Last Exit to Eden

Title: Last Exit to Eden
Author: lucretziathevagabond
Rating: NC-17 for the story as a whole; NC-17 for this chapter
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They belong to JKR, et al. I am trying to improve my writing skills; no copyright infringement intended.

Chapter 10: Samhain
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Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Granger, get up! Breakfast is nearly ready, but your elf won’t feed me until you come down!”

The whiny voice echoed through the room through the closed door. Hermione covered her face with the pillow trying to muffle the noise.

The banging continued, as well as shouted accusations that Hermione intended for him to starve. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics. and threw a pillow at the door as she heard it creak open. A muffled “Damn it, Granger!” could be heard as the door closed again.

“He’s going to need to stop calling you that”, Lucius mumbled as he yawned and sat on the side of the bed.

“Considering the names your son and I have called each other over the years, Granger is just fine. In fact, it’s more than I ever hoped for.”

“It’s disrespectful.”

“Lucius, it’s really no big deal.”

The muttering continued as she climbed out of bed and hurried into the shower. Her hair had reached Medusa-like proportions, and she quickly put her head under the spray. She could hear the banging start again, then the door was opened and a yelp echoed in the room. Then, there was blissful silence.

“He used to drive Cissa and I to distraction by doing that every morning. Finally, we had an elf be ready with some sort of activity when he awoke so we could sleep in until at least seven. I assumed he had outgrown that particular habit.”

She looked at the clock as he went to shower.

“It’s only 0530? Damn it, Draco!”

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It was nearly six thirty when they finally sat down to table. Hermione and Pansy had packed overnight bags with their gowns for the gala. Ruby had added her child’s backpack to the pile of luggage by the door, and was currently wearing a pumpkin costume as she served breakfast; her green leafy hat tipped at a jaunty angle. Lucius nearly choked when he saw the elf at the bottom of the stairs.

“Please tell me she’s not wearing that tonight.” He said in a low voice, and Hermione shook her head.

“We’ve already gotten her dress; it has the same shades of black and grey as mine. It even has a little sweater with it.”

Lucius rolled his eyes at the women’s indulgence of the elf and looked down at his plate. His pumpkin pancakes were cut into the shape of pumpkins and leaves. They were topped with apple and cranberry compote, and were actually quite good.

Pansy was picking at her pancakes and trying to keep her eyes open as she huddled over her coffee cup. Only Draco seemed to be brimming with energy as he sorted through pages of lists. He waved a fountain pen he had found somewhere; drops of ink flew and dotted the parchment in front of him.

“So for today, we have the meeting at the ministry at 1030. I’ve already flooed to the manor, and everything seems to be in order. I reminded Tripsy the head elf that Ruby will be arriving with the luggage. He knows that she is Granger’s personal elf and should not be asked to clean or cook.”

“I is not wearing a tea towel, and I is looking after the two misses only.”

“I told them that, Ruby. They also know you will be attending to Pansy and Hermione during the gala.” Draco grinned as he recalled the squeaks of horror from the other elves at the thought of such an independent elf being given such an important job as looking after the future Mrs. Malfoy.

“How many elves do you have?” Hermione asked.

“Two, maybe three dozen” Lucius answered as he cut a wedge of apple.

“What!?” Hermione shrieked.

“You should really have more elves for a house this size, Granger. The only reason you don’t is because you clean several rooms and do laundry yourself. Ideally, you should have six or seven.”

“Okay. Moving on.” Pansy interrupted as she watched Hermione flush in anger.

“Okay, so Granger, Pansy and I are going to the muggle social workers to talk to them about surviving children. We have an appointment for 0800 with the same woman who Juno reported Walcott to years ago. She is getting ready to retire, but she still works there as a supervisor.

“Ruby can floo over when she’s ready.” She looked around and realized the elf was probably upstairs making beds and cleaning. Hermione called her name and she popped into view.

“Yes, Miss?”

“Ruby. Will you be ready to close up the house and ward it so you can take the bags to Malfoy Manor?”

“I is ready now, miss.”

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The social worker’s office was in a nondescript block like structure and protected by a bored looking security guard. He waved them through without checking credentials, obviously more interested in the sports page than in the three young people making their way down the hall.

“Dear Merlin, this is revolting. How do muggles live like this?” Draco asked as he walked down the fluorescent lit corridor. Hermione had to admit; this building was particularly dull. It was difficult to imagine that this sterile environment housed a department meant to protect children. Finally, they reached the office they were looking for. Pushing the door open, they walked into the private entry.

The room was the same shade of beige as the corridors. Public service posters advertised free testing for HIV and advised readers to immunize their children. A particularly graphic poster had an image of a bruised and battered woman holding the side of her face as she looked toward the camera. A hanging pocket held brochures for domestic violence counseling and crisis information. Below the posters were two rows of chairs facing a bullet proof glass window. In the corner were a small collection of books and toys that had seen better days. A disheveled woman entered the room, and approached the window, pushing Hermione out of the way.

