Lucius\' Bookshelves

Chapter 12

Hermione woke up still and sore. Moving gingerly, she couldn’t help but wonder if the soreness came from the multiple blasting spells she had cast yesterday, or if it was a side-effect from the effingorum spells. She sighed. She had finally done it. She had taken that first step to the Dark Side. Her lips twisted into an ironic grin. At least it was something else she now had in common with Lucius.

Lucius. He was apparently serious about what he had said yesterday. She giggled nervously in the empty room. Luckily, the mirror was still asleep, and there were no caustic replies. Gods. Her fingers reached to pinch the bridge of her nose before she realized that she must have subconsciously picked up one of Lucius’ mannerisms.

I’m casting Dark spells, I drink brandy in the evenings, and now I seem to have picked up his gestures. Gods. She groaned.

Damn it. Did she love him? Hmph. She considered this for a moment. Certainly she desired him. She blushed. She definitely desired him. And she enjoyed the time she spent in his company. In fact, in the weeks that she had been at Malfoy Manor, she learned that she had never before truly appreciated the merits that could be found in a dry wit and a quick mind. Lucius was a challenge, but a decidedly enticing one. But damn it. This was Lucius Malfoy. Former right-hand man of the Dark Lord.

But he recanted, the voice in her brain replied.

Yes, but does anyone really believe that he recanted for reasons other than sheer pragmatism? This was Lucius Malfoy, after all, and pragmatism seemed to be the one word missing from the family coat of arms.

Does it really matter whether he was sincere or not? She wondered.

Of course it mattered. If he wasn’t forthright in his disavowal of his former Lord, who was to say that he wouldn’t revert back to his old ways.

Gods. She had to talk to him. She had to ask him about all the things that she had been hesitant to discuss. If she didn’t, she’d never rightfully give him a chance. And she knew that it wouldn’t be fair to dismiss him just because of his background.

Clearly, the cabinet members from the Ministry were hoping that if they just kept Lucius isolated, they wouldn’t ever have deal with him again, and they could ignore difficult questions concerning his professed change of heart.

But what if Lucius says that he really only changed sides because he saw the way the battle was going? What then? That was a good question. It would probably really all depend on how he said it.

She got out of bed, dressing slowly as a convention of butterflies began to take up residence in her stomach. She’d have to talk to him today. There was no question about it. Putting it off would only make it harder.

****

Still feeling unsettled, she’d only had a few bites of toast before heading to the library. If Lucius was there, she was going to talk to him. If not, she’d just see about packaging up the books that were still there, so she could send them to the Ministry.

The library was deserted, so somewhat relievedly, Hermione sat down at the desk and began to write her response to the Ministry. At least she was being honest in sending them the Dark Arts texts that they expected. She smiled inwardly with more than a little bit of pride; the Ministry had never mentioned anything about not keeping copies of the texts. If casting Dark spells was the price of preserving knowledge, then she was willing to bear the burden.

“Hermione. I hate to interrupt you, but I was wondering if you might do something for me.” He paused, trying to stop himself from touching her. He knew he had to give her time. He had made a sweeping declaration to her yesterday, and no doubt she needed time to process it. Giving in slightly to his desires, he rested his hand on her shoulder, promising himself that he wouldn’t go any further, despite the burning desire to run his fingers through her hair, and to draw her to him.

Hermione looked up, her stomach leaping into her throat. This was it, she was going to talk to him before he left the library. She had to. Trying to control the tremors in her voice, she turned to him, “What can I do for you?”

Lucius’ face was tinged with pink, almost looking embarrassed. “I took your advice from the other day, and have written to Draco. I was wondering if you might be able to spare a moment of your time to look it over to see if I’ve inadvertently offended him in any way.” Hermione noticed that the older wizard didn’t make eye contact with the last statement. Clearly his thoughts on Draco were still conflicted.

