Beyond the Veil -- COMPLETE

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Updated 9-26-08


A little change up, folks. It's time to forge ahead, now that our couple has been sated for a while. Mystery ahead!


Some replies:


Rini - I know Hermione complained the gown was low cut, but consider the source. She’s kind of a prude. I envisioned about an inch of cleavage showing. Hermione does have a few slightly Slytherin tendencies, getting Pansy back that way. Mystery coming up.


sisterae – Last chapter was a surfeit of sex. Mystery is now dead ahead.


lonne2 – I suspect you’re a bit in the minority with the percentage you want distributed between plot and sex, but you will be very pleased with the next chapters. (You may remember this story is already written, so I can’t change the percentages anyway.) You did get 21 chapters of no sex at the beginning. Just ask the readers who nearly strangled me. LOL


Citten – I had to put off the mystery to bring equality to their sex life, but we’re moving on now. I am glad you didn’t overdose on the lemon pie.


HermioneMalfoyFan – I’m happy you’re content with the mix of sex and plot. Much plot coming up. Everyone probably has a theory by now. Perhaps I should have thought of soaked knickers. I only suggested drool rags. One learns these things as one goes along.


Mrs_Helene_Snape – Yes, a few timely hexes would have come in handy in high school for me, too. Ah, the granny nightie was probably only because the bedroom was a tad chilly. Lucius fixed that up. I don’t think Hermione will be focused on the conversation with the Pureblood matrons.


Heidi191976 – Thanks, Heidi. More coming up.


Utopia – I added the flowers to her knickers as I said I would. I suspect the Prophet is being published, but the pics are probably line drawings as you said. Speechless again, huh? [grin]


Jesse – Will you always prefer that it be Lucius who ‘gets’ and Hermione who ‘gives’? He certainly likes it when he does get it.


Voracious Reader – I must admit Sirius probably won’t show up in my stories. I’m not a fan of his. He was too mean as a Marauder. Not a fan of James Potter either. Pettigrew was just a worm. I’ll leave Remus out, but he’s a cipher to me. Nigellus might be Headmaster. I didn’t check the HP Lexicon. I haven’t talked about any Headmaster, just the Minister for Magic.


Clare1984 – We’re moving on to actual plot this chapter. The sex scales are balanced for a while, although the visual of Lucius in just his shirt and waistcoat should be drawn by someone. I wish I could draw. I’m happily anticipating your story. No hurry, just happy waiting.


blue artemis – Glad you liked the lemons and we will see more plot in this chapter. Yay!


Slytherin-Princess – I wonder if Lucius sneaked in telling her he loved her while she had her mouth full LOL. I think it was more him being comfortable with her and letting it all out (like his sitting around in just his shirt). I usually start out a story with one or two sentences as my idea. I never know how far the story will take me. So no, I had no intentions for length one way or the other.


ShiningEyes – I think most of us would like to be Hermione. I know I would – sigh.


Damiana – You’ll find out more about Hermione’s thoughts this chapter. No one else mentioned that. Interesting, Damiana. Interesting.


Scary Bear Hair – I would like to be too rich and too thin. Sounds lovely. Hermione’s revenge was rather precise, aimed at Pansy’s looks. Lucius can be sweet sometimes, certainly. His outlook, though, is always that nothing is ever done without strings. Pure Slytherin. I’m happy you enjoy the love scenes!


tambrathegreat – Lucius has now laid out his feelings completely. Hermione is possibly being idiotic, although she has a bad history with him and is coming more slowly to total commitment, which is what loving him would mean to her.


angelprince – Hermione should now have a lifetime supply of fancy knickers. Lucky lady. Lucius is very aware of what he said – that he loved her. Total commitment for Hermione means she accepts him AND his past. That is something she has yet to entirely embrace.


shez - Clothes porn LOL. Maybe there should be a section of AFF that has descriptions of people wearing or NOT wearing all kinds of clothes.


And now...


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Chapter Forty-Three

A Visitor

Hermione continued to feel that something was just out of her grasp. It wasn’t until the next morning after breakfast that her subconscious mind finally coughed up what had been nagging at her. Lucius had gone out to several appointments and wasn’t expected back for several hours.

Hermione wanted to wait for him because she really didn’t want to act on her brainstorm without him, but when even her latest tome on the magic world, “Size Matters: Giants as the Norm in a Lilliputian Wizarding Society,” couldn’t hold her interest past chapter three, her natural curiosity got the better of her fear and she closed the book with a decisive snap.

