Hermione’s Revenge, Lucius’s Peace
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,101
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,101
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Hermione’s Revenge, Lucius’s Peace
A/N: This is only a baby plot bunny, one day he will grow up to be a big, strong plot bunny and will one day mate with a lady plot bunny to produce a multi-chapter fic… but he’s only a baby, thus a one shot before his Mummy puts him back in the nest with all his little brothers and sisters; Daddy plot bunny is busy foraging for spare brain cells to nibble on…
And I have a suspicion that my revision has rendered me ever-so-slightly mad… oh well, 2 exams down, 2 to go…
Usual disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter Universe, Lucius Malfoy would be permanently naked, wearing a little leather collar with ‘Property of Utopia’ on the tag, and his lead would be attached to a hook on my headboard.
Now, seeing as that never happened, we can safely assume that I do not own the Harry Potter Universe – and unfortunately, I don’t own Lucius either. *sulks*.
***
Hermione’s Revenge, Lucius’s Peace:
In the calm that followed the final battle many fell to Morpheus in exhaustion; Hermione Granger, however, was not one of those people. She sat gazing from a window in the Ravenclaw common room (where everyone was being housed for the night), wrapped in a standard-issue Hogwarts blanket, nursing a cooling mug of hot chocolate.
“What a mess.” She whispered to the warm night.
“Talking to yourself is reported to be the first sign of madness, Miss Granger.” Lucius Malfoy said from behind her. He wore a pair of plain white cotton pyjamas and a comfortable dark green dressing gown. He clasped chapped fingers around a mug of steaming chamomile tea.
“I think I’ve been mad for quite a while.” Hermione sighed, sipping at the sweet liquid.
“Haven’t we all…” Lucius trailed off, inhaling the fragrant steam, “Narcissa told me to make peace before… before…” the proud man was unable to finish the sentence, staring blindly into the night sky as he lost himself in his wife’s last words.
“Peace is such a strange feeling, I feel lost now – I don’t have a role to play any more.” Hermione said wistfully, suddenly remembering her manners: “I’m so sorry for the loss of your wife.”
“So am I, Miss Granger, so am I.” he looked thoughtful for a moment, peering at the stars in the clear sky, “There is a saying: behind every successful wizard is a wonderful witch… and I had not realised it was true, until now.” Malfoy replied, taking a seat on the cold windowsill and pressing his sore back against the soothing cool of the pane of glass.
“Yeah, muggles have an equivalent saying too. My Dad used to tell my Mum it most days…” Hermione trailed off, knowing the chances of her parents’ memory being returned was incredibly slim.
The two powerful magical people sat in melancholy for some time, each sipping at their beverages, losing their mind to the turmoil of thoughts and raw memories.
***
“Miss Granger, I came to make peace; I have committed many wrongs against you, and thus give you an opportunity to retaliate and take revenge without fighting back.” Lucius said gracefully, bowing and handing over his spare wand, Voldemort having destroyed his main one.
“I can do anything?” Hermione said, shocked.
“Indeed, any spell, any curse, any hex, any action – it is for you to decide my punishment for my transgression against you.” He replied, standing as tall as his remaining pride would let him.
“There is something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and that would make me quite happy… sit down for me.” Hermione prompted, wrapping the blanket more securely around her shoulders as she swapped places with the tormented wizard.
“One question, Miss Granger, will this hurt?” Lucius winced.
“Only your pride, not physically.” Hermione smiled gently.
“There isn’t much of that left to injure anymore.” He whispered, closing his eyes as he felt her step closer and put her hands on his head.
“I’ve been so jealous of this gorgeous long hair of yours for years! So…” she said, gently combing her fingers through a few strands before digging in her fingers and proceeding to make a thorough tangle of his shining locks.
“After all I’ve done to you: all the insults; the hexes; the danger you were put in; Draco’s actions, influenced by my opinions… and you take revenge by making a bird’s nest of my hair?” Lucius said, utterly stunned. He had expected pain, hexes, demands of my fortune… not this.
Draco stood to one side, his eyes horrendously bloodshot after his tears for his Mother; he’d witnessed her death, how she slipped away calmly and graciously in the hospital wing. Healers had done everything they could, but there was no hope, whatever Voldemort had cursed her with could not be undone. Narcissa wasn’t innocent of the war, but she had never been an active participant for either side; she had begged her husband to keep Draco safe, her baby, the only one to be born out of the three pregnancies they had.
“Mother asked me to do the same thing before she… she went… I’m sorry Granger for being a fucking arse for years and years…”
“Language, Draco, there is a lady present. And remember your manners, she is Miss Granger.” Lucius scolded gently; they were the first words Draco had spoken since Narcissa’s passing, so he did not wish to reproach too harshly.
“I’ve never claimed to be a lady.” Hermione said, a slight smile on her face.
“What do you want to do to me in revenge?” Draco said, sitting down next to his Father. The two were almost identical, matching nightwear, similar expressions of grief, alike mannerisms. The only difference was age and experience with life.
