Nothing Sensual About It | By : ShilohDarke Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 10770 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I Do NOT own anything of Harry Potter. I make no money in the sharing of this story. Everything you recognise belongs to JKR and Warner Bros. |
A/N: I THINK this story is just a ONE-SHOT. . . . I could be wrong... But I didn't want to do more than this to start. I think the story is good as is. But I will defer to the readers, because I believe you guys are the better judges!
LOL! Okay! By popular demnd to the reviewers, this will be a multichapter story after all. I swear I was so overwhelmed by all the positive feedback! I've started on Chapter 2 last night and I hope to have an update for all of you within the week! HUGS!
Nothing Sensual About It
What in the hell am I even doing here? She asked herself as she watched the couples dancing gracefully around the dance floor.
Hermione hated the Commemorative Ball. It had been thrown every single year after the Final Battle had finally been won. She didn’t want to be here. She hated coming. Yes, it was a way to celebrate the end of He who must not be named. She knew that better than just about everyone. But why did everything have to be celebrated by dancing? She had no reason to dance.
She and Ron had dated for a time after everything had settled down. But she found the only thing the two of them really had in common was a fair attraction to each other. Besides that, their goals and desires for the future were completely at odds. Her desires had been a position with the Department of Mysteries, where she had hoped to begin making a difference in the world.
His goals for the future however had been somewhat less productive. Actually, they were far simpler. He wanted to play professional Quidditch, while she stayed eternally barefoot and pregnant. Of course, when she had put her foot down to accepting that fate quietly, their relationship had dwindled into non-existence. But instead of coming out and telling her that if she didn’t want to follow his plans, he could just find someone else, he let her find out; by walking in on his shagging Lavender from behind on their bed.
So now, ten years had passed. She had followed her dreams and was working exactly where she had wanted to. She specialized in the care of magical artifacts hidden within the Muggle world. So far, she had helped to recover over five hundred items that could be potentially harmful if they had turned up in the wrong hands. She had a full life and had remained friends with Harry and Ginny, despite Ron’s snobby attitude.
She blew a breath out as she sank down into a nearby chair. She had been hurt by his deceit, but she had moved on. She wondered why he just couldn’t seem to do the same. He had what he had wanted. He was captain of his Quidditch team, which had just won the world cup for the fifth year in a row. He was married to Lavender and they had six children. She smirked, considering; if Molly’s hunch was correct, they actually had number seven on the way.
So why did he always seem to have to go out of his way to be cruel whenever they did see each other? She would have liked to be able to be friends again, but it just didn’t seem like it was ever going to happen, which was really ridiculous in her eyes, because he always acted as if she had wronged him. Pure poppycock! She thought with a shake of her head. She hadn’t been the one humping someone else in his bed!
Lavender had even come to her eventually and apologized even though the two of them had never really been good friends. But she had considered Hermione’s feelings and had tried to make amends. Ron, on the other hand couldn’t even just let it go. One way or another, he always tried to make her feel inferior.
As she watched the couples dance, she knew what his latest punch would be. “Why Hermione, no date? Poor girl! Better luck next year.” Then he’d snicker and promptly ignore her the rest of the night even though they would both be sitting at the same table as Harry. Unfortunately, there was no choice for that. The Golden Trio was always expected to sit together at this Ball.
Maybe that’s why I hate the damn thing so much! She mused as she stood and made her way toward the table where the others were sitting. It would do no good to put off the inevitable. The sooner she let him get his insults dealt, the sooner she could possibly enjoy something of the evening; like maybe a few stiff drinks.
She was almost to her table when raised voices drew her attention. Slowing her step, she turned to see two of her least favorite people sitting together pretending outrage at the audacity of a certain Lucius Malfoy being in attendance after ten years of being out of the public’s eye. Rita Skeeter and Delores Umbridge were sitting by themselves at a table that just happened to be next to the Malfoy’s reserved seats. They were raising their voices and eyeing Lucius as they spoke. He was sitting quite alone as Draco and his wife were dancing.
Hermione was not overly fond of the Malfoy’s. That was no secret. But she had spoken for them when the war was over and they were on trial for their involvement with Voldemort. She had kept both Draco and Lucius from having to serve any time in Azkeban, because whether she liked them or not, they had kept her from being murdered that day by Bellatrix.
As she looked at the Senior Malfoy, something in her snapped. That man had never been anyone she would call friend. But he had made a decision to help her when it was needed. His wife had been murdered mere months after the fall of Voldemort by Death Eaters who had eluded capture. She didn’t know all the details, but she had heard that there hadn’t been enough of his wife left to even have a casket.
The two bitches where completely oblivious of her presence as they spoke to each other loud enough for Lucius to hear. “The nerve of the man! I swear, everyone knows he’s a traitor, even if he did change his mind! I should write an article about how he’s sullied his family eternally!” Rita hissed.