All that was holding her back was a groundless fear of something that hadn’t even happened yet. The little witch firmly quashed her incipient hyperventilation, but the terror immediately rushed back in a debilitating wave as she slowly walked toward the main drawing room – a place she had vowed never to enter again because of the horrific memories of being tortured by Bellatrix in there. The fact it hadn’t happened yet didn’t lessen her anxiety one iota.

She arrived at the carved oak doors and reached with a shaking hand for one of the snake-shaped levers, depressing it. The door whispered open and Hermione got her first glimpse of the vast, overdecorated room when she heard an odd, shuffling noise from within. Peeking around the doorjamb, surprise held her still for a moment, banishing fear. “Mr. Nesbitt! How did you get onto the estate and into this house?” Hermione felt for her wand, but left it in her pocket.

“I’m still legal counsel for the Malfoys and your departed uncle gave me perpetual access to his property. Your husband never rescinded the order.”

The presence of the wizened, little solicitor unannounced in her home immediately made Hermione cautious and alert. She’d been through so much turmoil already in her life that pending danger had a familiar tang to her.

“I’m sure he didn’t know about it, Mr. Nesbitt. Please leave and we won’t mention it again.” The old wizard didn’t look kindly and benign this time; he was distinctly irritated at her interruption. She quietly assessed the appurtenances of the large, hated room for the best place to make a stand if she needed to. Lucius wasn’t here to help her this time. If she needed to defend herself, it might have to be something stronger than a stupefy.

She didn’t know how strong a wizard Mr. Nesbitt was and from long experience didn’t make the error of underestimating him solely from his age and size. Her one advantage was that people in this time period tended to discount witches as lesser magic folk or too delicate to perform magic strong enough to defend themselves. If Mr. Nesbitt shared those views of the distaff side, she might have a good chance to disarm him if he tried to hurt her.

“I’ve come for some legal parchments,” he said, eyeing Hermione’s empty wand hand. “You needn’t stay. I know where they are.”

“I’ll come with you. You’re going to Lucius’ study, I assume?” Hermione began to sidle slowly out of the drawing room door.

Suddenly Augustus Nesbitt pulled his wand from his sleeve. “You won’t be going anywhere with me, Mrs. Malfoy. I’ll just have your wand now and you can come back into the room and roll up that central Persian rug for me.” He waved vaguely toward the center of the room with his free hand. “It’s difficult on my old bones to bend over, so your untimely appearance will be some help. Your wand, my dear. Take it out slowly, holding the point, and hand it to me.” His proffered jovial smile clashed sharply with his menacing words.

Hermione scowled at the threatening wizard, but slowly pulled her wand from her pocket, point first and handed it to the little solicitor who grabbed it and put it away up his sleeve. “Don’t try any stupid attempts at ‘accio’. Your wand won’t return to you with that elementary charm. Not while it’s in my possession.” He gestured with his wand, “The rug, please. I don’t have all day. And don’t worry, I’ll just obliviate you when I’m finished. You won’t remember a thing. I don’t want to alienate your very wealthy husband.”

Hermione moved toward the rug, “You were working with Lucius’ uncle, blackmailing the Squibs’ families, weren’t you?”

“What do you know about blackmail and Squibs, you nosy girl? Did he leave some incriminating records? He was always only interested in deflecting marriage offers for Squibs rather than in making any money for the information we held over people.” Nesbitt gestured at the rug, “Hurry up, witch. I have other things to do today and you’re making me run behind.”

“He didn’t leave any records about his blackmail,” Hermione denied. “Quite a few people merely expected Lucius to take up where his uncle left off. We’ve had several people subtly probing us for our expectations of them. That’s because even though he’s dead, the blackmail continued. And now money is being demanded instead of just keeping Squibs from marrying in the wizarding world. I assume that is your doing? Your own greed will trip you up, you know.”

“You know nothing about having no money. You’re married to the richest wizard in our country. It was the same with that stupid uncle of your husband’s. He never wanted to extort money. He gave the stuff away, for Hecate’s sake, just to keep Squibs out of magic marriages. Insufferable clod.”

Hermione bent down and very slowly started rolling back the rug, but nothing was under there. She looked up blankly at Augustus Nesbitt.

The old wizard cackled, “You expected to see the hidden door? What use is a hidden chamber if one only has to roll back a rug to see the entrance?” He mumbled an incantation, swirling his wand over the floor and within seconds a large trap door was revealed in the marble floor. “Open up the door, there’s a good girl.” Nesbitt kept his wand trained closely on Hermione as she struggled to raise a solid, oak plank door until it was lying flat on the floor leaving the entrance wide open.

