The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

___________________________________


9-4-09 F


Yes, we've arrived at the place where Hermione starts to learn about the plan that Severus and Lucius have put together. Finally.


Here are my comments on your comments...for your reading pleasure:

Rini – I’ve read stories where Ron has a teeny weeny and ones where he’s dragging on the floor. Ron got the short end of his stick in this tale - snicker. Are you sure your desk is big enough for a life-size paperweight of Lucius’ wondrous weeny? LOL.

Liagiba84 – Scary TOLD you that Lucius had tied me up and that’s why I posted a little late? That’s the last time I invite her over for Remus Lupin Night at the Manor. She can shag that shaggy mop on her own time. Hear that, Scary? I don’t care if your bear claws get stuck in Lupin’s ratty cardigan, you’re on your own. Anyway, Liagiba, I’m thrilled you liked the lemons.

Third Angel – At this point I’m not sure Severus wants Hermione to learn all of the truth. It is Lucius’ right to tell her – later. I love to match those two against each other. They’re both very strong-willed and it makes for great scenes.

BeaBibliophile – How does one sort out that one’s wife thinks one is a vicious, murdering racist? The ‘bitterness and conflict’ will give way slowly, but surely. I promise. And thanks for the numbing cream – it was a major relief. Thank you also for the compliments on the lemons. Lemons just flow off the keyboard. I delivered your message to Hermione to stop moping. I was shocked at her response and won’t describe the action, but she said ‘swivel’. I’ll bet you’re more sympathetic to Lucius right about now. 8-)

jw – Lucius may have other sources of anxiety, but his sexual ability isn’t one of them. And contraceptive issues are discussed later, yes. Some of the plan is about to be imparted to our curly-headed know-it-all.

Angeles – I wish I could add the pics onto this site, but my LiveJournal site is the best I could do. I really like visuals. Glad you liked the smut!

Sirsevchick – I have a LOT more to tell and, perhaps wrongly, I didn’t want to rush any rapport between Lucius and Hermione. Things will slowly get better and I’m happy you’re okay with that. Much appreciated. You’re right, mindless coupling doesn’t bring nearly as much to a plot as a more complex one does.

Lilbitbord – Now you’ve done it. Lucius has emptied out his leather collection and he’s on his way. It will take Hermione some time to learn her own nature. Good thing Lucius has no qualms about showing her the way. You’re right, trust isn’t established between them yet.

Rini – Well, hi again. Yup another chapter. Could you stay in focused eye contact with Lucius for long? I don’t think I could (I know my eyes would drop to check out the rest of him). Hermione has a horrible history with Lucius so her trust is minimal to nonexistent. Part of the plan is coming up now.

Abbeysmum – Lucius is going to be not just talking to Hermione’s body, he’s going to be delivering the sermon on the mound. So to speak. Lucius returned looking a little ragged. What did you two do together? (covers ears – lalalala, I don’t want to know)

Snapes_Goddess – My thought is that Hermione would have to be much more vituperative before Lucius would give up the idea of sex. He’s been deprived for a while. She should watch out as he gets more satisfied, though, I imagine. I think Hermione doesn’t like herself much either, with her behavior, but she doesn’t know how else to defend herself from the charismatic man making her want him while she still dislikes him.

HarryGinny4eva – You DID order one half-naked Lucius with the chain package, but he doesn’t come that way (OMG, that pun was not meant, honest). It will have to be completely naked Lucius with chain or Lucius in the leggings with no chain. So you either get to undress him or lead him on the chain. Choose.

Serin Blackmoon – Lucius certainly likes his toys, but he doesn’t have any particular credo about it. I’m so glad you’re enjoying this fic!

Alecto – I’m happy to be of service. Lucius wants to know if there is room for two to flop down on your bed and relax (although what he calls relaxing may give you some muscle spasms here and there).

