Desire

It’s Wednesday morning at St. Mungo’s and the day shift of healers, interns and nurses are apparating in. On the elevator up Hermione finds herself squashed between a dumpy, blonde witch and a tall gaunt healer. The smell of coffee and ill-advised perfume is making her stomach queasy.

‘Miss Granger, you’ve got a parcel,’ says one of the secretaries, when she appears.

‘Who, me?’

‘Yes, I put it on the desk for you.’

‘Do you know who sent it?’ asks Hermione warily.

‘It was delivered through the internal system,’ the nurse answers with a raised eyebrow.

‘Oh, thankyou.’ she ignores the look the nurse gives her, who obviously thinks she is dating a member of the faculty.

It’s a plain enough parcel. It is wrapped neatly in satin paper, nestled next to her patient papers. Approaching cautiously, Hermione takes out her wand, and places it in front of her. She has had too much experience of death threats, working for the Order the previous year, to be caught unawares. After a few spells, she is certain it contains no harm and unwraps it. Out slides a black velvet box.

She opens it, inside there is a silver pendant and a small card written in gentle calligraphy.

Dear Hermione,

You hold a special place in my heart. I hope this locket will look as perfect on you as I imagine from my bedside table. My last day in the hospital is Thursday.

Lucius

The pendant is exquisite. She holds it up to the light. On a slender silver chain, a small glass sphere is suspended. Inside, dozens of pink diamonds float gently in the space, glittering peacefully like tiny stars.

‘That must have cost a fortune,’ interrupts the secretary, who is peering over her shoulder in awe.

The nagging suspicions, the doubts she has carried since Friday night, subside almost immediately. The secretary sees the look on her face and can’t resist a piece of gossip to pass along the hospital grapevine.

‘Who’s it from?’ she asks conversationally.

‘Oh, you don’t know him,’ Hermione says, with a breathless giggle, but rushes off, avoiding any more interrogation.

She feels very light as she glides along the sterile tiles. It is a wonderful morning, a fresh new day. Her heart beats a bit faster as she floats towards ward 20. It was all so wonderful.

She steels herself, and is about to open the door when she catches the sound of muffled conversation coming from the room. Her curiosity piqued she bends in closer to eavesdrop, Lucius had never had any visitors.

‘What are you doing here Lucius…’ the voice is course and annoyed sounding.

‘Recuperating my health, Nott.’ She recognizes Lucius’s voice.

[Nott, Nott the death eater?]

‘You remember our pledge Lucius, to help our fellows in times of need, and if there was ever a time for need, it is now,’ Nott continues.

‘Keep your voice down,’ Lucius’s voice sounds strained.

‘So you’re just going to turn your back on our comrades, even after we’ve fought under the same banner for so many years, through thick and thin?’ the anger in Nott’s voice is unmistakeable.

‘Yes I know my obligations to our comrades, but before anything happens I’ve got fix my leg.’

‘But you’re leaving tomorrow.’

‘But first I have some strings to tie up.’

‘What do you mean.’

‘Their personal matters, Nott, none of your business,’

‘Been having some fun with the staff are you?’ Nott laughs, ‘Up to your usual tricks, eh?’

[Hermione gasps]

‘Among other things, yes.’

[Hermione is only numbly aware that her fingernails are digging into the palms of her hand]

‘Well with who?’

‘Granger.’

‘Isn’t she one of those brats we fought at the Ministry, she works here?’

‘She’s my nurse,’ snickers Lucius softly.

[The twist in her stomach tightens]

‘Oh really, you couldn’t resist could you.’

‘She looks good in that uniform.’

‘Lucius, you’ve sunk to new lows.’

‘Well, Narcissa’s gone, and a man get’s lonely,’

‘But with a Mudblood?’

‘Enough, Nott, Muffiato.’ Their voices disappear.

Hermione finds it hard to breathe. The words swim in her mind, and she has to grip the door handle tightly to stop herself falling. Her hearted seems to have stopped beating. Everything is silent, except for the choked gasps fighting their way out of her throat.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione glides into ward 20, serene as ever, with a smile firmly in place. The pain of betrayal had lapsed into a strange numbness.

‘Goodmorning,’ she says cheerily.

‘Goodmorning, my dear,’ Lucius reaches for her, she allows him to kiss her on the cheek.

‘I’ve brought you breakfast as you like it.’

‘Did you like the gift I sent you?’ he inquires, already tucking into his food.

‘Oh yes, I received it this morning.’ She can feel her façade cracking, but she wills away the burning behind her eyes.

‘Well?’

‘Sorry, a Mudblood like me isn’t worthy of it,’ she takes it out from her pocket, the silver chain slithering in her hands. The diamonds bouncing softly inside. She hands it to him, noting with satisfaction the stunned look on his face. He doesn’t move.

Unceremoniously she dumps it into the steaming porridge. It swallows it up greedily.

‘What are you doing?’ Lucius asks angrily.

‘Doing what I should I have done ages ago, walking away,’ with as much dignity as Hermione Granger can muster, she takes shaking steps towards the door, towards safety.

‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ he gets up, walking solidly up to her, and grasping her arm, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s just this goddamn uniform isn’t it?’ she shouts, ‘Isn’t it?’

‘What are talking about Hermione.’

Something fragile in her snaps, and she bellows into his ear ‘You bastard, Lucius Malfoy, how could, I mean why would you do this to me, what the hell is wrong with you, did you ever, no of course you didn’t,’ she shudders, ‘you strung me along, like your newest conquest, you bastard,’ her voice turns into an angry hiss, ‘well let me tell you, I’m not you’re plaything, you disgusting, perverted bastard’. She wrenches her hand out of his, causing him to lose balance and topple against the bed.

‘How could I have ever allowed myself to a death eater.’ With one last scream, she walks away, away from the man she ever truly loved had ever truly been intimate with, even if for only a week. She leaves him sprawled on the floor, clutching his leg. At this moment in time, she despises herself.