Wizard's Porn

He’d found her. found her.



At ten o’clock, Lucius apparated to the coordinates. He found a small cottage – the and not a light to be seen.



“Who is in bed by ten o’clock?” Lucius muttered, “She is not performing this evening, perhaps she has gone out?”



Casting a lumos, he found the stonework had been recently whitewashed, the window frames recently stained a plain-chocolate brown. A similarly stained barn door was surrounded by a creeping vine on trellis, that would probably prove to be a clematis in a warmer season. The flowerbeds next to the purple slate path were ridiculously neat, not a weed to be found; but they were the biggest mash of colours, not coordinated.



He hadn’t expected the incredibly well woven wards that encased her little cottage like a blanket. Nothing was going to get in or out of that property without her knowing. The tracking spell had taken a good while, but he’d known it take longer for less strong wards.



“If she’s not here, I might as well know who I’m romancing.” He mumbled to himself.



Lucius, drawing on his skills as a former Death Eater, slowly and methodically started to break down the protective charms. He discovered that the final charms were so thoroughly intertwined and knotted together that he had to break one verbally but wandlessly, whilst simultaneously breaking another one silently with his wand.



The last charm dissolved, five hours later. The sky beginning to lighten. He was exhausted, but he’d finally learn who he was after courting.



Opening the door, he was glad to find it well oiled as the hinges didn’t squeak. In the gloom, he could see that the space was rather small. A comfortable sofa dominated the room he entered, a desk beneath the window was empty, surrounded by similarly bare shelves for parchments. The fireplace was an odd shape, slim, but tall enough for a man to step through with only a slight bend at the shoulders. It arched at the top and the ruddy brickwork of the chimney was surrounded by gleaming tiles covered in designs of wild flowers. The floor was comprised of well worn, but cared for floorboards and a deep pile rug. There was no clutter, and nothing out of place.



Lucius silently crept to one door, opened it and was presented with a small hallway – or more accurately, an antechamber of a flight of stairs and four doors, one which he’d just stepped through.



Lucius crept silently through one door, following the little light provided by his wand and committing everything he saw to memory.



One door led to a reasonably large kitchen, painted a pale yellow with a terracotta stone floor. The cupboards were white, small flowers stencilled on the fronts. The marble worksurface was spotless, nothing cluttering the space. The stove gleamed by the light of his wand, and Lucius knew his Juliet was a fan of cleanliness. A small dining table and four chairs sat against one wall, near a pantry. A folded piece of furnature – perhaps a stool – was propped up against the wall.



There was nothing in this room to give him any information about Juliet – other than she liked a spotless kitchen.



Moving back into the antechamber, he peered into the other room, and was met with a small library. Bookcases lined the walls, leaving a gap for the window and door; there were even four in a small square in the centre of the room to maximise the space.



“She likes order, cleanliness and books.” Lucius whispered, realising he’d have to search further.



He opened the third door of the antechamber to be met with a cupboard acting as a cloakroom.



Lucius cast a little-known spell against the stairs, the ones that creaked glowed blue in the dim, he knew which ones to avoid stepping on. The upper floor showed another antechamber and three rooms, Lucius started at one end; finding a small, but function able bathroom, nothing was left out on view, everything in small cupboards.



The next room was small, containing a crib… oh yes, she had a son. It suddenly struck Lucius that she might actually be married. Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner?



“Though, why would a married woman, with a child work at the Theatre?” he whispered, peering into the cot.



Inside, a little boy lay on his front, his bottom in the air, clutching his bedcovers. Lucius had always marvelled at how an infant Draco could fall asleep in a range of uncomfortable-looking positions. This little lad was evidently no exception. With the dim light of his wand, Lucius could see the boy had sandy brown hair that looked like it would curl, but he almost dropped his wand at what he saw next.



Purebloods had some interesting genetic quirks, and he was looking at one now – a deep pink, hollow, inverted teardrop mark on the back of the neck. Lucius had seen that mark every morning in his Hogwarts dormitory – the little lad was a Lestrange, and the hollow teardrop marked him as the Lestrange heir.



“But Bella’s dead. Very dead.” He whispered. “And Lestrange was locked up with the dementors.”



