Deliciously So... (Editing)

Disclaimers and thanks: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, that is J.K’s role, I hope she doesn’t mind me borrowing them…

I thank Persephone who betaed this chapter (twice because I sent her the wrong file), and who seems to have enjoyed it a lot more than me. Thanks honey!

Thank you all for reading my story, and for all the reviews which I adore. Keep them coming!


Wicraven: Thanks a ton, hope you like this.

La Bibliographe: Am very grateful I did not hook Hermione up with a Mountain Troll *shivers*, anyways, Draco is going to get over it hopefully or remain forever traumatised (not sure whether I’m that cruel…could be…LOL); Snape is certainly getting a hell of a show, whilst Hermione vs Lucius you shall see.

Die Hexe: Too quiet, must make amends. Thanks a bunch.

999: Indeed what could possibly happen at dinner time? Can get much worse, or could it *evil laugh* you can just read on and find out ^.^

Gaps of Misery: It honours me greatly that every new chapter is your favourite so far, thanks a lot! It’s incredible how so many people who felt no sympathy for Draco is feeling for him now. I must be really bad! LOL LGDHOR is on! I think many will join! Here is the new adventure of our favourite Drama queen :D


The Ticking of Time.


“Thanks again for everything,” she called back to the elves.

“Miss is welcome,” they squeaked in return as they watched her retreating back exit the kitchens. They marvelled at the Manor’s new guest, as different from its previous dwellers as could be humanly possible. She was kind, polite. She treated them as an equal, and as disturbing as it was at first, they were abandoning their feelings of uneasiness around her and responding as warmly as she always did.


She waited as the picture closed behind her, thus hiding the doorway. It was a pretty excellent piece of art. Initially she had not even taken a fleeting glance at it, but now she could truly stop and appreciate it. As with every other thing in the whole household, it permeated beauty and splendour, with just a touch of some dark shadow polluting its glory. It portrayed a beautiful young girl, whose body was covered only by her long golden hair and a form of intricately decorated cloth hanging from her hips covering her modesty. Despite this somewhat lurid appearance, the painting was far from vulgar; it was as if she represented something ancient and rare. It was fairly obvious who she was, as she was standing in a spectacular garden with unknown plants, leaning on a tree full of blood-red apples, a snake coiling itself around her neck, hissing soft words in her ear. Like every other painting it was gifted with life, but she did not speak. She mainly stroked the snake around her neck or reached for an apple, mesmerized by the words of encouragement of her tempting companion. It was of a unique manufacture and the painter had a singular talent, but the beautiful light hid a strange shadow: the young girl, when she was about to bite into the fruit, looked outside the painting with a pleading look in her eyes, silently begging for help.

Hermione had not been certain of this at first, but after observing for a minute or so, she had witnessed the girl’s plea again and again; she was begging someone to stop her from committing the Original Sin time after time. But what could anyone do about something that lived on in canvas? After taking one last look at Eve stroking the serpent, she walked away.

Four days had passed since her former professor had shown her the way to avoid starvation, and removed her from Lucius Malfoy’s wrath, which would have been undoubtedly unpleasant.

She scoffed at herself: Unpleasant? After all, I had said he would have probably murdered me. This brought her thoughts back to where they had been for the last few days. Where is everyone? She had expected her captor to barge into her room and punish her in some ghastly way for her impertinence or, in her opinion, courage. But he had not come. She had waited on tenterhooks the whole day, but nothing had come of her anxiety. She had walked quietly to the kitchens but had met no form of obstacle to her path. What had come at first as a relief then started to unsettle her.

There is no plausible explanation for anything on earth that would prevent Lucius Malfoy from taking vengeance for his offended pride. It is a complete wonder that he didn’t try to follow me straight after Professor Snape took me to the kitchens. So why is he prolonging his return so much? He can’t be trying to concoct some vengeful form of punishment, because it would not have taken him four days to put it into motion… But he wasn’t the only one who had made himself scarce. Snape had also disappeared since that eventful lunchtime, which meant they were probably together. That just left Draco, who if she was not mistaken was closed up in his rooms, only coming out to eat, or to go to the Library. Having found herself with no one else’s company but her own, she had explored the Manor rather thoroughly, and it was on these excursions that she had occasionally encountered Draco or, to be more precise, his shadow, since whenever she had so much as opened the door to enter the room he had disapparated on the spot. She could tell he did not want to be in her presence and was exceedingly grateful for that, but she was certain that there was something troubling him and the cause of it couldn’t solely be placed in her becoming his Father’s “toy”. There must be some other reason. In her normal state she might’ve wondered why she was even thinking about Draco, but her thoughts and suspicions were the only things that kept her mind off what would happen the moment Lucius Malfoy returned…


*****


He was practically bursting with fury. It was obvious that Severus had been assisting the girl, not only revealing the truth about their liaison in the Library, and disputing his requests to be left alone…no he had to go further: he had to help her by taking her away.

