PART 9

'The diary says "Private meeting with Lucius Malfoy".' The secretary frowned. 'There is no mention of your assistant.'

Lucius raised his chin and smiled thinly. 'The lady is my wife.'

'Oh, sorry. But it's as I said, there is no mention of Mrs Malfoy.'

'That,' Lucius drawled, 'is probably because my wife isn't here to talk. If you understand what I mean.' Hermione opened her mouth but closed it again, when Lucius gave her wrist a warning squeeze.

Still not quite sure, the secretary looked at Hermione, as if to size her up. Hermione tried to look as silly and insignificant as possible. 'You're the former Miss Granger!' the secretary suddenly said. 'I was sure I knew you. Well, that's all right then, since you're friends with the minister.' She waved them over to a couple of chairs and left the room.

'Friends with the minister!' Hermione growled. 'As if!'

'Shut up and learn. That was an important lesson: always let people come up with their own reasons to give you what you want. It's less work, and a lot more convincing.'

She batted her eyelids at him. 'Smooth and masterful, just as I said.'

'You're going to pay for this!'

'I'll hold you to- oh, Kingsley! It's a pleasure to see you.'

The minister kissed her hand and turned to Lucius. 'I'm sorry I made you wait. An important Floo call...' He ushered them into his office. 'Sit down, sit down. Would you like some tea? Or coffee perhaps?'

An imperceptible shake of Lucius's head made Hermione turn her yes, please into a polite refusal. Wicked man, she thought, but he was of course right: Kingsley may have heard rumours, and strong tea or coffee covered the flavours of so many nasty potions.

'Well,' Kingsley said jovially, 'what can I do for you?' He sat down in the chair they'd left strategically free for him; if necessary, Hermione would be able to draw her wand without being seen by him. She hoped things wouldn't go that far, though.

Lucius played with the head of his cane. 'Seeing as you're asking, you could resign.'

This perfectly honest statement – the verbal equivalent of hiding in plain sight – was greeted with hearty laughter. 'I wish I could,' Kingsley said. 'But who would be my successor, eh?' He winked at Lucius.

'Oh, I wouldn't presume... Although, if I were you, I'd rather retire to that lovely hacienda in Southern Spain... Being the Minister for Magic is such a frightfully boring pastime, don't you think?'

'I didn't know you had a hacienda in Southern Spain.'

'Oh, I don't. I happen to possess one or two little châteaux in Normandy – I can never remember whether there are one or two... I was referring to your hacienda, Kingsley.' His cane was now casually propped against his right leg, his fingers hovering over the snake head.

'I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Believe me, I understand you perfectly. I keep forgetting my châteaux, you your hacienda. These things do happen.'

'We also have a very nice house down in Cornwall,' Hermione piped up.

'Of course darling. Please don't interfere. I'm talking to Kingsley.'

'Yes, Lucius. Sorry.' She loved it. And Shacklebolt was lapping it up.

'So, Hermione, are you happy?' he asked. 'Married life suits you, doesn't it?'

She nodded demurely and managed a barely audible yes, careful to keep her eyes down and her head slightly bowed. Body language was a wonderful thing.

'Being married is very important for a man,' Lucius declared grandly. 'It's impossible to concentrate on important things, when you have to deal with domestic trifles. But Hermione has become very good at that. Haven't you, dear?'

Another nod, another 'Yes, Lucius.'

'I wonder,' Lucius continued in the same tone of voice, 'why you're still a bachelor, Kingsley. You certainly meet enough pretty girls.'

'It's difficult to find a good wife nowadays.'

Hermione was lovingly dwelling on a mental picture of robbing the minister of his family jewels. Not with a blunt knife though. She'd use a spoon, given half the opportunity.

'Difficult?' A thin smile indicated that Lucius thought otherwise. 'And I thought you'd created the Marriage Law for your own good!'

'I wish I could've done that. But my mother was a Muggle, alas.'

'I don't think so,' Lucius said. Now his voice was hard and icy, a reminder of times past. 'Your mother, dearest minister, was as pureblooded as they come, and your father's ascendants, all of them magical, can be traced back for four generations. Genealogical research is such a fascinating subject, isn't it?'

It seemed that Kingsley had understood. The hacienda the McNair family had very generously gifted him with in exchange for certain favours was just one of a dozen cherries on the cake. The real cake, though, was the pureblood status he'd been so eager to conceal. 'What do you want?' he rasped.

