Last Exit to Eden

Title: Last Exit to Eden-Chapter 6
Author: lucretziathevagabond
Pairing: Lucius/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All recognizable character belong to JKR. I own the plot and the other characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Author’s Note: Again, thanks for all my reviews. I have about four more chapters, and then an epilogue planned, so with any luck, I will have it finished by 31 October. Maybe even sooner. Thanks for coming along for the ride.-LV

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Chapter 6: Juno’s Tale

Hermione woke up to shouting, and veiled threats being issued from across her sitting room. Struggling to sit up, her eyes focused on a red haired man shouting at a blonde one. Even years later , Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy were at each others throats. She closed her eyes again, fighting off wave after wave of nausea. What had happened? She remembered those horrible photographs, then McGonagall going to call Harry. Then came the spots and green light.

“Am I dead?” she asked, trying to focus. Surely, she couldn’t be.

“No. No thanks to idiot boy here. He came tumbling through the floo with the Potter boy and hexed you. I called Malfoy Manor, and this one climbs out and starts hexing the red haired one. Now, both of them are pinned to their chairs and I have their wands.” She waved the two pieces of wood, and Hermione smiled at the thought that a woman Juno McGonagall’s age could disable two seasoned duelists.

“What was I cursed with?”

“Tell her, Weasel!” Draco spat, struggling against the invisible bonds.

“Sod off, Ferret!”

“Honestly, you two. After a decade you’d think you would have come up with better insults.” Hermione groaned.

“It was a variation of the Finite Incantatum” Juno explained, rolling her eyes. “The difference is that it can show if an Unforgivable like Imperio was used. If the person is under an Imperium, the curse stream will be orange and the person will freeze, halting whatever it is they are trying to do.”

“And if you’re not under an Imperium?”

“You tell us, Miss Granger.”

Her head flopped back onto the pillow again. Her kitchen seemed to be filled with familiar voices, some of which she hadn’t heard in years. She could pick out Harry’s tenor, Remus’ growling baritone and the cultured accents of Lucius, They seemed to be arguing, and from what she could glean it was about the next step regarding the photos.

Apparently, they had begun to burn of their own accord, in an obvious attempt to destroy the evidence. Thankfully, Ruby had the presence of mind to put a stasis on the paper of the photos and parchment. Now, the argument was what to do to preserve the paper so it could be studied. Harry wanted it returned to the Ministry where the experts were, and Lucius wanted it to be held at the Manor for safety. He had agreed to allow experts to examine it, but wanted it in his sight. After a few minutes, Remus spoke.

“Harry, I think Lucius is right. There are too many uncertainties to allow the Ministry to be entrusted with it. If an official investigation is opened, Hermione’s address, her business records, everything will become public knowledge. That’s going to make the situation even more difficult to sort out.”

“Besides, this paper is clearly Dark. I mean, who would want paper that incinerates on it’s own?” She heard a snort of derision.

“How about people living in Muggle areas? Or researchers who don’t want their knowledge in the wrong hands? Or private love letters? Paper is not Dark. It is the intent that makes it Dark. Honestly, you call yourself an Auror?” A heated argument ensued, ended only by Bill Weasley coming through the floo.’

Hermione got up reluctantly and went to look for Buttercream. The silly kitten had taken to showing her affection with dead mouse “presents” on her pillows, and had for the past two weeks taken to chasing a particularly large and ugly toad around the garden. Corralling the kitten, she brought her inside.
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Now everyone was crowded into her sitting room. Hermione’s sofa was shared by Juno; who was still holding the wands and Ruby, who was holding Hermione’s coffee mug and stroking Buttercream.

“Ruby, you can leave now,” Remus told the elf kindly. She glared at him and kept her seat.

“I is a free elf, sir. You are not my mistress, and your friends hurt Miss. I is not leaving until they do. Miss needs me here to protect her.” Smiles flitted across the room at the thought that Hermione may have found the one elf in existence more stubborn than she was. Hermione patted her hand, and the Ruby beamed. Minerva spoke next.

“All right. We are here to discuss the situation regarding the photographs and the potential threat to her safety. I think we can all agree that the photographs, while disturbing are somewhat easy to find. The photograph of Hermione during the war was used as evidence during Dolohov’s trial, which was eventually leaked by the Prophet. It could have come from anywhere.”

