Fic: Muggle Studies for Mature Students (Severus Snape/Hermione Granger, NC17) Part 1
My 2011 Snape/Hermione Exchange fic:
Author leni_jess
Title Muggle Studies for Mature Students
Rating R
Warnings None
Word count ~13,550 words
Summary Post-war, Lucius Malfoy's rehabilitation includes an officially-mandated Muggle Studies course - taken without wand, in the Muggle world, under the tutelage of Miss Hermione Granger. Whom Lucius remembers quite well. He enlists Severus Snape to protect him from a not-undeserved revenge, but Hermione as well as he forgets that Real Life tends to mess up even a little light pay-back.
Author's notes This was written for reynardo in the 2011 sshg_exchange. Thanks to my beta reader (my brother) for long-suffering, helpful comments and discussion, and the suggestion twisted rather than taken. Thanks also to the Exchange Mods, for running it once again!
Muggle Studies for Mature Students
by Leni Jess
Severus sat back and savoured the last of his coffee, waiting for Lucius to get around to asking whatever this dinner was partial advance payment for. Lucius was complaining in a tired way about about a tired subject: his house arrest. Narcissa of course had been rewarded rather than penalised, after the Battle of Hogwarts, and Draco had been excused his dangerous activities on the grounds of youth and coercion. However, though the Wizengamot had not sent Lucius to Azkaban for his beliefs, and his actions from earlier years, it had penned him up in Malfoy Manor for an indeterminate time.
The last two years had given Severus himself time to recover, and to accustom himself to freedom from the mastery of others. It had even given Lucius time to reflect on his mistakes and how to remedy them, as distinct from his unthinking revulsion from Voldemort's service when he understood how his master endangered his family. That didn't mean Lucius accepted his penalty as just, naturally; it did mean he used his time of confinement as productively as possible, engaged in research on practically anything a wizard could do with the resources of his own home. Especially after Narcissa had left him, once she thought he had recovered from those last years, first in Azkaban and then tormented by Voldemort. He had to be grateful to her for her kindness in postponing her departure until she knew he could manage alone, even as he was humiliated by it. Keeping busy, he could tell himself he was doing useful work, and preparing for the day he should be free again.
Lucius moved from complaint to surprisingly nervous chatter, still without coming to the point, so Severus in mercy decided to give him an opening.
"Are you expecting Draco home for the summer, or is his apprenticeship keeping him in Vienna?"
"He's coming home for the Midsummer ceremonies, and staying a few days, but his master wants him to join him on a summer project in Greece." Lucius smiled wryly, losing some of his agitation. "Draco isn't averse to seeing what a Mediterranean summer can be like. Even after his hard work with Flitwick that final year at Hogwarts, Master Baumgartner believes he has a lot of catching up to do. In any case, it's good for him to be out of England, just now."
That hardly needed saying. In spite of his own rehabilitation in the wizarding eye, and the fairly general acknowledgement of the Slytherin students who had returned to Hogwarts to take part in the Battle with Potter, rather than with the late Voldemort, Slytherins still encountered prejudice and insult, and even violence. After his two years under Voldemort's thumb, Draco needed peace and security. Much of Lucius's acceptance of the Charms Master's whims derived from his knowledge that Ulrich Baumgartner gave those to Draco, where his father could not.
"He could have joined Shacklebolt's apprentices - whatever their official title, the Minister is training those children to rise in the Ministry as well as to do his errands and his research."
Lucius shrugged. "He would have had to associate with the Granger girl, as well as more acceptable purebloods like Lovegood and Abbott. Relationships at school become too intense, turn inward too much - you know that, Severus. They could all use a little distance, I imagine - certainly Shacklebolt doesn't seem to let his 'executive assistants' flock together much."
Lucius reached for the wine bottle and poured them both a last glass. Severus was silent out of respect for the elf-made wine from the Allier region of France - yet another indication that Lucius saw this evening as one where it was important to have Severus both mellow and cooperative.
As he lifted his glass with a slight inclination of his head to his younger friend, Lucius murmured, "You must have wondered, Severus, how it was I got you away from the Shack where the Dark Lord left you. Without a wand."
"Often," Severus responded, "though I assumed you had a wand, but were not acknowledging that in case the Aurors or the Wizengamot confiscated it. You've always avoided discussing it."
Severus hadn't pressed Lucius for information; it was enough to be indebted, but to know that Lucius saw himself as owing Severus something for leading him into Voldemort's clutches: things balanced out.
"No. I gave you a place to recover, and naturally Cissa made sure you had the best Healers."
Severus knew she too was conscious of being in his debt, which was fair enough. There had been no need to point out that Dumbledore would have insisted on his striving to shelter Draco even had there been no Unbreakable Vow.
"It was a witch, not I, who tended those ghastly wounds, then gave me your wand so I could Apparate you here. She made me promise not to speak of it to you - wand oath, not an Unbreakable, but still… I swore on your wand. A promise I don't care to break. Explicitly."
Lucius slipped a hand into his pocket and brought out a few Chocolate Frog cards. Idly he scattered them on the table so that Severus could see them all. Severus rolled his eyes. The Heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts had extended the range of Chocolate Frog cards considerably. Even he himself featured on one. He glanced down at the expected trio of Potter, Granger and Weasley, and the less expected Longbottom (whose clumsiness seemed to have vanished entirely in that last dreadful year; he had certainly dealt with Nagini expeditiously). Severus frowned. Three wizards; one witch. He looked at Lucius, raising an eyebrow in query. Lucius didn't nod, but he smiled, then collected up the cards again.
So. He had Miss Granger to thank. Thoughtful of her to try to keep that knowledge from him. Immediately after the battle, or during his convalescence, he might have wasted energy resenting her interference. For a long time, after all, it had seemed that his recovery would be partial; that his voice, his magic, even his ability to walk without halting, might be permanently affected. His life had not been so wonderful that he welcomed its continuance in what had looked like a state even worse than when he had been a slave to both Voldemort and Dumbledore. Now, though, he could acknowledge that he was glad to be alive, and whole. The girl had done a better job than St Mungo's had done on Arthur Weasley; his Healer (not a fan of the hospital which had trained him) had said as much, though at the time Severus had sniffed disbelievingly.
