To the Victors

Part 32

Hermione was nervous when they returned to the manor without a fleshed-out plan.

It was good that the four of them were talking openly now, and that they all seemed more concerned with the overarching issue of muggleborn oppression than their individual interests, and even then, Hermione was at the forefront of their personal worries. However, it was disheartening to come up so empty with alternatives.

Before the weekend came to a close, even Ron had agreed marrying Harry might be the best course of action. The admission turned his face a smidge green.

It was fortunate that Lucius was a rare sight in the manor, and she spent nearly the whole summer holiday easily avoiding him.

If only her streak of luck had continued.

"Do you sleep in the library these days?"

His cool voice lifted her from the world of arithmantic equations, numbers leaving her dizzy and out of context. Hermione blinked rapidly to shake the numbers from her head, then focused on the sounds that'd extricated her.

"No, my lord. I just— I'm studying."

"Studying," Lucius repeated as he approached her little table. The click-and-step rhythm of his steps encouraged her heartbeat to pick up until it was racing when he stared down at her. "Studying. Always studying. And yet, you seem to retain so little. "

The word cut as much as his silver gaze, and she reeled through to figure out why. "M-my lord?"

"Tut tut, Hermione. I thought we'd decided to put to rest that old title."

Her cheeks flared. Ah, she remembered now. It had been so humiliating that she'd chosen to default to the older, familiar ways. "Sorry," she murmured.

"'Sorry,' what? Who ?" he queried as he leaned against the shelf beside her.

"S-sorry, Master Lucius." The words were hardly a whisper.

Had he been a cat with cream, he couldn't have looked more satisfied. His tail would have lashed with relish to match the gleam of his gaze. "Better. Now, what exactly are you hoping to accomplish by studying every hour of the day? I've told you've no need to worry."

"I like studying," she argued gently, worried about provoking the great predator of a man.

He tipped his head, loose platinum hair curtaining to one side. "Yes, but there are other subjects to explore now that you know your place after your education is complete."

The words bubbled up before she could stop them. "Like, what, how to remove a stain from silk sheets?"

"Perhaps." A Gallic shrug was the only indication of feeling. "That may prove useful for you. Though I meant broadening your horizons, silly girl."

"Broadening my horizons? I've taken nearly every subject Hogwarts has to offer. What could I possibly want for?"

He rolled his eyes. "You could learn the Dark Arts." That was the most obvious subject not taught at the school, and she snorted at the thought of her being allowed to learn it.

"Most of the books on the Dark Arts would probably hex me for my blood status."

"If you ask, I could assist you in that regard."

Was this a trap?

It had to be a trap.

She blinked owlishly up at him. "Why?"

"Why am I suggesting this? Why would I allow such a thing? Or why would I help you in it?"

"Any," she said. "All."