'I believe I already told you. Right at the beginning. Resign.'

'So you can take my place? Never!'

'Such courage in the face of adversity,' Lucius remarked calmly. 'Gryffindor to the core. But rest assured, Kingsley, I'll merely be one of three candidates. I might win, but if I do, it'll be because I've been elected. And I'm rich enough to refuse such ridiculous bribes as... let me see... we already mentioned the hacienda, then there's that well-filled vault at Gringotts' Zurich branch-'

'You gave that to me, you lying bastard!'

'Did I really? Oh and there are the shares in Firebolt Ltd...'

'Those aren't mine!'

'No, but your straw man is surprisingly talkative. Maybe you ought to have offered him a larger percentage of your profits.'

In his desperation, Kingsley turned to the silent third party. 'Hermione, he is... He's making it all up! If you testify against him, I promise I'll... whatever it is you want,' he finished weakly.

'I think,' Hermione said, 'I'd like to things to stay just as they are, as far as Lucius is concerned. Also, please bear in mind that I did the genealogical research – excellent fakes, by the way, but still fakes. Considering the number of wrongdoings you managed in a mere six months, I really think you ought to resign. It's time for democracy, Kingsley. People need to take responsibility, realize that they can change things and influence what's happening – this way the next Dark Lord won't come to power so easily.'

Pearls of sweat were gliding down the minister's forehead and into his eyes. 'You're with him?' He gestured weakly at Lucius. 'But I heard... Potter told me how badly he's treating you.'

'Harry's going to get married on Saturday to Ginny Weasley, and he owes it all to the Malfoy family. I'm afraid he might not be your most fervent supporter – can you imagine how furious he was when he heard that you'd swindled and forged your way out of the Marriage Law, whereas the girl he loves would've gone to the highest bidder?'

'You bitch,' Kingsley said, but he sounded resigned rather than aggressive.

'Really, Kingsley, I would thank you not to insult my wife. Now sit down at your desk like a good boy, because you have to sign a few documents.'

While Kingsley obediently did as he was told and Lucius watched him with unflagging, hawk-like attention, Hermione observed her husband being all dominant and masterful. She'd told him the truth: it really was a major turn-on. When he briefly raised his head to make sure she was still on her guard – you never knew with those wand-happy ex-Aurors – she caught his eye and deliberately circled the tip of her left index finger with her tongue.

It had been a dangerous undertaking, but that didn't mean it couldn't be put to good use as foreplay.

'Enter,' Hermione said, when a knock resounded on the door of her dressing room. 'Oh, Lucius, you look fabulous!' She rose to breathe a kiss on her husband's cheek.

'My dear, this is most flattering, but you mustn't steal my lines. I just passed Draco on the corridor, by the way. He was looking a little… spooked.'

'I told you we ought to cast that silencing spell.' They'd just spent a couple of exceedingly pleasant hours in the master bedroom. 'He was probably eavesdropping, so he merely got what he deserved. How do I look?'

Lucius smiled. 'Fit for a king.'

'I'm afraid that will have to wait a bit, we just got a democracy.'

Bunter, who was still very much in awe of Hermione, appeared with a dignified pop and announced that the first carriage had just entered the driveway. It was time to face the music.

'Greeting our guests like this always makes me feel like a nightclub bouncer,' Hermione said on their way downstairs. 'Maybe I'll tell that fuck-head Grimsby that we won't let him in because he isn't on the list.'

'Behave yourself.' Lucius gave his cuffs a last tug. 'We are only expecting two hundred guests, and then you can get drunk.'

'It's New Year's Eve, of course I'm going to get drunk.'

The entrance door opened, and Bunter announced Minerva McGonagall.

'Madam Chief Justice.' Lucius bowed to kiss her hand.

She inclined her head. 'Minister.' The afterthought But Not Prime Minister, You Smarmy Bastard, was almost audible. Then she kissed Hermione on both cheeks. 'How are you, dear child?'

'Very well, thank you.'

'When are you going to sit your N.E.W.T.s?'

Obviously being married to a former Death Eater turned Minister of Finance didn't offer any protection against former teachers. Hermione cleared her throat. 'I, erm, hadn't really planned...' She eagerly listened for more carriages to arrive and save her, but the only sound she could hear was her mother-in-law cheerfully calling Bunter a shrivelled-up grump. Draco wasn't showing his face either, the wuss.

