Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lucius knocked on the brand-new laboratory door. Although simmering with annoyance about the infernally air-tight revisions of the Ministry's confidentiality contract, he wasn't foolish enough to barge in when Severus could be working with hazardous ingredients.

'Make that explosive,' Lucius observed when a muffled boom was followed by a string of expletives mingled with coughs.

The door burst open even as he raised his fist to rap on it again. Acrid smoke wafted out, making him choke. But the fumes quickly disappeared as the air conditioning wards came into effect.

"What?" Severus barked. His face was blackened with soot, his eyebrows singed, and some of his hair standing on end. Scratches covered his hands. To Lucius's experienced eye some looked like peck marks. None of his birds pecked him with anything but affection, of course, but Severus was a different matter.

'Serves him right for plucking my Jobberknoll!' Lucius looked back up at Severus's face, unable to keep a smirk from quirking his lips. "If you'd only asked me, I would have extracted the feathers you needed."

The growl that escaped Severus was more fitting for the mascot of Gryffindor House than to a Slytherin alumnus. "I took one measly feather."

"Why didn't you restrain it first? It would have been kinder."

"I attempted to use my hand, you pillock. Potion ingredients can be spoilt if magic is used on them. Any idiot knows that!" Severus spat.

'Ugh.' Lucius pulled out his handkerchief and wiped a spot of spittle from his cheek. "Kindly refrain from taking your temper out on me."

Severus dragged a hand down his face, smearing the soot. "Sorry. I know it's not your fault," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Perhaps a 'do not disturb' sign might be an idea. My reaction would not have been any different had Hermione interrupted me."

He peered past Lucius. "Come to that, where is she?"

"She's still at the Ministry. And just as well, considering how short your fuse is today. I'd rather not have newlyweds fighting in my – I mean our – house."

"Surely she's not trying to read through their archives in a single day?" Severus raised the remains of his eyebrows. "Although I wouldn't put it past her."

"Indeed not. By the way, why didn't you tell me that the Ministry had revised their confidentiality contract?" Lucius cringed internally. If not for the fact that he was a Malfoy, the tone that crept into his voice would have been a whine.

"You are losing your touch," Severus sneered. "Isn't it obvious? The way the Ministry operates was almost redrawn from scratch after the unlamented fall of the Dark Lord. It was virtually the only way to ferret out the corruption."

"But bloodsucking quills on top of a contract now worded tighter than the security spells at Gringotts? That's pure paranoia."

"What can I say? They know you, Lucius."

Lucius huffed at the undertone of sardonic amusement in Severus's voice. Right. No one laughed at a Malfoy. "Your experiments are going well?"

"Clearly," Severus snapped, gesturing at his sooty self. "Smashing. Two melted cauldrons and three explosions. At least the safety wards on my new laboratory are being rigorously tested." His eyes lit up with what could only be a nasty idea for Lucius.

"As you're here, you can help clean up the mess."

'Definitely a nasty idea,' Lucius thought as he quickly stepped back. Not fast enough, though, as Severus caught hold of his sleeve and yanked him into the lab. "But the house-elves!" Lucius spluttered.

"Are banned. I'll not risk them cleaning up the wrong things." Severus's grin could only be described as evil. "Furthermore, need I repeat again that magic can't be used? The residue might be dangerous, after all."

"You owe me," Lucius spat as he stopped trying to escape Severus's clutches.

"Consider it a wedding present."

"But the lab..."

"Was one of Hermione's prenuptial conditions."

Lucius clenched his fists, resisting the urge to forcefully wipe that smug look from Severus's face. A Malfoy outmanoeuvred? Unthinkable!

"Very well." He relaxed his hands, forcing any outward signs of anger to fade from his features and posture. Internally, he still seethed. Old habits died hard, and he was beginning to tire of being reasonable and good all the time. Where was the fun in that? True, he had no wish of reverting to his old ways completely. Falling out of the Dark Lord's favour and the resultant danger to his family had changed him.

But his pride still suffered. Both due to his fall from grace, and because of bowing to the wishes of those he had never considered his equals. It was high time to assert himself, if only in his own home.

Lucius was careful to avoid eye contact with Severus as he schemed. Although a passable Occlumens himself, he had no doubt that a man whose skills in the mental arts were powerful enough to fool the Dark Lord would have no trouble slipping into his mind. Though Severus seemed to be more and more concerned with asking permission first. Lucius shuddered. What was becoming of his slippery friend? Any Slytherin worth his weight in gold was of the persuasion that it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

* * *

Severus thoroughly enjoyed witnessing how Lucius had to dirty his hands cleaning cauldrons. Even though Lucius wore the finest Swedish Short-Snout dragon-skin gloves, his lilywhite hands would gain some calluses besides those from wand handling.