Scary Bear Hair – Kinky R Us, Scary. Lucius may not overtly see the chain as trying to tie her to him mentally, but you’re right, that wouldn’t work anyway if she has no feeling for him. He’ll get there, though it would move faster if he kept the sheets warm 24/7. Unfortunately he has other problems. Hermione is fighting the tidal pull of Lucius’ physical attributes, not being very experienced. A mental connection will take longer.

blue artemis – I think what you said about Hermione equating liking sex with Lucius as evil of her, is because she thinks his past as a Death Eater should negate any arousal. What does that say about her? I’d be terribly conflicted if I found I liked sex with someone evil, if I had a conscience and was aware of what horrible things he’d done. Think of a really bad person, imagine he got you hot and knew how to make you crazy. Where would your mind be? On his deeds or on his trouser fly? Humans are complex and Hermione is also still naïve about sexual variety. She’s running confused and that alone is anathema to her. All in all, Lucius seems to be more interested than Hermione at this point.


And now, why the plan.


___________________________________

Chapter Fourteen


Reasons for the Plan

At dinner that evening, Hermione wore one of the new dresses that Madam Malkin’s shop had sent over just that day, no thanks to her. Her stonewalling of Madam’s assistant with fashion disaster decisions had the couturier up in arms. She felt bad now and admitted that having money for nice, tailor-made clothing had its attractions as she surreptitiously petted the slinky silk fabric of her long, narrow gown over her hip. The short sleeves fluttered as she walked, being made of floaty chiffon in a matching color, a medium lavender with a woven-in silver thread. The color brought out the pretty roses in her cheeks and the design didn’t overwhelm her petite size.

She was thankful that the décolletage wasn’t so low that she felt exposed; instead it lovingly, but tastefully followed the line of her bust, and the matching lingerie was a luxury she’d never had. She had been chagrined to discover, from the irate assistant who delivered the wardrobe, that Lucius had been conscripted into selecting the beautiful wardrobe himself to appease the upset dressmaker, choosing all the patterns and fabrics when Madam Malkin had refused to make Hermione’s purposely horrible choices.

An embarrassed Hermione had sent an owl with an abject apology to the dressmaker, making clear it was she who was at fault in not wanting Lucius to pay for her clothing and that she understood now it was quite normal for his clique and the misunderstanding between her and her husband was resolved. Hermione expected Lucius to berate her for embarrassing him with the couturier, but he’d never said a word. It only made her feel worse that she’d drawn an outsider into their internal marital problems.

She still thought the idea of dressing for dinner was too posh for her, but had to admit that seeing Lucius stroll into the dining room every evening in one of his his black, formal evening suits was very easy on the eyes. His blond coloring, tall, slim, wide-shouldered physique, and crisp white shirt all added up to a fluttering heartbeat and slightly damp knickers. The sensuality of his appearance faintly distressed her even as it lured; she shouldn’t be attracted to such an intrinsically tainted man. The family wasn’t known for their saintly behavior - they had more twists to their natures than Snape had potions recipes; it was patently unfair that her husband was blessed with angelic looks to camouflage his treacherous soul. He was turning her normally tightly organized mind into a morass of uncertainty and faint longing for something just out of reach, but what?

She had taken extra pains with her toilette, wanting to appear to more advantage after her recent chastisement. The almost primal need to present herself at her best was a bit shocking and it puzzled her, especially wanting to wear one of the creations he’d designed for her after she’d spoiled the opportunity to design her own, but her gut instinct prodded her and she listened; she needed to look her finest. She was thankful that the new dresses had been delivered in time for this particular meal.

Hermione tried mightily to gather a righteous attitude around her like a mantle of morality to protect her from the blond wizard’s suspected Death Eater depravities and to ground her own wayward urges. She told herself the wardrobe issue likely had more to do with his concern for his wealthy image than any gift for her. It was increasingly nerve-wracking waiting for him to revert to his immoral self, certain he merely donned a public mask of civility for some nefarious purpose she had yet to understand. She could feel something unsaid, something waiting, restive and tense, in this odd marriage, that she was not privy to – yet.