“Sure. I’d be happy to take a look.” She took the proffered parchment and scanned through it. “Well, I’d invite both him and Harry to visit – they’ll both be insulted if you don’t invite him. And,” she looked back at the parchment, “I wouldn’t mention anything about why you want to talk to him. I’d just say that you hope both of them are doing well, and that you’d love to see them. Then, if they decide to visit, and the situation is right, you might want to talk to Draco about, uh, specific family issues. But I wouldn’t push too hard with him.”

She looked up at Lucius. “I’d concentrate on building – or rebuilding, really – a relationship with Draco. He’s young – he’s got plenty of time to make decisions with regard to, er, that.” She paused, taking a breath, uncertain as to how he’d take her next statement. “From what I’ve gathered from Harry, Draco doesn’t really trust your motives.” That was an understatement, to say the least. “So, I’d just take it slow with him, and see how it goes.”

Lucius frowned. Draco didn’t trust his motives? And what was Potter doing discussing Malfoy family matters with anyone? Of course, she was right. Which was probably why Potter did turn to her for advice. Damn girl. He smiled, nodding his head.

He turned to leave, but Hermione reached out her hand to him. “Wait, Lucius. Please. I, uh, I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, and now that this,” she gestured to the books on the table, “is pretty much taken care of, I wanted to talk with you.”

Lucius nodded and raised his eyebrows inquisitively as her pointed to one of the wing chairs by the fire. Hermione nodded and got up from the desk.

She waited until they were both seated before she began. She took a breath and plunged in. “Needless to say, I’ve hear a lot of things about your, uh, relationship with Voldemort. But everything I’ve heard has been at least second hand. If not third or fourth hand. I’d like to hear your side of things,” she smiled briefly. “Knowing how the Ministry operates, I doubt there are too many people who’ve actually heard your side of the story.”

Lucius inclined his head slightly, a smile on his face. The woman was certainly direct. “Thank you for actually asking me for my version of events. You’d be surprised how few people ever bothered to do that.”

Hermione nodded slowly. So far, so good, she guessed.

“Hermione. I value your opinion of me more that I can say. And I couldn’t think of being anything less than honest with you. It may not be what you want to hear, but I would appreciate it if you would do me the honor of listening to all that I have to say.” Hermione nodded. “Of course, it would be possible for you to take what I say and go directly to the Ministry.” He paused. He didn’t think she would. In fact, he’d have bet one of the family vaults at Gringotts that she wouldn’t do that. Still it was a chance he’d have to take.

Hermione smiled weakly. app appreciate your honesty. And believe me, I have no desire to share much of anything with the Ministry.”

Lucius nodded. Yes. It was unlikely that a woman who went against all of her training and used Dark spells to prevent the Ministry from obtaining his family’s Dark Arts collection would turn against him. His lips hinted at a smile. Yes, this would be an interesting exploration in trust for both of them.

Hermione nodded again. C’mon Lucius. Get on with it. The butterflies continued to congregate in her stomach.

“The Ministry assumed that I was Voldemort’s right hand. And I was. But so were several others. Voldemort didn’t really trust any of us.” Lucius’ voice was tinged with disgust, his eyes focused on a point far outside the library walls. “Foolish, really. He might have succeeded if he had put his faith in his followers.” Lucius sounded almost wistful for a moment.

“But perhaps, your underlying question is why I allied with the Dark Lord at all.” He paused, stretching his legs out in front of him. Hermione noticed for the first time, that Lucius was wearing particularly sober-looking clothing. Indeed, she hadn’t seen him in anything this plain since she had arrived at the Manor. “You’ve seen my family’s coat of arms and motto.” He paused again, his mouth working to form his next words. “The unspoken family motto was that it was each generation’s duty to increase the family’s wealth and power.”

“As a young man, garnering more power for myself was really just a game. And in that vein, I joined Voldemort.” He paused, standing up to remove his jacket before sitting down again.

“You see, when I was young, I felt that it was necessary to do something out of the ordinary to gain my father’s approval. I assumed that bringing myself to the forefront of power in the wizarding world would do just that.” Lucius’ eyes found that distant point again.

