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The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts
It's been two days since Lucius gave Hermione permission to roam the manor now they're the only guests left, except, she's yet to take advantage of it. She's not altogether sure whether everyone really has left, and if in doing as Lucius wishes by leaving her rooms, she'd be asking for punishment. It's been so long since she's been free, though, and she's just itching to turn that doorknob and explore her surroundings.
Curiosity getting the better of her, and struggling to fathom what Lucius could gain from tricking her, Hermione grabs the doorknob and turns it. Nothing happens. She opens the door and scours the dimly lit hallway, and, upon spying it empty, steps into it.
"Hello?" Hermione calls, quietly. With no response, she dares be a little more brave and trundles down the side of the corridor she knows leads to the main area of the house. She keeps to the left, not wanting to be an easier target by walking down the middle. She reaches the end of the corridor and finds herself at the staircase, which she carefully descends. With each passing second her confidence grows, for she's sure she would have at least heard someone by now if the house were still full of Death Eaters.
Hermione explores the manor at her leisure, taking in every last nook and cranny of the place. She ignores all the paintings who sneer at her as she passes, though she has half a mind to give them hell back. The rooms she checks out range from the mundane to the creative, her favourite so far being the music room. Whilst music is never a passion Hermione has held, she is sure that with a lack of anything else to do, it could be now. Then, straight after the music room, she finds the library, and her previous thoughts are abandoned. There are so many books in this room that she doesn't think she'll ever have time for another passion.
There are shelves upon shelves of books, so high they reach the ceiling, and Hermione's so busy perusing them that she doesn't notice the figure in the corner of the room move. Only when he clears his throat does she sharply turn, relaxing only when she realises it's Lucius. Three days ago, she would have ran a mile from the man, but after their initial conversation, it's clear he's no threat.
The Death Eaters have recently left, and Lucius, having fallen out of the Dark Lord's favour, was left behind to guard Hermione. They probably didn't expect him to give her the freedom that he did, but it's obvious that he doesn't support the cause anymore and is essentially trapped. There's no way out for him; he has to pretend he believes the same as he did over twenty years ago.
"I'm sorry," she starts, "I didn't know there was anyone here." She turns to leave; he may not be a threat, but she doesn't exactly want to spend more time than she has to in his company.
"Don't go," Lucius says loudly, his voice commanding enough to compel her to stay. "There's enough room for the both of us, I'm quite sure."
Hermione nods awkwardly and goes back to browsing the books. Feeling herself being watched, she makes her selection rather hastily, and is disappointed to find she's picked The Art of Seeing. Too embarrassed to put it back and choose another, she takes her book to the nearest armchair and settles down with it.
Once aware she is no longer being watched, Hermione looks up from her book (which she began rolling her eyes at before the end of the first sentence) and sneaks a glance at what Lucius is reading. It's a book she remembers reading in preparation for the dark side of the magical world, though she knows no book could ever have prepared her for this. The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts is the title, though she's surprised to see him reading such a basic book.
"Clues," Lucius says, as if reading her mind. "I'm looking for clues."
Hermione frowns. "Clues?"
"Anything to help please our Lord."
"Your Lord," Hermione says without thinking. She expects a rise in anger or a sharp tongue, but instead, an amused smile floats across Lucius' face.
"You abhor Divination." Lucius gestures towards the book in her hands. "Why are you reading about it?"
"How do you know I hate Divination?"
"I would be a fool to know nothing about you, Miss Granger."
"Perhaps," Hermione mutters. "They say Divination is the 'window to the soul', do they not? I need some soul-searching right about now."
Lucius looks at her as though he finds her absolutely fascinating. "Tell me, Miss Granger, do you believe in fate?"
"No," Hermione admits, and she's taken aback that Lucius seems to know this overwhelmingly Muggle concept. "I think we choose our own paths in life and our actions decide our future."
"Do you really have a choice in your actions, though? Surely your fate is the consequence of the actions you're forced to walk in life?"
"You're not forced to walk any path. To claim otherwise is to refuse to take responsibility for your own actions."
"It seems there is at least one thing we agree upon then, Miss Granger."
It is then that Hermione realises exactly what has just taken place. She's philosophically debated with a Death Eater, and not just any Death Eater, but the one who is currently holding her prisoner in his home. The surprise is so great that she places the book back on the shelf and flees the library, before he can say another word.