In the meantime, her husband was selfishly making use of her body for his pleasure. Hermione’s mind flinched a bit at that – she’d been getting some pleasure out of his attentions and would rather not examine that too closely, but she was certain it was just coincidental as he used her for sex. A blush rose and engulfed her cheeks. The ancient art of lying to oneself was one she had never mastered to any great extent and she wasn’t very successful with these latest attempts.

Lucius, sitting at their normal right angles to each other at the end of the long table and blissfully unaware of his wife’s assessment of his diabolical, self-serving iniquity in bed, was enchanted with the way Hermione looked. Her big brown eyes had trouble meeting his and she blushed as he sat down after pushing her chair in for her; he supposed she was shy after the spanking and the sexual intimacies of the night before.

He on the other hand was a very happy man. He had found the witch who could stand up to his strong personality and who gave as good as she got in bed; his nipples still throbbed faintly. Lucius relaxed back in his chair smiling at the lovely young witch; it only remained for her to understand her own nature, who was master in their home, if not necessarily always in their bed, and that adventurous sex was fun, not degrading.

On the strength of what he optimistically if erroneously viewed as their new closeness, Lucius decided it was time to introduce one of the reasons for their marriage that he hadn’t enumerated for her yet. He let them enjoy the dinner before initiating any conversation other than the most banal.

“Hermione,” he began, once the main meal was finished and they were dallying with their desserts, “I want to explain something important and let you know what I – that is, Snape and I – have decided needs to be done."

Hermione, who initially worried that Lucius was going to bring up her departure from sanity the night before when she had wantonly scratched him or her behavior with the couturier, breathed a sigh of relief. It couldn’t be her behavior if Snape was involved. She nodded and waited, leaning in as she surreptitiously inhaled a hint of his piney cologne.

Lucius’ expression was watchful as he saw Hermione perk up at the former potion master’s name. He frowned, but put that item aside as he spoke, “Severus came to me a few months ago with some rather strange, but very unsettling suspicions. He asked me to investigate and he had an idea of how I should proceed.”

“And you turned him down, I assume. Unless it involved your status or your money.” Hermione was miffed at herself for leaning in toward the handsome wizard and tried to cover it with a cutting remark.

Lucius’ brows drew together, distracted by the rude comment, “Did I do something to merit that implied slur?”

Hermione sucked in a startled breath. It seemed very odd - now that she could think more clearly in hindsight – he DID have all the money in the world. What could make him kowtow to those inflated blowhards at the Ministry and pay them that exorbitant fee of a hundred thousand Galleons for the wedding contract? He could probably buy the entire edifice and blow it up if he wanted.

So something else was going on that she wasn’t privy to. Something involving Snape. That figured. Those two were as thick as…as Death Eaters. Maybe there was a Retired Death Eater Veterans Club with a secret handshake and passwords. Hermione giggled.

“What I am trying to tell you, between numerous interruptions, is not at all funny, I assure you.” Lucius raised his chin, the barometer of his uneasiness to Hermione.

“I was thinking about what you said,” she answered. “If the Ministry gits don’t think of me as important then they let that Latin clause go through to target you, not me. Saddling you with a Muggleborn wife and possible Halfblood children forever would have appealed to that crowd of low-level, petty bureaucrats. But I’m thinking it didn’t have to succeed. You have great power with your wealth. I do wonder why you let the contract bind us when you didn’t have to.”

Lucius’ eyes gleamed, “You’re intelligent, I’ll give you that.”

Hermione gazed limpidly at him, but her saccharine smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Go on,” Hermione waved her hand regally, “I’m listening. You’re to investigate something.”

“As it happens it does involve my money, but I would have helped Severus in any case. And while the Ministry “gits” as you call them were cackling about doing me an ill turn while taking my money in exchange for tying me to a Muggleborn wife, I wanted them looking in that direction rather than wondering why this marriage was important to Severus and me. All they saw when I took the contract and paid for that added clause was my social downturn. It did have the necessary detail of me keeping any of our children, of course. However, I had other reasons for our marriage.”