'Nonsense,' the Chief Justice of the High Wizengamot said. 'With a mind like yours... Whatever are you going to tell your children, if they're neglecting their school work?'

'Do your homework or your father will Crucio you?' Hermione offered hopefully.

'This is no laughing matter. Lucius?'

'Yes, Madam Chief Jus-'

'Stop that nonsense, Lucius. You always call me Minerva. Now tell your wife she has to finish her education.'

'You know perfectly well that my wife doesn't – what were your exact words, dear?'

'I don't take any shit from you,' she supplied helpfully.

McGonagall sniffed and looked down her nose at her ex-favourite student. 'You two seem to understand each other quite well.'

'We have our moments.' Lucius put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. 'It's hopeless, though. I tried goading, I tried persuading and even bribing. I offered to free all our house elves in exchange for a shabby seven N.E.W.T.s, but it was all in vain.'

'Seven? You said twelve!'

'It must have slipped my mind. Oh, here comes my mother. Excuse me.'

He walked towards the elder Mrs Malfoy, who seemed to have some trouble with her cloak.

'Don't say a word,' Hermione whispered to McGonagall, 'but I got thirteen N.E.W.T.s. It's my new year's surprise for Lucius.'

'Thirteen? He only got twelve!'

'Exactly my point,' Hermione said and went to greet her mother-in-law.

More guests arrived; the crowd moved slowly upstairs and filtered into the ballroom. Hermione still had trouble memorizing all the names and faces – she was very good with dates and facts, but identifying people wasn't her strong suit.

Harry and Ginny had just arrived and were lingering in the entrance hall. Hermione hadn't seen Ron in ages and rather counted on him attending the party, but Ginny had informed her that he'd chosen to accept an invitation from his brother Bill. 'Fleur said she was going to invite Lavender Brown. I think that clinched it.'

'Lavender? Well I never – stay close, Ginny, you must tell me all about it.'

Ginny had nodded and steered Harry to a quiet corner, where they pretended to be watching the arriving guests. When Hermione heard Ginny shriek softly, she thought at first that The Boy Who Was Unable to Keep His Hands to Himself had given further proof of his rampant libido. But then she saw Ginny's wide-open eyes and looked towards the door. 'Lucius…' she said weakly.

He cast her a quick sideways glance and winked, before saying, 'Kingsley, what a pleasure. I am very glad you could make it. And Mrs. Shacklebolt, how good of you to come.'

'Hem, hem.' Dolores Shacklebolt extended a fat little hand that sparkled with diamonds, and giggled when Lucius bent stoically down to kiss it. 'Thank you for your kind invitation. It's a pleasure, hem, hem, to welcome the New Year in the company of friends.'

'I couldn't have expressed it better. You know Hermione, my wife?'

'Hem, yes, I, hem, believe we've met.' She offered her hand to Hermione in a rustle of pink moiré.

'Oh, I remember you perfectly,' Hermione said. 'I never had a Defence against the Dark Arts teacher quite like you. And that's really saying something.' When the unhappy couple was out of hearing distance, she hissed, 'Why on earth did you invite them?'

'I don't recall inviting them. I thought you did.'

'That's the silliest thing you've ever – oh, Lucius! Do you think they're planning something?'

'I'm not sure,' Lucius said slowly. 'But I certainly don't like the thought of the two of them traipsing around our house. Why don't you…' He scanned their surroundings. 'Ah, there they are. Why don't you ask your friend Mr Potter to keep an eye on them? I'll tell Bunter to stay with Potter and his wife, so he can alert us immediately.'

'That won't be necessary. I'd rather you told Bunter to give the news to the other elves. Leave Harry to me.'

She was surprised to find Draco engaged in animated conversation with the young couple. Obviously Harry's newfound enthusiasm for all things Malfoy included Draco. Or maybe he'd realized that they had more in common than he'd thought.

'I already told ferret-boy about Umbridge,' Harry said. 'Why in bloody hell did you invite that toad and her cheating liar of a husband?'

'That's exactly the problem. I didn't invite her, and neither did Lucius.'

'So it's maybe a good thing I brought this,' Harry whispered, eyes a-glow, and pulled a well-known object out of an inner pocket of his dress robes.

'The Invisibility – oh, Harry, that's brilliant! Why did you bring it?'

He was avoiding her eyes when he muttered, 'Oh, just in case.'

