leave the room, yet afraid to meet whatever surely lay in wait for her. There was a small sound, so slight she nearly missed it over the sound of her heavy breathing.

"Who's there?"

"Hermione..." whispered a voice.

Terror taking over, she ran across the room and tried to open a window, not caring that the drop to the ground was too far to survive a fall. She had to escape the torment that would surely accost her if she stayed in the room a moment longer.

And then she felt it...a hand on her shoulder, gripping her tightly. Long, pale fingers tipped with shortly cut nails pulled her back away from the window and against something solid. A chest.

"Please... what do you want." The earthy, overpowering scent of absinthe assaulted her, causing her to gasp for air.

A hand moved hair away from her shoulder and lips moved along her throat for a moment before she heard his words. "You," the voice said. "Help me. Give me life."

It had to be a vampire! It wanted to sustain its life by taking her blood... The blood of a virgin...her blood. Was this why she'd preserved herself, subconsciously knowing what her fate would be? Impossible.

"Stay away from me!" she yelled loudly, struggling against her captor.

She woke up in her bed at Grimmauld Place, alone and panting and frightened. A dream. "Thank Merlin."

---

A knock at the door drew her attention away from the page. "Come in."

"Care for any company?" Lucius asked. He leaned casually against the doorjamb. His usual attire had been discarded for a casual pair of gray trousers and a light blue shirt.

Hermione was taken aback momentarily as his eyes seemed so much more vivid than ever before. "You look nice," she said quietly and nodded to the chair. "Have a seat."

"I stood here for a couple of minutes, and you never even noticed me. It seemed that something held your attention, yet your brows were knitted in confusion. What are you reading?"

She placed the book on the table between them and leaned forward. "Look, I'm going to just come out and say it."

"By all means."

"I had another dream last night, but this one... it was different. The book changed, someone was there, I tried to escape...I could feel him, smell him!" She brought her hands up to cover her face for a moment while taking a deep breath. "I was so afraid that I couldn't sleep for a long while. I didn't want to go back into that dream."

"How had the book changed? Tell me about this assailant."

"The ink had turned to blood, and it rearranged itself to tell me something." She shuddered.

"What was that?"

"It said," she blushed a little but held his gaze, "something like a virgin's blood had many properties."

"And your attacker?"

"I'm not sure as to his identity or if he was even human. Actually, I'm sure he was a vampire. There was an earthy smell, his grip was strong, and his voice, it was so seductive and soft." She shrugged. "The blood on the book's page and what he said made me think of vampires."

"What did he say?"

"He wanted my blood, I think. He asked me to give him life. His lips were on my throat, and he knew my name."

"What happened after that?"

"I woke up."

"This is your first real message from the book then," he said with wide eyes and a confidence she wished she possessed.

"But... what does it mean?"

"Severus," he said simply.

Hermione could have slapped herself on the forehead with her palm in that instant. How had she not made that connection? "Give him life," she mused aloud. "I can't believe I didn't realize."

"The virgin blood is very interesting," Lucius said, bringing a hand up to his chin in thought. "I'm sure Borgin would have some we could purchase or know where to get it."

"I thought they outlawed its sale these days because of the... ravishing of younger females!" she said, outraged that people might still be peddling it.

"You don't honestly think it's not still out there on the black market, do you? We can find some if we need it... and we obviously need it."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't think I'd want to search it out. There's no telling where it's come from. Some poor girl... No."

Lucius shook his head in annoyance. "If the book says we use it, we will do so. What? Why are you looking at me that way?"

"If you're so keen on doing something illegal, then you'll at least do it the right way! You can pay a woman...of age...who is willing, but I just can't condone any other course of action."

"Miss High and Mighty!" he said angrily. "Well, it's a pity you didn't always have these morals, else we could just use your virginal blood."

Her cheeks flushed brightly. "How dare you say something so uncouth!"

"Oh, come now, it's not like..." His eyes widened. "Are you...have you?"

"That's none of your business!" She stood. "I need the lav."

She stormed away and locked herself into the room across the hall, quickly splashing cool water on her face. Had the book been seeking her blood or any virgin's blood? She wouldn't tell him any more until she found out. What she'd done sexually was none of his business...even in this. And then her last humiliating night with Ron came back to slap her in the face. She'd felt as though something wouldn't allow her to make love to him. She'd wanted to, and then suddenly, she couldn't fathom carrying on.

"I'm in over my head," she whispered to herself. There was something sinister at work here, some driving force that seemed to be crashing in on her. Harry had been right to warn her about Dark Arts. Oh how she wished she could confide in him!

"Hermione?" Lucius called.

"I'll be right out."