Hermione raised a cynical eyebrow but said nothing. Lucius plowed on, “Normally I spend a great deal of time tied up in my financial dealings, but Severus’ concerns coalesced with some misgivings I had also experienced.

"Plus,” Lucius grimaced, “Severus reminded me of some,” now the blond wizard cleared his throat, “youthful, um, peccadilloes that swung my interest into helping him. I saved Severus’ life at the battle, and he saved my family and me from Azkaban. You’d think we were even. Sadly, he came into this knowledge I would prefer not to become generally known and added it as a slight inducement.”

Hermione snickered, “He’s blackmailing you? Oh, I do like that. Was it Narcissa who told him about these pesky peccadilloes of yours?”

Lucius sourly rejoined, “How he got the information isn’t important.” The soigné sorcerer shot Hermione a look daring her to say anything more on that topic. He waved her question away with a flick of his manicured fingers. “And it’s not blackmail…precisely. I prefer to think he’s merely appealing to my better nature.”

“But you haven’t one,” Hermione pointed out bluntly.

“Yes, well, that’s what I thought, also,” Lucius readily agreed, effectively parrying Hermione’s jab. “It seems I may have miscalculated and I still have a smidgen of better nature lurking about. It’s very lowering. We Malfoys generally try to stamp out that irritating emotion very early before it can gain a foothold in our hearts. It tends to negatively affect our wallets and paths to power, you see.” Lucius’ mood rose and he began to have a good time neutralizing her insults and baiting his wife in return.

Lucius’ humor disconcerted the little witch and she tried to get their adversarial relationship back on track. “I thought you and Severus were close friends. Did his marriage to your ex-wife ruin that?”

“You really mean, why am I not incensed that Severus is using some underhanded persuasion to get me to help him?” Lucius smiled, “My dear, he and I both know I would do exactly the same thing to him, were it I with the problem. No, I don’t hold a grudge for his methods – or for marrying Narcissa, by the way. It’s the bleeding hearts of the world I find incomprehensible – and stupid. But that’s neither here nor there.” He heard a muffled snort, but went on as though Hermione hadn’t made the disrespectful sound.



“I’ve only told you why I’m helping Severus so that you understand my motivation. I wouldn’t want you to think I’ve become a bleeding heart.” Lucius’ narrowed eyes and raised chin told her what he thought of that label.

Hermione blinked at him for offering this personal detail. He would rather that she knew he was being blackmailed than have her think he was suffering from a case of altruistic philanthropy. Well, that sounded like the Lucius Malfoy she’d known for years. Hermione leaned her chin on her hand and gazed serenely at her mate.

Her faint, unconcerned smile annoyed him and he poked at her, “Unfortunately, when you learn what I have been asked so nicely to do, I don’t think you are going to find it as entertaining as Snape pulling a few of my strings with some minor blackmail.”

Hermione had actually been amused by Lucius’ raised chin mannerism, which she was starting to think of as just a foible of his, designed to hide his uneasiness and depress unwanted questions rather than a censure particularly aimed her way, but when it sounded like she was involved in his scheme she frowned instantly. “What is that precisely?”

Lucius congratulated himself on garnering her attention, which had seemed to float away briefly. He nodded at the little witch in approval, “Severus and I have been feeling the effects of an unpleasant attitude which we both think is becoming more and more pervasive, but we don’t know why. For the past year or so, we’ve both noticed in our various ways, that Purebloods, especially the wealthy ones, are being slowly, silently squeezed out of the fabric of the wizarding world’s business and social spheres. In Severus’ case, he thinks it’s indirect and mainly because of his marriage to Narcissa, a Pureblood. He also sees it in various Ministry activities tied to Hogwarts. It’s not anything we can pinpoint. We can’t point our fingers at so-and-so and say, “You! Stop persecuting us.”