“You might have helped me with the rug and the heavy door,” Hermione chuffed, examining her hands and seeing a vague rash rising from the rough wood.

“You did fine. I’m not giving you a chance to jump me for the wand. Do I look stupid?” The aged wizard motioned her to step down the set of stairs into the hidden room and he followed behind her at a safe distance. “Move over to the far wall and sit down on the floor.”

Hermione did as he said, sitting on the cold stone floor, tucking her thin dress under her to minimize the chill of the stones on her derriere. “I meant you could have used a spell to move the rug and door so I didn’t have to lift them,” she said.

“Shut up, girlie or I’ll use a silencing spell. Oh, and don’t try to call out. This room is deadened – no noise can leave it. Too bad you didn’t try to call out when we were in the drawing room,” he taunted. He moved over to a large iron-studded chest in the corner, intoning ‘lumos.’ His wand lit and the room was illuminated; Hermione could see a few cobwebbed pieces of parchment sticking out of a set of cubbyholes on one wall, and some other empty shelves along another wall, but otherwise the hidden room was empty.

The wizard didn’t seem to be interested in anything but the chest. Nesbitt threw charms at two ceiling orbs and the room lit even more. He lifted the lid on the chest and began sifting through items Hermione couldn’t see from her vantage point. She heard him grumbling something about brainless, prying females and assumed he was speaking of her.

Hermione braved the man’s command to be silent, “Are those your blackmail documents? Is this where you hide them? It’s clever of you not to keep them at your office.”

“My law partner would find them. I can’t keep them there. He’s into everything. Obsessed with neatness,” the old man mumbled, trying to keep one eye on Hermione and look through the contents of the chest at the same time. “I need to remove them from here, though. Now that you’re living in the mansion, it was only a matter of time before you discovered this place. It’s unlikely that your husband would already know about it, having been away from this country all his life, but one of the elves may know of it. I couldn’t take the chance of leaving my livelihood documents here any longer. Unfortunately you and your lovebird husband seem to like staying home every night. The one night I could have come here while you were at the ball till nearly morning, my straight-laced partner kept us both in the office late with several depositions. I decided to try my luck during the day.”

“So,” Hermione pondered, “the elves wouldn’t have told us you were on the property or in our house?” She knew Lucius must be aware that there was a hidden room below the drawing room, but she couldn’t say as much to the ancient wizard without explaining their time travel and that was no business of her captor’s.

“Unlikely. I’ve come in and out of here for many years. They’re used to me.” Nesbitt wasn’t paying much attention to her questions, but he was watching her while he continued to dip his hand into the chest. “Ah, there it is.” He pulled out a tiny lump that he proceeded to enlarge into a sizable portmanteau, which he placed on the floor next to the chest. “I knew I had that in there somewhere. It’s how I brought the documents here years ago.”

Hermione watched as one by one, the old wizard lifted out documents and other items, shrank them and placed them in the bag. She knew that if he got away with those things, all the people being blackmailed would continue to suffer. He was letting her see it all, only because she was going to be a candidate for obliviation and she didn’t know if he was any good at it or she would lose gaping amounts of her memory.

Hermione sat still, observing everything and asking the occasional question in order to learn what she could about his operation. He seemed almost proud of his cleverness, waxing more boastful as his daylight foray appeared about to succeed. He had an untraceable owl for his blackmail payments and a hidden Muggle account where the wizarding world would be unlikely to find it.

As his braggadocio wound down, Hermione thought she had learned as much as she was likely to from the self-satisfied braggart, but she was mistaken. She innocently asked whether Lucius’ uncle had split any blackmail money with him and got blasted with an impassioned tirade of venom.

“That sanctimonious old hypocrite! He used his money to harass Squibs out of the wizarding world, but he didn’t want me making any money from the families with a little blackmail. Can you imagine? Him, with his vast monetary resources and vicious manipulation of Squib families, he drew the line at me having any money from it. I was the one who was the go-between, who did all the investigating of the families, who made all the contracts the families had to sign. I did all the work and he expected that my regular solicitor’s salary was enough.” The old wizard glared at Hermione as if she were the one denying him his due.