Severus smiled. How amusing to have the secret that little Miss Know-It-All thought safe from him. How foolish of her, not to realise how easily Lucius could make a way around the promise she had extracted. Someone should tutor her in dealing with Slytherins: she would need it in the Ministry, after all; not all of Shacklebolt's industrious young recruits were Gryffindors - or Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs, either. How remarkable to find someone who could be even-handed with members of all four Hogwarts houses. Since Shacklebolt appeared to be training them ultimately to take over the Ministry, perhaps the wizarding world might have peace for a while. Perhaps he would make occasion to go upstairs from his workroom in the Unspeakables' domain to the Minister's, and drop Miss Granger a few useful hints.
She was clearly better in an emergency than she had once been - though he did remember how without prompting she had conjured a vial to hold the memories he had desperately tried to give Potter. Perhaps, after the three of them ran off to investigate his gift - as he had wished them, or at least Potter, to do - she had realised that Severus had still been alive: hardly breathing, only marginally aware, but certainly still bleeding. She must have come back almost immediately, though he had been unconscious by then. When had she recruited Lucius to his aid? Lucius had been concentrating wholly on finding and protecting his son; how had she got his attention long enough to ensure he would help Severus to safety? It might be amusing, also, to see how much detail he could get out of her. Lucius wasn't going to speak, not with a wand oath binding his voice. Perhaps, later, he could induce Miss Granger to release him from that oath: Severus might find Lucius's account entertaining.
Lucius surprised him by confirming that he had found Miss Granger at least impressive, and perhaps even terrifying.
"I remembered her, of course, and she certainly remembered me. I had hoped, once you were safe, never to need to speak with her again. She embarrasses me, even after all this time, even though I couldn't have restrained Bellatrix; and I'm sure she makes no allowance for my position then, and hates me."
Lucius set down his wine glass, empty now, and spread his hands. "I'd like you to help me, Severus. Shacklebolt - though formally it's the Wizengamot's ruling - has decreed I may be released from house arrest if I prove I can adapt to, and civilly interact with, Muggles."
Severus was almost surprised into laughter, but no self-protective Slytherin would laugh at a friend who was both disconcerted and in desperate need.
"How are you to demonstrate this?"
"Undertake Muggle Studies, thirty years after I've left school. That's what it amounts to."
Severus shrugged. "For your freedom, you can't do that?"
"I can do a great deal more, believe me," Lucius responded warmly. "If I could survive Voldemort - however barely - I can deal with Muggles, if I must."
So Lucius wasn't refusing the assignment. "You need a guide? It's many years since I left my father's world behind, Lucius."
"But you must remember so much! You can reacquaint yourself - if you're willing. No; I don't need a guide. Shacklebolt has appointed me one. Guide; tutor; warder; spy - who knows?"
It all came together for Severus: this dinner, Lucius's nervousness, his betrayal of Miss Granger - and Severus by now knew Kingsley Shacklebolt's sense of humour quite well, too. (There was another one whom peace had relieved of many burdens, even as it had imposed others on him; Shacklebolt could laugh, now, and relax, as Severus had learned to do.)
So Lucius wanted someone to protect him from the attentions of Miss Granger, who would undoubtedly get a little mild revenge, if only in passing, even as she solemnly carried out her assignment. Severus really wanted to laugh, now, but he kept his laughter inside, to relish the situation when he was alone.
"It is, perhaps, time I reacquainted myself with that side of my heritage," he answered blandly, and saw Lucius relax.
How interesting, that a little snip of a bossy bookworm could create such anxiety in a man like Lucius, without having spoken to him in two years.
~~~!!!~~~
Lucius's Patronus surprised Severus at the Ministry, but only because he was concentrating on the difficult Old Slavic text he was deciphering, searching for the mythical potion that would enable Animagus transformation. The Firebird of legend hadn't come from nowhere, and the spells and mental disciplines that made Animagery possible for witches and wizards of determination and mental agility had been developed later.
He looked up at the silver owl circling his workroom, admiring again its beauty and its wingspread (however awkward that would be in a room much smaller than this): an eagle owl of some kind, possibly the same as Isreya, the lovely sand-coloured creature that Lucius could now acknowledge as his familiar, with Voldemort gone. Their late lord had not believed anyone but himself entitled to a familiar, especially one of such grace as this, any more than he had approved of the use of the Patronus Charm, being himself without sufficient happy memories to cast it. Maybe that was the source of the belief that Death Eaters as a group were unable to cast it. Foolish. Ordinary wizards, even those eaten up with pride, ambition and fear, usually had some happy memories to call upon, however slight and however far in their pasts. Even he had such memories. Lucius had relished the freedom at last to work with his Patronus, and using the charm made sending messages much faster than using even the best post owl, even Isreya herself, bred for swift flight and magical endurance.
Having got his attention, the silver bird alighted on a chair back, and in Lucius's voice said, "Come as soon as you may, please. My guide is here."
"I can come now," Severus responded, charming the ancient text shut and locking it away swiftly in his triply sealed work cabinet.
He summoned his cloak with a wand flick, slung it around his shoulders, and gestured the insubstantial creature away. It lifted into flight, circled once, and vanished.
Severus strode to the Unspeakables' communal Apparition point, and Disapparated for Malfoy Manor. These days, favoured visitors need not walk up from the gates, but could alight in the shelter of the wide porch before the Manor's imposing front door.
Miss Granger looked older, better dressed, and more self-confident than he remembered her save in the company of books or her heedless friends, both of whom, for their sins, were undergoing Auror training with no special allowances.
She was surprised to see him, though she recovered quickly, and even smiled at him with apparent sincerity. "Professor Snape! How good to see you looking so well."
Brave of her, he thought; and responded, "Just 'Mister' will do. Or even 'Severus', since we are to be colleagues, I understand, and you are no longer a child under my authority."
If she thought that meant he would refrain from exercising as much authority over her as he could grasp, she was deluded; but she had never been stupid, and her smile turned wry.
It didn't take long to establish that while Lucius was willing to comply with the conditions of his release, he wasn't ready to allow Miss Granger to direct his every move. She was surprisingly agreeable to including Severus in the Muggle orientation course - did she think he would support her? Perhaps she simply hoped he might be a voice of reason. She was unmoved, however, by Lucius's insistence that he needed his wand.
She said briskly, "Your notification from the Wizengamot included the requirement that this exercise was to be undertaken without your wand. No, Mr Malfoy, you don't need protection from Muggles. In any case, you will have not only me to assist you - and I have been trained for this - but also Severus. If you feel he might be incompetent to guard you, take it up with him."
This flagrant sowing of discord did not succeed, though she had probably not meant it seriously. Severus smirked faintly, and Lucius scowled.