“Agreed, but it still bears looking into. That does not look to be a replicated photo from a newspaper, it looks original.” Bill said. ”That would certainly narrow down access.”

“Someone with Ministry connections, or links to the Death Eaters may not narrow it as much as you would think,” Lucius interjected. He glared at the damned elf; he needed to touch his witch, to tell her things would be all right. Instead, he was stuck sitting between his son and Remus.

“What do you think they are going after her for?” Juno asked. Cries of disbelief came from every corner of the room.

“For whoring herself out to a Death Eater!” Ron shouted, then grabbed his throat as Minerva had silencio’d him.

“Ms. McGonagall, Hermione’s relationship with Mr Malfoy has ruffled a lot of feathers.” Harry tried to explain to the older woman, obviously thinking her a bit dotty.

“I am aware of her relationship, but that only became public knowledge this morning. Someone had already found this photograph, and had already found where Miss Granger lived. The second photograph is from last week, when no one really knew about their liasons.”

“The point is, Miss Granger is working a project with wide ranging implications, both from a historical point of view and one that various families would prefer to remain secret. The medical community would certainly like to keep her findings regarding the effects of the thalidomus potion quiet. The allegations of the loyalty potion would cause a frenzy by a substantial number of families who may have covertly supported Voldemort. Moreover, the original creator of the loyalty potion and his or her descendants would want this quiet as well.”

“Severus Snape brewed the loyalty potion”, Minerva said.

“Yes, but he didn’t create it. Severus told me he was given a copy by the Dark Lord and brewed it according to the instructions. Plus, I was forced to drink a loyalty potion before Severus even joined.” Lucius, leaned back, trying to think. Who was the old potions brewer, the one before Severus?

“What is your opinion?” Bill asked Juno. Whilst Hermione was unconscious from the effects of the countercurse Ron cast, Juno filled the rest of the visitors in on Hermione’s research. Remus had in turn pulled Bill aside and gave him the information. He was once again impressed by Hermione’s intelligence and abilities. More importantly, he was certain that he had made the right choice setting up the twins with Fleur’s part -veela cousins. Hermione Granger did not back down from a challenge, and would wear an invisible bullseye on her chest for would be assassins for the rest of her life.

“I believe that the person is at least in part tied to this house. Imagine returning to this house after years of being away, and finding it once again restored to its former beauty. Then imagine lying in wait, and finding out who owns it; the woman who stood up to a corrupt Ministry, the one who is starting to uncover the home’s secrets. If the person were magical, it would be like hitting the jackpot. You may even have two people involved in this; and they aren’t done yet.”

“You’re moving to the manor.” Lucius said suddenly. I will not have you put at risk in this place a second longer.”

“Have you lost your mind? I’m not going anywhere. This is my home. Ruby is here with me, and I’ll be fine.” Hermione snapped, watching his face darken with anger.

“Fine. I’m moving in, then. You are wandless, and will not live alone in this massive house unprotected except for old wards. It is completely unacceptable. Ruby, notify Lizzy at the manor and have my things moved.”

Harry moved his chair back; he knew how this was going to end. He had known Hermione for years, and the pureblood was fighting a battle he couldn’t win. No one told Hermione what to do, and nobody invaded her privacy. Lucius imperious tone would only enrage her further.

“No.” Ruby had set the cup down and crossed her arms, anger radiating from her little body.

“What?” Lucius looked incredulous.

“Miss says you are not to stay here. Ruby will do as Miss says. If Lizzy sends Mister’s clothes, Ruby will throw them in the dustbin with the coffee grounds. Mister is not moving in; and you is not to tell me what to do. I is a free elf. “

“Let’s discuss some other options.” Bill tried not to chuckle at the defiant look on the elf’s small face. Lucius was clutching his walking stick so tightly, the redhead was afraid he would break it.

“Yes, let’s” Minerva jumped in, trying to break the tension.

“Hermione, how are your wandless spells? Have you been keeping up with them?” She shook her head.

“I can do small ones, but I haven’t kept them up.” She sounded ashamed at the confession. Minerva nodded briskly.

“Then Bill can work with you on those; particularly spells relating to self-defense. “ She nodded.

“This is so stupid. Why can’t Hermione just go to Ollivander’s and get a new wand?” Draco asked with frustration.

