Daughter of Leda

It didn’t take long for Hermione to finish explaining to Lucius just what she had in mind. About halfway through the explanation he developed the sort of patient grin that she would have expected him to use on a child, but she completely ignored it.

“What do you think?” she asked him finally.

“I’m surprised,” he said, taking a moment before he continued. “I am perfectly willing to help you, but I never really expected you to pursue something like this. Divination, perhaps, but what you are studying is considered dark magic by most wizards and you always seemed against dark magic.”

Hermione smiled and shrugged slightly. “I’ve had plenty of time to consider some of Leda’s words, and I think I have her letters memorized. She warned me not to make the mistake of assuming everything dark to be inherently evil. That there are times for both light and dark magics and that it is your intent, not method, that is of the greatest importance. When I first read the letter, I thought she was just making excuses for it, but now I’ve begun to understand. She was right.”

“She had a better view on it than most dark wizards, then,” said Lucius. “Her words are true, but the sort of truth that most people never realize. Because of the stigmas attached, there are very few who pursue dark magic without having dark intent. To me honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever had good intent when using it either. I think sometimes you are a good influence on me, Hermione, but that doesn’t change who I am and what I’ve done in the past. I’ve never been one to feel ashamed, but a part of me is because I hate knowing that while I’m out there doing my nefarious deeds, you are fully aware of it.”

“I prefer not to think about it. Yes, I know the sort of things you do, but I think in the back of my mind I’m still pretending it’s not true. I’m very well aware of the fact that I could force you through the Vow to change loyalties,” she said with a grimace, “but I’m not willing to do it. Without it being of your own free will it matters little to me.”

Lucius smiled slightly, but in his eyes he seemed almost lost in thought. “Let’s do as you wanted, Hermione, and look into the fire. There will be time enough to discuss my soul later, even if there is no saving it.”

Hermione wasn’t thrilled about Lucius’ wording, but she left it alone. Something about his mood had altered, and she doubted any good would come of pushing it. Besides, she was nothing if not practical, and she knew that the chances of Lucius Malfoy changing his ways were rather minimal. So she lazily used her wand to accio a couple candles and lit them on a table beside her bed. A little shifting around later and she found herself relaxing against Lucius with the candles straight in front of her.

“Don’t just look at them and try to find shapes,” Lucius said softly. “Relax first. Clear your mind before you ever turn it to the fire.”

She chose not to ask him how exactly he was familiar with fire scrying, but it piqued her interest nonetheless. Clearing her mind was something she wasn’t used to doing, and it took several minutes before she felt that she had done a half decent job of it. Hermione felt strangely relaxed, as though every part of her body had gone limp. Allowing herself to then look at the flames, it seemed as though her subconscious was beginning to guide her actions. She looked not at them, but passed them, not really focusing on anything in particular. She felt disconnected, and yet in tune with everything around her.

When she stopped looking for images, then images began to appear. Hermione wasn’t sure if they were in her mind or in the flames themselves, but she knew they were important. The images were mostly blurry and changed frequently, giving her scarcely enough time to study one before seeing the next. Words came unbidden to her mind, answering questions she hadn’t known she had. Finally, after some time of it, the images ceased and Hermione was left with a peaceful emptiness.

“Anything interesting?” Lucius prompted, though he was certain there must be quite a few things of interest she had seen. While he held her he had felt the changes in pulse, how her breathing went from steady to erratic, and the random stiffening of her body. He wouldn’t press her for every detail, though, because he understood that not all in divination could be taken at face value or understood immediately.

“Many things,” she said, “though I can’t seem to recall all of it and don’t know what to make of the rest. There is very little I feel certain of, but I’m glad I tried it. I think that with time I might yet make a Diviner, and I think that would have made Leda proud. Even if I never become so skilled as she.”

It wasn’t a matter of what she did or didn’t learn through the scrying, but how it left her feeling. There was a feeling of power, to be sure, but Hermione felt more peaceful than anything. The part of her that had been stressing out about how the war might go was temporarily soothed, as was that part of her that held certain feelings for Lucius. What those feelings were she wasn’t ready to think about, but she didn’t feel the need to worry about it for the time being. She would do as she must, learn what she could, and hopefully whatever horrors Leda had seen would be avoided.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Lucius returned to the Death Eater’s camp with strengthened resolve. Gone was the man who cared for nothing but power, ignoring what fate such actions might have in store for him and his family. That cold, power-hungry part of him had barely been holding on recently, but watching Hermione’s scrying and the beautiful, peaceful expression on her face had broken it finally. He wanted that serenity for himself, and for his son.

Ideally, the situation was with Hermione by his side, and Narcissa pursuing her own happiness elsewhere, but Lucius was a realistic man. The women in his life he couldn’t do anything about, but he could do what he could to get himself and Draco out of this mess.

It was with this in mind that he went in search of the one man he could think of that might help him. It was a risk to test his theory, to see if his intuition would prove correct, but there was only one person who would understand his desire to change. It wasn’t like he could just walk right up to the Order’s headquarters and offer his aid – he’d be killed on sight. And he refused to drag Hermione into it. No, it was better this way.

Severus Snape was easily found in his lab at Hogwarts. It was what he did, when he wasn’t reading, to make use of his time. To say that Severus Snape was a man in need of a different hobby would be an understatement, although Lucius had secretly thought for some time that the hobby Severus needed was in fact a wife. Regardless, his bachelor status worked out well when Lucius needed something.

“To what do I owe this visit, Lucius?” asked Severus, still bent over his cauldron, stirring in the mixture steadily.

Lucius grinned slightly. He should have known Severus’ wards would identify any visitor; the man was too obsessed with developing new potions or spells. “I need to ask you something important, Severus. Is there any chance we can be heard?”

“No,” was Severus’ short response. The stirring continued.

“I need you do help me join the Order. I want to get Draco and I out of this.”

The stirring stopped. Severus muttered a quick stasis charm under his breath and turned to face Lucius. “Is that so?” he asked in his customary drawl. “You seem terribly certain of my true affiliation being with the Order. How do you know I won’t go straight to the Dark Lord with this?”