His next objection was to the location of his undesired entry to the Muggle world. "Not London - you will know it well, yes? And be at an advantage. I will not be able to tell whether your teachings are effective, or simply the result of experience. If I am to learn to navigate, to live, even to thrive, in your parents' world, Miss Granger, I must insist we start on an equal footing, in a place as unfamiliar to you as to me, so that I can see for myself how much you are advantaged by your childhood in that world, and how much research and experiment you need to undertake to accomplish whatever you expect me to learn. And I do hope," he finished, "that this course has a curriculum, and that you plan to share it with me."
If she was offended, she hid it well. "I made a list of things I thought you should be able to do, and also a list of options you could choose, later, if you wished. It starts simple: finding your way in a Muggle town, using its public transport, using its money to pay for whatever you need. Later, learning the complexities of how Muggle money works - not how it equates to galleons, sickles and knuts, but that its worth in relation to other currencies varies over time and change of circumstance, and how you may access that information; and how Muggle money is stored, protected, and accessed. Using Muggle means of communication, starting with the simplest."
"Wait," Lucius demanded.
She arched an eyebrow at him, a trick she hadn't mastered as a schoolgirl. Severus was amused, but flattered, too, that she should work to emulate one of his skills, one that he earlier had copied from Lucius.
"Why this emphasis on Muggle money? What more is there, than equivalent values, such as the goblins use when they provide Muggleborn children and their parents with wizarding currency?"
"If you want to start with an issue most Muggles have a very poor grasp of…"
She waited, inviting him to retract his demand, but Lucius responded, "I don't need to be at more of a disadvantage than I am."
"Very well." She settled back in her chair. "This isn't short. The wizarding world has one currency, one bank, and the goblins control both. The only circumstance likely to change the price of wizarding articles is demand, or scarcity: a poor season meaning fresh vegetables are hard to get, a new fashion for something not easy to make, that cannot be created with magic, however skilled."
Lucius nodded. "A restaurant with an accomplished cook charges more once it is established in public esteem - but after that, the prices don't change, except for dishes requiring seasonal items."
"Gamp's law," Severus agreed. "Food - as I'm sure you learned the hard way in what should have been your final year at school, Miss Granger - cannot be conjured. Neither can certain other items, though they may be changed somewhat by magic."
"Clothing for a child can be transfigured long-term, but only to a certain point," said Lucius. He smiled. "We learned that when it was no longer possible for Draco to fit into his favourite clothes for playing in the woods."
"So you understand that. But Muggle countries each have their own currencies, with different coins (and paper notes for higher values). Their value in relation to each other changes in response to perceived value - some of which may be egregious error, but that doesn't matter to the money market; the change still occurs, and affects everyone. Muggles also have many banks, not one. They contract to protect customers' funds, and make use of them in their own speculations - and charge the owner of the money a fee for storage and for processing transactions, but also, sometimes, pay interest for the banks' use of it. Some banks speculate unwisely and lose their customers' funds." She grimaced. "Then there is a terrible fuss, and government enquiries, and sometimes trials for illegal behaviour, and some bankers may lose their positions - but at the end of it their customers still don't have their money. So a Muggle needs to judge what is the best bank to have an account at, that is, safest, and also paying best interest, and in other ways meeting one's needs - or try to judge, because most of them (and I'm no different, in that world) don't have enough information to choose wisely, even if they're prepared to do the work.
"I can guide you through a summary of how this system works, but I'm not a banker or an economist." Severus saw Lucius's eyebrows wrinkle at the unfamiliar word, and so did she, for she waved a hand dismissively. "If you had to live in the Muggle world permanently, you would need to address this problem, just as I would."
"Where do you keep your money, Miss Granger?"
She smiled, Severus thought with approval. "Most of it, with Gringotts, now that we've worked past the matter of the dragon. But also some in the Muggle world, for use there, or for dire emergencies." Her smile vanished. "No more like the last, I hope."
Severus and Lucius both nodded involuntarily, Lucius with vigour.
"So you think our system better?"
"I think it simpler," she said frankly. "I don't need more complex research in my life for a matter which I can trust the goblins, at least, to handle honestly - at least by their lights.
"So, do you want more information on Muggle money now?"
"No. Explain as we go along, I think, as occasion requires. Now give me the summary on Muggle communications."
Lucius wasn't thick; he had already grasped that the Muggle world was confusing, chaotic even, to its inhabitants, if tolerably so, as they managed to live in it anyway; and would be to him also.
"We talk on the Floo, read the wizarding newspapers and journals, have the wizarding wireless - including the capacity for illicit broadcast, as Potterwatch proved - and wizards with enough skill can employ charms like the Patronus to send individual messages. No doubt the Unspeakables," she glanced at Severus, "have or are working on other ways."
He shrugged noncommittally. Naturally secretive, and trained in extreme caution by experience, he adapted readily to the Unspeakable code of silence.
She didn't wait for an answer. "Muggles have all these save charms, to a much greater degree of complexity - they are greater in numbers, and have more variation between them, and between their needs and interests, so that's natural. They have also developed much more complicated technologies which in many cases," her voice became dry, "are much easier to use, and more efficient also, than wizarding methods.
"Later, I'll show you my computer, which is both tool and toy. It allows me to communicate, virtually instantly, across the world; to conduct research in an enormous range of resources - including books held in libraries; provides a substitute for many forms of Arithmantic calculation; and would enable me, if I had the talent, to create art - music, architecture, painting and drawing - or at least to design it. It also can be used to design almost anything - complex processes requiring skills and special tools.
"Computers, and other simpler devices, allow for a great variety of entertainment - the thing Muggleborn children miss most when they go to Hogwarts!"
She leaned forward. "That's one reason I shall be glad you won't have a wand with you, Mr Malfoy. Magic upsets computers. Terminally. Clever Muggleborns have managed to develop charms to protect music players, and some games machines, but no one has worked out yet how to insulate so sophisticated a machine as a computer from magic. So that's a disadvantage I have to cater for, if I want to use my computer - which I do.
"A lot of the things I’ll be teaching you to do, one can manage with a computer, and they're becoming more complex and more capable every year. But keeping a witch or wizard from using magic without thinking about the damage it would do is almost impossible."
"So that warning is to my address," Severus remarked. "No magic near your computer. So noted."
"No wandless magic, either."
"What's the range?" Lucius demanded, suddenly interested.
Miss Granger was temporarily taken aback. "I've never looked into it," she admitted. "I just saw we couldn't use Muggle technology at Hogwarts, and later one of my friends trashed my first computer - I was lucky it was still under warranty, and was replaced, though the technicians never could think of a reason why all its systems failed."