“The reason the Ministry has given me is that because I turned it in, they have to give me approval for a new one. Dolores Umbridge found a new job at the Ministry scheduling cases, and has lost my paperwork twice. Until the Wizengamot meets in three weeks on 3 November to evaluate my request to in to apply for a wand, I’m stuck. Even if I were to get a new wand somehow, I need to have my home registered as a wizarding dwelling before I could use it in here without getting in trouble. That takes weeks for an appointment.”

“Leaving her unprotected for three weeks. I’ve tried to speak to Kingsley, even filed a report for additional protection but the bloody Ministry won’t budge.” Harry spat out the words in fury. His argument with Kingsley had echoed through the halls of the Ministry and had even made it into the paper, courtesy of Rowan Diggory, Amos’ niece and reporter for the Prophet.

“I’ll notify our solicitors to see what they can do, Father.” Draco stepped into the floo and disappeared, returning minutes later with an appointment for first thing in the morning.

“The Ministry is pathetic.” Juno complained bitterly.

“They’re just following protocol. It’s not fair to expect special treatment for Hermione just because she lives alone, or because of her research.” Ron argued, causing Minerva to roll her eyes.

“Whereas, you would consider it fair to have a single woman defenseless when there is a clear threat to her life and safety?” Ron started to argue, but found himself unable to speak; this time compliments of Bill.

“Enough,” Hermione said, rubbing her temples. “Ruby and I will be fine here. People can come and visit, but no one is moving in. However, I can’t have people here all the time; I need to work.””

“I will be coming nightly for dinner.” Lucius said simply, leaving no room for argument. An argument ensued anyway, but he held firm. Silently, he intended to make as many overnight stays as possible. Hermione was brave to the point of recklessness, and he needed to keep her safe.

“I know Pansy wants to get to know you better, Granger. I’m sure she’d love to come. She still lives with her parents, and will until the wedding. Her parents are driving her spare, so she would probably love to come over.” Personally, Draco wanted to forward that friendship as much as possible. Pansy was loyal to a fault, and would be invaluable as an ally if Hermione and his father managed to get through their courtship without hexing each other to oblivion. When Hermione agreed, he decided to get started immediately.

Draco called through the floo to the Parkinson’s and spoke briefly with Pansy, who looked about to burst into tears. Shouts could be heard in the background, and she saw Pansy duck to avoid something.
“She can come over tonight if she needs a place to stay.” Hermione offered, looking horrified at the puffy eyed woman.

“Fleur can also some by, Hermione. We’re temporarily staying at Mum and Dad’s while our flat is renovated, and she tends to get a little out of sorts.” Bill looked like he would beg her if necessary, and Hermione suspected that living at the Burrow was not Fleur’s idea of bliss.

“Fine. Now that that is sorted out, I’d like to hear what Juno has to say on her research.” Hermione was trying to regain the upper hand. This was her house after all. She stood unsteadily and Lucius moved to her side. He led her into the kitchen, and held her closely, stroking her hair.

“I just want to keep you safe.” He whispered.

“Lucius, you need to back off a little and let me breathe. You are so important to me, but I am not ready to be anybody’s wife yet. I need to find my place in the magical community first. Just let me find out who I am.” He nodded.

She heard conversation in the floo and walked back in to see Pansy standing in her living room, sobbing into Draco’s arms. A battered black satchel sat on the floor, and Pansy was barefoot. Hermone tried to hide her horror.

“The Parkinsons have lost much of their influence since the war. Her father was always an obsessive gambler, but he hasn’t been doing well lately and her mother is a bit high maintainence. Pansy has worked her way into her current beauty editor position, but can’t afford to live on her own. Her parents want her to move in with her fiancée Jean, but she’s not ready.”

“Hi, Pansy.” The dark haired girl pulled away from Draco and smiled uncertainly. She smoothed her dress, and tried to paste on her arrogant look. It didn’t suit her face anymore.

“Hi, Granger. Thanks for inviting me to stay. I realize I came a little earlier than expected, but I needed to leave.” She stood, challenging Hermione to question her further.

“It’ s all right. Juno McGonagall was about to tell us about her prior research on this house. Ruby, can you please take Pansy up to her room, the one with the green bathroom.” Ruby nodded and picked up the satchel, escorting Pansy up the stairs.

“I want to hear this too!” Pansy called from the stairs. Don’t start without me!” Ten minutes later, Pansy descended looking very pleased and took a chair near Draco. All attention turned to Juno.

