Harvest Moon

To Voracious Reader, Lex, Heidi191976, Zets, bluezauza and Tazzy, thank you so much for the reviews. I sincerely appreciate them.



To Margaritama and Citten, If almost twenty years on a certain scene has taught me anything it's that the people you would never in a million years dream would be submissives usually are. Not saying everyone in a powerful position is but there are enough to make it feasible.



Oh, and Lex, the Gilded Lily is a combination of several places I've been to. The staircase is from a club I used to frequent called Velvet.



To everyone reading and reviewing, I hope you enjoy.

***





Hermione stood fidgeting at the front door of Malfoy Manor. It had been a decade since she’d entered this place and every memory she had of being there was a bad one. Even Draco’s urgings hadn’t been enough to get her to come visit when his apartment was being refurbished and he’d been staying with his parents. She’d raised her fist to knock several times and had recoiled before making contact with the door. Damn it, she was no longer a teenager trapped by several dark wizards. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and she would not let what had happened to her in this house before deter her from her investigation. But she couldn’t help the feeling of unease as she finally raised and lowered the knocker firmly. She tamped everything down and got a firm grip on the wave of residual fear that threatened to overwhelm her.



The sick, queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach only intensified when the door swung open. However, Lucius wasn’t the one opening the door. Of course not, Hermione, she chided herself, the very thought of a man like Lucius Malfoy opening his own door was ludicrous. Tweak the house elf blinked up at her, looking startled and more than a bit frightened. She pushed the door wider and allowed Hermione entry into the main hallway, closing the door behind her.



“Hello, Miss,” she said, her voice quivering. “Is there something Tweak forgot to tell Miss?”



“Oh, no, Tweak, you did very well, thank you,” Hermione said, trying to reassure the obviously frightened elf.



The little elf looked pleased then wary. “Is Miss here to see the Master?”



“Yes, I am, Tweak. Would you take me to him please?”



“Tweak is sorry, Miss, but the Master is busy,” she said apologetically.



“It really is very important that I speak to him, Tweak,” Hermione said.



“Tweak could tell the Master that Miss wants to see him,” Tweak said, sounding very nervous about interrupting the elder Malfoy. “Miss will have to wait here.”



“That’s fine, Tweak. Thank you,” Hermione said.



Tweak had just started off to find Lucius when an odd noise from one of the doorways stopped her. She turned and glared at a spot just to Hermione’s left and made shooing motions with her hands. Hermione turned to look where Tweak was motioning and saw another house elf. But where Tweak was neatly groomed and dressed, for a house elf anyway, this one looked absolutely wild. There were small scars lacing the house elf’s features and what she could see of its’ arms. It was covered with a heavily embroidered midnight blue pillow case that almost reached its feet. It also held a carved stick like a staff and was looking at her in a way that made her decidedly uncomfortable. She wondered vaguely if house elves could go feral if left to their own devices long enough. It pointed the stick at her and the words he, Hermione could finally tell it was a male, spoke were very clear and rang through the large foyer even though the words themselves made little sense.



“Blood and mud. Covered in it. Crawling to get away. Two paths. Not clear. Back later,” he said before turning around and wandering off.



Hermione cast a puzzled look toward Tweak, who was looking positively shell shocked. She shook it off and looked at Hermione apologetically.



“Tweak is sorry, Miss. Her brother is . . . not right,” she said, pointing to her own head. “But he is seeing things others don’t.”



“What she means is that Bubble is a seer, Miss Granger,” Lucius Malfoy’s voice said. Hermione watched him come up the hallway and into the main foyer. Dressed in a simple white button down with Mandarin collar, sleeves rolled to the elbow, black trousers that hugged the muscles of his legs closely and black boots he looked positively edible.



“Is that even possible? For a house elf, I mean,” Hermione said, trying to drag her brain and her eyes away from how very well those pants fit him.



“Every intelligent species I know of has seers, Miss Granger. Surely you know that. Why would house elves be any different? Now, might I ask what brings you here this late in the evening and without my son in tow?”



“I noticed something odd that you’d said during our interview, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione began.



“Lucius.”



“I beg your pardon?”



“My name is Lucius. You and I are well past formalities, don’t you think?”



“If you insist, Lucius,” Hermione said briskly. “When I informed you who was found on your property you said you hadn’t recognized her. To the best of my knowledge, her body had already been moved from the scene when you came onto it.”



Lucius chuckled a little. “Really, did you think Tweak hadn’t informed me there was a woman’s dead body on my newly acquired property? I believe she told you such in her interview.”



“She did. But she said that she’d sent up the general alarm first and then contacted you about it.”



“Yes. She did. I arrived a few moments after the first responder’s unit of the aurors. Since I presumed they’d have been more than happy to arrest anyone they found there I left before they spotted me and waited until you and my son came on scene. I barely had a glimpse of Dawn’s body so it’s reasonable that I didn’t recognize her.”



“Why didn’t you tell me or Draco this at the start?”



“Because, I hardly thought it was relevant.”



Hermione’s eyes narrowed, she knew he was hiding something. Maybe not being the murderer himself but he was definitely hiding something. She’d opened her mouth to say something else when all thought was interrupted by another person entering the room.



“Are you annoying law enforcement again, Lucius?” a woman said, coming into the foyer. She was at least as tall as Lucius and her long blonde hair reached just below her waist. She was poised, graceful and delicately beautiful. Definitely the sort of woman Lucius was well known to associate with. It wouldn’t have even been odd had she not been barefoot and wearing a bathrobe with the letters LM monogrammed into the silk. Added to the fact that Hermione recognized her instantly as the muggle head of the Magickal and Muggle Interrelations Department.



“I’m simply answering questions, Ara,” he said, turning to smile at her. “I presume you know Arabella Smythe, Hermione.”



“I know of her but we’ve never formally met before,” Hermione said.



The other woman strode forward and offered her hand. “I presume you’re Hermione Granger. Lucius said you were lovely but he hardly did you justice. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Though it’s certainly odd circumstances. It isn’t often Lucius and I get our playtime interrupted.”



“So you two are . . .” Hermione left the question hanging.



Arabella smiled. “We’re playmates, not steady lovers, if that’s what you were curious about. Lucius, dear, may I use your shower? I hardly think either of us are in the mood to finish what was started earlier.”



“Sad but true, Ara. Dear Hermione has an odd tendency to interrupt my playtime. I wonder if it’s a sign? By all means use the shower. You certainly know the way by now.” He turned to Hermione, one eyebrow going up in question. “Was there anything else you’d like of me?”



“Not at the moment,” she growled, stomping toward the door. “Just don’t leave the country. I’ll have more questions for you later.”



“Wouldn’t dream of leaving just as things are getting interesting.”