"It would be worth investigating, if this fancy toy is also a tool such as you describe," Lucius commented, and said no more.
Severus knew, if Miss Granger didn't, that Lucius was planning for disaster again: if this course of Muggle Studies was preliminary to true exile, now or at the whim of some later Ministry, he intended to be as well equipped for it as possible.
"So, Mr Malfoy: when do you want to start?"
Lucius shrugged. "I can safeguard my wand. Why not now? Once we agree a location."
"Canterbury?"
"Nowhere in the south of England. You may have familiarity; I may have acquaintance."
Severus said dryly, "I wouldn't recommend the slums of Manchester. I escaped them once, and not even for you, Lucius, would I willingly return."
"Nowhere Third World," Miss Granger said immediately, and Severus was amused again, at himself this time, that he found the label offensive. He knew some Muggle students of societies would have considered it accurate, but he didn't want to be reminded of the fears and problems of his childhood.
To pay her back, he said, "I think Lucius would learn faster and manage better in a true Third World country than you; but that's not the Wizengamot's intent."
"Somewhere relatively well-managed, clean, or cleanish, and large enough to afford us complexity," she suggested, not responding to his gambit. "We don't need to make this more difficult than it should be."
"Glasgow?" Severus proposed. "Has any of us been there?"
Both shook their heads.
"Good. With any luck it's as clean as any modern Muggle city. And has no doubt developed its 'heritage', just as Manchester has. No advance research using your computer, Miss Granger! You and Lucius should start on an equal footing."
"Very well," she agreed, "but we'll stay out of the slums of Glasgow, too, what's left of them, provided we can identify unsafe areas in time."
"I'll need to get Muggle money from Gringotts," Lucius said, and Severus nodded. He too had no Muggle resources to draw on.
Miss Granger shook her head. "Kingsley Shacklebolt has provided funds. He'll bill you for them later." Lucius grimaced at that. "There's enough to meet your needs for a few days too, Severus, and I can draw more, easily."
She handed over a wallet to Lucius - leather, Severus saw, and well-made, though not as elegant as Lucius would have liked - and no doubt that too was part of the course of Muggle Studies, that Lucius need not expect the quality of either goods or services that he could buy in the wizarding world.
Lucius investigated immediately, sorting out the strange paper notes by value, then going through the coinage. There was also a small set of plastic cards. He held them up in query.
"One is a common credit card - another Muggle habit. One need not carry around vast sums in galleons - though for criminal intent, cash is still best."
Lucius didn't respond to her reminder of his former habit of bribing Ministers of Magic in public. Perhaps he didn't consider that criminal behaviour; just injudicious.
She went on, "The card isn't activated yet. Part of the learning process, going into a bank and queuing up for service."
"One does that in Gringotts," Lucius pointed out.
Severus spoke before she could. "Not the way one does in a Muggle bank, especially at lunchtime. What else have you there, Lucius?"
Lucius held out the cards; Severus picked them over. "Driving licence. Official approval to drive a car. Don't try it. Useful as a way of proving one's identity. At least the Muggles here haven't introduced identity cards yet, as some countries do."
"Allow oneself to be identified at any time?" Lucius asked, no doubt horrified at this bar to easy criminal activity.
"No worse than tracing wand signature," Miss Granger pointed out. "Though officially that's not done now." That 'officially' showed that she was as sceptical as the two men about that wartime practice: it might not be done now, save by Hit Wizards chasing actual thieves and murderers, but the means remained available to any Ministry Department, and the Aurors, at least, were still recovering from two generations of sanctioned corrupt behaviour and almost certainly lapsed into old habits sometimes.
Severus returned to the bits of shiny plastic, moving them about to see the holograms shift images, then showed the effect to Lucius.
"A device against forgery?" Lucius asked. No, not stupid, Lucius; he would learn Miss Granger's lessons fast.
She nodded, and identified the purposes of the rest of the collection, including the debit card. Lucius was confused about its purpose, until she explained, "Using it is like going to your vault. It's your own money you're taking from the bank's care. You can get cash with the credit card, too, but that's like borrowing from the goblins: they charge you for the privilege."
Last, Hermione explained the coinage, and paper money, and gave their current Gringotts exchange rates.
Lucius set the money and cards on the table by his chair, then held the empty wallet out to Severus. "Duplicate this for yourself. I don't suppose," he looked momentarily amused, "we can duplicate the money?"
"Oddly enough," Miss Granger said, herself smiling, "Gringotts doesn't approve of that. Any more than they'd like it if you tried to duplicate the bank cards, which are stiff with security charms. Their general charms prevent anything more complex than the overnight transfiguration of other objects to coins. You remember how that got Ludo Bagman into such trouble, trying to pay his debts that way?" Both men nodded, Lucius with a malicious grin. She was diverted, and added, "It would be interesting, trying to develop such charms. Very high level work, I should think - something for their best curse-breakers, acting as security."
"Not now, Miss Wants-To-Know-It-All," Severus said firmly, and she laughed.
"Not now," she agreed.
Severus made himself a wallet, then Lucius divided up the money - being scrupulous about making sure it was evenly - but slipped the cards back into their slots in his original wallet.
"Last thing, clothing. Severus, can you transform your clothes, and Lucius's, or shall I? And you both need to pack. So why not meet again tomorrow, with that all done, at nine, and set off for Glasgow?"
"Ah, a last chance to use my wand!" Lucius sighed melodramatically. "I'll do my own, if you have models to show me. I recall the very strange outfits given by the Ministry to visitors to the Muggle world. Most wizards can't have any idea of how Muggles dress, for I've never heard of anyone rejecting that clothing, yet it was very… oddly assorted."
"I have no idea what's been in fashion for the last - oh, twenty-five years," Severus admitted. "But I'd bet fashion varies more than ever now, going by what Muggleborn students turn up in at Hogwarts."
"Fashion's a fairly flexible concept for most people," Miss Granger agreed. " I take it you, Mr Malfoy, would prefer fairly formal dress, and you, Severus, something conservative, but not necessarily formal?"
"How well you know us, Hermione," Severus answered, determined to start using her first name, since she had used his twice in a few minutes. Perhaps she hadn't thought it necessary to invite him.
"I'll owl you some magazines shortly after I get back to my desk," she said.
When she had gone, escorted by both of them to the entrance, and they had returned to Lucius's study, he said, "I'd better not order brandy. I'd probably drink too much of it to be able to cope with Miss Granger in the morning. Severus, what can we find out about Glasgow before then? Are there any wizards we know there who might give us information?"