Lucius shrugged, “But it’s definitely starting to snowball, although unevenly. My construction crews, strangely, give me the least trouble. We have our usual disagreements over wages and benefits, but they don’t seem to be anywhere near as antagonistic as the damned parchment pushers at the Ministry have become. Plus, nearly all my private investor headaches are based in this country. My foreign investors seem unaffected. While I realize you might not see what’s so wrong with a world free of Pureblood influence, I think that view would be terribly shortsighted.”

“On the contrary, I don’t think that at all,” Hermione replied, surprising her mate. “I’m not so shortsighted that I don’t understand our world needs those whose activities are aimed at building empires or promoting grand events or just worshiping the elegancies of life. I can’t see a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw or especially a Gryffindor worrying about which fork to use, not to the degree it’s important to you. But I suppose without Purebloods, which I equate largely with the Slytherin psyche, some of our long-held traditions would be lost - our dressing for dinner, going to the opera and other prestigious events in tuxedoes and also financing those operas as a display of wealth and social status.” She saw an expression of distaste briefly surface on Lucius’ face, then it was gone. Didn’t he like the opera, then? Odd.

She ignored it and continued, “The rest of us would probably be just as happy to listen to a casual musical session in a park or play cards at friends’ homes. We probably don’t even own tuxedoes as a rule. Slytherins and Purebloods have their uses in our world, just as all the other Houses do, not that you Slytherins see the rest of us as much more than targets or marks for your grandiose plans.”



“I didn’t know you saw us as so valuable a group to wizarding society. Am I correct that in your listing of Pureblood pomposity, there was a compliment trying to break free? Perhaps somewhere among the extra forks and the grandiose plans?” Lucius’ slitted eyes and cold expression belied his soft-spoken words, but Hermione forged on, heedless.

“I can’t be terribly upset that the Slytherin–slash-Pureblood segment is finding it harder to twist all the rest of us into your Machiavellian designs,” she said, “but if there is something going on that truly upsets the balance of thousands of years of our world, then it needs to be investigated. Do you know if the non-Slytherin Purebloods are also affected?”

Lucius shrugged, “No, I’m not well enough acquainted with the Weasleys of our world to ask them. It’s not the point, anyway. If Purebloods are being attacked, we need to find out how and why.”

“So what is it that Snape asked you to do? Why is he involved?”

“I’ve been asked to try to discover how and why our kind is slowly being strangled politically, socially, and financially. I’ve been aware for the last year that my monetary interests have been somehow affected. I get fewer deals, I’m the loser in too many investment opportunities, I’m left out of various consortia that I would have easily been part of before. More and more, everyone I deal with who isn’t a Pureblood is suddenly reneging on deals or attempting hostile takeovers. There is something wrong. And it’s not just because of any backlash from the war.”

Hermione was becoming intrigued by the problem against her better judgment, especially as her future was now inextricably tied to this haughty Pureblood’s. If there was some danger and Snape was feeling it even as a Halfblood married to a Pureblood, she should pay attention. “Is it always the same people who exclude you? Maybe they have a personal vendetta.”

“That’s the frustrating part. I can’t find any pattern to my ostracism. Different people, different businesses, some government, some private, and it’s not only I who feel it. Other Slytherins - actually I suspect it’s the Purebloods, but it’s hard to tell precisely - are experiencing the same phenomenon. It’s almost spooky, but if it keeps up my family’s whole financial stability will crumble. I don’t want to be the Malfoy who lost everything to a chimera I can’t fight.”

“Do you have any plan at all?” Hermione gazed at the blond wizard in annoyance. If this had been going on for a while, hadn’t they formed any firm stratagems and acted on them yet?

Lucius knew very well where Severus wanted him to start but, stung at her impatient, snide attitude, he now wanted to hear her try to work out the problem.

“Where would you start, Miss Know-It-All?”

“I’d begin by not calling me names if you want help,” she snapped back. “Have you made a list of each time one of these odd occurrences happens?”

