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With Good Intentions	By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 12248 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing of HP nor do I profit in any way from these missives. I almost own the house I'm writing this fanfic in, tho'.

Chapter List
- 12
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- 14
The next disruption to Lucius’ long-term freedom crashed into their bedroom one week before Hermione’s final licensing exam. The owl carried a Dissendium spell on its feathers that released the latch on the cottage window and allowed the flea-bitten excuse for an avian to flap ineffectively around the canopy of the four-poster bed where Hermione lay between Lucius’ legs practicing the ancient art of giving head.

“Blast it all — WHAT’S THAT BLOODY OWL DOING IN HERE!?”

Invested in finishing her lesson, Hermione responded by increasing the suction on his lower head while licking the seam at the back of his glans. Mere seconds brought her an “A” in the subject for this assignment.
With Lucius’ hand wave, the bird fell on the bed - provoking a squeak from his partner as she scrambled sideways to avoid being assaulted by what looked to be a dead owl.

“Lucius!”
“IT FLEW INTO OUR BEDROOM! IT OPENED THE FUCKING WINDOW, HERMIONE! HAVE I NO RIGHTS IN THIS WORLD ANYMORE!?”

Checking for life signs, Hermione confirmed the seriousness of the bird’s presence.

“It’s alive. The parchment is from the Ministry —”
“At this hour!? Why would the Wizen—”
“From the civil division. I’ve been called as a prosecution witness… A hostile witness. Molly and Arthur are suing you for damages for Fred’s death.”
“Ha! Let them! I didn’t kill him and a Prior Incantato will prove it!”
“No — you don’t understand. As a hostile witness they can demand the use of Veritaserum on me…”

She hadn’t shed one tear throughout her ordeal to see justice done. Until now.

“I can teach you to overcome the effects of the potion.”
“Lucius, the strategy for your entire defense is in my head. If you use Occlumency, the judge will grant them a summary judgment against you. If their family solicitor gets me on the stand, not only will he drag my plans for defending you out in the open, but if I lie… if I perjure myself to protect you… I’ll be banned from getting my license. For life…”

To see her afraid and without options rankled…

“That’s why you’ve partnered with a Slytherin, my love. Freshen up and we’ll meet with the stationary member of the “Save Lucius’ Handsome Arse” triumvirate.”

Five weeks later found him furiously filling pensieve jars. Given the events of the last five years, the last few weeks had brought abundant victories.

Five Weeks Prior…

“And you’re sure of this?”
“Yes. Potter made the mistake of leaving the portraits up at Grimmauld Place when he and that she-bitch moved nearer to her mother. Kreacher serves Potter but he’s loyal to the Blacks.
“Hermione —“ Narcissa explained patiently to the frazzled woman-child, “you have to understand. Regulations and statutes in the wizarding world have been written for centuries to benefit pure-bloods. We were so successful for so long, we got sloppy. That language will prevent anyone from trying this again and will protect you both.”
“The question, little one, is are you brave enough to step up our revolution? Does your courage stop at seeing justice done for me?”

Good question.

“What you suggest,” Hermione mused aloud as she paced Narcissa’s war room in the cottage, “would truly end the war. It would tip the balance so Molly and her band of segregationists would get the hands they’ve stuffed up the Ministry’s back completely severed.”
“If it works —” Narcissa cautioned, in full disclosure, to the lone Gryffidor in the group.
“If it works and we’re able to pull it off. No backing out halfway or you two ladies will have only your memories of me to keep you warm at night.”

Both women smiled at his ability to inject humor into a situation that could disintegrate into his true death. No portrait could capture the essential spark of a person executed by a Dementor. Draco had no remnant in this world for his family to commune with.

“I don’t see that we have a choice,” Hermione sighed, “but I won’t do this without Narcissa’s agreement.”

The never-aging beauty in the portrait smiled gratefully to be considered in death.

“I’m touched by your regard, Hermione. I ask one boon in exchange for my blessing.”
“And that is, lover?” Lucius prompted, a look of affection, understanding and attraction taking over his features.
“That you allow me to become part of your lives, keep my painting close. And possibly rescue my Hogwarts graduation portrait from that nauseatingly cheerful room the Potters have it stuffed in.”
“Done! I am so fortunate to have the two most beautiful, most brilliant, most cunning and most desirable women at my disposal.”
“Stop patting yourself on the back. You’ll handle the next phase, Narcissa?”
“Already in progress as I anticipated your agreement. I’ll leave the potion brewing and spell modification to you. Thank you for caring for my family, Hermione.”
“I didn’t save Draco…”
“All things in time, little one, all things in time…”

Three Weeks Ago…

The “pop” of apparition occurred 26 times as the Official and the witness appeared in the room.

“Glad you could make it,” Lucius offered up as he extended his hand to the Official.
“Not sure I had a choice — not that I don’t appreciate the, uh, ‘challenges’ you’re facing.”
“I suspected you would. We all made choices… took actions… during the hostilities that I’m sure we’d rather forget if we can’t change them,” he considered thoughtfully, “As you can see, I’m not denying that better choices were possible. Hindsight tends to view all paths clearly.”

The frank gaze of the Ministry official (with the slightest non-British accent) assessed the wizard before him. Even the grownups had grown up — absent the advantages of, the terror of and the threat of Voldemort.

“If you have a moment, I think you will find it enlightening to speak with my elves. They have a unique perspective on this new world we’ve created for ourselves. Would you mind?”
“Not at all. We’ve been inundated with reports from St. Mungo’s — elves apparting into offices, walls even, Confunded — with their magic stunted by some complicated charm,” and they moved through the small group into a more secluded portion of the cottage for the interview.