~~~!!!~~~
Part 2
Author leni_jess
Title Muggle Studies for Mature Students
Rating R
Warnings None
Word count ~13,550 words
Summary Post-war, Lucius Malfoy's rehabilitation includes an officially-mandated Muggle Studies course - taken without wand, in the Muggle world, under the tutelage of Miss Hermione Granger. Whom Lucius remembers quite well. He enlists Severus Snape to protect him from a not-undeserved revenge, but Hermione as well as he forgets that Real Life tends to mess up even a little light pay-back.
Author's notes This was written for reynardo in the 2011 sshg_exchange. Thanks to my beta reader (my brother) for long-suffering, helpful comments and discussion, and the suggestion twisted rather than taken. Thanks also to the Exchange Mods, for running it once again!
Muggle Studies for Mature Students
by Leni Jess
Severus sat back and savoured the last of his coffee, waiting for Lucius to get around to asking whatever this dinner was partial advance payment for. Lucius was complaining in a tired way about about a tired subject: his house arrest. Narcissa of course had been rewarded rather than penalised, after the Battle of Hogwarts, and Draco had been excused his dangerous activities on the grounds of youth and coercion. However, though the Wizengamot had not sent Lucius to Azkaban for his beliefs, and his actions from earlier years, it had penned him up in Malfoy Manor for an indeterminate time.
The last two years had given Severus himself time to recover, and to accustom himself to freedom from the mastery of others. It had even given Lucius time to reflect on his mistakes and how to remedy them, as distinct from his unthinking revulsion from Voldemort's service when he understood how his master endangered his family. That didn't mean Lucius accepted his penalty as just, naturally; it did mean he used his time of confinement as productively as possible, engaged in research on practically anything a wizard could do with the resources of his own home. Especially after Narcissa had left him, once she thought he had recovered from those last years, first in Azkaban and then tormented by Voldemort. He had to be grateful to her for her kindness in postponing her departure until she knew he could manage alone, even as he was humiliated by it. Keeping busy, he could tell himself he was doing useful work, and preparing for the day he should be free again.
Lucius moved from complaint to surprisingly nervous chatter, still without coming to the point, so Severus in mercy decided to give him an opening.
"Are you expecting Draco home for the summer, or is his apprenticeship keeping him in Vienna?"
"He's coming home for the Midsummer ceremonies, and staying a few days, but his master wants him to join him on a summer project in Greece." Lucius smiled wryly, losing some of his agitation. "Draco isn't averse to seeing what a Mediterranean summer can be like. Even after his hard work with Flitwick that final year at Hogwarts, Master Baumgartner believes he has a lot of catching up to do. In any case, it's good for him to be out of England, just now."
That hardly needed saying. In spite of his own rehabilitation in the wizarding eye, and the fairly general acknowledgement of the Slytherin students who had returned to Hogwarts to take part in the Battle with Potter, rather than with the late Voldemort, Slytherins still encountered prejudice and insult, and even violence. After his two years under Voldemort's thumb, Draco needed peace and security. Much of Lucius's acceptance of the Charms Master's whims derived from his knowledge that Ulrich Baumgartner gave those to Draco, where his father could not.
"He could have joined Shacklebolt's apprentices - whatever their official title, the Minister is training those children to rise in the Ministry as well as to do his errands and his research."
Lucius shrugged. "He would have had to associate with the Granger girl, as well as more acceptable purebloods like Lovegood and Abbott. Relationships at school become too intense, turn inward too much - you know that, Severus. They could all use a little distance, I imagine - certainly Shacklebolt doesn't seem to let his 'executive assistants' flock together much."
Lucius reached for the wine bottle and poured them both a last glass. Severus was silent out of respect for the elf-made wine from the Allier region of France - yet another indication that Lucius saw this evening as one where it was important to have Severus both mellow and cooperative.
As he lifted his glass with a slight inclination of his head to his younger friend, Lucius murmured, "You must have wondered, Severus, how it was I got you away from the Shack where the Dark Lord left you. Without a wand."
"Often," Severus responded, "though I assumed you had a wand, but were not acknowledging that in case the Aurors or the Wizengamot confiscated it. You've always avoided discussing it."
Severus hadn't pressed Lucius for information; it was enough to be indebted, but to know that Lucius saw himself as owing Severus something for leading him into Voldemort's clutches: things balanced out.
"No. I gave you a place to recover, and naturally Cissa made sure you had the best Healers."
Severus knew she too was conscious of being in his debt, which was fair enough. There had been no need to point out that Dumbledore would have insisted on his striving to shelter Draco even had there been no Unbreakable Vow.
"It was a witch, not I, who tended those ghastly wounds, then gave me your wand so I could Apparate you here. She made me promise not to speak of it to you - wand oath, not an Unbreakable, but still… I swore on your wand. A promise I don't care to break. Explicitly."
Lucius slipped a hand into his pocket and brought out a few Chocolate Frog cards. Idly he scattered them on the table so that Severus could see them all. Severus rolled his eyes. The Heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts had extended the range of Chocolate Frog cards considerably. Even he himself featured on one. He glanced down at the expected trio of Potter, Granger and Weasley, and the less expected Longbottom (whose clumsiness seemed to have vanished entirely in that last dreadful year; he had certainly dealt with Nagini expeditiously). Severus frowned. Three wizards; one witch. He looked at Lucius, raising an eyebrow in query. Lucius didn't nod, but he smiled, then collected up the cards again.
So. He had Miss Granger to thank. Thoughtful of her to try to keep that knowledge from him. Immediately after the battle, or during his convalescence, he might have wasted energy resenting her interference. For a long time, after all, it had seemed that his recovery would be partial; that his voice, his magic, even his ability to walk without halting, might be permanently affected. His life had not been so wonderful that he welcomed its continuance in what had looked like a state even worse than when he had been a slave to both Voldemort and Dumbledore. Now, though, he could acknowledge that he was glad to be alive, and whole. The girl had done a better job than St Mungo's had done on Arthur Weasley; his Healer (not a fan of the hospital which had trained him) had said as much, though at the time Severus had sniffed disbelievingly.
Severus smiled. How amusing to have the secret that little Miss Know-It-All thought safe from him. How foolish of her, not to realise how easily Lucius could make a way around the promise she had extracted. Someone should tutor her in dealing with Slytherins: she would need it in the Ministry, after all; not all of Shacklebolt's industrious young recruits were Gryffindors - or Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs, either. How remarkable to find someone who could be even-handed with members of all four Hogwarts houses. Since Shacklebolt appeared to be training them ultimately to take over the Ministry, perhaps the wizarding world might have peace for a while. Perhaps he would make occasion to go upstairs from his workroom in the Unspeakables' domain to the Minister's, and drop Miss Granger a few useful hints.