“So I can see a pattern? I could do that, I suppose.” Lucius reminded himself that she would be useful and tried to keep his temper leashed at her insinuation that he was incompetent. His brief nod encouraged her to continue.

“Then we can visit each of the places that are on your list.” Hermione started organizing a plan of action as it sounded to her like Lucius hadn’t been at all systematic in sorting his problem out. She thought he would have been more intelligent about marshaling his resources, having been so clever as a Death Eater.

She added, “I’d also like a list of the deals that DID go through. So we can compare.”

Lucius’ attention was caught by her use of the word ‘we’. He hadn’t thought it would be at all easy to sway her over to helping him and Severus with their plan, yet here she was, organizing the campaign for him. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. Was he happy to have a wife who didn’t need his instruction on everything? He had thought it would be heaven, but he’d only been thinking about the bedroom. Her take-charge attitude in this other sphere was an unforeseen wrinkle and it pinched at his ego.

Hermione had the bit between her organized teeth and she gravely considered, “Then we can see if the deals that did happen have any pattern and if there is anything strange about the deals themselves or the people who are involved in them.” Hermione went on, oblivious to Lucius’ consternation, “If we can get similar lists from other Purebloods who have experienced the same problems, it will give us more pattern possibilities to look for.” She looked more closely at the preoccupied man whose usually too-sharp eyes had glazed over and realized he was no longer listening to her. “Lucius! Where did you go just now?” she asked. “You were in a fog.”

Lucius looked rattled for just a brief moment, then his face resumed its haughty expression making Hermione wonder if she’d imagined his uncharacteristic uncertainty. In the next minute his snooty chin went up again. Hermione hid her smile that time; she didn’t want to sidetrack what he was telling her with one of his lectures on inappropriate levity.

That jutting chin was going to make her laugh sooner or later, then she’d probably be spanked again. The idea of relinquishing that brand of physical control to the wizard had a decidedly weird effect on her; giving him any power between them was beginning to be less anathema and, to her inner embarrassment, rather erotic. Almost as erotic in its own way, as this new avenue of research Lucius was opening up for her.

“We discussed role-playing briefly as a form of sexual recreation, if you remember. How would you like to role-play the part of Hogwarts Headmaster’s wife for awhile?” Lucius lifted a spoonful of fruit sorbet and carefully slid it into his mouth, savoring the flavor with a languid narrowing of his silvery eyes as it melted on his tongue, but his focus never left her face.

“What kind of kinky role-playing sex could you possibly weave about that boring scenario?” Hermione was relieved that she wasn’t being ignored as a valuable resource for Lucius’ problems; he had merely wandered into a sensual mental scenario with the two of them. She was strangely rather more flattered than alarmed or irritated.

Her heart rate always drummed an unruly cadence of agitated flutter around the admittedly charismatic wizard she had been tied to. He was starchy and snobby, but he exuded some bizarre, mysterious magnetism that was slowly but surely pulling her into his deviant sexual orbit with less and less chance of escape. Being privy to what he looked like under his traditional, formal robes and how he used what was under there was having a very negative effect on her independence.

“What kind of role-playing? Any sort of kinky sex you’d fancy,” Lucius perked up, a narrow-eyed calculation entering his frosty eyes as he was sidetracked momentarily from his purpose. “Tell me what you would like. I can even use a glamour if you want me to look different. All except that young Weasley prat.” Lucius thought a second, “Or Snape. I won’t assume either of their likenesses. But that isn’t what I meant,” he said, struggling to get back on track.

Hermione gawked at her husband. Why on earth would she want him to look like anyone else? Unless… “Did you expect me to change into someone else, too? Would you like me to look like another woman, perhaps?” Hermione suddenly had a vision of being forced to take on the façade of his ex-wife, Narcissa, as she accepted sex with Lucius. That thought made her sick.

