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

A/N: hold on towards the end, it gets a bit stormy!



Diamonds and Disaster.





The Ministry Midsummer Ball was basically the planning department trying to get back into the Minister’s good graces; so far Draco had remodelled and produced seventeen new departments, the planning department had done one – their own.



The event was held in the classiest hotel in wizarding London: The Elite. Tickets were five galleons per ministry worker, ten galleons for a guest. It was an excuse for ladies to don their dress robes and look their best; as many husbands as possible tried to excuse themselves from their dress robes.



Hermione’s, Jess’s and Cressida’s dresses were one-off creations and had cost enough to feed a third world country for a week – but Lucius and Draco wouldn’t have their ladies in anything other than the best, and the best cost money.



Lucius had booked two of the three premier suites, the Minister and his wife had the third. Cressida had spent the day in the hotel pool with her Daddy, a secret way of doing her physiotherapy – her actual physio left her in pain and upset, only adding to her reluctance to do her exercises. At three in the afternoon they’d finally got her down for a nap – after five stories, that is.



Hermione lounged against Lucius in the bath that was barely smaller than the one in their suite at Malfoy Manor, he gently rubbed the jasmine and sandalwood bubbles into her skin, kissing down her throat as he did so.



“Hermione…” he said, nipping at her ear lobe.



“What are you after?” she replied, knowing that Lucius was more touchy-feely when he wanted something, usually something carnal.



“Will you wear the Malfoy diamonds tonight?” he said, trailing the backs of his fingers about her throat where they would sit.



“Which ones – there are five sets?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t referring to the rocks that would put the crown jewels to shame.



“The originals. Jess will be wearing the second set, and Cressida will wear the child ones.” He said, grinning. Cressida was a true Malfoy woman and loved all things sparkly and shiny; her adopted Mother and Jess were rather reluctant.



“Dear Merlin! I’ll be dragged down by them! They’re huge!” Hermione said, twisting in the bath to look at him. “I’ll wear them, but only because the dress is so simple, they’ll look better like that.”



Lucius returned his teeth to her earlobe, gently nipping as he reached for her hand under the bubbles.



“My love, Cressida is sleeping… and we have some time before we dress for the evening…” he whispered, slipping fingers to the apex of her thighs.



“Mmmm… and I think we’ll need to be tired out so we can also have an afternoon nap.” She sighed, turning in the water; locking and silencing the door with a flick of her hand.



***



Getting an excited four-year-old into a party dress was an exercise in patience, as Lucius discovered as he dressed his daughter. She was a bundle of energy that just wouldn’t stand still for longer than a second; not to mention that he didn’t have a clue what to do with the little white lace tights – he’d leave them for Hermione.



“Arms up.” He said gently, slipping the soft Egyptian cotton under dress over her head.



“Not pretty.” Cressida stated, looking at the simple white slip.



“You will be in a minute, princess.” Lucius said, eying the child petticoats and wondering how he was going to get her into them without a struggle of legs that didn’t behave.



“Arms up again, darling.” He said, opting for the easy method.



“They go bottom – not top.” She said, correcting him.



“They’re going on over the top today.” He said, pulling the layers of netting and fine French lave over her head and listening to her giggles as she was lost among the copious fabric. What had Madame Malkin designed?



“You’re making a hash of that!” Hermione laughed, taking the skirts back off Cressida and straightening them out, “Why aren’t her tights on?”



“Becoz he not do them.” Cressida said, not realising she’d dropped her Daddy in a little bit of trouble with Mummy.



“Hmm… I quote: ‘I’ll have her dressed in a flash.’” Hermione impersonated, sitting Cressida on the main bed and carefully removing the leg braces.



“Mmm… that dress you’re almost wearing is rather delicious, love.” Lucius purred in her ear.



“You eat Mummy? Mummy not food.” Cressida chirped, not understanding what the grown ups were talking about; she had come to the conclusion that grown ups were silly, did things the difficult way, and talked about things that didn’t make any sense. Cressida did not want to be a grown up, ever.



“Never mind, darling, never mind; more grown up talk.” Hermione said, getting wriggling legs into lace tights before replacing the leg braces. “Right, lets get these underskirts on. I’ll have you dressed in a flash.”



Hermione pulled the layers over the braces and fastened the drawstring waist with the little white ribbon before checking the many layers hid the braces from view.



“Arms up.” She said, carefully pulling the mauve silk and velvet party dress over her head and smoothing the wide skirt over the petticoats.



“Pretty Dress! Purple!” she giggled, moving to hug Lucius while Hermione tried to tie the sash into a bow.



“Stand still a minute!” Hermione laughed, placing a firm sticking charm over the bow – Cressida was rather adept at undoing them by accident.