Tempting as it was to leave Lucius to his scrubbing and go upstairs to enjoy the shower recently enchanted into his bathroom, Severus wasn't about to leave a sulky Lucius alone with valuable ingredients. It would be just like Lucius to ensure that the next potions experiment ended with a bang.

As a result, Severus was still in the shower when Hermione came back from the Ministry. The first thing he knew about her return was when she joined him, embracing him from behind, her breasts pressed against his back. A pleasant surprise, until she stopped just as she'd been about to pull him down for a kiss.

Whatever she said was lost in the magical downpour. His lip-reading ability hindered, he twisted the Muggle-style lever, reducing the water flow from the cloud above to drizzle.

"What happened to your eyebrows?"

'Knew I should have used that Hair-Grow Tonic first...' Of course, even if he had, Hermione would have found out about his failure. No doubt Lucius would relish giving her every detail about his less than dignified appearance post-explosions. But to admit that even he made mistakes with potions? Inconceivable.

"Let's just say that today's experiments did not go well."

"Maybe I could help tomorrow?" Hermione definitely had moved on from her know-it-all days, when she simply would have proclaimed that she would help whether it was wanted or not.

"A second opinion would be useful," he allowed. "And your potions skills are more than adequate. But will you have time with your research and campaigning?"

"I can make time. Besides, it wouldn't do to neglect you. Spending time with you will prevent that, even in the lab."

"Indeed, it wouldn't do to neglect me," Severus purred and pulled her closer.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want a shower in your bathroom, Lucius?" Severus asked. "I can't recommend them highly enough."

'Oops.' On second thoughts, perhaps it would have been wiser to wait until they had finished dinner to spar with Lucius. Hermione choked on her soup, her cheeks almost steaming with more than just embarrassment.

Patting her apologetically on the back, he passed her his handkerchief to dab at her streaming eyes.

"With the right company, perhaps." Lucius ostensibly kept his eyes on his bowl, but Severus was uncomfortably aware of how he surreptitiously glanced at Hermione as he spoke. But she was too busy glaring at her shower partner to notice.

Veiled attempts to rub his marital bliss in Lucius's face were doubtless unfair if not outright cruel, but it was simply payback. For decades Lucius had done much the same thing, and far more overtly. Theirs had never been the most stable of friendships.

Most of all, Lucius had known what he was getting into. If he had wanted no reminders of the real marriage under his roof, he would have made it a condition.

If Hermione continued to glower at him like that, Severus decided that he would have to enlighten her of another aspect of the real Lucius Malfoy. Although insufferably self-righteous Gryffindor that she was, she'd probably just tell him to be the bigger man; that he was better than that.

Hermione had stopped glowering, her eyes slightly unfocused as something occurred to her.

She turned to Lucius. "That reminds me, we never did discuss what should be done about your..." she trailed off and cleared her throat, "your needs. For, you know, company."

Severus doubted that Hermione could blush a deeper red.

She shifted uncomfortably. "It might be too soon for you to consider moving on, but this is something that should have been covered in those prenuptial agreements."

Grieving though he was, Lucius didn't take offence. Severus knew perfectly well why that was: Lucius had loved Narcissa, but he'd only been emotionally faithful. The cheating bastard had flaunted more than just his wife in front of Severus.

Much to Severus's discomfort, Lucius took his time responding to Hermione. Severus didn't need Legilimency to see that Lucius was tempted to break his word and demand his conjugal rights.

Pity that Lucius's poker face masked that from a recent acquaintance such as Hermione, whereas Severus could clearly recognise the nasty gleam and calculating look in those grey eyes. Would Hermione believe him if he mentioned it to her? Or would she just think that he was paranoid?

Possibly, as she did not react at all when Lucius glanced back and forth between them, the slightest smirk tugging at his lips. Too slight for Hermione to notice.

Severus tensed, his hand touching his wand inside his pocket. Friend or not, if Lucius lived up to his surname, he would regret being conceived, let alone born.

Lucius finally spoke up. "It's a moot point anyway, isn't it? There aren't enough women to go around for wives, never mind for mistresses. I may be a changed man, but I'm not about to take a Muggle into my bed. What's more, it would be social suicide to be caught 'cheating' on you."

Severus didn't release his wand. "So you'll be happy with your hand for the rest of your life?"