She was clearly better in an emergency than she had once been - though he did remember how without prompting she had conjured a vial to hold the memories he had desperately tried to give Potter. Perhaps, after the three of them ran off to investigate his gift - as he had wished them, or at least Potter, to do - she had realised that Severus had still been alive: hardly breathing, only marginally aware, but certainly still bleeding. She must have come back almost immediately, though he had been unconscious by then. When had she recruited Lucius to his aid? Lucius had been concentrating wholly on finding and protecting his son; how had she got his attention long enough to ensure he would help Severus to safety? It might be amusing, also, to see how much detail he could get out of her. Lucius wasn't going to speak, not with a wand oath binding his voice. Perhaps, later, he could induce Miss Granger to release him from that oath: Severus might find Lucius's account entertaining.
Lucius surprised him by confirming that he had found Miss Granger at least impressive, and perhaps even terrifying.
"I remembered her, of course, and she certainly remembered me. I had hoped, once you were safe, never to need to speak with her again. She embarrasses me, even after all this time, even though I couldn't have restrained Bellatrix; and I'm sure she makes no allowance for my position then, and hates me."
Lucius set down his wine glass, empty now, and spread his hands. "I'd like you to help me, Severus. Shacklebolt - though formally it's the Wizengamot's ruling - has decreed I may be released from house arrest if I prove I can adapt to, and civilly interact with, Muggles."
Severus was almost surprised into laughter, but no self-protective Slytherin would laugh at a friend who was both disconcerted and in desperate need.
"How are you to demonstrate this?"
"Undertake Muggle Studies, thirty years after I've left school. That's what it amounts to."
Severus shrugged. "For your freedom, you can't do that?"
"I can do a great deal more, believe me," Lucius responded warmly. "If I could survive Voldemort - however barely - I can deal with Muggles, if I must."
So Lucius wasn't refusing the assignment. "You need a guide? It's many years since I left my father's world behind, Lucius."
"But you must remember so much! You can reacquaint yourself - if you're willing. No; I don't need a guide. Shacklebolt has appointed me one. Guide; tutor; warder; spy - who knows?"
It all came together for Severus: this dinner, Lucius's nervousness, his betrayal of Miss Granger - and Severus by now knew Kingsley Shacklebolt's sense of humour quite well, too. (There was another one whom peace had relieved of many burdens, even as it had imposed others on him; Shacklebolt could laugh, now, and relax, as Severus had learned to do.)
So Lucius wanted someone to protect him from the attentions of Miss Granger, who would undoubtedly get a little mild revenge, if only in passing, even as she solemnly carried out her assignment. Severus really wanted to laugh, now, but he kept his laughter inside, to relish the situation when he was alone.
"It is, perhaps, time I reacquainted myself with that side of my heritage," he answered blandly, and saw Lucius relax.
How interesting, that a little snip of a bossy bookworm could create such anxiety in a man like Lucius, without having spoken to him in two years.
~~~!!!~~~
Lucius's Patronus surprised Severus at the Ministry, but only because he was concentrating on the difficult Old Slavic text he was deciphering, searching for the mythical potion that would enable Animagus transformation. The Firebird of legend hadn't come from nowhere, and the spells and mental disciplines that made Animagery possible for witches and wizards of determination and mental agility had been developed later.
He looked up at the silver owl circling his workroom, admiring again its beauty and its wingspread (however awkward that would be in a room much smaller than this): an eagle owl of some kind, possibly the same as Isreya, the lovely sand-coloured creature that Lucius could now acknowledge as his familiar, with Voldemort gone. Their late lord had not believed anyone but himself entitled to a familiar, especially one of such grace as this, any more than he had approved of the use of the Patronus Charm, being himself without sufficient happy memories to cast it. Maybe that was the source of the belief that Death Eaters as a group were unable to cast it. Foolish. Ordinary wizards, even those eaten up with pride, ambition and fear, usually had some happy memories to call upon, however slight and however far in their pasts. Even he had such memories. Lucius had relished the freedom at last to work with his Patronus, and using the charm made sending messages much faster than using even the best post owl, even Isreya herself, bred for swift flight and magical endurance.
Having got his attention, the silver bird alighted on a chair back, and in Lucius's voice said, "Come as soon as you may, please. My guide is here."
"I can come now," Severus responded, charming the ancient text shut and locking it away swiftly in his triply sealed work cabinet.
He summoned his cloak with a wand flick, slung it around his shoulders, and gestured the insubstantial creature away. It lifted into flight, circled once, and vanished.
Severus strode to the Unspeakables' communal Apparition point, and Disapparated for Malfoy Manor. These days, favoured visitors need not walk up from the gates, but could alight in the shelter of the wide porch before the Manor's imposing front door.
Miss Granger looked older, better dressed, and more self-confident than he remembered her save in the company of books or her heedless friends, both of whom, for their sins, were undergoing Auror training with no special allowances.
She was surprised to see him, though she recovered quickly, and even smiled at him with apparent sincerity. "Professor Snape! How good to see you looking so well."
Brave of her, he thought; and responded, "Just 'Mister' will do. Or even 'Severus', since we are to be colleagues, I understand, and you are no longer a child under my authority."
If she thought that meant he would refrain from exercising as much authority over her as he could grasp, she was deluded; but she had never been stupid, and her smile turned wry.
It didn't take long to establish that while Lucius was willing to comply with the conditions of his release, he wasn't ready to allow Miss Granger to direct his every move. She was surprisingly agreeable to including Severus in the Muggle orientation course - did she think he would support her? Perhaps she simply hoped he might be a voice of reason. She was unmoved, however, by Lucius's insistence that he needed his wand.
She said briskly, "Your notification from the Wizengamot included the requirement that this exercise was to be undertaken without your wand. No, Mr Malfoy, you don't need protection from Muggles. In any case, you will have not only me to assist you - and I have been trained for this - but also Severus. If you feel he might be incompetent to guard you, take it up with him."
This flagrant sowing of discord did not succeed, though she had probably not meant it seriously. Severus smirked faintly, and Lucius scowled.
