A Gift for a Lotus

Cht. 2

Hermione Granger jogged to catch up to the apparently enamoured pair, having stopped to scoop up the forgotten parcel with the box lid and place it ever so carefully back into the velvet lined box. Lucius’ long strides ate up the pavement even as Mei Lien chattered merrily at him from her perch on his shoulders. She stopped talking every so often to swat at the shop signs as they passed, each tap punctuated by an all too masculine chuckle from Malfoy. Hermione thought distractedly that she’d never once heard the man laugh, yet here he was bouncing her little girl over the cobblestone walk amid the frank stares of passers by. They too, it seemed, had never seen the ex-Death Eater having such fun.

Finally, upon reaching their destination, Lucius swung the little girl down and sat her on the counter as he ordered, neither of them taking notice of the attendant who looked aghast at the pair of them. As Hermione approached, Mei Lien tugged on Lucius’ lapel and asked if she could have hers with whipped cream and cherry on top.

“Oh but of course, you must,” Hermione heard him say. He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “especially with chocolate sprinkles. They‘re the best.”

Mei Lien giggled and Hermione cleared her throat. “Oh there you are, Miss Granger,” he said, straightening up and looking round at her. “Where have you been?”

“You, erm, dropped this,” she answered, holding the box out. “I didn‘t touch it… obviously,” she finished lamely.

“It wouldn‘t matter if you had,” he replied dryly earning a scowl from Hermione, who bit back a retort. Better to ignore it than create a scene in front of Mei Lien, she thought.

“Can I see what‘s in the box?” Mei Lien piped up.

“No!” was Hermione’s shocked reply, even as Lucius opened the box and offered it for the child’s perusal. Lucius merely quirked a brow at her mother and scowled darkly.

“Any hexes have been removed, Miss Granger. I assure you it is quite safe--which is what I meant, by the way.”

“Oh,” she replied, feeling discomfited. She was saved by the attendant appearing with their chocolates and spent the next moment studiously ignoring their benefactor whilst tucking a napkin into Mei Lien’s collar and draping one over her lap. “Can‘t be too careful,” she said, dabbing a spot of whipped cream on Mei Lien’s nose and kissing it. Remembering Mr. Malfoy, she looked up to see an almost wistful look that was quickly erased.

She dropped into the chair next to Mei Lien and sat back to surreptitiously study the man who was watching her little girl lapping at the edge of the cup as the melting cream dripped down the sides.

“So what is it that brings you out and about today, Hermione? I may call you that, mayn‘t I?” he said, turning to survey her as closely as she had him. On meeting his direct gaze, Hermione dropped her eyes.

“Sure, that‘s fine, erm…Lucius.” His given name felt strange on her tongue and somehow forbidden. “We were just--”

“Mum‘s looking for a job!” Mei Lien interjected. “A new one, where they appricate--apparat…”

“Appreciate her?” queried an amused Lucius.

“Yes, you got it!” she smiled. “They let her go, her last job. Shame on them, so now we have to move.”

“Shame on them indeed,” smiled Mr. Malfoy as he glanced across the table to Mei Lien‘s mother who sat flushing, clearly flustered.

Hermione sat, silently steaming at the mockery and cursing him with every name she could think…in her head. How dare he, she thought. Likely as not, he had never worked a day in his life.

No sooner had she begun it, but Malfoy cut into her fantasy of clawing out his eyes. “You know, you may be just the person I need.”

“Sorry?” she managed. Need her? Was he joking, she wondered. It was hard to say with him, and he seemed to be taking utter amusement in seeing her so clearly wrong footed.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling broadly. “I have a matter of some urgency. There are many things I own which require expertise such as yours.”

“My expertise?”

“Certainly you have in recent years proven yourself in the arena of hex-breaking, handling dark objects,” he said, gesturing to the box on the table. “And moreover, you are Muggleborn, which in itself makes dark objects of a certain kind…react, shall we say, to you.”

“I don‘t quite follow.”