“Well! I think I know who’ll be winning the award for the most beautiful tonight!” Draco said, entering the room and catching his baby sister as she ran awkwardly to him.



“Yeah, not us.” Jess said, wobbling on her high heels – she wasn’t used to wearing them. Her burgundy strapless ball gown was embroidered with orchids, the skirt flaring out from her hips in a wide circle. “Come here, Missy. Let me do your hair.” Jess began pulling the strawberry blonde tresses into a matching mauve ribbon high at the back of her head.



“Ladies, if I may complete your outfits?” Lucius said, enlarging and removing the wards on an impressive travel jewellery case.



“Oh, talking of completing outfits, Cressida needs her shoes on.” Hermione said, reaching into the garment bag for the patent black shoes and handing them to Draco, as the little girl was sat on his knee.



“Jess. The second set.” Lucius said, carefully placing an impressive, glistening, quarter of an inch wide choker around her throat, the matching bracelet on her wrist and the matching ring on the middle finger of her right hand.



“I don’t think this is a good idea – what if I break them?” she whimpered, looking in the mirror at the masses of perfect diamonds as they caught the light.



“They’re protected by spells, and insured.” Lucius shrugged, noticing Draco’s beaming smile at his girlfriend. Draco was taking things quite slowly, and Lucius couldn’t possibly drop more hints at there being a few very nice solitaire diamond rings in the family vault.



“Draco, will you do the honours with Cressida.” He said, handing over a pink velvet box. Inside was a fine gold bracelet with six heart-shaped diamonds set between the links; a singe, one carat heart sat on a necklace.



“Sparkles!” Cressida giggled, hugging Draco and wriggling on his lap.



“You should wear these petticoats more often, you don’t have a bony bum now!” he chuckled, resting his cheek in her soft hair.



“I do! It under the skirt!” she said, of course she still had her bottom! Another silly grown up phrase, obviously.



“And, the first set…” Lucius said, opening another case to reveal a mass of diamonds and platinum. Hermione blinked as Lucius carefully draped the large V around her throat, fastening it at the back of her neck before slipping the bracelet over her wrist. His hand gently traced her bare back.



“More sparkles!” Cressida cried, grinning.



“Lots more sparkles.” Hermione whispered, looking at the graduated spray of seven teardrop diamonds, the largest in the centre was seven carats, flanked by gradually smaller stones – but no smaller than one carat. Tiny diamonds encircled the large ones as well as the chain. Twelve one-carat teardrops encircled her wrist, and another huge three-carat teardrop sat on the middle finger of her right hand.



“Will you wear this one this evening?” Lucius asked, producing another ring box, this one containing a large marquise cut opal with green flecks, encased in an art Nuevo setting and band. He reached for her left hand, hovering over her third finger.



“All Heck will brake loose!” Hermione whimpered, accepting the ring that was pushed onto her finger.



“I think they’ll be having kittens at you wearing the Malfoy First Set; it will take them a while to notice the engagement ring.” Draco pointed out, setting Cressida down to cuddle her Daddy.



“What does that word mean?” she asked.



“Which one, princess?”



“Engrageament.” She stumbled over the pronunciation



“Engagement. It means I love your Mummy and want to spend forever with her, it means we’re going to get married.” Lucius said, taking her hand before leaving the room.



“Big pretty dress and flowers!” she giggled, grinning at the prospect of seeing her Mummy in a wedding dress.



“Stop reminding me.” Hermione moaned, smoothing the backless black sheath over her hips before taking Lucius’s other arm and heading for the lift.



***



The flashing of camera bulbs caught the three sets of Malfoy diamonds and the dresses of the women wearing them; they’d no doubt be on the front page of the glossy magazines for a week after this. Cressida, suddenly shy, hid her face in Lucius’s leg.



Someone gasped: “The Malfoy Diamonds!”, and a chorus of chatter broke around them.



“Well, his ancestors will be turning in their crypt!” one woman muttered.



“She must be wearing a few million galleons around her neck!” said another in pure jealousy.



“I think that scrap of fabric, otherwise known as a dress, probably cost a few hundred thousand.” Said another woman, envious of Hermione’s auror-trained figure.



“Lovely.” Hermione muttered, picking up Cressida as Lucius and Draco parted the way to the Auror’s tables. The ankle-to-thigh-high split opened a little further with the child perched on Hermione’s hip; revealing a mass of toned, tanned leg and three inch stilettos to the paparazzi.



“Mummy, why they talking about us?” Cressida asked, confused.



“Because you’re so pretty, and they can’t believe their eyes! A pretty little nymph has come to the party in a purple dress!” Hermione said, a beaming smile aimed at her daughter.



