Lost Image | dramione

43 | the generous offer

"Narcissa likes you."

"Pardon?"

Somehow, for some unknown reason in the back of her sleepy, shocked-dumb mind, she had followed Lucius when he had said they needed to talk. She was now sitting in a red leather high-backed chair that creaked when she moved, across from Lucius, who was sitting at his large imposing desk. He chuckled at her answer, but the laughter was condescending and lacking real humor.

"Trust me. This is insurmountably more shocking of a discovery for me than it could possibly be for you. She's a good actress when she needs to be, but in truth she doesn't like most people. Especially people like you, but I can tell this is a rare exception."

"Now, do you mean muggle-borns, or muggle-borns who are smarter than you?"

Lucius' smile was stretched thin. "Careful," he said simply, and Hermione decided to reel it in a little. She remembered what Narcissa had said... Hermione said she would try to be less snippy. Which meant less honest, as far as she was concerned.

"Look, I think you have the wrong idea with your overall premise here- Narcissa hates me about as much as you do. She's just gotten used to me."

"Oh, I don't hate you. That would require effort." His false humor died quickly, his palms falling flat on the desk in front of him. "I don't think of you at all, which was really the best situation possible. I don't care if there are bugs in the garden, but when they move into the house... then I have a problem. Miss Granger, do we have a problem?"

Hermione glowered, trying to remember why she had decided to hold her tongue. "I don't know what you expect me to say. And it's not Miss Granger anymore, as you well know. That was partly your idea, you'll remember."

Lucius paused, considering. "Yes, Narcissa mentioned this as well. It is our fault that Draco was put in such an... awkward position. That's why I'm prepared to play nice."

"And what does that consist of?"

"Well, for one..." Lucius started, his eyes glinting dangerously. "... that means not threatening you..." his gaze shifted over to a shelf, where that damn metal lie-box was sitting. She thought she spied a bit of longing in his eyes, but he shook it off and turned back to her. "...you seem to have parroted how to use a wand well enough, so coercion would probably be met with that temper I've heard about."

Temper? He had yet to see the full blunt of her temper... besides, compared to Ron or Harry, she was hardly the most hot-headed person she knew! It just so happened that the Malfoy's had a knack for pissing her off. "So, playing nice doesn't include avoiding insults," she muttered.

"Insults? Did I say something insulting? I've only spoken the truth."

She pressed her lips together, remaining silent with great effort. From the moment she entered the room, she had kept a tight grip on her wand in her pocket. Despite his assurances, she did not loosen her grip in the slightest.

"So, I've decided that there's only one reasonable and simple solution to this problem," Lucius continued. He reached into his desk.

Hermione let her wand slip silently out of her pocket, holding it lower than the desk so it couldn't be seen.

Lucius threw something bulky onto the desk, close to her. It was a bag, and when it landed, it made a heavy metallic clanking sound. It was clearly a bag of gold, but it didn't make a sound like sparse coins clinking together- the purse was bulging, and almost solid it was packed so full.

Hermione stared at it. "So, you want..."

"We have perhaps a month until the end of the Marriage Law. I want you to stay away from my son."