Lucius\' Bookshelves

Chapter 6

Hermione quickly slipped into a regular routine. She’d wake early, spend most of the day in the library reading and cataloguing texts. She’d stop in the late afternoon for her swim, and then a nap before drinks and dinner, and then a few hours of conversation with Lucius. Lucius usually left her alone to work, although occasionally he would come in to the library to read the paper or catch up on correspondence, and he maintained his unobserved vigil at the window while she swam. Hermione carried on this routine for several weeks, never straying too far from her task at hand.

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Hermione prepared to send the first lot of books to the Ministry. The lot included some of the derivative works that Lucius had first attempted to pawn off to her, as well as a few texts that had been ‘buried’ within other texts. She had snorted with laughter when she saw two texts like that. Surely Lucius was more clever – or at least sneakier - than that…

She had packaged the texts up with a note to the Ministry instructing them to place the books should be placed in a vault, where it would be ensured that they would not fall into the ‘wrong hands. When she returned, she decided to explore the Manor a little bit more.

Hermione decided to start with the dungeons, since she had only had a perfunctory glimpse of them when Lucius was giving her the tour of the Manor. And, she had to add, she’d feel a little more comfortable examining the dungeons without Lucius present.

Luckily, she still remembered how to find the entrance to the dungeons; she would have felt more than a little mortified to have to ask Lucius to show her the way to the dungeons again. Particularly since he had made it clear that he still used them for his private pleasures.

Trying to clear her mind of the images that popped into her mind at that last thought, Hermione opened the heavy wooden door that led her to the dungeons. She decided to get the room with the steel surgical table out of the way first.

She tried to mask her distaste as she entered the room and started searching the drawers and cabinets. One drawer was filled with new scalpels, while a cabinet contained antiseptics, gauze and tape. Another drawer contained a variety of steel clamps. Merlin! This place was better stocked than many of the field hospitals she had worked in.

The only evidence that suggested that the room was not a traditional operating theater was the drain in the floor at the end of the tablnd tnd the restraints that were still secured to the table itself.

Hermione shuddered. Gods. Severus had once told her about Lucius’ fondness for ‘blood play’; supposedly, torture had been a favorite past-time for the blond wizard. And this room was possible evidence of that.

While she didn’t doubt some parts of Severus’ account, Hermione was having a hard time reconciling the impeccably dressed and well-mannered Lucius that she knew with the irrational, blood-thirsty man than her former Potions Master had described. True, on occasion, she had seen a feverish glint in Lucius’ eyes during some of the after-dinner discussions, but it was that of a man passionate about the subject at hand, she concluded, and not the wild-eyed look of a madman. And, she decided with satisfaction, she was the type of person who judged people on how they behaved with her, and not on the hearsay of others.

Not that she thought that Lucius was completely guilt-free, of course. He had admitted to torturing`some prisoners, but he had testified that he had done so under the influence of the Dark Lord’s Imperius-style commands, and not out of personal pleasure or gain.

No, she didn’t deny Lucius’ dark past. Merlin knew that she had treated a number of his victims. She just wasn’t convinced anymore of the accuracy of Snape’s accounts of the senior Malfoy’s behavior. Because no one else had corroborated Severus’ stories, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was some other unrelated animosity between the two that had resulted in Snape’s intense dislike of Lucius, and would explain Snape’s descriptions of Lucius’ actions.

Still, Hermione shivered as she left the room. Whether Lucius had enjoyed what he had done or not, it was still disturbing. At least the room didn’t appear to house any Dark Arts items.

She was less certain about the presence of Dark Arts items in the next room she entered. This was the room with the ‘family heirlooms.’ If past experience had taught her anything, it was that the Malfoy family ‘heirlooms’ needed to be investigated closely. Not that all the family’s ancestral holdings would be affiliated with the Dark Arts, but it would be naive to assume that none of them were.