Quidditch Through the Ages
Not surprisingly, Hermione has taken to spending the majority of her time in the library. Sometimes she puts on thick robes and braves the winter air, but never for long, and she always finds the fire in the library as enticing as the books themselves. She hasn't seen Lucius since the first night she roamed the manor, which she hates to admit that she's actually disappointed about, for she enjoyed their brief intellectual discussion. She still found the entire experience bizarre, but she liked being able to speak her mind freely again.
The book she's currently reading is Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts. She can't do wandless magic, but she tries her best with some basic defensive spells as much as she can. She's in the middle of muttering a curse to herself when Lucius enters, and she immediately shuts up and blushes bright red.
"It's no use, I'm afraid," Lucius says as he selects a book and seats himself opposite her, on the other side of the fire. "The wards around the manor won't allow you to perform magic, wandless or otherwise."
How does he know? Hermione is taken aback that Lucius actually seems upset by this, but in her stubborn way, she continues reading and mumbling the spells. He may say it's no use, but she has no way of knowing whether that's actually the truth. Five minutes later, embarrassed by her mutterings and realising that Lucius is probably right (she's not felt a spark of her magic while she's been here), Hermione puts the book back. She notices, while perusing, that Lucius is flicking through a book Harry and Ron used to love: Quidditch Through The Ages. All of a sudden the past comes back to her, and she finds tears in her eyes and her heart beating ten to the dozen.
"Quidditch upsets you?"
Hermione looks away and blinks her eyes furiously, trying to will the tears away. "No. It just reminds me of... a different time."
"My apologies," Lucius says, shutting the book and placing it back on one of the shelves. Hermione is surprised at his reaction, but when she turns to question it, he is already gone.
Was his apology sincere? Or was it a cruel mockery?
Enchantment In Baking
Hermione wakes to the sound of music filling her ears, and not just any music, but Christmas music. It's so odd that she actually thinks she might still be dreaming, and pinches herself just to be sure. Confirming she's definitely awake, she quickly dresses and enters the corridor, following the sound. She's even more surprised by the elaborate Christmas decorations everywhere. They weren't there when she went to sleep last night, and it didn't seem worth it to go to such effort for only two people.
Unless they're back. Hermione freezes and stops in her tracks. In all the time she's been here, Lucius has never played music nor gone to any effort with anything, and she can't help but let the old worry come back to haunt her. She quietly tiptoes back to her room and calls the house-elf she knows serves Lucius personally.
"Are Lucius and I still the only occupants of the manor?" She asks the house-elf, who looks rather wary of her.
"Yes, Miss," Tilly, the house-elf, says quietly. "Master Draco is aways on business, and Mistress Narcissa is in a better place."
That's rather more than I asked, Hermione thinks as she sends the elf away. Draco is still alive then, and must have left the manor when the others did. Narcissa... Hermione doesn't know what to think about that piece of news. Her immediate response is to feel for Lucius, having lost his wife, and she realises this explains his melancholic behaviour perfectly.
The Christmas music drawing her attention once more, Hermione leaves her room and follows it. She passes the biggest Christmas tree she's ever seen in the entranceway, and pauses to look up at it. She has to admit it's the best she's ever seen, far surpassing the ones she saw at Hogwarts every year. Everything is green and silver, in true Slytherin style, and each decoration looks as if it cost more than all the Christmas decorations she's ever had put together.
As she continues towards the music, she takes in the green and silver that denotes Christmas is coming soon. It's so beautiful and pretty, and she doesn't understand why the decorations have been put out. The Christmas music leads her to the library, and she's seen him be anywhere near 'happy'.
"Good morning," Lucius says cheerily. "Did the music wake you?"
Hermione nods as she takes a seat by the window. She looks out on the grounds; it's cold and there's frost across the lawns, mist hovering just above. "What's with all the decorations?"
"It's the first of December." Lucius genuinely smiles at her. "We always put out our Christmas decorations on the first."
Hermione doesn't fail to notice the 'we' in that sentence. She doesn't correct him though; it would be cruel to do so. He's perfectly aware what's happened to his family. "My mum refused to put them out so early. She always waited until at least half way through the month before she'd even consider it. I always thought that was a bit of a waste, though. May as well get the most use out of them you can."
"Exactly," Lucius agrees.