In the background, Hermione smiled as she enjoyed the company of many she could no longer visit publicly. She introduced each “guest” to Narcissa’s portrait which had been brought down from its normal location to witness Step One of their plan.

“Are we ready?” someone called out.
“I think so. Lucius?”
“Never more so,” he answered teasingly as he and the Official sauntered into the transfigured parlor after the conversation with Winky and Kreacher.

In the event’s aftermath, with the exhausting fortnight they’d been through, both sought a long slumber. The ceremony and registration with the Ministry went off without a hitch, a rather unexpected boon given their objective to overthrow most of the magical government by indirect means.
Lucius, always more alive in a crisis, enfolded Hermione in his arms and let her sleep while he considered his role in their next steps, making mental notes of where he could improvise and where he’d have to drum up sufficient discipline to stick closely to their scheme — fully aware of what the two witches in his life would do to him if he cocked it up.

The witch in his arms stretched, rubbing her eyes like an adorable four-year-old.

“You’re beautiful.”
“Why did you let me sleep so long?”
“So you wish to abandon my embrace so quickly? I must be losing my ‘magic’.”

Rising, Hermione slapped him playfully then made her way into the adjoining en-suite bathroom. Five vessels lined the counter, labeled “One” through “Five”. In sequence, each held an opalescent green liquid that darkened as the number on the label increased. Without hesitation, she opened and chugged the content of each in a single swallow.

“Lucius?” she called out as her equilibrium wavered, “need your assistance here…”

In a moment he’d joined her, swept her into his arms and placed them both on their bed. After his graduation present to her of “oral sex education”, they’d cohabited in his bedroom to increase access for further “educational opportunities”.

“Are the potions —”
“No-no-no. I shouldn’t have taken them so fast. I’m fine.”
“You’re certain of this?”

He was not referencing her potion reaction.

“Yes. It would’ve happened anyway. We’ve proven your tongue and hands work between my thighs. Nice to see if anything else does.”
“There will be pain —”
“Lucius — stop stalling. I’ve read every book in your library. It’s bearable and temporary as long as it’s consensual, you’re not too big to fit —”
“Well, lover, we might as well cease before we begin. I may split you asunder!”
“I can handle you. As I was saying — if you’re not too massive for my petite proportions or if I’m not adequately prepared.”
“Let’s prepare you.”

Lucius never kissed her lips first — at least not the ones on her face. Skilled beyond description in the use of his lips in the most innocent and most arousing ways, the real Slytherin Sex God (senior, and only, edition) teased her earlobes, her nape, the hollow at her clavicle, her wrists, the backs of her hands and the valley between her breasts. While his mouth shut down bank after bank of processing power in that ever operating brain of hers, his hands lovingly traced the scars left from the year of war, each caress quieting the ever-present irritation she’d learned to ignore (as it never ceased). The arm braced under her shoulders, as she lay in it’s cradle, rolled her towards him to ease access to all of her.
The experienced Slytherin patiently counted each breath she inhaled. When she’d increased her respiration rate 20%, he knelt on his haunches between her legs and tugged her firm bum up his thighs until she nearly trapped his eggplant-colored erection against his belly. Grabbing himself, he began the newest subject in her sexual education.

“This will feel exquisite, lover, like nothing we’ve done before. You’re always such an active participant that I must warn you: if you squirm too much I will have to stop and situate you again. I’m sure neither of us wants to stop, do we?”

Looking at him but unable to actually focus, she begged —

“Please, Lucius…”
“I know, little one, I know. You’re ready to be pleasured. Do you still wish me to make a complete woman of you?”
“YES! Please…”

Chuckling at her need of him, Lucius couldn’t be prouder of her unabashed enjoyment of physical pleasure. She’d come so far so fast; tonight would complete her introductory course of study and they’d learn together from hereon in whatever time remained to him.
Pushing down on his bobbing member with two straightened fingers, Lucius poked his way past the light brown curls and flaps of skin that hid her most tender parts. Using the slightest side-to-side motion, he swept her engorged flower with his cock. Her reaction locked her legs around him and arced her off the bed.
She gasped then hissed, drawing in breath through her teeth as her nervous system dealt with the sensory overload.

“I take it you’d like me to continue?”

Her brain’s speech center had crashed and no longer worked.

“Very well, I’ll decide for both of us.”

Minutes or hours of his careful attentions kept her unbalanced without the ability to fall into the ecstasy both desired for her. When tears slid down the outside corners of her eyes, Lucius leaned forward — shifting his weight and angle to align with her — and entered her. His thumb picked up where his cock left off, strumming her bud to keep her desperate and wanting. Feeling resistance within her channel, he sped up thumb’s his pace on her flower.

She imploded and exploded.

Then she whimpered and cried out…
…but not from pain.

He’d penetrated her barrier of innocence. Her utterances expressed the intensity of sensations that possessed her. She’d never been lit up like an electrical transformer in all their “lessons”.

Under cover of her multiple orgasms, Lucius buried himself inside her inviolate sheath and rocked into her soft, ripe cervix with short, gentle strokes. The potion ignited her need of him, invented centuries ago by pure-bloods to handle reluctant virgins. The antidote to it effects lay inside Lucius; only his seed, painting her cervix and tunnel, could quell the imperative to couple with him.
More than an hour, and many releases from Hermione later, Lucius bellowed and groaned into her breast as he delivered a young man’s load of active seed into the warm and willing glove Hermione provided.
- 12
- 13
- 14
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With Good Intentions