His next objection was to the location of his undesired entry to the Muggle world. "Not London - you will know it well, yes? And be at an advantage. I will not be able to tell whether your teachings are effective, or simply the result of experience. If I am to learn to navigate, to live, even to thrive, in your parents' world, Miss Granger, I must insist we start on an equal footing, in a place as unfamiliar to you as to me, so that I can see for myself how much you are advantaged by your childhood in that world, and how much research and experiment you need to undertake to accomplish whatever you expect me to learn. And I do hope," he finished, "that this course has a curriculum, and that you plan to share it with me."
If she was offended, she hid it well. "I made a list of things I thought you should be able to do, and also a list of options you could choose, later, if you wished. It starts simple: finding your way in a Muggle town, using its public transport, using its money to pay for whatever you need. Later, learning the complexities of how Muggle money works - not how it equates to galleons, sickles and knuts, but that its worth in relation to other currencies varies over time and change of circumstance, and how you may access that information; and how Muggle money is stored, protected, and accessed. Using Muggle means of communication, starting with the simplest."
"Wait," Lucius demanded.
She arched an eyebrow at him, a trick she hadn't mastered as a schoolgirl. Severus was amused, but flattered, too, that she should work to emulate one of his skills, one that he earlier had copied from Lucius.
"Why this emphasis on Muggle money? What more is there, than equivalent values, such as the goblins use when they provide Muggleborn children and their parents with wizarding currency?"
"If you want to start with an issue most Muggles have a very poor grasp of…"
She waited, inviting him to retract his demand, but Lucius responded, "I don't need to be at more of a disadvantage than I am."
"Very well." She settled back in her chair. "This isn't short. The wizarding world has one currency, one bank, and the goblins control both. The only circumstance likely to change the price of wizarding articles is demand, or scarcity: a poor season meaning fresh vegetables are hard to get, a new fashion for something not easy to make, that cannot be created with magic, however skilled."
Lucius nodded. "A restaurant with an accomplished cook charges more once it is established in public esteem - but after that, the prices don't change, except for dishes requiring seasonal items."
"Gamp's law," Severus agreed. "Food - as I'm sure you learned the hard way in what should have been your final year at school, Miss Granger - cannot be conjured. Neither can certain other items, though they may be changed somewhat by magic."
"Clothing for a child can be transfigured long-term, but only to a certain point," said Lucius. He smiled. "We learned that when it was no longer possible for Draco to fit into his favourite clothes for playing in the woods."
"So you understand that. But Muggle countries each have their own currencies, with different coins (and paper notes for higher values). Their value in relation to each other changes in response to perceived value - some of which may be egregious error, but that doesn't matter to the money market; the change still occurs, and affects everyone. Muggles also have many banks, not one. They contract to protect customers' funds, and make use of them in their own speculations - and charge the owner of the money a fee for storage and for processing transactions, but also, sometimes, pay interest for the banks' use of it. Some banks speculate unwisely and lose their customers' funds." She grimaced. "Then there is a terrible fuss, and government enquiries, and sometimes trials for illegal behaviour, and some bankers may lose their positions - but at the end of it their customers still don't have their money. So a Muggle needs to judge what is the best bank to have an account at, that is, safest, and also paying best interest, and in other ways meeting one's needs - or try to judge, because most of them (and I'm no different, in that world) don't have enough information to choose wisely, even if they're prepared to do the work.
"I can guide you through a summary of how this system works, but I'm not a banker or an economist." Severus saw Lucius's eyebrows wrinkle at the unfamiliar word, and so did she, for she waved a hand dismissively. "If you had to live in the Muggle world permanently, you would need to address this problem, just as I would."
"Where do you keep your money, Miss Granger?"
She smiled, Severus thought with approval. "Most of it, with Gringotts, now that we've worked past the matter of the dragon. But also some in the Muggle world, for use there, or for dire emergencies." Her smile vanished. "No more like the last, I hope."
Severus and Lucius both nodded involuntarily, Lucius with vigour.
"So you think our system better?"
"I think it simpler," she said frankly. "I don't need more complex research in my life for a matter which I can trust the goblins, at least, to handle honestly - at least by their lights.
"So, do you want more information on Muggle money now?"
"No. Explain as we go along, I think, as occasion requires. Now give me the summary on Muggle communications."
Lucius wasn't thick; he had already grasped that the Muggle world was confusing, chaotic even, to its inhabitants, if tolerably so, as they managed to live in it anyway; and would be to him also.
"We talk on the Floo, read the wizarding newspapers and journals, have the wizarding wireless - including the capacity for illicit broadcast, as Potterwatch proved - and wizards with enough skill can employ charms like the Patronus to send individual messages. No doubt the Unspeakables," she glanced at Severus, "have or are working on other ways."
He shrugged noncommittally. Naturally secretive, and trained in extreme caution by experience, he adapted readily to the Unspeakable code of silence.
She didn't wait for an answer. "Muggles have all these save charms, to a much greater degree of complexity - they are greater in numbers, and have more variation between them, and between their needs and interests, so that's natural. They have also developed much more complicated technologies which in many cases," her voice became dry, "are much easier to use, and more efficient also, than wizarding methods.
"Later, I'll show you my computer, which is both tool and toy. It allows me to communicate, virtually instantly, across the world; to conduct research in an enormous range of resources - including books held in libraries; provides a substitute for many forms of Arithmantic calculation; and would enable me, if I had the talent, to create art - music, architecture, painting and drawing - or at least to design it. It also can be used to design almost anything - complex processes requiring skills and special tools.
"Computers, and other simpler devices, allow for a great variety of entertainment - the thing Muggleborn children miss most when they go to Hogwarts!"
She leaned forward. "That's one reason I shall be glad you won't have a wand with you, Mr Malfoy. Magic upsets computers. Terminally. Clever Muggleborns have managed to develop charms to protect music players, and some games machines, but no one has worked out yet how to insulate so sophisticated a machine as a computer from magic. So that's a disadvantage I have to cater for, if I want to use my computer - which I do.
"A lot of the things I’ll be teaching you to do, one can manage with a computer, and they're becoming more complex and more capable every year. But keeping a witch or wizard from using magic without thinking about the damage it would do is almost impossible."
"So that warning is to my address," Severus remarked. "No magic near your computer. So noted."
"No wandless magic, either."
"What's the range?" Lucius demanded, suddenly interested.
Miss Granger was temporarily taken aback. "I've never looked into it," she admitted. "I just saw we couldn't use Muggle technology at Hogwarts, and later one of my friends trashed my first computer - I was lucky it was still under warranty, and was replaced, though the technicians never could think of a reason why all its systems failed."