“Wasn’t breaking your nose in third year enough?” Hermione teased.
“You said it was a bludger!” Lucius said, struggling to believe his son had lied to him; unlike what the general public thought, Lucius and Draco did have a reasonably healthy Father-son relationship; though, reasonably was the more prominent word in more recent years.
“No – just a very angry witch whom I had insulted… and I don’t think it counts as revenge as it happened ages ago.” Draco said quietly.
“Alright, you asked for it, Malfoy.” Hermione said, digging her fingers once more into platinum hair, “I think you are solely keeping the hair gel manufacturers in business! This is solid!” Hermione giggled, making a huge effort to destroy the younger Malfoy’s hair style.
“Here, you’re so cold!” Hermione pulled away and handed Draco the blanket, walking away in a Slytherin quidditch shirt that fell to her knees and a ‘pair’ of socks that had once been Dobby’s, whoever she had borrowed the shirt from was evidently rather tall and quite a bit wider than her.
“If you need to talk to someone, come and find me and I’ll listen and not judge. Get some rest.” Hermione moved to carefully hug Draco and Lucius, giving each a light kiss on the cheek as she walked away.
“Miss Granger is quite extraordinary, isn’t she?” Lucius said, placing his hand to his matted hair and carefully attempting to untangle the mess it had been forced into.
“I never noticed.” Draco said, snuggling into the warm blanket and pulling his legs up to his chest. “Father… what did Mother tell you when she whispered in your ear?” Draco whispered.
“She told me to grieve for a little while and move on in life – to find someone else and be happy. Find a witch to keep me strong; perhaps give you the siblings you used to ask for at Christmas and for birthdays… I think she was giving me permission, so I would not feel guilty in the future.” He told his son, rummaging in the copy of his son’s pyjamas to find a handkerchief to wipe away the tears that fell.
“I don’t think you’ll have to look too far.” Draco said, slightly scheming, she’s bringing you another cup of chamomile tea…” Draco trailed off, watching as Hermione handed over the mug and began to gently tease the knots from his Father’s hair.
“What are you doing, Miss Granger?”
“I looked a you from over there and decided you looked a bit of a twit like this, so I’ve come to sort out the mess I made of your lovely hair.” She replied, gently teasing out the snags with a comb.
“You do not have to do this.” Lucius replied.
“No, but I will – I’m not one to hold grudges. Plus I wanted your advice on the wizarding housing market, I need somewhere to live.” Hermione began, explaining the situation with her parents.
Draco easily heard his Father’s thoughts: ‘There is plenty of room at the Manor, Miss Granger; and perhaps a permanent position in the future – once I have moved on from grief.’
And I have a suspicion that my revision has rendered me ever-so-slightly mad… oh well, 2 exams down, 2 to go…
Usual disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter Universe, Lucius Malfoy would be permanently naked, wearing a little leather collar with ‘Property of Utopia’ on the tag, and his lead would be attached to a hook on my headboard.
Now, seeing as that never happened, we can safely assume that I do not own the Harry Potter Universe – and unfortunately, I don’t own Lucius either. *sulks*.
***
Hermione’s Revenge, Lucius’s Peace:
In the calm that followed the final battle many fell to Morpheus in exhaustion; Hermione Granger, however, was not one of those people. She sat gazing from a window in the Ravenclaw common room (where everyone was being housed for the night), wrapped in a standard-issue Hogwarts blanket, nursing a cooling mug of hot chocolate.
“What a mess.” She whispered to the warm night.
“Talking to yourself is reported to be the first sign of madness, Miss Granger.” Lucius Malfoy said from behind her. He wore a pair of plain white cotton pyjamas and a comfortable dark green dressing gown. He clasped chapped fingers around a mug of steaming chamomile tea.
“I think I’ve been mad for quite a while.” Hermione sighed, sipping at the sweet liquid.
“Haven’t we all…” Lucius trailed off, inhaling the fragrant steam, “Narcissa told me to make peace before… before…” the proud man was unable to finish the sentence, staring blindly into the night sky as he lost himself in his wife’s last words.
“Peace is such a strange feeling, I feel lost now – I don’t have a role to play any more.” Hermione said wistfully, suddenly remembering her manners: “I’m so sorry for the loss of your wife.”
“So am I, Miss Granger, so am I.” he looked thoughtful for a moment, peering at the stars in the clear sky, “There is a saying: behind every successful wizard is a wonderful witch… and I had not realised it was true, until now.” Malfoy replied, taking a seat on the cold windowsill and pressing his sore back against the soothing cool of the pane of glass.
“Yeah, muggles have an equivalent saying too. My Dad used to tell my Mum it most days…” Hermione trailed off, knowing the chances of her parents’ memory being returned was incredibly slim.
The two powerful magical people sat in melancholy for some time, each sipping at their beverages, losing their mind to the turmoil of thoughts and raw memories.