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“I’m not sure how much you know about my family, but when Minerva and I were children, we had a younger brother. He was named Edgar, and we loved him beyond reason. He was the sweetest young boy, but he was very different from us. I’m not referring to magic, although he never manifested any I ever saw. By different, I mean developmentally. He took much longer than normal to walk and speak than other children his age. When he reached six, he started to be bullied by other children in my family’s social circle. Then one September when Edward was around seven, Minerva and I went off to Hogwarts and Edgar just disappeared. We came home to find his bedroom turned into a guest room and we were told he had died and was cremated. We were children, and we reluctantly accepted the flimsy excuse.

After Hogwarts, I entered the Healer program at St Mungo’s. One day, I happened to be doing a death certificate search and decided to look up my brother’s. We had never really been told why he died, and as a young woman with big dreams of saving the world I thought I could handle it. When I finally located it, the cause of death was malnutrition and pneumonia; the listed home address was this one.

As you can imagine, I was furious. I came here and demanded to speak to that Walcott woman. She came to the door, nearly swaying on her feet and threatening to call the Aurors on me. I pushed past her, and saw about ten children cleaning and doing chores. Eventually I left without seeing the entire house. I swore I was going back.

A few weeks later, I disguised myself with Polyjuice did just that. I pretended to be a mother with a child who had not met my expectations and was ushered into her massive office. She started with being sympathetic to my supposed plight, and offered me a solution: she would take my child for a one time fee of 10 000 galleons, and would raise him until such time as he could be adopted by a nice muggle family. I could see how a desperate family could be drawn in to such promises; have their child raised by a family that wants to adopt a child, and no one knows they were ever “different.”

Of course, I suspected this to be a lie, and when I started doing research, I found out that my suspicions were correct. Muggles needed proof of birth, and loads of other information a magical parent would not be able to provide, not would a regular orphanage. Once I found that out, I went deeper.

I found three other such agencies in Britain, and was able to get my hands on records. Orphanage names were secretly passed back and forth between society wives, but when my mother died, I inherited her diaries and started to search for the person who had given the name to her. Eventually, I was able to locate Alice Thumbel, who had gotten Walcott started in the business. She and Walcott had some sort of falling out, and as this woman’s health was poor and as she had little time left she spilled her guts.

Alice had gotten involved with the program after being widowed suddenly. She had inherited her husband’s estate, but unbeknownst to her the property had several liens against it and she was heavily in debt. Her savings was dwindling and she was about to lose everything. Then a doctor friend came to her with a plan. She would take in children that were considered unwanted, then slowly have them adopted in the muggle world. Alice would collect fees from the parents giving up the child and from the adoptive parents. The doctor would be physician of record and would file whatever paperwork was needed in exchange for a fee. Of course, this plan wasn’t thought through well and Alice ended up with children she had no way to get legal documentation for. The cost of raising the children was eating into her profits, and she couldn’t get more children without getting rid of the old ones.”

“Enter Jezebel Walcott and her little jars of poison.” Hermione said, and Juno nodded.

“Alice got Jezebel into the business as a way of earning extra income. A match made in hell, you might say. Walcott was supposed to give Alice a percentage of the fees she took in, but she got double crossed. Walcott is a black widow; she killed three husbands and two of her own children, so what did she care about someone else’s? Walcott’s other strength was that she had connections in the muggle world to get the documentation she needed to get these kids adopted out. When Alice wanted the way to get documentation, Jezebel had Alice arrested by Muggle police for harrassment , and she ended up in a muggle pshychiatric facility. It took her weeks to get out.”

“And then Jezebel got to stay in business for almost thirty years. She killed over 140 of her 400 kids and got away with it.” Lucius’ voice was flat. Juno sighed and looked at her hands.

“Yes. I was finally able to make contact with a social worker and phone in an anonymous tip. The worker showed up unannounced, saw the gravestones right outside the office door and was able to shut her down. In the meanwhile, I was a researcher on the effects of certain potions on magic; and you are right, Hermione, thallium was one we studied.”

“What about the doctor?” Pansy asked.

“I was given a false name and haven’t been able to find any record of him at St Mungo’s, or anywhere else in Britain.”

“Did you check the Muggle world as well?” Juno shook her head.