Lucius left the room, gently closing the door. He moved to the last door. He viewed her siloette from under the quilt as she continued to breathe deeply in sleep, it was her for definite.



Increasing the illumination, he moved over to the bookcase opposite the bed. Choosing a tome he recognised as part of the Hogwarts curriculum, he opened it, hoping to find a name.



Property of Hermione Jane Granger



He opened a different book at random to find:



Property of Hermione Jane Granger



And another:



Property of Hermione Jane Granger



And yet another book revealed:



Property of Hermione Jane Granger



Lucius stood there stunned, Hermione Granger, the brains behind the downfall of Voldemort lived in a cottage, in the middle of nowhere, with a child and worked in the Theatre of Pleasures?



No.



It couldn’t be the mudblood who’d locked him in Azkaban who he wanted to court! It couldn’t be!



All rational thought left Lucius as he pulled the quilt from the woman to inspect the magical signature – the complex spell work matched.



It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t



Moving his wand down to her face, he looked at her more closely, if he squinted he saw Juliet.



“Expeliamus!” she cried, waking to find a wand in her face.



“Merlin!” Lucius cried, silently accioing his wand back to his hand.



“Lumos!” she cried, and the stubs of candles came to life around the room. Her eyes widened, pure fear filling them. “No. No. Not again. No!”



Lucius barely had time to cast a shield charm before the curses came thick and fast. They ate through his shield and he gave up its maintenance against the little spitfire in pyjamas. He stunned her on his fifth attempt, and she dropped to the floor.



“Fuck.” He muttered, picking her up and quickly apparating her back to the Manor; belatedly remembering the child and going back for him.



He placed them both in a spare room, he locked the door behind them both. Neither could escape until he’d come up with a decent plan.



He forced a sedative potion down her throat, and waited five minutes before lifting the spells on them both. He transfigured the door into a one way window so he could watch her, them.



“Ma? Maaaa!” screamed the little boy, crawling over to her and patting her face with little chubby hands, he babbled in his own language between his tears.



“Shhh… brave little boy. Shhh. Don’t cry baby, don’t cry.” She slurred, trying to move, but unable. “Brave boy. Brave, brave boy. Be brave for Mummy. Mummy will try to be brave too. Big boy.” She said before falling into unconsciousness.



“Ma? Ma? Ma?” the little lad cried, huge tears falling down bright red cheeks into his little pyjamas. “Ki?” he sobbed a moment later, managing to get to his feet to look around the room, “KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! Ma! Ma!” he screamed, falling down onto his padded bottom as he continued to cry. He crawled over to his Mother and curled into her embrace on the floor, still crying. At least the floors were warm with a cushioning charm on them.



The blonde didn’t know what to do, and went to his library in search of a stiff drink and a floo call to Severus. Snape would, hopefully, know what happened to the heroine of the wizarding world.



* * * * *



Severus Snape sat in his pyjamas and dressing gown in front of the Malfoy Manor Library fireplace, sipping at a very strong black coffee. His spying was long over, and coupled with his recent worsening of his health (and Poppy banning him from patrolling), meant he wasn’t used to being nocturnal anymore.



“Severus, what happened to her?” Lucius asked, staring into his glass thoughtfully.



“Why do you care?” the dark-haired man sniped back, very pissed off at being dragged from his nice warm bed at three in the morning.



“I’ll tell you my tale, when you’ve told me hers.” He repied.



“Fine.” Snape said, gulping down more caffeine, “While you were in Azkaban, the third time, she was kidnapped during a raid; she managed to get Potter out of whatever situation they’d been in and threw her emergency Order portkey around Weasley. The Death Eaters took her to the Dark Lord, where she became the main attraction at a revel.”



“Oh fuck.” Lucius whispered, wide eyed.



“The ranks were at their strongest at that time, and thirty lived in the Manor, only two didn’t take part – you and I. I was gladly unable, after disappointing him The other Death Eaters stunned me and threw me outside in the cold.”



“Go on.”