'Harry! Tell me why you brought it!'

'Ferret here said he-'

'Draco?' She crossed her arms and glared at him. 'What did you think you were going to need Harry's cloak for?'

'Oh, come off it, Granger. I didn't mean to spy on you and father, so don't get your knickers in a twist.'

'Why, you perverted, little – what?' she snapped irritably when Harry grabbed her arm.

'Hermione, he just said that he didn't mean to spy on you and Malfoy.'

'So that was the first thing that came to his mind, which means that that was exactly what he meant to do. Oh, I'm so going to hex you, Draco!'

'Umbridge?' Ginny ventured.

'Right, yes.' Hermione gave Draco another withering look before concentrating on the essential problem. 'I can't snoop around, because I'm supposed to play hostess. So you'll have to keep an eye on the old toad – Draco, you're going to help, aren't you?'

Draco grinned. 'Just like old times, isn't it?'

'I hope it's not. Ginny, be a good girl and try to stay near her while she talks to people. Maybe you'll overhear something important. Harry and Draco, can you stay under that cloak together without killing each other?'

'Only if he doesn't try to cop a feel.'

Ginny patted her husband's arm. 'I'll hex him for you, darling, if he does.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'For heaven's sake, this could be serious. Harry, Ginny, have you still got your DA coins?' They both nodded. 'Oh, good. So we can communicate. Off you go. And thanks!'

'I bet it's going to be a lot more fun than talking to father's boring friends.'

'Tell me something I don't know.'

Lucius was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. 'Have the troops been deployed?' He offered her his arm.

'Harry had the serendipitous idea to bring the Invisibility Cloak. Did you instruct Bunter?'

'I did.' He smiled down at her. 'You're enjoying this, aren't you?'

'It's as Draco said. Just like the old times. Only we're Aurors now, and wives…'

'Potter is an Auror in training, to be exact. And Draco's still at school. As for being wives – both you and Mrs Potter… I think I need a drink. I just realized that she is my half-sister by adoption. Which makes Potter my brother-in-law.'

'One big, happy family,' Hermione said. 'Isn't that nice.' She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze, and they entered the warmth and noise of the grand ballroom.

It was past four a.m. when the last guests left. Hermione sat down on the carpet, right in the centre of the entrance hall, and started massaging her feet after she'd taken off her shoes. Lucius joined her, carrying a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses.

'I'm getting to old for this,' he observed.

'Nonsense. I'm a bit younger than you, and I'm completely exhausted.' She took a deep swig of whisky. 'I hope you're not interested in sex, because I'm not. I merely want to relax a bit, and then sleep.'

'Not really, no. Not because I don't think you're attractive, because you're lovely, but…' He gestured at the surrounding mess. 'One more for the road?'

Hermione held out her glass so he could pour her another generous dose. 'I still can't believe they just came for the buffet. I was so sure they were hatching some evil plan.'

'Not just for the buffet,' Lucius said glumly. 'We're missing twenty silver spoons, three jars of Beluga caviar, and they also seem to have emptied my pockets. There can't have been more than three or four hundred galleons, but the insult rankles all the same. Your friend Potter is a complete failure. To think that he's going to be an Auror!'

'It's all your fault, really. If you hadn't led to believe Kingsley that he wouldn't have to marry Umbridge if he gave the money back…'

'I didn't say a word. He arrived at the conclusion all by himself.'

'Still,' she said, 'it's all a bit anticlimactic, don't you think?'

'But rather reassuring. I frankly don't mind a certain lack of evil plots, especially other people's evil plots.'

'Spoken like a true civil servant.'

'You're merely green with envy, because I'm minister, and you're too young to be eligible for parliament.'

'I'll be eligible the next time round. And woe upon you if you dare oppress me.' She staggered to her feet and held out her hand. 'Come on, time to go to bed.'

'I'm still perfectly able to get up on my own, thank you very much. But' – he chuckled when they had trouble climbing the stairs – 'it's a good thing that we've got four legs between the two of us. Do you remember there being so many steps?'

'That was Umbridge, I'm telling you. She cursed the stairs, so we'll never be able to get to our bedroom.'

Steadying himself with his left hand on the banister, and his wife with his right arm round her waist, Lucius looked upwards in despair. 'There have always been thirteen, and then eighteen, and then another thirteen. That's a total of… Oh, never mind. Surely less than fifty. But I've already counted fifty, and we're not even halfway up.'