Delores, tinkered a laugh and sipped her tea before adding. “I daresay, he killed his poor wife. He probably alerted the Death Eaters to her location so he could be rid of her.” She shook her head and tutted, “What is the Wizarding World coming to where they allow men like that to still be a part of society?”
Rita’s words hadn’t surprised Hermione too much. But when Delores chimed in with her hatred filled delusions, her eyes had widened, and her jaw dropped. Looking from them to Mr Malfoy, she saw the way he held himself very stiff and still. His eyes were closed as if in pain, although she could tell he was trying to act unaffected by their hateful prattle.
Her resolve reinforced, she swept into their view with her fists clenched and a sternness to her jaw that would alert anyone who cared to look to the fact she was seeing red angry. She spared Lucius the tiniest glance as she moved past his table and straight to theirs. She did what she did not only for Malfoy, but for his wife. She had attended the woman’s funeral and had witnessed the extent of Lucius’ despair firsthand. For all his other faults, no one who ever saw the two of them together could ever argue the extent of his love for his wife.
“You two should be ashamed of yourselves!” she chastised loudly. “Mr. Malfoy was absolved of his crimes for the service he was to the Order toward the end.” She shook her head. “And to speak so of his love for his wife! For shame! You were not at that funeral! You do not know the extent of his grief!”
She gestured toward the man who was now staring in stunned silence at her back. “He has not been to these functions before now because he has spent ten years in mourning!” She stepped a little closer to the two shocked witches and slapped the top of their table hard enough to make their drinks shake. “I was never a fan of the man. But if it had not been for him, Draco and his dear deceased wife, I would not have lived to see the end of the war.”
She then turned and looked Lucius in the eye as she continued, “I testified for his family because in my eyes, it didn’t matter that they changed sides late. The point was, they changed sides.” She straightened her shoulders and gave the man a small smile before looking back to the two women she could honestly say she hated, “I for one, am grateful.”
She wanted to hex the two witches where they sat She wished she could. But in the end, she told herself she had already said enough. There were enough eyes watching them now, she could well imagine Lucius would be left in peace at this point. As she turned to make her leave, she offered him a small bow of her head before finishing her less than happy journey to the table where the other two of the Golden Trio already sat with their families.
Lucius watched as she made her way to them, noting how lovely the young witch looked. Her dress robes were a dark indigo blue and hugged her form perfectly. The dress was floor length, but had slits on either side, allowing just a hint of a glimpse of her thigh. Her heels were the same dark color and her necklace and earrings were of the best sapphire.
He smiled to himself. Yes, the witch was indeed beautiful as well as gracious. She had come and chastised the two biddies without even caring about what might be thought of herself. His smirk grew. Of course, she had also chosen to testify for himself and Draco at the trial even though the two of them had done very little by way of helping her.
Yes, they had helped her, but Lucius had always wished he had killed Bellatrix for what she had made the poor girl suffer. He had been so wrong about her. Her bravery in protecting Potter had changed her forever in his eyes. He noted she was alone as she moved to sit down between Potter and the Weasel. If he had been a younger man, he might try to gain her favor. But he imagined he was too old a fool and too set in his ways to be of any interest to her now.
He watched as the red haired wizard leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear. She smiled tightly bit something about her demeanor made Lucius think. Hermione’s face colored slightly, and she turned slightly toward Potter instead of responding to her old beau.
Wondering what he must have said to her to cause such a reaction, Lucius glanced toward the dance floor and saw his son was still dancing with his wife, so he knew he wouldn’t be missed. Standing, he cast a silent notice-me-not as he moved into the shadows and closer to the table where the three sat. When he was close enough to hear, he was shocked at what he heard.
“What’s wrong, ‘Mione? Once again, you had to come to the Ball all alone?”
Ginevra Potter scowled at her brother. “Ronald Bilius Weasley! Doesn’t this ever get old? Leave Hermione alone!”
Ron shrugged, “Oh, come now, sis. I’m just playing with her. She knows I’m only kidding. Someday, she’ll find her prince.” He fell silent for a moment before adding, “Maybe she just needs to get some work done? What’s it the Muggles call it? A boob job?” he snickered, pointing at her breasts. “Maybe if they were a little perkier, she could catch herself a good Wizard.”
The only thing that stopped Lucius from stepping forward then was Potter. He growled at his friend and leaned past Hermione, hissing at the freckle faced arse, “Must we go through this every year, Ron? Seriously? Leave her alone!”
Ron tutted and sat back in his chair, looking innocently at his wife who also scowled at him. “I don’t mean anything by it. I promise.” He waved a dismissive hand in Hermione’s direction. “She means nothing to me anymore.”
Lucius stood there shocked at the tears that were now glistening in the Witch’s eyes. She wiped descreetly at her cheeks and he could tell she tried to shake off the cruel words of someone who had once meant a great deal to her. Unable to handle the sight of her unhappiness, Lucius made up his mind.
As he stepped closer to their table, he heard the prat try again. “I really meant nothing by it. Here! I’ll prove it. Come on, “Mione, I’ll dance with you this next dance. We can handle a little Tango, can’t we? I mean, there’s nothing really sensual about it.” He started to stand and Lucius noted the wizard was already so inebriated he could barely stand.