***
“Miss Granger, I came to make peace; I have committed many wrongs against you, and thus give you an opportunity to retaliate and take revenge without fighting back.” Lucius said gracefully, bowing and handing over his spare wand, Voldemort having destroyed his main one.
“I can do anything?” Hermione said, shocked.
“Indeed, any spell, any curse, any hex, any action – it is for you to decide my punishment for my transgression against you.” He replied, standing as tall as his remaining pride would let him.
“There is something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and that would make me quite happy… sit down for me.” Hermione prompted, wrapping the blanket more securely around her shoulders as she swapped places with the tormented wizard.
“One question, Miss Granger, will this hurt?” Lucius winced.
“Only your pride, not physically.” Hermione smiled gently.
“There isn’t much of that left to injure anymore.” He whispered, closing his eyes as he felt her step closer and put her hands on his head.
“I’ve been so jealous of this gorgeous long hair of yours for years! So…” she said, gently combing her fingers through a few strands before digging in her fingers and proceeding to make a thorough tangle of his shining locks.
“After all I’ve done to you: all the insults; the hexes; the danger you were put in; Draco’s actions, influenced by my opinions… and you take revenge by making a bird’s nest of my hair?” Lucius said, utterly stunned. He had expected pain, hexes, demands of my fortune… not this.
Draco stood to one side, his eyes horrendously bloodshot after his tears for his Mother; he’d witnessed her death, how she slipped away calmly and graciously in the hospital wing. Healers had done everything they could, but there was no hope, whatever Voldemort had cursed her with could not be undone. Narcissa wasn’t innocent of the war, but she had never been an active participant for either side; she had begged her husband to keep Draco safe, her baby, the only one to be born out of the three pregnancies they had.
“Mother asked me to do the same thing before she… she went… I’m sorry Granger for being a fucking arse for years and years…”
“Language, Draco, there is a lady present. And remember your manners, she is Miss Granger.” Lucius scolded gently; they were the first words Draco had spoken since Narcissa’s passing, so he did not wish to reproach too harshly.
“I’ve never claimed to be a lady.” Hermione said, a slight smile on her face.
“What do you want to do to me in revenge?” Draco said, sitting down next to his Father. The two were almost identical, matching nightwear, similar expressions of grief, alike mannerisms. The only difference was age and experience with life.
“Wasn’t breaking your nose in third year enough?” Hermione teased.
“You said it was a bludger!” Lucius said, struggling to believe his son had lied to him; unlike what the general public thought, Lucius and Draco did have a reasonably healthy Father-son relationship; though, reasonably was the more prominent word in more recent years.
“No – just a very angry witch whom I had insulted… and I don’t think it counts as revenge as it happened ages ago.” Draco said quietly.
“Alright, you asked for it, Malfoy.” Hermione said, digging her fingers once more into platinum hair, “I think you are solely keeping the hair gel manufacturers in business! This is solid!” Hermione giggled, making a huge effort to destroy the younger Malfoy’s hair style.
“Here, you’re so cold!” Hermione pulled away and handed Draco the blanket, walking away in a Slytherin quidditch shirt that fell to her knees and a ‘pair’ of socks that had once been Dobby’s, whoever she had borrowed the shirt from was evidently rather tall and quite a bit wider than her.
“If you need to talk to someone, come and find me and I’ll listen and not judge. Get some rest.” Hermione moved to carefully hug Draco and Lucius, giving each a light kiss on the cheek as she walked away.
“Miss Granger is quite extraordinary, isn’t she?” Lucius said, placing his hand to his matted hair and carefully attempting to untangle the mess it had been forced into.
“I never noticed.” Draco said, snuggling into the warm blanket and pulling his legs up to his chest. “Father… what did Mother tell you when she whispered in your ear?” Draco whispered.
“She told me to grieve for a little while and move on in life – to find someone else and be happy. Find a witch to keep me strong; perhaps give you the siblings you used to ask for at Christmas and for birthdays… I think she was giving me permission, so I would not feel guilty in the future.” He told his son, rummaging in the copy of his son’s pyjamas to find a handkerchief to wipe away the tears that fell.
“I don’t think you’ll have to look too far.” Draco said, slightly scheming, she’s bringing you another cup of chamomile tea…” Draco trailed off, watching as Hermione handed over the mug and began to gently tease the knots from his Father’s hair.
“What are you doing, Miss Granger?”
“I looked a you from over there and decided you looked a bit of a twit like this, so I’ve come to sort out the mess I made of your lovely hair.” She replied, gently teasing out the snags with a comb.
“You do not have to do this.” Lucius replied.
“No, but I will – I’m not one to hold grudges. Plus I wanted your advice on the wizarding housing market, I need somewhere to live.” Hermione began, explaining the situation with her parents.
Draco easily heard his Father’s thoughts: ‘There is plenty of room at the Manor, Miss Granger; and perhaps a permanent position in the future – once I have moved on from grief.’