"What if..." Hermione stalls, her voice catching in her throat at the thought. "What if they come back?"
Lucius' smile fades. "They won't. Not until February, at least."
"You're certain?"
"There's no doubt," Lucius says confidently. After a moment, he changes the subject, and Hermione is more than relieved. "What are you reading today?"
"I'm halfway through A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry."
"Fascinating choice." Lucius stands and comes to join her at the window.
"Maybe. It would be more so if we were more advanced."
Lucius raises an eyebrow. "You don't think we're advanced?"
"No," Hermione scoffs. "Not compared to Muggles. We're rather backward, in fact. Too many traditions, I say."
"I don't think it's the traditions that are holding us back," Lucius argues, though not at all aggressively. More like he'd rather have a reasonable discussion with her. "Perhaps our inability to accept change."
"They're one and the same!"
"You can't accurately compare us to Muggles," says Lucius, ignoring her last point. "There are many things Muggles have that we don't need, because we have magic instead. That doesn't mean we're not as advanced. On the contrary, I would say that makes us more advanced."
Hermione spent the next forty-five minutes debating whether Muggles or wizards were more advanced, and she actually enjoyed it. It was the first proper intellectual discussion she'd had in a very long time. When she was at Hogwarts, the Professors were the only ones who came close to matching her in this way, for she seemed to bore the other pupils to her dismay. Lucius, however, seems to enjoy not only her company but her opinions too, even if they are different to his own.
As she gets up to leave, she glances at the book on the end table that he'd been reading when she entered: Enchantment In Baking, and leaves the library with her brow furrowed and her mind addled. Lucius is into baking?
Bake Your Way To Success
With a rather large yawn and a little bit of excitement in her tummy, Hermione gets out of her bed on Christmas morning. She finds a gold box with a red ribbon around it on the end of her bed and eagerly opens it. It reminds her of when she was a child and allowed to open her stocking before her parents got up. Out of the box she pulls the most gorgeous red robe, and sees a note underneath asking her to 'Enjoy'. There's no doubt as to who the gift is from, and she's so excited by it that she puts it on straight away.
She takes a look in the mirror, and for the first time in a long time, actually likes the woman looking back at her. Excited about what the rest of the day could hold, Hermione leaves her room and hears the sound of Christmas music once more. Every day since the first of December Lucius has played it pretty much non-stop, and she thought she'd have been sick of it by now, but thankfully not. This time the music is not coming from the library, but the kitchen, where she can also smell something extremely delicious.
When she enters, Hermione doesn't think she's ever been more surprised. There, amongst the house-elves readily preparing Christmas dinner, is Lucius. He's wearing a green apron, charming a whisk with the book Bake Your Way To Success open in front of him. The sight is so funny that Hermione can't help but laugh, catching his attention. He's clearly embarrassed and steps away from the counter, though that really doesn't put him in the clear.
"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione manages to ask between giggles.
"I was trying to make Christmas Pudding," he says rather irritably.
"Why?"
"Because this book," he gestures to the flour covered page in front of him, "says Muggles love it."
Hermione smiles. "Thanks, but... I don't like Christmas Pudding. Never have."
Lucius mutters something under his breath and takes his apron off, throwing it on the counter.
"Thank you for the robe."
"You look stunning."
"I'm sorry, I haven't got anything for you..."
"Understandably." Lucius leaves the kitchen and Hermione follows. He makes his way to the parlour, where there are already drinks awaiting them. "The robe is nothing special," he says as he sits down. "I just saw it in a shop window and it reminded me of you."
"Either way," Hermione says quietly. "It's appreciated."
"Christmas Dinner will be served at three." Lucius changes the subject as he takes a sip of his drink. Hermione has yet to taste hers. "May as well go all out. I don't see this ever happening again."
Hermione murmurs in agreement, but right now, she doesn't really want to think about that. Instead, she starts a discussion she knows they will both enjoy, giving them time away from their true problems to focus on themselves and each other. As Hermione listens and takes in his views, as he does hers, she realises that in many ways, Lucius is her intellectual equal. Everything else aside, he is a knowledgeable and capable wizard. If things were different, she's sure they would have got on rather well.
For now, though, Hermione is just happy to spend her time in his company, knowing that for at least the next two months, she's safe. After that, whatever happens is anyones guess, but she'll always have the memories of their time together, and unlike previously thought, she won't see that as a bad thing.