How the Mighty have Fallen

A/N: Thank you all for the support laden reviews! Special thanks to: Citten, meankitty69, Voracious Reader, margaritama, and cherripepsiisgod! & http://www.fashion-era.com/1970s/1971_1972_fashion_designs.htm. Sorry to all those who I never replied back too… silly me, I assumed originally that I could reply directly. When I couldn’t I just didn’t reply to people; but then I couldn’t help myself; though those reviews are just as valuable to me and I really love them!!!


Citten: You’ll have to wait and see what changes!

Voracious Reader: Maybe go-go boots at some time… probably not on the neon mini.

Margaritama: She will bump into them… looking very forward to writing that and future chapters to come! The first one will occur the chapter after next or at latest, the chapter following that.

Cherripepsiisgod: Thank you for your review… hope this chapter will suffice. It’s probably a bit different than you imagined but as I have never been to England nor was I born near the ‘70’s writing about it directly posed too big of a challenge.


October 2, 1971: Saturday afternoon


Walking down Charing Cross Road Hermione felt discombobulated. It was odd that such a familiar place felt so foreign. As exciting a prospect as discovering and exploring a new world could be this foray into muggle society did nothing but make her feel homesick. ‘It’s because I can’t go back’ her mind supplied sullenly. That was a sobering thought. If she hadn’t liked the Wizarding World, at eleven, she could have turned around and went back home. If she didn’t like 1971 London then the slightly more familiar Hogwarts circa 1970 would have to suffice.

‘I suppose this is what it feels like for them’ she thought wearingly; thinking of her magical brethren’s first jaunt to the muggle world. Reasoning that moping wouldn’t accomplish anything, save maybe becoming trampled by some irate muggle in a hurry, Hermione hastened to move. She only hoped she was headed in the right direction.

Most of the clothing she encountered wouldn’t have been appropriate for Hogwarts; regardless of the era. The mini dress screamed sex… but it also screamed detention. ‘Still it couldn’t hurt to try on, right?’ her mind pleaded. It did hurt to try on. She looked fabulous and she now wanted to buy the infernal dress. ‘It’s just one dress’ she reasoned as she purchased it. Vowing to buy clothing she could actually wear around the school Hermione purchased two shift dresses. Both sleeveless and hitting just below the knee, the red shift dress had a zip down the front whereas the green dress featured a yoke pattern starting just above the breast.

After trying on three pairs of pants, hating all of them, Hermione decide she would have to stick to dresses and skirts. ‘That shouldn’t be a problem, as I do have fan-tas-tic legs’ she thought with a smile, at least according to that Gryffindor. Settling on a toffee colored pinafore dress, two pencil skirts, one black the other charcoal, and a blue flared skirt Hermione went in search of blouses and shoes. With a few bloused sleeved shirts of varies prints and colors purchased, Hermione begrudgingly picked out a pair of low block heels, as red as her dress, that she could change, their color, by way of a charm.

Hermione then sought out nightwear and undergarments, as she didn’t want to wear the same scourgified pair daily, completing her list with the purchases of hair pins and toiletries.
As Hermione lugged three bags of clothing into the ladies toilet, in order to minimize her purchases away from prying muggle eyes, she remembered the benefits of frequenting Wizarding establishments.


Quickly glancing around to ensure she was alone, Hermione apparated as close to Hogwarts as she felt comfortable doing; ending up a little more than halfway back to Hogwarts on the well worn Hogsmeade path. Vocalizing a sigh of annoyance to no one in particular she realized she would miss lunch; as the walk back would ensure that if she hadn’t already.

Not knowing if she was running behind or not, as they hadn’t set a formal time, for her tutoring appointment Hermione quickly descended the stairs that led to the Slytherin dormitories when she encountered the not so familiar labyrinthine; stopping her dead in her tracks, a look of confusion upon her face. Biting her lip as she debated which corridor to take, a warning voice startled her out of her reverie.


“It isn’t a good idea to look like that down in the dungeons,” the voice chided, teasingly.