Several items of furniture and ornaments had already been broken, blasted or smashed, as he was trying to calm his temper. Picking up his crystal inkpot he threw it across the room and watched as it broke against the door, its black contents dripping down the wooden surface.

A faint pop announced the arrival of a particularly satisfied looking Snape, who took one glance around the room, and could not suppress a laugh.

“My, my Lucius. It certainly seems you are taking Miss Granger’s display of defiance like a man.”

He dodged gracefully out of the way of a soaring book and looked back at his friend sneering.

“Severus,” he hissed.

“Yes?” he replied, voice oozing with sarcasm.

But before he could so much as curse the dark-haired wizard, he felt his arm burn and knew he was being summoned. He glanced at his friend, who nodded, confirming that he too had felt it. Letting out a sigh, he banished his anger and changed into his Death Eater robes disapparating moments later.

They found themselves, unlike the previous night, in a dark and cold room. They saw a small shimmer of light and walked towards it. It was a solid stone wall, behind which someone appeared to be. Placing his hand on the cold surface, Lucius tried to push it, but it would not budge. Trailing his fingers along its surface, he felt a small engraving…a serpent. Clearing his throat, he whispered softly.

“My Lord, it is Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. We wish to beg for admittance.”

“Yes, enter,” a faint hiss replied, before the cold voice spoke again, this time in Paseltongue.

The stone wall slid aside, and they were greeted by a large stone room, lit with torches. Four armchairs were placed in the centre, near the Fireplace. On one of them sat Lord Voldemort his faithful Nagini coiled around it, her head resting next to that of her master.

“Come forward, my faithful servants. Take a seat. I wish to trust you on a most important and secret mission.”

Sitting down, they waited for him to continue. They looked around trying to see if any other of their companions were to arrive.

“No, don’t worry. No one else is trustworthy enough to listen to what I am about to say. Severus is already partially aware of what I am about to disclose. But you, Lucius I had to know I could trust you. I have had reason for my doubts, but you seem to be making amends for your past failures. You also did not question my eliminating your treacherous wife, Narcissa...” He paused, and seemed to taste the air, as if searching for an invisible reaction.

“She was a fool to question your wishes, my Lord,” he answered.

“Yes. And you must be aware that I loathe fools. As aware of the fact that were your son to refuse our cause he would be killed.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And that were he to betray me or disappoint me, your loyalty would not hold my punishment back?”

“He would be getting what he deserved, my Lord.”

Lord Voldemort let out his cold high-pitched laugh, “Indeed, Lucius. Exactly what he deserves. You seem to value me over your family. Or is it the fact that you fear for your life?”

He knew that were he to deny it, it would be a lie, and he would be punished and possibly killed. So he could only say the truth.

“I would be lying, my Lord, if I said I do not fear for my life and my well being. But I am willing to sacrifice both elements for you. Do with them as you see fit.”

He waited with baited breath, closing his eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears.

“Very well, Lucius. You understood flattery or denial would get you nowhere. You stated the truth, and that alone is admirable. You fulfil my requirements.”

“One question, my Lord. If you needed your most faithful Death Eaters, why is Bellatrix not here?” Snape asked softly.

“Bella does not know anything about self-control, nor does she think things out properly. She is useful in battle, as she acts without loosing time in thought. But in a delicate situation, such as this, she is totally incapable of restraints and would compromise the whole mission.”

“I see.”

Turning his red gaze to the blond wizard, he asked. “Do you recall, Lucius, the day of my resurrection? How you asked me how I had survived?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“What I did not reveal was the reason I was not killed when my own curse was sent back at me. Do you know why?”

“Maybe because, had this information been disclosed, there would have been the possibility of it reaching the Order and then maybe used against you, my Lord.”

“Very good, Lucius. Well it is time you knew what is the source of my immortality.”

Lucius listened carefully to what the Dark Lord said, absorbing every piece of information about how he had created various Horcruxes, with care. But when he mentioned off handily that his old school diary had been one of them, Lucius felt afraid, more afraid than he had ever felt in his whole career as a Death Eater. He sunk to his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort’s black robes.

“Forgive me, my Lord. I did not know you had entrusted me with such a valuable object. I was blinded by my selfishness. I-“

“Do not fret, Lucius. Of course I was quite displeased with you, but it does not matter now. I have various others. One or two less will not make any difference. And after all, if I had told you about the real nature of the diary, you would have doubtlessly taken better care of it.”

