A Thief to Catch a Thief; a Death Eater to Catch a

Bubbles and Cuddles.



Hermione returned to Malfoy Manor at six o’clock; she’d gone home from work, showered and come to check on Lucius, as promised.



“Hey.” She whispered to Maggie, who sat adding tassels to the end of a lilac and purple striped scarf.



“Evening dear.” Maggie whispered back, getting to the end of the row before she looked at Hermione, “He’s been sleeping most of the day, but he’s eaten a little bit… I’m so worried that he’s so hot!”



“That’s one of the main dangers with flu – overheating.” Hermione said, noticing that Lucius was starting to come around from his healing sleep.



“Well, Mischief, I’ll leave you in this lovely young lady’s hands for the night – I’ll see you in the morning.”



“Night night, Magga, sleep well.” Lucius said, remembering the phrase well from his childhood.



“Sleep tight, Mischief.” Maggie said, gently kissing Lucius on both temples before giving him a peck on the tip of his nose. Slowly she bustled out of the room, almost closing the door behind her before she remembered: “His next medicine is at half-past-eight.” After Hermione nodded in acknowledgement, the nanny closed the door.



“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked gently, stroking Lucius’s limp hair out of his face, noticing it slick with cooling sweat, even as he shivered.



“Like the aftermath of six or seven crucios.” He replied hoarsely, eyes drifting closed as his head continued to throb.



Hermione sighed, continuing to rake her fingers through his tangled tresses, evidently Lucius’s sleep hadn’t been peaceful in the least – even with Maggie close by. Hermione walked into the bathroom, drawing the bath. Lucius couldn’t stay in the same sweaty pyjamas and sheets constantly, and a bath might pick him up a little bit. Coming back to his bedside and rummaging in her pocket she produced a shrunk jar of vapour-rub and placed it on the nightstand.



“Come on, lets get you into the bath.” As she began to help Lucius undress and walk to the other side of the room. Lucius was as weak as a newborn deer, and stumbled in a five minute walk that would normally last thirty seconds. Muggle Influenza was dangerous to muggles, but to a wizard that had never encountered it until now, it was devastating.



“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so wretched – and that’s saying something.” He moaned as he finally sank into the soothing waters of the bath. Hermione slipped off her own clothing and climbed in behind him, encouraging him to lean back against her chest.



“I know how horrid this is – I was incredibly ill; it was just after the final battle, emotional stress, physical stress and malnutrition proved to be the perfect opening for flu. But it gets better, but I’ll warn you, it gets worse before it improves, you’re a day into a fortnight of nasty.” She said calmly, there was no point sugar-coating things with Lucius, he preferred being told straight.



“One down, thirteen to go.” Lucius whispered, using this opportunity to snuggle into Hermione’s embrace.



“Sit up for me.” She said, kneeling and reaching for Lucius’s shampoo, noting that it was ‘infantia mollis’, which translated from Latin to ‘baby soft’. Lucius Malfoy, ex Death Eater, powerful Auror, head of the pureblood dynasty and undisputed Lord of the Manor used baby shampoo… wonders never ceased.



Slowly Hermione began to massage the lilac solution into Lucius’s hair, making sure to take away a day of bad dreams and sweat from him in the process.



“That feels nice.” He said, sighing and cuddling further into her ministrations – it was years since someone had washed his hair for him, his barber normally just spraying his hair when he had it trimmed. Thinking hard, Lucius realised this was the first time he’d shared a bath with someone.



“Close your eyes.” Hermione said, tipping a ceramic jug of clean water over his sudsy hair, letting the bubbles froth over his shoulders. Lucius’s colour (if it could be called that) was returning slightly, and the veins at his temples were no-longer visible. He groaned softly as she ran a comb through his hair before re-settling him back against her chest. Risking a peak down, she noticed Lucius was quite soft and his breathing as normal as possible through the wheezing.



“Come on, out of the bath and into a towel, I have another muggle ‘medicine’ for you – it should help you sleep easier.” Hermione helped him stand and step from the bath, wrapping him in the fluffiest towel she had ever felt, he sat down on the closed lavatory lid and began the exhausting task of getting dry. It wasn’t worth risking using magic when you were so sick – it tended to rebel your will.



Hermione returned to the bedroom, noticing the sheets and quilt had been changed, and a clean pair of nightwear were ready and waiting at the end of the bed. Hermione made a mental note to thank the house elves for their thoughtfulness. Picking up the soft, dark blue cotton pyjamas, she returned to the bath room to find Lucius brushing his teeth, leaning heavily on the sink as he did so.



“I’ll leave these her for you – do you want any help dressing?” she asked, then realised his hair was still wet and cast a gentle drying charm over it.



“No – I’ll manage.” He said, motioning for her to leave. Hermione closed the bathroom door behind her reaching into her cape for her MP3 player and the ‘tracks’ she’d just recently installed on it – it would be something new and relaxing for Lucius.



Within a few minutes, the toilet flushed and a wobbly Lucius emerged and staggered back to bed, moaning in approval as his sore and protesting muscles hit the mattress.



“Here, you’ll like this.” Hermione said, enlarging the earphones into speakers and pressing play. “Muggles also have things called audio books – a book is read out and recorded so people can listen. This is one of my all time favourites – The Lord of the Rings. With you being ill, it should last about ten days before it finishes – and you don’t have to put in the effort to read the book with tired eyes and a headache.”



“A genius idea – it’s a long time since I read for pleasure – I don’t have much energy to do so now I am an auror.” Lucius said, shuffling over to allow Hermione to join him on the large bed.



“I know, me neither. I spend my days off curled up on my sofa with a good book.” Hermione said.



“And your nights off curled up here.” Lucius replied, the smooth delivery ruined by a harsh coughing fit. He curled onto his side gasping for breath; Hermione, recognising his distress, pulled his head into her lap and stroked his back.



“Shh… listen to the words – I think you’ll like this trilogy.” She said, pressing play and getting comfortable.



“You know – I think you’re the first person to cuddle me when I’m ill.” Lucius said, breathing much easier after she applied the vapour rub to his chest during chapter two.



“I wouldn’t not cuddle you when you’re sick – touch is a comforting thing, and right now, you need comfort.



“Thank-you.” He sighed, closing his eyes and imagining the places the words described.



Two hours later, he drifted off to sleep after drinking down more paracetamol, his head now on Hermione’s stomach, her clothed in a pair of his too big nightclothes. It was the first night they’d slept together, and she was right, he did need the comfort of touch; as did she.