Whirling about, wand drawn, Hermione located the source of the voice lounging against the far wall. ‘It’s only Severus’ her mind piped up calmly, though her heart was still racing, when she noticed the boy.


“Sorry,” she murmured as she lowered her wand, “you startled me,” she gave as explanation. Though the panic that had gripped her was unnaturally high for just being startled; the war was still too fresh in her mind it seemed.


“Sorry,” Severus mumbled in apology. “You really have no idea where the dorms are, do you?” he asked in mild amusement after his embarrassment had waned.


“No. No, I really don’t,” she replied unabashedly. Stooping a bit to speak to Severus more levelly, as he was still seated, she said, “would you mind taking me? Or pointing me in the right direction, if you’re busy,” she finished when she noticed the book lying open next to him.


“Sure,” he replied quickly.

Before he had a chance to stand up Hermione hurriedly said, with a hint of awkwardness, “Uh. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Lucius.”


“Tell me what?” Lucius questioned, interest clearly peaked, as he walked up behind her.


Surprised once again Hermione’s posture became rigid. “Nothing,” she replied dismissively, in a voice that was a shade too high, not turning around; a blush of embarrassment staining her cheeks. Giving Severus a pointed warning look that meant ‘not one word’ she turned around and said, with a small smile, “I’m sorry if I’m late…”


“It isn’t a problem,” he answered silkily. “We could use a ground floor classroom, I’ve the scroll,” Lucius said raising the scroll as he spoke as if to eliminate the possibility of her skiving.


“Alright… bye,” Hermione whispered, directed over her shoulder, disappointed.


Walking into classroom eight she said conversationally, “It’s a bit warm, isn’t it?”


He made a noncommittal noise of agreement as she placed her cloak over the back of a chair. Feeling slightly too warm himself, Lucius began to roll his shirt sleeves up past his elbows. Recognizing a good idea Hermione mimicked his motions, undoing a couple of buttons at her neck for good measure; exposing her décolleté.


Unbeknownst to Hermione, as she was admiring the pale, unblemished skin of his left forearm, Lucius’ eyes were transfixed on her newly unveiled skin.


Remembering herself, Hermione looked up imploringly. Regaining his composure, when he felt her eyes upon him, Lucius instructed, “We’ll begin with charms; as they’re quite straight forward.”


Sitting on a desk, Hermione began what would soon become a tirade, “firstly, I’ve had six years of magical education and I am quite bright so I would appreciate it if you didn’t address me as a first year. Secondly, I’m a bit tired… so can we begin in five minutes or so?”


“I wasn’t patronizing you or your abilities; but, I apologize that it came across that way,” he began stiffly. “And, forgive me, but a trip to Hogsmeade shouldn’t be so draining. Why are you so tired?” he asked with disquiet.


“I went to London,” she answered evasively.


“Diagon Alley?” he questioned further.


“Well, yes,” she replied a bit too hesitantly.


“And?” Lucius cajoled.


“Muggle London,” Hermione responded breezily so as to quell further inquiry.


“By yourself?” he asked heatedly, shocked.


“Of course by myself,” she retorted; crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at the mere presumption that she needed an escort.


“But, muggles they’re dangerous. Like animals,” Lucius said in obvious disgust.


“They’re nothing like animals,” Hermione countered annoyed; attempting to remain impassive. “Have you even met a muggle?” she questioned pointedly.


Blatantly refusing to answer her question, he continued to look her over as if trying to discover what harm had been done to her person.


“Really, I’m perfectly fine Lucius,” she consoled calmly.


“Stand up and turn around; so I can check properly,” he commanded out of concern, not anger.


‘This is ridiculous’ she thought as she obeyed; so as not to prolong this discussion further.


Lucius looked thoughtful for a moment before cocking his head to the side, “fine, indeed,” he flattered, not attempting to hide his desire for her.


‘That cheeky, charming bastard’ Hermione thought, but she muttered exasperated, “You’re unbelievable,” while fighting a blush.