“I would have, my Lord.”

“Severus informed me that the night Dumbledore met his demise, the meddlesome wizard had gone with Potter to the location of one of my horcruxes and had succeeded in retrieving it. I had been wondering for some time whether they had destroyed it before he died. For some time this had troubled my mind greatly, but last night, I managed to enter Potter’s mind. Apparently, they had not collected the horcrux, but only a fake. Something placed there by someone who had already stolen it. Probing his mind ever so slightly, I found out something else: the thief had arrogantly placed a farewell note before departing.

To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this
but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match
you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.


This is what was written on the note. I wish you to find out who this R .A .B. is. If he is living, bring him here as I wish to repay him for his little escapade. If he is indeed dead, I want to know the whereabouts of his family. In short, I want my locket back. I will not accept failures. You have as much time as necessary, but if I do not see any improvements, I will punish you both. That is all.”

“Yes, my Lord,” they said, bowing and disapparating, arriving seconds later back in Lucius’ study, which appeared to have been cleared of it’s owner’s tyrannical rage by the devoted House Elves.

“Well,” started Lucius sitting in his chair, “For now I shall have to leave our prior discussion unfinished, but do not think I have forgotten.”

“Of course not.”

“So…”

“So...”

“Any idea who R . A . B. could be?”

Sighing, the Potion Master seated himself in front of the oak desk, “Well, from what the note said, it appears whoever it was seems to have known the Dark Lord reasonably well. Also, he knew about the horcruxes, his immortality and the prophecy. This leads me to believe that it could have been a trusted Death Eater. That would account for the fact that he suspected he would be dead, probably for his betrayal.”

“True, that is a strong possibility. But who out of our midst has been killed that could go by those initials?”

“I’m not sure. If he was one of us, he would be of a Pureblood family, and there are few who have a surname beginning with B.”

“So it may not be one of us.”

“We would have to go through the wizard registry book. That has every Pureblood, Half blood and Muggleborn. We just have to hope we can find R .A .B. there. Otherwise we’re left with two cumbersome possibilities: either it is not a real name, or it belongs to a foreigner, and that could take forever to find out.”

“May I point out, Severus. That we, especially you, cannot walk up to the Registration office to request viewing the book. We would need to have polijuice potion, and also a signed permission to view them. I suppose that neither will create too many problems to obtain.”

“Who do I need to transform into? Or do you also feel it necessary to have some potion?”

“I can manage without I’m sure, and I think you should turn into someone rather ordinary and someone you are certain has no connections with the Ministry or the Order. Can you think of anyone? ”

“There is no need to look too far. All we need is to find a Muggle. There is no danger of being discovered by friends or relatives.”

“God, Severus. As brilliant as it is, I find it quite disgusting that you even suggest ingesting something with that filth in it.”

“Your prejudices are some times too much even for you. I will not die because I take a potion with a few hairs in it.”

“Rather you than me.”

“Well let’s get to work.”


*****


They apparated in the Entrance Hall, their travelling cloaks swaying. Blinky was there already waiting for it’s Master to hand it his cloak.

“Merlin, I will have to bathe god-knows how many times to remove all the dust and that foul smell that hung in that disgusting room.” Lucius said in disgust, flinging his cloak and gloves to the waiting Elf, who did not repeat past mistakes and did everything impeccably. “Not to mention that disgusting inn. First class suite, don’t make me laugh!”

“You know, Lucius. Maybe for someone who is not used to having all the riches he could wish for, those disgusting rooms and inn weren’t that bad.”

“I will settle only for what I deserve,” he snapped. “If it wasn’t that we had to stay nearby to access the rooms for four consecutive days, there would have been no way in Hell or Heaven I would have stayed there one single moment.”

“At least you didn’t have to keep taking Polyjuice Potion on the hour.”

“That is no concern of mine,” he hissed. He was tired, and was well aware that it had been pretty much useless. Also he had no idea what had happened between his son and the girl the last few days.

He could tell his friend was in a foul mood, and after all their incessant work reading through mountains of papers on any witch or wizard, Pureblood and not, they had not reached very satisfying results.

“I hope I will not have to wait to have a bath,” Lucius enquired coldly to his servant.

“N-no, Ma-master. Blinky has prepared hot bath for Master.”

“Finally something right. And tell Draco to come to my rooms at let’s say…” he looked at the large clock that read half past four, “Six o’clock. Understood?”

“Y-yes, M-master.”