"I apologize for my unkind words. My emotions got the better of me. I didn't intend to... hurt your feelings or to insinuate anything."

She opened the door. "Thank you. I guess I overreacted." Following him back into the room, she said, "This book, it's scaring me now, and there's something else that I can't put my finger on."

He looked at his timepiece. "I would that I could talk longer, but I... uh... well, I've something to do."

"It's fine. I... Would you mind if I stayed here a little later than usual tonight?"

His elegant eyebrows rose in question. "Have something in mind for your research?"

"Harry's not home, and Grimmauld Place is so... lonely," she finished lamely. "I hope to read myself into exhaustion so that I'll fall asleep straight away when I get there."

"Are you frightened to be alone? Is it the dream?"

"It's childish of me, isn't it? A grown woman and afraid to sleep alone."

His eyes moved down her body slowly and back up again. "Grown woman indeed." Lucius' gaze lightened and his lips curved upwards in a flirtatious smile. "If we weren't... attached to others, I would offer to keep you company."

Surely he was joking, so she laughed to keep from answering him, willing her awkward feeling away.

"Did I make you uncomfortable just then?"

"Maybe."

He smirked. "That's not a no then."

"No."

"Would you like to stay the night with me, Hermione?"

"Sorry?"

"Here. In my home," he said softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I can have Bozzy prepare a room for you. There's no need for you to go home to that dreadful house alone."

"Oh, no, I couldn't... Well, all right."

"Lovely. I'll see to that now. He'll find you when he's done."

"Thank you. I really appreciate this."

"It's nothing." And with that, he was gone.

Her pulse didn't slow down until a few minutes after he'd gone. He'd been flirting with her. She was sure of it now. He'd been testing her, wanting to see her reaction to his question. The bad thing was that she knew deep down that she shouldn't have accepted his offer. Ron wouldn't approve at all...neither would Harry. But wasn't she a grown woman? She could make her own decisions, and the truth was that she'd rather sleep at Malfoy Manor where she wouldn't be alone. She'd been too frightened after her dream the night before, and she was afraid it would happen again. What if she got too caught up in it? What if she couldn't wake up? Kreacher didn't even address her half the time, though she tried everything to get on his good side, having eyes only for Harry. What if he wouldn't help her?

Unlikely, she knew, but not completely implausible. Sometimes Kreacher had an attitude that only Harry could dissolve. Thinking of Ron, she realized that she'd not responded to his owl. "He'll understand that I'm busy," she reasoned. And as if to make that the truth, she set out to pick up the tome and unlock any of its secrets, hoping for a clue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much later, Hermione slipped into a large, warm bed, wearing a lovely nightgown the elf had presented to her. It felt cool and silky against her skin...and very comfortable. He'd promised that his mistress had never worn it and had decided she didn't care for it after she'd brought it home. Why had her own bed never felt so good to her?

Her thoughts travelled to Lucius, and she wondered how his plans had turned out. She hadn't seen him at all for the rest of the evening, and she'd ventured out of her room a couple of times...once to his study and once into the dungeons. She'd planned on going to see Snape again...was drawn to see him actually...but once down there, she'd changed her mind and hurried back to safety. She'd felt utterly ridiculous for fleeing when she'd returned, of course, but the book had chose that moment to send her a message, so thoughts of going back to him evaporated.

She couldn't wait until she saw Lucius in the morning to share it with him. After all, it had everything to do with him. He would indeed be involved in the next step...one way or another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You seem a bit too eager this morning," Lucius said grumpily. "What has you bouncing off the walls?"

"I had a message from the book!" she said, taking the seat across from him and accepting a cup of coffee.

"Lovely," he said sarcastically as he took a sip from his own cup. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, fine," she said dismissively. "But didn't you hear what I said?"

"Explain further if you must."

"You're so sour! Heavy night last night?"

"Bozzy!"

"Yes, sir."

"Find some headache potion for me, will you?"

"Bozzy will, sir."

After the elf popped away, Hermione quietly asked, "Would you like to know what it said?"

"Forgive me. I fear I am not myself this morning."

"It's all right. Everyone wakes up on the wrong side of the bed now and then." She beamed brightly and put her cup on its saucer. "The book's text changed, and it said, 'Ask him for the book his grandfather gave him...he'll know the one.'"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said blandly. "Did it specifically say me?"

"Well, no, but who else?"

Bozzy popped in with a phial, which Lucius took and drained straightaway. Upon doing so, he stood, and his entire demeanor changed drastically. "Come! I have an idea."

Hermione followed him to the family library where he walked to the far left and stopped to gaze at a small painting. There was a worm inching into a hole on an apple that set on top of a thin, green book.

"Uh... What are we doing?"