“Tell that Turner woman I want to see her. The police came and took my children last night, and won’t tell me where they are. I have a right to my children!”

“Mrs. Lewis, what are you doing in my waiting room?”

An elderly woman dressed in no nonsense tan khakis and a light pink sweater walked in the room. Despite the old lady chains on her glasses and the pastels, this woman was formidable. She held herself completely straight and gave off the air of a woman who didn’t back down to anyone; Hermione was immediately reminded of the McGonagall sisters. As the irate Mrs. Lewis shouted curse words and waved her hands in the air, the older woman remained calm. When the angry mother had stopped for breath, Mrs. Turner started to speak.

“Mrs. Lewis, we came to get the children after you failed your third drug test. The courts won’t even consider returning them until after you complete the 28 day program and have counseling. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and you have the right to talk to your probation officer. You do not have the right to barge into my office, shouting about injustice while you habitually leave your small children home alone.”

“You old bag, who do you think you are?”

“The woman who has the judge and your probation officer on speed dial. Either make an appointment or leave, but you will not take up any more of my time.” The older woman turned toward the trio and completely ignored the irate Mrs. Lewis. For a moment the younger woman looked as though she would protest, but apparently thought better of it. She left cursing, with threats to sue, slamming the door as she left.

The older woman released a breath and looked at them, her face softening slightly.

“I apologize for that. Most of the people who use our services are decent parents and are just in the midst of a rough patch. Mrs. Lewis, unfortunately, seems to live in a rough patch and has no apparent desire to climb out of it..”

After introductions were made, the magical trio were led into a small conference room. Hand-drawn portraits were framed and proudly displayed on the walls. After they were seated, Mrs. Turner got directly to the point.

“So, Juno dropped by a few days ago to set up your appointment. I take it you want to know everything on Jezebel Walcott.” Draco took the lead.

“Yes, madam. We have already been to see her; unfortunately, she has had a bit of a personality change. The doctors feel she has developed dementia.” Mrs. Turner snorted and sipped her tea.

“Jezebel Walcott is a murderess who got away with it for years. Even when Juno told me what was going on, there was little we could do. These children seemed to come out of nowhere, and for many of them we couldn’t even prove they existed. Eventually, we had to shut her down for being unable to prove where the children came from and arrested her for embezzlement. The case eventually got dismissed on a technicality, but by that point we had shut her down.”

“We haven’t been able to find out much about her. We’re trying to find marriage certificates and the like. There was a fire about ten years ago in the county clerk’s offices and they burned, according to the woman I spoke with.

She grinned and opened a small file cabinet, both drawers of which were labeled “Walcott.” Apparently, Juno McGonagall wasn’t the only person who couldn’t let the case go.

Mrs. Turner opened a manila folder, slowly pulling out three certificates and laying them out in front of her. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the names. Mrs. Turner read them aloud.

“Jezebel took her third husband’s name back when she was arrested. Her other married names were Umbridge and Hess. Her maiden name though, was Govan.”

The room fell silent. It was Pansy this time who spoke up first.

“Madam, we are going to need copies of those certificates.”
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By the time the three made it to Kingsley’s office, the room was nearly full and the meeting had already started. They edged in past Blaise and took seats by the wall.

“Mr. Malfoy, I have checked the records, and brought the ledger. Miss Granger has requested three times to put off the hearing for her wand.”

“I most certainly have not! As you may recall, the reason I have to have a hearing in the first place to get a wand is because the very woman who is scheduling the hearings broke it!”

Madam Bones flushed, and then nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Oh, it gets better. We found out who is after Granger, and why.” Draco stood and started to pace, a situation made difficult as the Minister’s desk took up half of the room.

Kingsley’s growl seemed to echo through the room.

“Tell us Malfoy.”
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The conversation started by revealing Hermione’s alias as Marguerite Blakeney to a surprised room, then explained the murders Jezebel was most likely guilty of committing. As they wove in the break-in at the house on Cemetery Lane, and Jezebel’s mysterious visitor who had partially obliviated her, Kingsley’s face began to tighten. When the marriage certificates were pulled out and displayed, he seemed to be almost vibrating with rage.

“So what you are telling me is that this Govan woman is a healer who administered thalidimus potion late in pregnancy to pureblooded women so she could take the children who were thought to be squibs and put them in an orphanage run by her…”

“Sister.” Hermione supplied.

“Right. So then, the two sisters from hell experiment on the children, kill them off for new blood or for more money, and bury them in the backyard of the orphanage. Juno McGonagall figures it out, and manages to get it shut down. Jezebel gets out of a muggle prison term, but can’t get more children, so she ends up in a rest home, and is treated by her sister (the murdering hag), until she dies.”

