Conciliatrix

Hermione stood in front of the fire, lost in thought. She had first read the letters almost 3 weeks ago. And though she was uncertain as to the identities of the writers, she had developed an idea.

**They HAVE to be Lucius and Severus - they're the only people that make the letters make sense...the references to Potions, all the talk about a new child...heck, I found the letters in Snape's rooms. It has to be them. It has to be!**

Her respect for the writers had gone from strength to strength...she had seen how Lucius had been pressured into becoming a Death Eater, how he had tried to stop his young lover from following him...his regret that the Mark had been embedded into Severus' flesh. In Severus' letters to Lucius, she had read about how he had felt abandoned by the elder Slytherin, how he had tracked Lucius down only to be forced into servitude by Voldemort, how heartbroken he was when he had heard of Lucius' engagement...though perhaps it was Lucius' letter on that subject that had touched her heart the most:

S,

I thought I would have been able to make you realise that following me into this cursed existence would bring both of us nothing but pain...you must have realised that by now. The only reason that I have acquiesed to this farcical matrimony is that the Dark Lord is unable to beget a heir and as his 'most pure of blood' Death Eater, the 'honour' falls to me to bed his whore. Never mind that my heart and my soul are yours. Never mind that I do not take pleasure in the touch of a woman - nor the fact that I never will...You see, carus, we are nothing but serfs to him. We are his to do with as he pleases.

Still, I will never let you go. Accept that now.

I will not let this French strumpet stand in my way. Knowing that you keep my letters as I keep yours is the only thing that prevents this despair from taking over my soul entirely. And I am not positive that you would even speak to me now. Not considering what I have agreed upon. But I am only doing it to gain his favour, you must understand that.

Once the child is born, Narcissa and I can forget each other, and you and I can be together once more. No one will dare to challenge the man who has provided an heir for Our Lord. Until then, I can only hope for your forgiveness.

- L.

~~~~~~~~~~

L,

I now see what you mean. I feel hopeless, helpless as each day I see her force you to dote on her and then at night see her leave your chambers for his. And to know that I can never enter your chambers at night in case we are seen together. I cannot stand it any longer. Worry not, I am no rash Gryffindor- I have a plan.

I have been offered a scholarship to attend l'Universite d' Arcanum outside of Naples. I will become a Master of Potions and spend the next three years of my life away from you. As a full Potions Master - and of course, I wish to become the best in Europe, if not the world - I will be able to approach any wizarding company in any country and offer my services for whatever sum I choose. Not to mention that Our Lord will find me most useful. With you as the father of his heir, and with I as his Potions expert, no one will challenge either of us. In three years, we will be together. I love you too.

- S.

Hermione sighed. She loved this house and was grateful to Lucius for insisting that she stayed here. Especially since her university had insisted that all students second year and above should find their own housing. With her parents dead she had nowhere else suitable to go. A bachelor pad with Harry and Ron really wouldn't be her thing...

She had spent a lot of time in the past few weeks working with the house elves, making sure that the formerly majestic mansion was once again suitable for human inhabitants.

Suddenly, the flames in front of her turned green. Hurriedly, she scrambled back.

** Who on earth is coming to visit me here?**

Quickly, she clutched her wand in case it was one of the last fugitive Death Eaters coming for either Lucius, or her. Her eyes widened in suprise when she saw that it was Professor Snape who flew out of the fireplace, sprawling on the ornate rug. He didn't move. She moved closer, and noticed the overwhelming smell of too much Scotch.

"Sir?"

********

By the time Snape opened his eyes, Hermione and the house elves had subjected him to many rapid cleaning spells and put him into bed. 'Hang Over , Over' and other general painkilling and nutritional potions were waiting on the bedside table for their patient to wake up and imbibe them.

Hermione was sitting in one of the wing backed chairs near the bed, reading a fascinating account of Wizarding life in the court of Ramses II. She heard a sound from the bed, and looked up from her manuscript in time to see Snape slowly open his eyes.

>> I'm in my room...<<

"Lucius?"

Hermione stood, and made her way over to the bed. "He's still in France. Here," she handed him the 'Hang Over, Over' as she saw him wince at her voice, and helped him to drink it.

After he had swallowed, he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Why are you here?" he demanded.

"I am living here. Now, why were you Flooing into my house?"
"Your house? What happened to Lucius?"
"Yes, my house. Lucius is in France. We have gone over this already," she said, amusement creeping into her voice, as she handed him another potion, this one to help his clarity and concentration.

He made a disgusted noise that she was pretty sure had nothing to do with the potion.

"Wouldn't you know it? I finally swallow my pride and come back to ask for forgiveness and the bastard has already run away. Again."

Hermione watched, uncomfortable at the amount of emotion the Potions Master was displaying. Faced with her old Professor in the flesh, she was having a hard time reconciling the passionate man in the letters with the snarky personality she had known for nearly a decade.

With a sigh, he raised himself up. "Well, I must find somewhere I can stay until I am able to leave for France...horrible country that it is. Ms Granger, it has been a pleasure conversing with you. We must not do it again."

She watched as he slowly eased off the bed, with movements laced with pain.

"Wait...perhaps you could stay here?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"He has to come back from France eventually...he is constantly telling me how much he dislikes it there. There is plenty of room here, I wouldn't disturb you. And also - "

" - House elves don't make for the most scintillating conversation?"
"Well, no." She closed her mouth, wondering where the earlier offer had come from, before mentally chiding herself.

** That look of worry and then the look of hurt in his eyes when he had realised Lucius wasn't there. I am lonely in this house by myself, and I could never forget the letters...**

It amazed her, that such passionate, caring letters could have been written by such a bitter man...they had continued right up until the trials of the captured Death Eaters after the final battle...all through her school years.

He sent her a look of long suffering. "If you insist," he sighed.

She sent him a happy smile in return. ** Now, all I have to do is get Lucius to come home...**

And so began her plotting.