"This is the book he left me. It's the only one I can think of anyway."

"Great. Just great."

"Now calm down, girl." He pressed his wand against it. "Reveal your secrets." Nothing happened. "Damn."

"I read something about this," Hermione said suddenly, trying to remember what she'd read.

"I've always wondered why he would specifically call me over to his side and tell me under no uncertain terms was anyone else to have this painting. I'd pretended to appreciate it, of course, but I would have much preferred something more substantial. Cissy thought it was sweet of him to be so sentime..." His words trailed away, and his expression became cloudy.

"All right?"

"Ah, it's best not to dwell on certain things."

"If you'd like to talk."

"No, let's concentrate on this. My botched attempt at regaining my wife last night has no room for discussion between us today."

So that's why he'd been so foul tempered earlier. He'd obviously tried to talk to Narcissa and had been rebuffed.

"I will say, though, that it's times like these that have me missing Severus more than ever. He was a good friend, you know."

Determination filling her, Hermione said, "Then let's figure this painting out." And just as she said it, something came to her. She approached the painting, brought her finger up to the apple and tickled it. The worm wiggled out of another hole, causing the apple to roll off of the book. "Look!" She was able to tickle the book and force it to open.

"Extraordinary. How did you know to do that? I've never once thought of it in all these years." His gaze was full of amazement, and a new respect for her shone in his silvery eyes.

"Actually, it's what we do at Hogwarts to get into the kitchens. We tickle the fruit. I just thought I'd give it a try." She blushed slightly. "I'd hoped that it would swing open and reveal a real book, but I guess this will have to do."

"Indeed."

"Would you like me to read this out loud?" she asked. "Or do you prefer to just read silently along with me?"

"By all means, read to me," he said, brushing against her as he strode over to a cushiony chair. Once he sat down, he smiled and said, "You look nice in those robes."

"Your elf... he thought it would be all right."

"Oh, is that something of Narcissa's? I didn't realize." He held up a hand. "Don't worry about it. She's got a roomful of things that she's bought and never worn. Use anything you'd like. Bozzy will help you."

"Thank you, Lucius."

"It's nothing, my dear." He sat back in his chair and extended his legs, bringing his hands up behind his head. "Entertain me."

"Right." She licked her lips and turned to the portrait and began reading. "It's a book with a mixture of spells and potions directions...all with the intent of... of bringing back the dead."

Lucius' hands dropped. "The hell you say."

She nodded vigorously. "Merlin, I think we're on to something here!"

"The old man must have thought I could use this to bring him back, poor sod. I never did pay much attention to this wretched thing. He'd have done better just giving me a letter with instructions!"

"This won't do!" Hermione said suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"Accio clean parchment!" A few moments later saw a stack of Narcissa's fine ivory stationary zooming to Hermione's outstretched hand. She pointed her wand from the book in the portrait to the parchment and chanted another spell.

"Brilliant," Lucius said in approval.

"Nothing like a little replication spell. I certainly don't feel like standing up here and reading all day."

"I don't blame you. I wondered how long you'd last."

She grinned and sat next to him, summoning the parchments. "Here we are. Page one." She gasped and nearly dropped them.

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed, grabbing for his wand.

Instead of answering, she showed him the page. He, too, gasped, for it was a black and white picture of a man lying on a comfortable bed...a man with a hooked nose and black, shoulder length hair.

"It's Severus."

She nodded and looked at the next parchment. "I... I think this is meant for you." She handed it to him.

He read aloud. "Lucius, I know you are wondering why I gave you a portrait of a bloody book with an apple. It wasn't because I was overly fond of reading, mind, but there was a reason...and a right good one. Remember the stories that I told you about Cassandra, my Seer friend from the earlier years? She had a vision about you...you and a young brunette who would need help in returning someone important from death. The picture you've just seen is the body of the man from her vision. Be careful, clever boy, for you are about to venture into a very dark place. Be sure that you truly want to go there before you read anymore."

"This is a bit much," Hermione said, gobsmacked. "Who's this woman?"

"A family friend."

"Long dead, I suppose."

He nodded and looked away. "If you will excuse me..."

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"I need to think about things I'm afraid. That man never used words lightly. There is something in store for us that I don't think we've even imagined yet."

She watched his back as he retreated, admiring the sway of his long, platinum locks. Hermione looked again at the picture the lady had drawn many years before. There was no mistaking that it was Severus Snape. Feeling bold, she rose and decided to pay his body a visit. Perhaps something would come to her while she was there. Either way, sitting with him for a while might help her to reach a decision on what to do next. What would she be willing to do to bring him back? Could they even do it? Was the price really worth it? Better yet... what was the price?

---

A/N: And deeper she goes.