“To be honest Hermione, the muggle world is just too strange for me to do any sort of research. I just don’t understand it enough. Besides, he would have to be listed as a wizarding doctor because he worked for Alice. What difference would it make if he practiced in the muggle world?” Bill suddenly saw the answer.

“Hermione has two names. For years, she has functioned as Marguerite Blakeney, but has always been Hermione Granger in the muggle world, right?” She nodded. Juno stared, and then cackled, clapping her hands together.

“Finally, after 40 years we have a new lead.”

As her guests filed into the floo, Juno McGonagall took Hermione’s hands in hers. I’ll send you what I have by way of Minerva in terms of research. I’ll ask you to make it’s secure, preferably at Hogwarts. Someone wants this information very, very badly.” She nodded, and was surprised when the woman hugged her.

“For nearly my entire life, I have blamed myself for my brother’s death. I wasn’t directly responsible, but I never pushed, never demanded answers because I was afraid to upset people. The magical community needs the answers. I need the answers.” With a departing smile, the old woman took her sister’s hand and they stepped into the fire.

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Pansy didn’t leave the next day, or the next. One day, Hermione came home and saw Pansy’s closets full and realized she had moved in. She didn’t really mind though; life with Pansy Parkinson was anything but boring, Hermione decided. The former Slytherin had a wicked sense of humor, and could make her laugh even when her research wasn’t going well. Freed from the overbearing hand of her parents, Pansy had blossomed like her namesake.

For Pansy, Hermione’s house was an oasis of calm. She could fall asleep without worrying about being awoken by her parents in a rage. She could leave her work out on her desk, and it would still be there when she returned. Her room and bathroom were beautiful and stylish, and her clothes were always neat and pressed by a happy Ruby, who was thrilled to have two witches to look after. Dinner was ready every night, and she had to admit, hanging out with Granger was way more interesting than frequenting her accustomed pubs. Lucius came over nightly, and she saw a very different side of the aloof wizard she had known for years as they ate dinner and talked about news in the magical world.

Then there was Fleur. When Pansy had first met the part veela during the TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, she had hated her on sight. Years later, the arrogant Frenchwoman had mellowed considerably (although Pansy had to admit, she had as well), and the three women became fast friends.

The howlers continued to make their way into Hermione’s daily mail, but the women now laughed at them, and heckled the writers who hadn’t bothered with using a dictionary to check their spelling. Her mysterious stalker hadn’t sent any more photos or letters, but each day she was filled with a sense of dread when the mail arrived until she knew there were no photos or threats.

Hermione had seen Lucius every night at dinner, but he was being remarkably reserved since her declaration of wanting to slow down.. She knew he was trying to be respectful and let her set the pace, but she missed the passionate side of him horribly. He seemed less playful than before, but that may be more worry than anything else. She would give anything to wake up next to him right now, wrapped in his arms. Instead she had awakened to Buttercream sitting on her chest and patting her face with a dainty white paw.

“I’m up, Butterball”, she said, pushing the chubby little kitten off her and crawling out of bed. The kitten followed her into the bath, but ran away to hide at the sound of the water. Freshly clean, she wandered downstairs to see Ruby crying and hopping from one foot to the other. She followed Ruby’s gaze and froze.


Her sitting room had been absolutely destroyed. Paintings had been slashed, feathers from her pillows and cushions blanketed the room like snow. Glass vases were smashed, and her treasured collection of tiny handcrafted potion bottles were smashed and ground into her carpet. Worst of all was what lay neatly folded on the coffee table; a Death Eater cloak and mask covered in blood.

In an envelope lying next to the mask was a photo of someone wearing the uniform pointing a wand at Hermione’s sleeping form as she lay in the nightgown she had just taken off. Then, the masked figure lifted a large carving knife and pretended to stab the sleeping form before hiding the knife under a pillow on the other side of her bed. Her cry of horror brought a bleary eyed Pansy down the stairs. When she saw the damage, she pulled Hermione to her, and threw floo powder in the fireplace calling for Harry. Hermione was starting to hyperventilate, and the room was starting to spin. Thankfully, Pansy summoned a kitchen chair and sat her in it, preserving the scene. The frizzy haired girl didn’t hear the Aurors come in, or Lucius arriving moments afterward. The same thought kept running through her mind over and over.

Dear god, the lunatic had been in her house.

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Coming up: Hermione finds a doctor’s name, and the stalker makes their next move. Can Hermione fight back?