“Severus,” he nodded curtly before disapparating to his rooms for what he hoped to be a palliative soak in the tub.


*****


He had indulged in a very long and relaxing bath, enjoying the hot steamy water enveloping his body . He paid particular attention to washing his hair, and rubbed in some bath oils over his taught skin. Although he would have preferred dedicating his thoughts to any possible way of repaying the mudblood, he was also aware that his son’s time was up, and wanted to ascertain that Draco knew what he was doing but also knew he had no choice.

Wrapping himself with feather soft towels, he could feel his wet hair leave trails of water down his back. Taking his wand, he dried and styled his hair in less than a minute. Walking up to his cherry wood wardrobe, he took out some black trousers and a shirt, with some black leather boots to match. He looked at the Grandfather clock, listening with a surprising calm to the soft hypnotizing ticking of the seconds. When the two hands aligned with one another, he heard a knock on his door partially covered by the ringing sound of the clock.

“Enter,” he called.

“Hello, Father,” said the pale Draco as he entered the door, Blinky behind him.

“Do-does Ma-master require anything else of Blinky?” it squeaked.

“Yes, serve me some tea.” As he sat down in one of the armchairs near the fireplace he watched as a tray materialized before him. “That is all. I do not wish to be disturbed unless it is a matter of discrete importance.”

“Y-yes, Master,” it said and disappeared.

“Please, Draco have a seat.”

“Yes, Father.”

“So how have you been during my absence?”

“Fine.”

“And Miss. Granger?”

“I wouldn’t know precisely. I have heard her moving around but never actually saw her.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t like being in the same room as her, Father. It was bad enough having her at school all these years, let alone having her in my own home!”

Luscius raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Well…yes, but if your wish is her being here, I have nothing against it,” he added quickly.

“Very well,” he stopped a moment and with a wave of his wand, made the tea set prepare two cups of tea that were subsequently levitated to Draco and himself.

“Now, Draco I will take it that you know perfectly well I have not just called you here for some small talk…”

“Yes, Father,” he whispered.

“I also hope you have used these days to think about your situation. I would be disappointed if you hadn’t.”

“I have thought about it, Father.”

“Before you tell me about your decision, let me state this: do not, for any ill-conceived reason, think I will protect you. You are alone in this. Do not even dare to dream that I will help or save you in any way. Because I will not.” He sipped his tea, eyes still on his paling son. “Do not mistake me for your foolish mother. Naricissa, although impeccable in her lineage, beauty and manners, lacked an equal excellence of intellect. If she had, she would not have disregarded any of the Dark Lord’s wishes. She wasted her life, you know. I will not do the same. It is your own burden. I have sacrificed myself, with pain for many a year, just to stay alive, and I will not throw all of my efforts away just for you, son. I am not heartless though, I will give you some advice.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Lucius’ icy eyes fixed his son intently before he said in a soft whisper, “Any path you choose, Draco, leads to Death.”

Draco gulped visibly, the teacup clattering on the saucer as his hands trembled.

“We are but mortals, son. We cannot avoid our fate. It is the only one we all share. We can try to prolong our life as much as possible, but we will all meet the same end. Ahead of you are three paths: to deny the Dark Lord, for which you will die, possibly by my hand if you are fortunate and the Dark Lord merciful, allowing you to die in a quick and painless death; You could flee, which would earn you torture and ultimately death, but in such a case, not even I could stop your pain; Lastly, you could take the Mark. If you fail during your services you will be tortured, if you annoy the Dark Lord you will be killed. It is that simple.”

He placed his cup back on the tray.

“So, Draco. What do you choose?” he asked softly.

“I-” he started but was interrupted by a faint knock on the door.

“Yes?” Lucius enquired coldly.

Blinky apparatd with a crack.

“Did you not understand my request not to be disturbed?”

“Y-yes, Master. I i-is sorry, Ma-master…b-but…”

“But?”

“We i-is having gue-guests.”

“Guests?” He asked with a bit of surprise.

“Y-yes, Ma-master. Th-the LeStranges have come for dinner.”



Author’s Note: Let me say that as with Severus’ loyalty mine is a hazardous guess. As such I’m trying to be ambiguous on purpose. I think I know who R.A.B is but as I can’t be sure, I’ll leave little hints here and there without saying everything. As I doubt I’ll have finished by the time book 7 finally comes out I want to leave my options open (if they are needed)…

Oh and could you tell me what your reactions for Lucius’ fatherly talk were? I’m asking because Persephone, possibly broke a couple of ribs laughing…not sure it was the effect I was after, but I’m curious now…do you find it terribly depressing or absurdly ludicrous?

Ophelia