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Teacher, Death Eater, Soldier, Spy by dionde [Reviews - 4]

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Chapter 4

“To the summer holidays!” Lucius raised his glass, and Hermione joined him gladly. “I haven't appreciated them properly since I left school, so it is time I give them their due.”

“Parents usually hail them with a little less enthusiasm than us teachers.” The champagne was excellent, but she hadn't expected anything less.

“I can't imagine you being too keen on leaving school behind, either, from what Draco told me over the years.” This was new. So far, Lucius had made it clear he regretted his past (or so he said, anyway), but they had steered clear of discussing anything that might turn controversial.

Hermione snorted. “It's probably best you don't know what I told my parents about Draco.”

“Most of that was my fault.” He let his finger follow the curve of the glass all the way down to the tablecloth, his eyes caught somewhere in the past. “If I hadn't filled his head with lies and delusions of grandeur, chances are he would have ended up on the right side. He never believed in the Dark Lord in his heart of hearts, you know.”

Hermione's throat was suddenly dry, despite the aftertaste of the champagne still lingering. “But you did?”

She had to ask. In this moment, with the light of the setting July sun turning his hair into molten gold, Lucius seemed softer and sadder than she ever had seen him, and she finally believed she was allowed to see the man as he actually was.

“Oh, yes.” The bitterness in his voice was new, too. “Hook, line and sinker. I didn't even stop to consider why our glorious leader didn't account for his own parentage. All I could see was that our position was under threat. Not for one second did I doubt that I was entitled to take whatever I wanted.”

For once in her life Hermione didn't ask any questions. She simply waited, the silence punctuated only by the sleepy buzz of bumblebees settling in for the night.

Her patience was rewarded when he continued, unprompted. “Even in our stupidity, we could see that the world as we knew it was under threat from the Muggles. They seemed to encroach everywhere, getting more numerous every year. We didn't see Muggle-borns as our key to understanding the Muggle world, but rather as another threat to our very existence.” Lucius threw back the contents of his glass, as if to clear a bad taste from his mouth. “To my younger self, responding to the threat with world domination seemed perfectly logical. I can only hope Draco inherited Narcissa's brains, or we can kiss the next generation goodbye.”

Hermione laughed, despite herself. “I can give you the verdict when Scorpius starts at Hogwarts in a few years.”

“Do.” Lucius smiled, looking like himself again – or at least the version Hermione had got used to over the last few months.




“Here he is, our boy! How was Bognor Regis?” Filius pulled out a chair for Severus, beaming with honest pleasure, and the latter couldn't very well turn him down.

“Wet.” Snape shrugged off his cloak, drops of rain still clinging to the folds.

“And the Potioneers' conference?” Hermione asked from her place on the other side of the table, pushing the teapot towards him.

“Dull. The same faces, only older.” He looked around for the sugar tin – usually Minerva was hogging it, but she was currently enjoying the Mediterranean sunshine and had surrendered her claim temporarily.

“Good thing you were there to cheer them up, eh?” Rolanda said.

“I did demolish Hawkins' latest theory about asphodel acting as a binder. The man is an imbecile.”

“There you go. Maybe there'll be one less face next year, then.”

Severus glared at Rolanda, but the whole staffroom could tell he was only pretending to be annoyed. The missing sugar had been located beneath Filius' newspaper. Severus' shoulder relaxed visibly as he drank his tea, complete with three teaspoons of sugar. Hermione released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Finally things were entirely as they should be.

“Ho! What's this, Hermione?” Filius had returned to his paper, and apparently found something he thought deserved a wider audience.

“What is what?” She didn't think she had done anything to end up in the paper recently, but then it was silly season. Last year they'd done a two-page spread on what Harry was wearing to the beach, to his disgust.

“I didn't realise you had a new fling – Lucius Malfoy, no less! Not who I would have assumed you'd pick, but then you always came with a dash of the unexpected.”

Filius spread out his copy of the Daily Prophet on the table for everyone to see, open at the headline “Ex-Death Eater and Gryffindor's Golden Girl – Malfoy Snares Granger!” In smaller print it said “Auror Office Denies Rumours Of Unforgivables – Has Potter's Best Friend Finally Lost Her Marbles?”

“Oh, fuck,” Hermione said, but she was drowned out by the reaction of her colleagues.

“Brilliant! They've gone completely around the bend this time.” Rolanda tried to snatch the paper, but Poppy was pulling hard in the other direction.

“'Spotted leaving a select establishment' – have you been to Watt's, Hermione? What was it like? Do they really have a geyser in the bathroom, like it said in Witch Weekly?”

Poppy was a fast reader, but Filius got a head start. “They've got lots of details, you'd get a small fortune if you take them to court for libel. Next year's holiday fund, guaranteed!”