Hermione waved the whisky bottle so enthusiastically that half of its contents landed on Lucius's shirt and her dress. 'Speaking of thirteen – I got thirteen N.E.W.T.s! I wanted to tell you at midnight, but you kissed me so… so extremely well that I completely forgot.'

'Thirteen N.E.W.T.s?' Lucius snorted. 'You haven't even got one, let alone thirteen! I'm not that drunk, you know?'

'Thirteen,' she repeated stubbornly. 'Right now I can't remember where I put my diploma, but I'll show you tomorrow. Well, today. Oh, sod it.'

The intrepid mountaineer and his faithful sherpa had reached the mountaintop and needed to rebuild their strength. Watching her husband guzzle whisky from the bottle, Hermione told herself that she'd have to keep this image in her memory. Unfortunately, she didn't remember a thing when she woke up. Or rather she did, but another image had replaced the booze-quaffing minister.

They'd successfully covered the distance from the staircase to their bedroom, and Lucius held the door open for her. 'What?' he said, when he saw her freeze, eyes bulging and her hand clutching her throat.

His reflexes weren't much hampered by inebriation; he'd pushed Hermione behind him and drawn his wand within the second. Then he slowly lowered his wand and merely stared.

Their bed was occupied. Ginevra Potter, née Weasley, was sprawled across the mattress, naked as on the day she'd been born, red hair cascading wildly over the pillows. Her husband, also fast asleep, had rested his head on her lower belly, and Draco was curled up against her side. The room fairly reeked of sex.

Lucius closed the door without a noise and dragged a half-sleeping, half-delirious Hermione to the opposite end of the corridor, where the guest rooms lay.

'Did you see that? They had a threesome, in our bed! Oh my god, Molly would go spare if she knew! Her little girl, fucking Harry and Draco at the same time, I don't believe it!'

'Neither do I, but at least it explains why Umbridge was free to pillage our house. And you're not going to tell that Weasley termagant!'

'Of course I'm not. But just imagining her face makes me feel all fuzzy.'

'And you're not going to tease Draco about it!'

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed and gave him a look of pure innocence. 'You know I won't.'

'Because, if he's discovering women, we wouldn't want to stand in nature's way.'

'Maybe it's just Harry who's discovering men.'

'Oh, shut up.'

'I got thirteen N.E. – E.W.T.s,' she chanted, 'And you only got twe – elve!'

'Shut up, you brat!'

'Lucius is jealous, Lucius is jealous!'

'You're completely drunk.'

'So are you.'

'Yes, but I'm a drunk minister, and you're merely a drunk girl with thirteen N.E.W.T.s. Did I already tell you I'm very proud of you? Hermione?'

Hermione emitted a soft mewl, turned to her side and started to snore.

It was dark in the room, and rather cold. Outside, a flurry of snowflakes was whirling past the window, gently touching the glass.

Lucius took off his shoes and loosened his cravat, then crawled into bed and curled up against his wife. Hermione stirred in her sleep and muttered a few unintelligible words. Then she went back to snoring, but stopped when Lucius pulled the duvet over the two of them and kissed her shoulder.

He'd already dozed off, when she cried out in her sleep. 'Shush, my love,' he murmured sleepily. 'Shush. It's just a bad dream.' But she'd woken him up, and he decided to take advantage. His hands worked quickly and efficiently on the fastenings of her robes.

It wasn't a bad dream, not really. She was dreaming about participating in a heated discussion in parliament, Lucius sitting on the government bench and looking supremely smug, as a couple of uniformed janitors were unscrewing all the seats, so the venerable MPs had to remain on their feet.

'Budget cuts, I deeply regret,' said the minister of finance, smirking and motioning for the janitors to continue. 'No benches, no quills' – Hermione was struggling against the man who was wrenching the quill from her fingers – 'and no clothes, I'm afraid.'

'This is outrageous,' she yelled, kicking and biting as the janitor started unfastening her robes. 'I'll sue you, minister, I'll…'

She woke up to the sound of her own moans and realized that the minister of finance was indeed taking possession of her robes. 'Budget cuts?' she murmured.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. 'Not as far as I know, my love.'

Suddenly sober, she stared up into his face. His hair was obscuring it, but she thought he was smiling. 'Slip of your tongue?'

'I don't think so,' he said.

F I N I S