“My father agreed, and supported my bid to become a Death Eater.” Lucius paused again as his fingers fumbled with the onyx cufflink on his left shirtsleeve. “Voldemort – himself a half-breed – was pleased to have a cohort of aristocratic representatives joining him.” Lucius finally got the cufflink undone, and he placed it on the table next to him.

He rolled up the white silk sleeve, and turned his forearm to Hermione, the Dark Mark visible on his pale skin. Hermione sucked in her breath through her teeth. Unlike Severus’ mark that had faded significantly, Lucius’ mark was still clear, and dark.

“Voldemort was happy to have our support. And in return, he allowed us free reign to fulfill our personal desires. And please understand, Hermione, for a youth born to wealth and privilege, typical passions quickly become ordinary and mundane. You begin to seek out new experiences, each one more dangerous and unique that the previous one. Passions became twisted and depraved under Voldemort. He encouraged us, because he thought he could control us that way.”

“And certainly, I enjoyed it. It was my birthright. The world was destined to be mine, and I had it in my grasp.” Hermione detected a fanatical gleam in Lucius’ eyes. She subtly pressed her forearm against her thigh, reassuring herself that her wand was readily accessible in her sleeve if she needed it. She hoped she wouldn’t.

Lucius caught Hermione’s movement out of the corner of his eye. Rather than being offended, however, he smiled inwardly at Hermione’s self-confidence.

He had rolled his sleeve down again, hiding the damning mark from Hermione, although her glance kept returning to his arm.

“Joining Voldemort was a game. I was trying to prove myself to my ancestors, and this was a fitting arena.”

Hermione’s voice was clear, her shock at his words evident. “A game? What about the people that were tortured and killed on Voldemort’s orders? Were they aware that this was a game?”

Lucius shook his head slowly, his grey eyes still very far away. “No. They were part of the game, even if they didn’t realize it. Causalities of war. Pawns in a game of power. Like chess. You must sacrifice some pieces in order to achieve victory.”

He paused, his voice becoming hard when he spoke again. “Your parents probably raised you to believe that you could be anything you wanted to be. Malfoys are raised only to carry on the family’s position, and to create more Malfoys. That’s it. And as long as those obligations are fulfilled, everythelseelse becomes a game. When you have so much money to start with, investments and other financial issues are simply a game of increasing your wealth. Similarly, with power, it all became a game of privilege.

Hermione’s filled with tears suddenly, and she tried to blink them away. She wasn’t sure whether it was Lucius’ honesty about his past actions that had brought them on, or a pang of distress for a man whose life had been dedicated to a name.

Lucius noticed the tears, “Don’t feel sorry for me, Hermione. I was an ambitious man. I didn’t regret my family’s choices, and I didn’t regret my decisions. I reveled in my birthright. Because that’s what it was. It wasn’t a burden, it was an opportunity.” His voice was harder than he had intended, but he was secretly pleased that she was concerned.

“The decision to join Voldemort was risky, and ultimately, it was a bad decision. I was unsuccessful in my ambition to make the Malfoys the most powerful family in the world.” Lucius’ tone was flat, devoid of emotion, as if he were reading off Gringott’s current interest rates.

Hermione’s surprise at his demeanor must have been evident, because Lucius continued, “Am I bitter about being part of a failed cause? No.” He smiled derisively, his eyes seeing things that she could not. “My family has been around for centuries. Dark wizards have risen and fallen, fortunes and power have waxed and waned. I am just part of that cycle. I did what I could to increase my own power. Now that my bid has failed, I will simply work to preserve the family holdings for the next generation.”

“So-,” Hermione began uncertainly. She wasn’t sure how to ask this without sounding incredibly rude, and yet she had to know. Lucius’ eyes slowly focused on Hermione. “So, were, uh, you sincere when you turned against Voldemort?”

“I was decidedly sincere. But perhaps not for the reasons you may think. I saw the direction the battle was going, and I knew that Voldemort was a lost cause. I knew that the only hope was to turn to the other side. Of course, had Voldemort been winning, I would have stayed with him. Not something that I would have told the Ministry, mind you,” he finished with a smirk.

Hermione shook her head slowly. Damn it. He was just looking to protect himself.