“I have no idea how long they… well… you know.” He shrugged, looking guilty. “I woke outside in the snow and crawled back in past the room they’d thrown her in; you couldn’t tell there was even a person under all the bruising, open wounds and torn clothes. I could tell from how she twitched that they’d crucioed her; her knee was obviously dislocated, as were both her elbows. Her fingers were all out of shape too. She looked at me, she tried to speak and couldn’t. She just stared at me through the bars of the cell.”



“I left, I went straight back to the order, and we planned a rescue mission; it took us five days to get into Malfoy Manor, down into the dungeons, and get her out. She was barely alive, in fact, we had to resuscitate her three times before we got her off Malfoy land, the portkey also stole her life, and we resuscitated her the moment we landed on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place… it took three months for her injuries to heal, another month longer for her to wake from her coma, and it was then that Madam Pomphrey discovered… Miss Granger was pregnant.”



“I began brewing the potion to end the child’s life, as she woke from her coma; no one would want to carry and raise a child who was created from such evil events… but Miss Granger surprised us all in point blank refusing the potion. She may not have made the effort to recover if it wasn’t for the life growing inside her.”



Lucius hadn’t blinked for the longest time, and he blanched to a paler shade than his skin already was.



“Potter, furious that his best friend was in such a state, literally ripped Voldemort to shreds with a spell she’d invented. There wasn’t enough of the Dark Lord left to fill a match box once Potter’s rage was complete.” Severus sighed, “Potter blames himslef for her torture, rape and pregnancy; Weasley won’t look at her… and Miss Granger refuses to talk about it to anyone other than some therapist person. I worked with her for months to lock the nightmares away into her mind – she refused to be obliviated.”



“Why? Why would she want to remember that?” Lucius whispered, stunned.



“Oblivarating such a horrendous event does more harm than good, and rarely will it take the memories away fully. It was safer for her mind to be basically left alone; we only worked with her subciousous REM sleep state.”



He took another gulp of coffee, “The wizarding world does not approve of an unwed Mother, and Miss Granger refused the proposals of Potter, Longbottom and all the unwed male Weasleys.



“Rita Skeeter managed to get hold of the truth from a Death Eater in Azkaban, and printed all of the interview – all of it. But the stupid bitch painted Miss Granger to be in the wrong because she didn’t terminate the pregnancy; and society, being the sheep they are, believed her poisoned words, and promptly shunned her...



“The most brilliant witch in an age couldn’t get onto the grounds of any university – never mind take a course; she couldn’t gain decent employment; because of poor employment, Gringotts wouldn’t grant her a mortgage, Potter pays most of the rent. She lives day to day and tries to provide the best she can for her son.



“I offered her a Potions apprenticeship, which she politely refused; law is her calling, no matter how good her potion brewing skill.”



Severus, now awake, looked at his old-time friend, “Now, you tell your tale, Lucius.”



“Hermione Granger is Juliet.”



Severus looked gobsmacked for a moment, “There’s more to this isn’t there?”



* * * * *



Half an hour later, Severus pinched the bridge of his large nose. “You broke into Miss Granger’s home, duelled her, stunned her, kidnapped her and her child, forced a sedative down her throat and locked her in a guest room?”



“That summarises everything nicely.” Lucius said in a whisper.



“You became obsessed with her glamoured self, and even when she said no, you pursued her for a relationship out of the Theatre?”



“Yes.” He whispered.



“Lucius, I am no legal expert; but Miss Granger – despite not entering a university of magical law – is an expert… But I can think of six charges that could be brought against you for this!”



“I realise that now – I just stopped thinking and just acted.” Lucius said by way of explanation.



“That is not an excuse! The Minister wants her to be his deputy Minister – and is trying to clear her name so she can use her mind for something good! Shacklebolt will have you kissed before you can say Quidditch!”



“Fuck.”



“Definitely… I think you should give yourself up, contact the Minister and Potter, and go quietly.” Severus said.



“Slytherins don’t give up.” Lucius whispered.



“Yeah, well, that would be fine if the Minister of Magic wasn’t going to have your head on a platter for this.” Severus said, grabbing his crutches and moving to the fireplace to floo Potter and the Minister.



“I’ve blown it, haven’t I?” Lucius said.



“That’s an understatement, old friend. A grave understatement.”