“Mummy? MUMMY!” Yelled an instantly-recognisable voice.



“Good evening Ronald.” Hermione groaned, hoping this could stay civil. She watched Harry pass baby James to Ginny and fight through the crowd to split up a fight; unfortunately Molly followed him.



“Well, it was until you walked in – dressed to the nines and wearing a diamond mine.” He spat.



“Ron. Stop it.” Harry warned, “This is a public place, and I don’t want to arrest you for breaking the peace.”



“Me? ME break the peace?” he growled, “What about her?”



“Hermione has a lot more control, she wouldn’t be head auror if she didn’t.” Harry said, diplomatically. Hermione passed Cressida to Lucius, who walked away from the building argument. His fiancée was quite capable of looking after herself.



“Did that child just call you Mummy?” Molly screeched.



“Yes.” Hermione answered simply, honesty was the best policy in all things, except in undercover missions.



“So… you wouldn’t share a home with Ronald, wouldn’t marry him and wouldn’t’ have children with him… yet here you are; dripping in Malfoy diamonds, living with and engaged to a Death Eater, and a child calling you Mummy!” Molly was an impressive shade of scarlet as the room fell silent.



“Former Death Eater, he fights for the light now.” Hermione corrected. Violence and anger would achieve nothing, and the head auror kept her cool as accusations were thrown at her. The surrounding crowd were silent, the press recoding every word.



“Well! So my son wasn’t good enough for you? Hmm? An honest lad, an honest job, no dark magic, reliable, dependable… and you turned him away for that criminal!” Molly screamed, before sneering, “Well you certainly look the tart tonight! You’ve more thigh on show than a Knockturn Alley whore, you’re showing more cleavage than a nudist colony and there is so little fabric to the back of your dress that you can almost see your rear!”



“Molly! That’s enough!” Harry snapped, his wand trained on her, “One more foul comment and I will be obliged by the laws I upkeep to arrest you! Calm. Down.”



“I did ask Lucius if my bum looked big in this.” She groaned, trying to see over her shoulder, not caring what the Weasley Matriarch was saying. Molly would cool off in a while and hopefully leave her alone.



“You lying little cow! What does Lucius have that Ron doesn’t?”



“I’m the liar, am I?” Hermione said, her eyes sparking. Harry silently called over more aurors, if he had to stun Hermione then he’d need help. “Well, ask your precious son what he was doing in my bed between another woman’s thighs – apart from the obvious – we can all guess what he was doing, but did he tell you why Molly? Did he tell you that he was trying to mould me into the perfect stay-at-home-house-wife? Did he tell you that he was pressuring me to quit my job to care for my home – not a joint home, he wanted to move into my property and claim the deeds in marriage, then have lots and lots of babies – regardless of my career and opinion…” Hermione looked purely menacing, “Lucius accepts me for who I am; he accepts I will not leave the ministry; he understands I will most certainly not stay at home; he is well aware that he cannot mould me into someone I am not.”



“My son would not have an affair! You lying bitch!” she spat.



“Well, sorry to tell you, but he most certainly did. I’ll give you the memory in a pensive if you want.” Hermione shrugged, itching to reach for the wand concealed in her cleavage.



“Molly. One. More. Foul. Word. And. I. Will. Arrest. You.” Harry hissed, aiming his want at his Mother-in-law.



“Even that… what’s-his-name was better than Malfoy!” Ron chipped in.



“Who?” Hermione said, thinking, realisation suddenly dawning on her, “Oh, you mean the rapist?! Yeah, a heck of a lot better.” her voice oozed sarcasm at the last, the surrounding crowd gasped.



“So much for keeping that out of the press, ‘Mione.” Harry said, taking her hand for a moment.



“Every secret appears sooner or later.” She whispered, aching for a hug.



Lucius walked over, dangerous in every sense of the word. He calmly stood to Hermione’s side as an equal. “Can I be of assistance, love?” he asked gently.



“Yeah, escort me out of the way before I hex her for spreading hideous rumours about me all those years ago and for airing my dirty laundry in public.” Hermione said mentally exhausted.



“Ignore her words, you are truly beautiful – inside and out - more of a treasure than the diamonds you wear.” He whispered before simply offering his arm and turning them away from the fuming woman in the centre of the room. Harry (hopefully) could handle his Mother-in-law. The black dress trailed a little on the floor as Hermoine walked away, her hips swaying naturally as her arm moved around Lucius's back, and his around her's





















http://www.diamondringforever.com/big_diamond_4096.htm the teardrop ring! Check it out, its enough to give a magpie a heart attack! *phwor!*