Sweeping between the two before Ron could reach for her, he bowed ever so slightly, “I’m so sorry for interrupting, but Miss Granger has already promised this dance to me.”
Hermione looked at Lucius with wide eyes. “I, uh, I’m not sure I . . .”
“Oh come, Miss Granger. You promised. And there’s nothing to worry about. As your friend said, It’s just a Tango.” He winked just for her as he took her hand. “There’s absolutely nothing sensual about it.”
The next instant her hand was in his and he led her to the dance floor, already beginning the dance, by stepping backwards slowly with a flourish. As they neared the center of the floor, people turned and stared as the dance began. He watched as the dress swirled around her in the dance. It accentuated her body in such a way no one there who was watching could deny the perfection of her curves.
Smooth as a lightning strike, Lucius pulled her around so she was pulled tight against him, her back to his chest. Their bodies molded together and she moaned at how well they fit. Gloves weren’t made like this. Then slowly as the music began to crescendo, he twirled her back out to an arms-length between them and she smiled as the moves and music began to sweep her away. Then, almost in a waltz formation, he pulled her close again, this time, chest to chest.
As he led her across the floor, Hermione couldn’t help herself. “Why?” she asked softly. In all these years, no one had come to her rescue. Harry and Ginny, and even Lavender would curse at Ron for his snide comments, but no one would come remove her from the situation. The fact he had not only surprised her, but that he was dancing this way with her puzzled her even more.
Lucius gazed down at the lovely witch and felt a part of his anatomy respond to the feel of her breasts pressed against him. “Because, my dear Hermione; one good turn deserves another.” He led her through some of the more difficult steps with ease before continuing. “You didn’t have to come to my aide back there. I was not expecting rescue. Actually, I never even thought anyone would care.” He pressed his hand into the hollow of her back and dipped her, placing a tender kiss to the hollow of her throat before lifting her back up and spinning her out, then back in. “But you did.”
The kiss gave her chills. The dance was making fire snake through her nerves. If he wanted her naked on the dance floor, she didn’t think she’d protest too much. The way he touched her, held her, moved through the dance with her was enough to make her wish for so much more. Then he held her tightly to him again and she felt the evidence of his desire and her soul sang. He wanted her. On some level, this wizard found her attractive. She couldn’t stop herself from moving slowly, teasing that part of him he had just revealed to her.
Their gazes met and his eyes widened before a smile broke out on his face. She returned it as the dance continued. The two moved so well together, there were those attending the ball who wandered if the two were always partners for such dances.
His voice came again during a slow moment. “The truth is, you have had my upmost respect ever since the suffering you endured to protect Potter.” He glanced at the telltale ugly mudblood mark on her arm before again twirling her around the floor and she moved with a grace and beauty that made him yearn to gather her close and whisk her away.
He knew why she didn’t glamour it. It was part of who she was. It was a way she pronounced to the world she had nothing to be ashamed of. He only wished she would wear that pride when Weasley tried his best to humiliate her. If she did, the prat wouldn’t be able to.
The look in her eyes when she met his gaze again strengthened his resolve. She would not suffer any longer this night. For that matter, nether would he. As the song finished, the two of them still had not noticed they had been the only ones on the dance floor. Every eye was on them.
For that moment as the dance ended, nothing existed but the two of them. As Lucius held her tight, dipped back, but in his arms, he could not stop himself from what he most desired. Slowly, closing the gap between them, his lips claimed hers in a soft, tender searching kiss that had her melting in his arms.
When he pulled away, he raised her, but still held her in his arms and pressed his forehead to hers in the way a lover would. “Tonight, let me erase all the hard cruel memories that have brought you tears. I won’t ask for more except to not care what our world might say tomorrow. But if only for tonight, come with me. Be with me.” He pulled back and gazed into her eyes, “please?”
Hermione stood in his arms, embraced by him; embracing him. Her breath came in heavy pants and tremors ran through her wherever they touched. She closed her eyes as she remembered all the years of hateful comments from Ron. She didn’t know if this was anything more than just a one night thing. She didn’t care. Nodding slowly, she answered him with one word. “Yes.”
Pulling back, he smiled broadly, taking her hand and leading her to the table to retrieve her things. As she took up her purse and cloak, Lucius gave the gawking red head a once over. “I’m sorry, Mr. Weasley. I’m afraid you are wrong. When it comes to the Tango . . .” he drifted off and looked to Hermione with a soft smile that she returned, “Everything is sensual about it.”
Taking her hand, he pulled her away from her friends, and out of the room. As they Apparated away, Draco looked after them with a knowing smile, before turning to kiss his wife’s hand. “Well. It’s about time.” He whispered to her with a smile.
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A/N: PLEASE let me know what you think! I love to hear from the readers. It'll let me know if I was right, or if maybe I should continue this into being something more!
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