"Refreshingly blunt as always," Lucius sneered. "Have a little faith in the wife. She's intent on scrapping this law, isn't she? And on solving the population problem. When has Harry Potter's 'brain' failed?"

"It has been known to happen. I meant to ask while you were in Kingsley's office, but you left before I had a chance..." Hermione smiled winningly. "I could use some assistance."

"Your wedding present from me, I suppose," Lucius muttered, clapping his hands for the next course to appear. "Very well."

Satisfying as the thought of Lucius actually doing some work for once was, the ease with which Lucius had acquiesced to Hermione's request troubled Severus. Particularly coupled with the way those cold eyes flickered over Hermione's body, flushed as she was from their shower and her embarrassment...

His tight grip on his wand made the ebony creak warningly. Severus relaxed his grip, narrowing his eyes at Lucius, who quirked a cocky eyebrow right back at him.

'I know you're up to no good!'

'Of course,' said the smug smile creeping across Lucius's pointy face. 'And what are you going to do about it?'

Severus might have inadvertently snapped his own wand if an owl hadn't tapped on the window at that moment.

* * *

"Looks like you were right," Lucius commented, his eyes fixed on the Evening Prophet in front of them with much the same distaste he had reserved for Muggle-borns until recently.

'WIZENGAMOT BLUNDER: BROODMARES' the headline proclaimed.

Severus pushed his plate away. No matter how sumptuous the food was, the contents of that front page were enough to put even a ravenous Weasley off his dinner.

"Why didn't he tell me?" Hermione seethed, the crockery vibrating, a sure sign that her hold on her temper was slipping. Severus put his hand on top of hers, thankful when she relaxed a bit under his touch.

"He being Shacklebolt?" Lucius asked. Before she could answer, a muffled voice could be heard in the hallway. "What a coincidence," he muttered. He made his way to the door and yanked it open.

"While an honour to see you, Minister, twice in one day is far too much. Do you want to come out of the fireplace this time?"

Severus didn't hear the answer to that question, but it proved unnecessary, when Kingsley walked into the dining room.

"Hermione, Severus. I hate to interrupt your meal, but I thought you'd appreciate a heads up..." Kingsley trailed off, his eyes drawn to the bright red headline on the Prophet. "No fucking way. I only just heard about it, and I was there! There were no press permitted."

"You have a leak," Lucius drawled, gleeful. If he hadn't witnessed Lucius's honest surprise a moment before, Severus would have suspected that Lucius had something to do with the leak.

"Obviously," Kingsley spat. "Rest assured, I know how to handle one."

He picked up the Prophet, white-knuckled fingers crinkling the paper as they unconsciously threatened to tear it to pieces. After flicking through it, he tossed it back onto the table.

"While I can't give you a warning thanks to this," Kingsley poked the garish newspaper, "I can give you more details, thanks to that contract you've all signed."

"Is this addendum to the law effective immediately?" Hermione asked, too impatient to wait for Kingsley. It would be a while before she outgrew such traits, if she ever did.

"Not exactly. You see, there is what passes for a silver lining in that this isn't enforced for a month."

Severus frowned. That delay wasn't like the Wizengamot at all. The council could take forever to come to decisions, but when they did, it usually became legally binding instantly. "What's the catch?"

"The delay is to allow for the Healers at St Mungo's to check the fertility of all those of childbearing age."

Beside Severus, Hermione was attempting to keep control of her magic, her eyes closed and breathing deeply. Judging by the way the Prophet was smoking, she was failing. As gratifying as it would be to watch, the rest of the table would also go up in flames. They would never hear the end of it from Lucius if his antique table got singed, magical repairs or not.

As he didn't know which pocket Hermione's wand was in – or even if she had it on her – he thrust his wand into her hand. Sparks flew from the tip, safely venting the outburst of magic accompanying her rage.

Calmer after venting, Hermione was coherent enough to speak. "The only thing the Prophet mentioned was no contraception until two girls are born. I take it there are other stipulations?"

Kingsley grimaced, wrinkling his normally smooth head. "What haven't they stipulated, you mean?"

Severus had visions of the addendum about procreation longer than the law itself, dictating on every aspect of sex and pregnancy. He shuddered, sickened.

Hermione groaned. "You know, I'm really starting to hate being right."

AN: Many thanks to septentrion and JunoMagic for betaing, and to Kribu for alpha reading.

This will be on hiatus while I work on my contribution to the SSHG Gift Exchange. I hope to post at least one more chapter by the time of the mid November deadline. I'm not abandoning this story!