It was Lucius’ turn to stare. “What? Of course not. I was merely offering to look like someone who didn’t give you nightmares if that would make you feel happier in bed with me. I don’t need you to look different.” Lucius waved his hand to end that interesting but less important conversation, growing impatient at the sidebar of sex they’d wandered off on. “I need to tell you about Snape’s and my ideas.” Lucius was becoming annoyed that Hermione was for some reason stuck on the idea of glamours in role-playing when he had important news to impart. She wasn’t listening to him.

Before he could redirect the conversation, though, Hermione said carefully, “I think, for now, introducing any glamours into our present sex life is premature. If you’ve done that before and you enjoy pretending to be someone else we can discuss it further into the marriage. For now, I would prefer just getting used to you as you are.” She ducked her head and addressed her own fruit sorbet and didn’t see the assessing gaze of her husband as he looked speculatively at the top of her curly head.

So, he needn’t assume a glamour. Lucius waited for her to spear him with a withering comment about his own aged looks being enough to overcome. After a few moments, when no additional words were forthcoming, a quiet, gentle smile appeared briefly in his eyes, warming them to smoke before he, too silently refocused on his sorbet. He decided to let the discussion settle for a few peaceful minutes before trying once again to tell Hermione what he and Severus had planned.

When their desserts were just a memory Lucius spoke again, “I asked if you were interested in role-playing the part of a Hogwarts Headmaster’s wife because I actually was introducing a piece of news.” Lucius drew breath and dove in, “I’ve accepted an interim appointment to serve as the Headmaster for Hogwarts, starting in a few weeks. We’ll have most of a week to settle in after we move there before school starts.” He waited for Hermione to fully grasp his momentous announcement.

“What?” she squeaked. “WE?”

“You are my wife. Naturally, you’ll accompany me. I understand the quarters for the Headmaster are, well, if not very spacious, at least quite comfortable. There are one or two items of interest I’ll need to discuss with you before we go.”

“We?” Hermione scowled. “I don’t want to go to Hogwarts for…for how long? You said interim. Just how long is interim?”

“That is part of what you and I need to discuss.” Lucius sipped from his wine. He gazed serenely at his little spouse while inside his heart sped up until he was nearly hyperventilating. He didn’t want her to hate him even more by uprooting her into yet another fear-filled place.

He had never wanted to return to Hogwarts himself; the place haunted him as he remembered his and Narcissa’s frantic search for Draco through the chaos and the fighting that night, afraid they would come upon his lifeless body. The battleground couldn’t have any good memories for his new wife either. He was just going from strength to strength with her.

“But why? Who would want you to be Headmaster? It wasn’t so long ago you were trying to raze the place. What idiot would want you in charge?”

Lucius winced, “That idiot would be Snape.”

“I don’t believe it. Oh! He’s the Head of the School Governors, isn’t he? Did you want the position of Headmaster?”

“No, and that’s another item we need to discuss. If we are finished with dessert perhaps we can go to the back terrace and sit? It’s still light out and the roses are at their best.” Lucius laid his napkin on the table and rose, moving behind Hermione’s seat and pulling it out for her.

Hermione had lost her appetite with the announcement of the unpleasant change of address. The mansion had been bad enough, but it was really only the one room that she needed to avoid to keep the horrible memories at bay; she didn’t remember much of the rest of the mansion or estate that horrible night.

Hogwarts was a whole other story. Was her mental state strong enough to withstand living at Hogwarts again? Did she ever want to revisit the scene of all the carnage where so many of her friends had died? Apparently she had no choice if the move was part of this plan the two wizards had for discovering the disruption to the Purebloods’ lives, which Lucius said was escalating. It didn’t sound good for the entire wizarding world, if so. Hermione sighed; her mental healer had been pushing her to visit the school for years. Maybe it was time.


tbc...


___________________________________
___________________________________


The plan will continue to unwind. More next chapter.

Reviews are your letters to me. I'll answer each of them. Rating link also available.

And don't miss the pics at:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/49418.html

.
.