“I doubt that. One generally has to prove allegations have no foundation in fact, and our esteemed colleague is hardly in a position to do so.” Severus hadn't joined the scramble, but he still seemed to know exactly what the article said.

“You mean it's true?” For some reason, Rolanda was turning to Severus rather than Hermione for confirmation.

“That I've been meeting Lucius Malfoy? Yes, it is.” Hermione tried to reclaim some initiative, but it was far too late. Imagining a version of the same discussion playing out at the breakfast table across the wizarding world, she winced. It wasn't that she cared what people thought – she just didn't care for them to dissect her private life over their morning cuppa.

Poppy looked at her, aghast. “But I thought –“

“Yes, yes, he's a big bad Death Eater.” Hermione cut across Severus, who probably was itching to throw about a stinging remark concerning her poor taste in men. “Reformed, but still. I've clearly got a problem with the lack of excitement in my life, but what's a woman to do? I just didn't expect it to be plastered all over the Prophet.”

“You didn't think anyone would be interested in Hermione Granger hanging out with Lucius Malfoy?” Sarah Fawcett had only been teaching Ancient Runes for a few years, but she wasn't stupid.

“I didn't think they would find out,” Hermione clarified, trying to redeem herself somewhat. She wondered what had happened to Lucius' understanding with the editor.

Finally, she became aware of the owl picking at her elbow, and absently fed it half a sausage as she untied a letter with familiar handwriting from its leg.

My very dear Ms Granger,

I'm afraid the dragon is out of the cave – the summer staff at the Prophet seem to have been improperly briefed, and decided to publish without consulting their editor. Rest assured I will ensure they will be damned for their impudence.

My sincere apologies for any inconvenience this may cause you. Should you desire to issue a public denial, I will arrange for a suitable witch to come forward and confirm she had been taking Polyjuice Potion before appearing with me in public.

I will not permit this unfortunate incident to restrict your options in any way, and I sincerely hope you will not accord it a moment's thought beyond brief amusement at the folly of your fellow wizards, who seem to attach such weight to someone's dinner arrangements.

Yours (as ever)
L


Hermione was painfully aware of five sets of eyes observing her every move (the excitement had passed Hagrid completely by, as he tucked into his third mountain of eggs and bacon). She rose abruptly, mumbling something about lesson plans, and almost ran out of the room. It wasn't until she reached the sanctity of her office – thank heavens no students were around – that she had the leisure to unpick why Lucius' missive had her in tears. She blew her nose loudly, to signal a return to her normal prosaic self, and thought.

It was the kindness in his letter that got to her. His concern was tangible, and the proffered solution would surely turn him into a laughing stock if it went ahead, as well as getting him into trouble with the Ministry of Magic. A former Death Eater having someone impersonating a war hero would certainly get their backs up.

If Lucius was sincere, it changed everything.

She suddenly noticed that the daylight had gone, and looked out the window. Normally Hermione had a nice view of the lake, but today her large bay window was obscured by a mass of feathers and claws. Apparently the rest of the wizarding world had been reading their morning paper, too.

Further introspection would have to wait as she braced herself for the onslaught. This wasn’t the first time; Affronted in Aberystwyth and Disgusted in Scunthorpe had made their views known when she broke up with Ron. She could only imagine what they had to say about her apparent decision to replace him with Lucius Malfoy.




“May I?” Hermione peeked around the door into the Potions classroom, where Severus was busy rearranging the glass jars lining the wall, banishing any dust with his wand as he went along. These last ten years, he had only been teaching the six- and seventh-years, but it was still very much his classroom. Pettever, who taught the younger students, wouldn't do anything as rash as dusting without Severus' approval.

“Since when do you bother to ask?” He still had his back turned to her. Most of the jars which he suddenly seemed hell bent on organising had been there when Hermione started at Hogwarts, so they couldn't be that interesting.

“I want to ask you for a favour.” Hermione learnt years ago to use her own strengths rather than trying to out-Slytherin the Head of Slytherin. Even so, it had taken her three cups of tea to build up the courage for a trip to the dungeons.

“I'm not going to replace you on the Parent Outreach committee, so don't bother asking. Wasting my youth on this institution comes with precious few perks. I'm not giving up any of them.” Severus turned slightly, giving her an excellent profile view of his hooked nose.

“It's to do with the business at breakfast.” During term time, when mealtimes constituted less of a social occasion and more of an exercise in constant vigilance and attempts to spot whatever idiocy the students were up to that day, Hermione came down here at least once a week. Ordinarily, her declared purpose was intelligent conversation, not favours, so of course Severus already knew she wanted something.

Faced with stony silence, she continued. “Would you mind very much if I asked you to find out what –“ Was there no way of putting it that didn't make it sound like she was living in a Regency novel? – “What Lucius' intentions are? If he's actually serious.” The squished head of the pickled dormouse she had chosen to stare at, rather than facing Severus, appeared mildly disapproving.