“Then, Hermione’s book comes out, which threatens the Govan family line. Which makes no sense, because Jezebel killed her children in childhood. So there is no family.” Madam Bones said finally.

Hermione spoke up.

“Yes, but during this whole mess, Jezebel gets married three times. First to an Umbridge, and then to a Hess. Then, to a muggle-Walcott. So, Dolores Umbridge would be Jezebel’s niece.”

“And the last living member of the Govan line. That’s motive.”

Kingsley stood, and Harry stood as well. Fury seemed to almost crackle off of the minister, and Hermione was reminded of why he had been such a formidable Auror.

“Potter, find me everything you can on the Umbridge woman. Then, get her into custody. I want her sitting in a cell by sundown, do you understand? “. Harry nodded, and hurried out the door.

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The meeting broke up shortly afterward, and the Malfoys, Hermione and Pansy flooed back to the manor. It was shortly after twelve, and the manor was a beehive of activity. Elves were polishing crystal and setting a long table with china and silver. In the ballroom, the ancient oak dance floor gleamed golden. Lucius led her up a broad staircase and into a set of rooms where Ruby was standing, adjusting a strap of Pansy’s dress. A fresh bouquet of flowers adorned the entry table and Hermione smiled as Ruby squeaked and hurried over to hug her legs, then Pansy’s in greeting. With a promise to meet later, the men departed to their own quarters.

Pansy decided to shower first, and made her way into the bath. Hermione looked at the huge bed, and felt the exhaustion of the previous few days catch up with her. She stripped down to her knickers and pulled back the covers as she crawled under them. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
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Shadows were beginning to lengthen as she awoke, feeling the man next to her push her curls out of her face. She opened her eyes to see Lucius smiling at her, a private and devilish smile. He kissed her, a hungry kiss that she returned, feeling the cobwebs in her mind fall away.
She moaned softly as he straddled her; slipping her bra off and suckling at the soft, newly exposed flesh. Barely calloused fingertips slid feather light down her sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake until they arrived between her thighs. She hissed as a warm tongue laved her bare skin.

“Are you awake, my love?” He stroked her gently, watching the emotions play across her face. She tensed as he stroked more firmly, feeling the tendrils in her womb begin to unfurl. She responded by reaching for him, hearing a masculine chuckle in her ear.

“Not now, my love. Our guests will be arriving in less than two hours; I wanted you to get your rest; you won’t be getting much later.” He crawled off her, leaving her unfulfilled and flushed. “Ruby has run you a bath.”

He lifted her left hand to his lips and drew her fourth finger into his mouth. Swinging her up into his arms he carried her into the bath and set her into the tub. She moaned as she felt the water lap at her skin; not even noticing the black and clear diamond ring until she lifted her hand to wash her hair.

Ruby helped her into her dress and Pansy charmed her hair into a high bun brushed lightly with sparkles. Standing at the mirror, she surveyed the effect.

Her dress was strapless with layers of light black and grey chiffon that reached the floor. The back showed an expanse of pale, unblemished skin that made undergarments impossible. Pansy had painted smoky eyes, and left her full lips pale with only a touch of gloss. The effect was mysterious and she felt like the clichéd princess getting ready for a ball. Pansy’s dress was slightly more modest, but no less beautiful. A knock drew their attention.

As the group walked toward the staircase, strains of an orchestra could be heard as well as the rumble of the people decked out in their finery in the ballroom below. At Lucius’ nod, Ruby vanished to alert the orchestra. Hermione started to tremble with nerves until Lucius pulled her close before they could be seen.

“You are not inferior to anyone down there. You are the queen of this realm, not them. They are merely our court.” He kissed her fiercely, making her blush and causing her to clutch at him. Lifting her ring clad hand to his lips, he kissed it with reverence. They watched Draco and Pansy descend the staircase.

“Our turn.”

The scene was almost surreal. A room filled with faces was upturned to watch them. Even the orchestra had stopped playing to watch the lord and lady descend the grand white marble staircase. With a deep breath, Hermione turned to Lucius. He took her hand and the two slowly made their way to their guests. The effect on the gathered crowd was instant and very clear to those assembled.

They were looking at the new Mrs. Malfoy.

Hermione’s head was spinning as she stood at Lucius’ side greeting the guests. Lucius’ warm hand was at her back as he shook the hands of various dignitaries, and the women oohed and aahhed over her ring. She had been stunned when she realized he had slipped the diamond -laden ring on during her nap. At first, she had been furious with his presumption.

Then, she had paused. Lucius Malfoy was too proud to risk rejection, and the truth was that she would have said yes had he only asked. Yet, she knew his insecurities, and was actually happy that he didn’t feel the need to make a big deal of giving her the ring. It was truly beautiful; and she was secretly glad he hadn’t given her the Malfoy family ring; currently on the hand of Draco’s soon to be ex-wife and formerly on the hand of the late Narcissa Malfoy.