"It would be worth investigating, if this fancy toy is also a tool such as you describe," Lucius commented, and said no more.
Severus knew, if Miss Granger didn't, that Lucius was planning for disaster again: if this course of Muggle Studies was preliminary to true exile, now or at the whim of some later Ministry, he intended to be as well equipped for it as possible.
"So, Mr Malfoy: when do you want to start?"
Lucius shrugged. "I can safeguard my wand. Why not now? Once we agree a location."
"Canterbury?"
"Nowhere in the south of England. You may have familiarity; I may have acquaintance."
Severus said dryly, "I wouldn't recommend the slums of Manchester. I escaped them once, and not even for you, Lucius, would I willingly return."
"Nowhere Third World," Miss Granger said immediately, and Severus was amused again, at himself this time, that he found the label offensive. He knew some Muggle students of societies would have considered it accurate, but he didn't want to be reminded of the fears and problems of his childhood.
To pay her back, he said, "I think Lucius would learn faster and manage better in a true Third World country than you; but that's not the Wizengamot's intent."
"Somewhere relatively well-managed, clean, or cleanish, and large enough to afford us complexity," she suggested, not responding to his gambit. "We don't need to make this more difficult than it should be."
"Glasgow?" Severus proposed. "Has any of us been there?"
Both shook their heads.
"Good. With any luck it's as clean as any modern Muggle city. And has no doubt developed its 'heritage', just as Manchester has. No advance research using your computer, Miss Granger! You and Lucius should start on an equal footing."
"Very well," she agreed, "but we'll stay out of the slums of Glasgow, too, what's left of them, provided we can identify unsafe areas in time."
"I'll need to get Muggle money from Gringotts," Lucius said, and Severus nodded. He too had no Muggle resources to draw on.
Miss Granger shook her head. "Kingsley Shacklebolt has provided funds. He'll bill you for them later." Lucius grimaced at that. "There's enough to meet your needs for a few days too, Severus, and I can draw more, easily."
She handed over a wallet to Lucius - leather, Severus saw, and well-made, though not as elegant as Lucius would have liked - and no doubt that too was part of the course of Muggle Studies, that Lucius need not expect the quality of either goods or services that he could buy in the wizarding world.
Lucius investigated immediately, sorting out the strange paper notes by value, then going through the coinage. There was also a small set of plastic cards. He held them up in query.
"One is a common credit card - another Muggle habit. One need not carry around vast sums in galleons - though for criminal intent, cash is still best."
Lucius didn't respond to her reminder of his former habit of bribing Ministers of Magic in public. Perhaps he didn't consider that criminal behaviour; just injudicious.
She went on, "The card isn't activated yet. Part of the learning process, going into a bank and queuing up for service."
"One does that in Gringotts," Lucius pointed out.
Severus spoke before she could. "Not the way one does in a Muggle bank, especially at lunchtime. What else have you there, Lucius?"
Lucius held out the cards; Severus picked them over. "Driving licence. Official approval to drive a car. Don't try it. Useful as a way of proving one's identity. At least the Muggles here haven't introduced identity cards yet, as some countries do."
"Allow oneself to be identified at any time?" Lucius asked, no doubt horrified at this bar to easy criminal activity.
"No worse than tracing wand signature," Miss Granger pointed out. "Though officially that's not done now." That 'officially' showed that she was as sceptical as the two men about that wartime practice: it might not be done now, save by Hit Wizards chasing actual thieves and murderers, but the means remained available to any Ministry Department, and the Aurors, at least, were still recovering from two generations of sanctioned corrupt behaviour and almost certainly lapsed into old habits sometimes.
Severus returned to the bits of shiny plastic, moving them about to see the holograms shift images, then showed the effect to Lucius.
"A device against forgery?" Lucius asked. No, not stupid, Lucius; he would learn Miss Granger's lessons fast.
She nodded, and identified the purposes of the rest of the collection, including the debit card. Lucius was confused about its purpose, until she explained, "Using it is like going to your vault. It's your own money you're taking from the bank's care. You can get cash with the credit card, too, but that's like borrowing from the goblins: they charge you for the privilege."
Last, Hermione explained the coinage, and paper money, and gave their current Gringotts exchange rates.
Lucius set the money and cards on the table by his chair, then held the empty wallet out to Severus. "Duplicate this for yourself. I don't suppose," he looked momentarily amused, "we can duplicate the money?"
"Oddly enough," Miss Granger said, herself smiling, "Gringotts doesn't approve of that. Any more than they'd like it if you tried to duplicate the bank cards, which are stiff with security charms. Their general charms prevent anything more complex than the overnight transfiguration of other objects to coins. You remember how that got Ludo Bagman into such trouble, trying to pay his debts that way?" Both men nodded, Lucius with a malicious grin. She was diverted, and added, "It would be interesting, trying to develop such charms. Very high level work, I should think - something for their best curse-breakers, acting as security."
"Not now, Miss Wants-To-Know-It-All," Severus said firmly, and she laughed.
"Not now," she agreed.
Severus made himself a wallet, then Lucius divided up the money - being scrupulous about making sure it was evenly - but slipped the cards back into their slots in his original wallet.
"Last thing, clothing. Severus, can you transform your clothes, and Lucius's, or shall I? And you both need to pack. So why not meet again tomorrow, with that all done, at nine, and set off for Glasgow?"
"Ah, a last chance to use my wand!" Lucius sighed melodramatically. "I'll do my own, if you have models to show me. I recall the very strange outfits given by the Ministry to visitors to the Muggle world. Most wizards can't have any idea of how Muggles dress, for I've never heard of anyone rejecting that clothing, yet it was very… oddly assorted."
"I have no idea what's been in fashion for the last - oh, twenty-five years," Severus admitted. "But I'd bet fashion varies more than ever now, going by what Muggleborn students turn up in at Hogwarts."
"Fashion's a fairly flexible concept for most people," Miss Granger agreed. " I take it you, Mr Malfoy, would prefer fairly formal dress, and you, Severus, something conservative, but not necessarily formal?"
"How well you know us, Hermione," Severus answered, determined to start using her first name, since she had used his twice in a few minutes. Perhaps she hadn't thought it necessary to invite him.
"I'll owl you some magazines shortly after I get back to my desk," she said.
When she had gone, escorted by both of them to the entrance, and they had returned to Lucius's study, he said, "I'd better not order brandy. I'd probably drink too much of it to be able to cope with Miss Granger in the morning. Severus, what can we find out about Glasgow before then? Are there any wizards we know there who might give us information?"
~~~!!!~~~
Part 2