“The current political climate frowns upon old families hanging onto certain heirlooms and artefacts which contain anti-Muggle charms and dark enchantments. Many such old families wanting to hang onto their valuables find themselves in a quandary. They want to hang onto such items, yet to do so at this time is illegal. Likewise it is illegal to sell them--with possible exception of selling to museums and the like, so a market for one such as yourself has been opened. By removing the old hexes and traps, the families will be at leisure to do what they will with them. Either keep them for sentimental or historical value or sell to the highest bidder.”

“And what do you own that is imbued with such hexes and traps?”

“My home.”

“Your…” Hermione trailed off, thinking of the salon where she had been detained in his “home” and shuddered in spite of herself. Seeing her reaction, he broke into her thoughts.

“I have had some success, with the sitting room in particular, but I confess myself more capable of casting such spells than of removing them,” he said, looking honestly chagrined. “Never mind the fact that it is quite a large home.”

“You have a big house?” Mei Lien cut in. “Do you have horses?”

“Horses?” Lucius smiled, “I have a stable on the grounds that breeds Abraxans. They‘re humongous. You should see them.”

“Oh Mum, can we? Take the job, please!”

“Mei Lien, really!” she cried, thoroughly exasperated at Lucius’ manipulation of the little girl. “And what of her safety? With such dark objects and enchantments on the grounds, how could you vouch for her remaining unharmed?”

“Is she pureblood?” he asked, earning a raised brow in return.

“Yes, in fact, she is,” replied Hermione tersely. “In China it is not their blood status that is frowned upon, but their gender. Her family did not want her because she was a girl,” she finished sotto voce.

“Ever the champion for the underdog,” Malfoy replied in kind, an amused gleam in his eye as he crossed his arms on the table and leaned in. “In either case, she will be no more in danger than Draco was at that age. She‘ll be told, of course, what she may touch and what not. She seems to be a well-mannered child who listened to what she‘s told. If she is not in my company or yours, she will simply be required to stay in your rooms or Draco‘s old playroom.”

“Playroom?!” Mei Lien cried, tuning in again.

“Our rooms?” Hermione asked, focusing on the other bit of information.

“Yes, there is a small flat of sorts on the grounds, separate from my living quarters of course.” It stung slightly to see that this news comforted her a bit. “I would be willing to offer you a small stipend, say twelve thousand galleons, in addition to the room and board. It would be a more than fair price for the job at hand.”

It did sound reasonable, Hermione considered. The sum was slightly less than she had made in a year’s time at her last job, conducting research at St. Mungo’s before her grant had expired. Without having to pay to let, she could bulk up her savings again and live comfortably besides. Still, because it was Malfoy she wondered what the catch was.

“There‘s nothing suspect, Hermione,” he said somewhat bracingly. “Though I must warn you that the dungeons are off limits to you and the child.” The fact that he said this with none of the chill she was used to from him helped her make up her mind.

“Very well, I‘ll do it.”

“Yay!” squealed an excited Mei Lien.

“Yes, you,” Lucius chuckled, his eyes dancing. “I suppose I shall have to ready your rooms then. What do you say to that?”

“Oh boy! I can‘t wait. Can we go now?”

“Now?” he laughed. “It will take some time to prepare. Lots of things need airing out a bit first.” Truly, he mused, the whole place could do with a Scourgify, but he realized sagely that was now her department.

“We have things to do in our flat besides,” said Hermione, completely confounded at how Lucius had won her little girl’s heart. “We‘ll have packing to do, of course, and our lease is until the end of the week.”

“There then, pet, how about Sunday next?” Lucius supplied, tugging a pigtail teasingly before looking over at Hermione for confirmation.

“Sunday‘s fine, yes.”

“Very well, I‘ll see you then.” With that, he rose and offered a hand. She took it to shake but then, purely on instinct, Lucius drew it to his mouth and brushed his lips across it. Hermione’s breath caught slightly, shocked, before he released it. A corner of his mouth quirked as though he had just surprised even himself and just as quickly his face was again a mask of conciliatory politeness. He nodded once, turned onto the cobblestone walk, and disapparated, leaving Hermione rubbing her hand and wondering what exactly she had done.