It was nothing compared to the look of distaste on Severus’ face. “You want me to find out if Lucius Malfoy is seriously contemplating matrimony with a Muggle-born?”

His definition of 'serious' wasn't quite what Hermione had in mind – she had not considered the remote possibility of becoming Mrs Malfoy. Or Ms. “I'm not sure I want to find out about that. All I'd like to know if he actually cares about me, or if he's just pretending.”

Severus seemed to soften a smidgen, if the way he allowed his back to unstiffen was any indication. “I assume clarifying the issue between the two of you without my involvement isn't an option?”

“Trust me, I would not be here if that was the case. It would have been so easy if he'd been a Gryffindor – I could just have asked him.” Hermione kicked the work table next to her vehemently. “Why do you Slytherins have to be so bloody difficult?” Being childish felt good.

“Ah. And your relationship with Ronald Weasley worked out so well, didn't it?” Dry amusement replaced the withering scorn of a few minutes ago, much to Hermione's relief. She didn't know exactly what his relationship with Lucius was, and the last thing she wanted was to make Severus reconsider letting her be his friend. She had fought long and hard to get him to let her in and it had been worth it, despite the unforeseen side effects.

“At least I didn't get Harry to ask him if he fancied me, like a thirteen-year-old. I didn't even do that when we were thirteen, mind you.”

“Such an attractive child you were, too.”

Severus was pushing old buttons, but Hermione wasn't going to descend to tit-for-tat today. “Will you do it, then? Please.”

He sighed. “Against my better judgement, yes. In the vain hope that it keeps you off the front page for a few days. Poor Potter will be feeling neglected.”

“Thank you!” Hermione would have given him a hug, but he pushed his elbows out and returned to his specimen jars, making it clear that such affection was entirely unwanted.




If she had returned to the classroom just five minutes after her departure, she would have been startled.

Severus Snape was sitting at the left worktable at the front, his head buried in his hands. When he looked up, incidentally at the same dormouse that had caught Hermione's attention earlier, there was a stricken expression on his face. He seemed to have aged a decade since breezing in from Bognor Regis at breakfast. Minerva would have recognised the determination on his face from the war, even though she had misinterpreted it as bigoted zeal back then.

Severus Snape was again resolved to do his duty, no matter what it cost him.




Hermione spent an enjoyable long weekend with her parents, discussing gardening and pretending the wizarding world didn't exist. It was oddly restful, but the jolt of magic that hit her when she picked up her wand again reminded her how lucky she was to be able to return where she belonged.

Hogwarts in its summer best was a sight generally reserved for its teachers. Hermione truly appreciated her good fortune as she walked up to the front door from the Apparition spot at the gates. Swallows dived from the battlements, snatching flies mid-flight, and rogue daisies decorated the lawn, despite Minerva's complaints that they made it look 'untidy'. Hermione happened to know that Neville had a soft spot for the little white spots in the grass, and refused to get rid of them completely with his Weed-Killing Charm.

As if to make her return perfect, Severus was waiting for her on the doorstep. Or at least, he happened to be standing there, his back to the reassuringly thick stone wall, watching the swallows fly against the deep blue sky.

“Evening, Potions Master.”

“Good evening, Miss Granger.”

Even his attempt to wind her up felt like a confirmation that she was home again. “How are you, then? Any more conferences lined up?”

“None I'm invited to.”

“At least you got to go to the Potioneers' one – apparently the Arithmancy Symposium was far too expensive for our budget.” Hermione had argued, but Minerva hadn't budged. The fact that it was held in Venice hadn't helped her case.

He smirked. “Seniority has its perks.”

“Tell me about it, Deputy Headmaster. It won't be me bringing in the first-years from the boats, at least. Four weeks from now, isn't it?”

“You had to go and spoil it, Granger, didn't you? The best day of the year, and you had to remind me of the students.” He took a deep breath, and if she hadn't known better she would have guessed he was trying to suck as much of the sweet smell of cow parsley and mowed grass into his lungs as possible, to have something to remember when the winter winds made the castle sway gently.

“I won't do it again.” She leaned back against the wall, feeling the heat conserved by the stone settle in her bones. They silently stood side by side for a long time, neither of them mentioning Lucius Malfoy, the status of Charms as a discipline vs. Potions, or any other subjects that could spoil this perfect moment, until Poppy appeared and broke the spell.

Amongst her chatter, Hermione Levitated her bag into the castle, and Severus disappeared towards the dungeons. There would be time tomorrow to find out if he had any answers for her; until then, she would simply enjoy being back home.




Teacher, Death Eater, Soldier, Spy by dionde [Reviews - 4]

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