“He found out I’d been bleeding the families on the side and he was furious. He said what he was doing was legal, but what I was doing was not only illegal but shameful. Disgraceful! He was going to turn me in to the Ministry. He said he was sending for an Auror. I couldn’t have that, could I? Poor man to die at only ninety-four from apparent heart failure. In his own bed. It was simple to ‘stupefy’ him and then hold a pillow over his face. He was found in bed and it was assumed he died of natural causes. No one ever checked to see if he’d been killed by any other method.” Augustus beamed at his own ingenuity.

“So you don’t really think I could ever let you or your husband show these papers to the Ministry, do you?” he snarled with a pronounced sneer disfiguring his face; the change from beatific to beastly was shocking to Hermione even though she knew she was now looking at a conscienceless murderer. “Oh, my no,” the beatific face was back, “I’ve worked too hard to show the wizarding world that Squibs are lesser beings and give myself an additional income to have either of you bring me down now.” He motioned Hermione to precede him back up through the trapdoor, staying well behind her, carrying the portmanteau while directing her back into the room that brought shivers running over her skin, remembering Bellatrix standing over her just in that spot.

Hermione’s mind faltered for just a second. She was facing a memory that made her want to cower and she had an insane murderer with his wand trained on her back. The present circumstance blew the other one out of her mind and her thoughts steadied. She was about to be obliviated and she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let Lucius be harmed by this antediluvian blackguard either, and if she lost her memory, he could be in danger. She’d learned all she needed to know. It was time.

She slid a second wand from her sleeve and shot a short burst of colored fire at Nesbitt’s wand hand, singeing it and making him drop his wand.

“You bitch! You can’t have another wand!” he screamed. “I took your wand. What kind of witch are you?” Nesbitt cradled his injured hand against his scrawny chest as he danced up and down in his rage, his face turning an unbecoming shade of red as he faced the business end of Hermione’s new wand. He began muttering spells under his breath.

“Now, none of that if you please,” and she waved her wand, casting a hex that garbled his voice, ruining whatever incantation he was attempting. A second spell kept him from disapparating, causing him to gaze wild-eyed at her abilities. “Well,” she continued conversationally, as though they were talking over the tea table, “as you have so kindly asked - apparently I’m a rather clever witch. My husband thinks so and he’s quite clever himself. Pureblood, you know. Thank you for telling me all about how you operate your blackmail and I’ll take that carryall.” She aimed the wand at him showing him she meant business and he tossed the bag on the floor beside her with his remaining good hand.

“Oh, by the way,” she added, “I’m Muggleborn, not Pureblood. I just wanted to clear up that slight misconception my husband may have encouraged.” Hermione watched dispassionately as a vein bulged out on the little wizard’s forehead and his color turned purple with ungovernable choler.

“About the second wand,” she confided indifferently, waving the item in illustration while never taking its aim from her prisoner, “I got the idea from a very powerful wizard who had one wand, but wanted another, better one. I also once had an experience where a second, hidden wand would have come in handy. So I just went to Ollivander’s and bought another one. Did you know there isn’t any rule against having as many wands as one wants?” She motioned him over to a chair and soon had him bound hand and foot to it using the drapery cords from the windows.

“So, I guess you’re the ‘root’ we’ve been looking for,” her wintry smile had nothing of kindness in it. “The root of all evil,” she murmured.

“What?” confusion laced the old wizard’s hex-garbled voice and his question came out more like ‘gwah?’

“Never mind, you wouldn’t recognize the quote.” Hermione was belatedly realizing that for all intents and purposes, the blackmail items were in the Malfoy mansion. All strings connecting them to the vicious, inflammatory information had to be removed elsewhere – immediately. There had to be no connection to Lucius or her. But how to accomplish foiling the nasty wizard, dealing with him, bringing him to justice and most of all keeping both their name and all the blackmail materials out of it? It was a frightening prospect to have anyone learn that the blackmail materials had resided in the Malfoy mansion at all. The local wizarding society as a whole already was looking at them askance because of ‘uncle’s’ prejudicial behavior.

Just as she was wishing Lucius were available to deal with the knotty problem, he apparated into the drawing room, coming to a halt in great surprise. “The elves said you were in here and I hadn’t wanted you to come alone.” He addressed his wife, but cocked his head, bemused by the little solicitor. “But I see you do have company.” Lucius strolled over to the seated, bound solicitor. Is there some reason you’ve tied a guest to one of our chairs?”

tbc...


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We have a ways to go yet. More to come.


Reviews are happily accepted. If you only rate, the link is below on the right, but a few words would be gratefully received. Thanks!!

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