A short portly woman clad in glittering magenta robes moved close to Lucius, taking his hand in both of hers.

“Lucius, your home is simply the most elegant, the most…why I don’t have the words to describe it! Don’t you worry though, I’ll come up with them in time for my Prophet deadline!” She didn’t move on, but stepped closer, causing the elder Malfoy to remove his hand from Hermione’s waist to move back. She turned to look at him, as the woman continued to move closer to Lucius. Attempting to get the woman’s attention, Hermione reached out to touch her on the shoulder.

The woman turned away from Malfoy, and snarled at Hermione. Trying to defuse the situation in a dignified manner, Hermione smiled in what she hoped was a friendly expression.

“I’m very sorry, madam. This wizard is already taken.”

Muffled chuckles faded as the woman attempted to stare Hermione down. When that failed, she grabbed at Hermione’s hand and glared at the ring.

“Lucius, there is no reason to be with her just because has made some ridiculous claim . There are many very eligible witches with far superior bloodlines who are more deserving to be your wife. There is no need to pity her or lower yourself just to fit in to a new society.”

“Miss Diggory, the line is at a standstill. I must ask you to move on.” Lucius looked at the portly woman with disdain, and Rowan Diggory burst into tears. She ran from the receiving line and away from the room. Moments later, her uncle Amos Diggory made his way to the Malfoy patriarch.

“Lucius, I must apologize for my niece. She has been behaving so oddly lately.”

Lucius shook his head, with a grim sort of a turn of his lips.

“Amos, Miss Diggory owes my fiancée a public apology. I will not tolerate this sort of behavior.”

“Of course she will, Malfoy. As I was saying, she has been acting so strangely. She has been missing deadlines at work, and staying out all hours of the day and night. She used to come to our house for dinner, now she won’t let anyone in her house at all and won’t come to see us.”

Amos moved on, kissing Hermione’s hand before going to find his niece.

A tinkling bell sounded through the room, and the crowd began to move toward the dining room. Dinner was served.


As night fell, women changed from their high heeled dancing slippers into flats and drew their satin lined wool cloaks around themselves to walk down the gravel path to the beckoning bonfire on the arms of their husbands or escorts. Taking their place encircling the huge fire, the couples waited for the musicians to begin.

Around the flickering flame, the dancing began. Robes and dresses swirled as couples wove in and out of the firelight in a centuries old dance. In a celebration of the magical new year, the crème of society danced to the fiddlers and harpists as they kept warm with layers of clothing, the vigorous dance and from the heated gazes of various wizards to their ladies, they were warmed by desire as well.
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Watching from the sidelines, a jealous woman fumed as she watched the Mudblood and the man she had promised herself to be her husband dance. With each stolen kiss and caress, the voyeurs blood boiled. When a dance ended with a warm embrace between the two, the woman couldn’t take it anymore. Fingering the heavy gold pendant that was the symbol of her impeccable bloodline, one that had been removed from a filthy Squib by her thoughtful aunt and presented to her before the dance.

Rowan Diggory watched greedily as the diamonds on Hermione’s hand flickered from the flames. In time, that would be her ring, and she would rule from the elegance of Malfoy Manor. The women who had laughed behind their hands at her and dismissed her as a hanger-on would be begging for her notice. She would make them beg, make them wait upon her as she sat draped in the Malfoy jewels and held court in the gilded sitting rooms she had glimpsed tonight. She had been preparing for years; and no upstart Mudblood was going to stand in her way. Turning to an elf, she put her plan into action.
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Hermione laughed as she was pulled onto her fiancées lap. Leaning back , she felt Lucius kiss her neck and laughed; she was giddy on the clouds of magical energy surrounding the circle. Yes, she belonged back in the magical world; she wanted to feel the power in her body as she channeled her magic again. She was no longer ashamed of her power. Reaching for the glass an elf handed her, she was stunned as it was knocked from her hand. Ruby was next to her, tiny hands on her hips.

“Only I is to serve the mistress;” she snapped. Taking the glass with a dishcloth and wrapping it carefully, Ruby marched away, muttering.

Several feet away, a furious witch could do nothing but watch as the nauseatingly independent elf carefully emptied and carried away the cup containing thallium laced mulled cider. Clearly, a more direct approach was needed.

Hermione climbed off of Lucius’ lap and started to walk up toward the manor. With a cackle of glee, Rowan Diggory scooped up the familiar toad waiting on a rock. As Hermione reached the manor, she was knocked to the ground by a heavy body. She heard noises and calls as people ran toward them. They were too late: a teacup was slammed into her hand , and in front of a squeaking Ruby and a shouting Lucius and Kingsley, she vanished with a crack of apparition.

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Coming up next: The Showdown, and the Epilogue

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