She lit a couple of the waconcconces in the dark room before looking around. The racks on the wall holding implements of torture caught her attention first. She picked up a heavy metal spike off the rack, not really wanting to contemplate the potential uses for it. Swinging it loosely in the air, she decided to put it back on the wall. She fingered a cat-o’-nine-tails, amazed at the suppleness of the leather, given the apparent age of the item. She moved on to a pair of leg shackles.

“See anything that interests you?” Lucius purred.

Hermione jumped, her heart pounding. How the hell did he get in here without her even noticing?! She turned around, and saw that Lucius was only a few feet from her, his eyes glittering in the low light of the room.

“I can show you how these work, if you’d like…” His voice trailed off, the merest hint of excitement in it. “This,” he indicated a set of manacles on the wall, as Hermione looked to see where he was pointing, “is a very interesting set. Enchanted to ensure that the wearer doesn’t lose, er, sensations in the extremities while wearing them.”

Lucius casually rested his hand on her shoulder, lowe his his mouth to her ear, his voice low and silky. Hermione shivered at the hot breath on her neck.

“Of course,” Lucius continued, his fingers toying with the fabric on the collar of her shirt, brushing lightly against the soft skin of her neck, “Some of these items, can be used as much to tease and to give pleasure, as to cause pain.”

Hermione shivered again. Merlin! The man’s touch was positively electric where his fingers flicked across her skin. She gasped softly as his fingers began to work delicate circles on the skin below her jaw. She leaned back slightly, feeling the pressure of his arm against her shoulders.

Gods. It was taking every ounce of control to not shackle the girl to the table, and rip the clothing from her body.

“I could help you,mionmione,” he whispered. “I could teach you how to enjoy the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain that heightens your awareness… That brings you to greater peaks…” Oh gods. He had to have this woman. Right now.

Hermione’s breathing rate increased. She knew what he was suggesting. What he was offering. In spite of herself, her body was reacting; bolts of heat shot from his fingertips to her very core, creating a hot, dull ache between her legs. She tilted her head back as his fingers continued their ministrations.

“Just say the word, my dear,” Lucius’ mouth was mere inches from her ear, the desire to tease her neck, her ear with his tongue was overwhelming him. His cock was aching with want. “Just say the word, and I’ll show you things – new things. Exciting things.” The tip of his tongue brushed against her earlobe.

Hermione’s eyes snapped open. What the hell was she doing? Oh gods! This was insanity. No matter how good his hands felt, no matter how exciting his hot breath was, bringing its promises of pleasure. It didn’t matter. This was insanity! She was a representative of the Ministry, not some harlot letting the lord of the manor have his way with her! She had to get out of here before things went any further…

Turning around suddenly, Hermione pushed past Lucius and dashed out of the room.

Lucius watched her retreating form, as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Damn it. He had fucked things up. He had rushed her. He could tell that she was enjoying it moments earlier – the flush on her skin, her ragged breathing, her soft gasps. Oh yes. She was enjoying it. Perhaps the offer of pain was what scared her off. Damn it. That was probably it. She was too young, too innocent to want - or even realize – the intense sensations that he could provide in his dungeons. Damn. He’d have to start slower. He’d have to work her up to this.

Because she certainly had the potential to be an extremely exciting woman. Even though she didn’t realize it, he recognized that she had her own dark desires buried within her. He could tell that from the very way she fingered the cat-o’-nine-tails, and the way she ran her hands over the manacles. It would just take time.

Still, there was a more pressing need… He unzipped his slacks, and brought himself off quickly, the mental picture of Hermione shackled, her legs spread, the leather handle of the whip teasing the delicate flesh between her legs fueling his motions.

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A/N: Well, it\'s not much in the way of smut yet. But I think Hermione\'s reaction is totally justified, and it is a start.... They\'re getting there. Trust me. There will be smut. But I have to get both of them to accept the idea..... Again - thanks for the reviews - I appreciate it!