Of course he was, the Devil’s advocate in her head responded. Have you not listened to a word he said?

Lucius saw that Hermione’s face had suddenly become pale, so he continued, “Things changed. I had to change with them or be finished off. Voldemort was through. And because my loyalty lies with my heritage, not with Voldemort, I was able to sincerely renounce him.”

The conviction in his voice was clear, and Hermione found herself able to speak again. “But you never apologized for, for all the, er, things you did.”

“No. I didn’t. I am not the same man as the one who committed those acts. I am older, I am wiser, I am less blood-thirsty. And more importantly, my life has changed. Times changed, and I had to change with them. Because I am not the same man, I cannot apologize for someone I am not. At the time, I did what was necessary, and what I could. Perhaps I enjoyed them more than I should have. But at the time, I did not regret my actions, and I feel it would be hypocritical to do so now.”

Lucius raised his hands in mock defeat. “I cannot change who I was in pas past. And he will always be a part of me. I am no longer the man I once was – I have changed. That is all anyone can do, I think.” Lucius’ voice had dropped, his eyes drawn to his left forearm. “I won’t ever completely rid myself of the Dark Lord, and that is why the Ministry has confined me to my Manor.” His final words were little more than a whisper. “But please, Hermione. Don’t judge me by who I was. Judge me by who I am now.”

Hermione sat still, her mouth slightly open, uncertain as to how to react. Lucius had completely overwhelmed her. The older wizard looked at her, his eyes flecked with curiosity as to her response.

Oh gods. This was too much. Conflicting emotions fought one another for control. She was struck by his honesty and sincerity; she doubted that he had told anyone what he had just told her. Still, she couldn’t accept that he didn’t feel guilty – or at least bad – about the atrocities he had committed. And yet she felt sad, too, for the young Lucius who had been raised to believe that the ends justified the means. Guilt rose in her, too. She couldn’t believe that she was having a hard time accepting him as a changed man. And yet her heart warmed at his direct honesty

She looked over at Lucius. A slight flicker of fear found its way inis eis eyes. Surely she wasn’t going to leave him, was she?

“I- uh.” She stopped. There really were only a few things to ask. Making inane comments wouldn’t help. “You, er, are aware that I’m muggleborn, right?”

Lucius laughed, more out of ef tef than at her question. He quickly sobered at her intense look. “Yes. I am aware of that. At dot doesn’t make a difference. Not at all.”

The conflicting emotions were slowly sorting themselves out, leaving the glowing realization that Lucius trusted her enough to tell her all that he had.

Hermione continued watching Lucius, her voice softer. “Am I safe with you?”

A look of confusion washed over Lucius’ face. Had he ever given her any reason to think that she wasn’t safe? Where did she get that idea? Perhaps, it occurred to him as realization dawned, it was her way of asking him if he was going to revert to his old ways. “Yes. You are safe with me.”

Hermione nodded slowly, her mind still reeling from his earlier revelations.

“Hermione. Yesterday, I told you that I was prepared to offer you everything but my name. I would like to repeat that offer, with the assurance that I would never do anything to you that you would find displeasing.”

She debated stalling, putting him off, giving herself time to reason through her decision. But in her heart, she knew the decision would still be the same.

“I trust you. If you’ll have me, I’d like to stay with you.” She paused, wondering briefly what is reaction would be at her next words, but it was the least she could do, given that he had just done it for her. “I give myself to you unreservedly.”

A slow smirk quickly broadened into a grin, and he stood up and went over to her, pulling her up from her chair. “An excellent choice of words, my dear. Because I wish to take you unreservedly.” Her drew her into him, his lips finding hers, her body shivering excitedly at his words.

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A/N: Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews - I really appreciate it! Needless to say, this chapter is sort of an overly long development of the notion that Malfoys are nothing if not adaptable. And yes.... the next chapter will be some serious smut. (Like you couldn\'t tell!) I think Hermione wanted to stay with Lucius before his big long admission, but this sort of cements it for her.

Anyway, again thanks for the notes and the thoughtful reviews!