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A Simple Proposal	By : Tri Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 26263 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, its characters, locations, and everything in between. I make no profit from this story by using the characters and places. My only gain from this is reviews and writing practise.

Chapter List
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“Damn it!”

The force of the door smacking into the frame shook off some pictures from their hooks. Hermione let out another string of curses, some that would make sailors blush. The muggle-born witch paid the cracked glass and broken wooden frames do heed as she marched the small space to her desk. Hermione grabbed the nearest thing off her desk (which happened to be an innocent tea cup) and threw it against the wall. Falling into her chair, the witch watched the amber liquid drip down the pasty colored walls.

“You know, a young lady like you shouldn’t curse like that.” A cool voice spoke from the corner of her tiny office.

Hermione sprang up in her chair, her brown eyes to her surprise guest. Even under the low candle light, she knew who it was by the silver hair that broke through the darkness. Using her wand, the candles grew in size, lighting up the office. Sitting in her mustard yellow sofa was the last person she wanted to see.

“What do you want, Mr. Malfoy?” Hermione voice dripped with venom.

Even in the ugly sofa, Lucius Malfoy sat like a king on his throne. His famous silver hair pulled back into a low ponytail, with no strand out of place. The pureblood wizard had taken to wearing muggle suits since the War had ended, black suits of course with green trimmings and silver buttons. Even in muggle clothing, he still carried his Slytherin colors over. His snake headed cane rested against the wall, in arms reach just in case.

“Oh, just enjoying the sight of the Ministry’s lowest paying employee fall apart before my eyes.” His voice purred out in pure joy.

“I am perfectly happy with my pay check, sir! And I am not the lowest paying one here.” Hermione snapped, tempted to blast that smirk off his full lips.

“No, no in wealth but, you are paid so little in another matter.” Lucius used his cane and pushed himself up from the beaten down sofa.

Hermione rolled her eyes, wishing that the Slytherin would leave her in peace. It was too early in the morning to deal with his pompous attitude. “What are you talking about, Mr. Malfoy?”

“I thought the Gryffindor princess enjoyed riddles.”

“I’m not in the mood, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Pity, I like seeing you think.” His voice was light, on the cusp of teasing if she didn’t know better. “The way your brow furrows and the way you bite you lip, would make any man mad with desire.”

“Just get to the damn point.”

The pureblood eased into taking a seat on her desk, barely touching a thing as if touching her belongings would leave him burn. “It is true that your department-What is it again? Never mind, it does not-”

“The Department of Rights and Regulations for Magical Creatures.” Hermione didn’t flinch as his silver eyes drove daggers into her for interrupting. Even if the department was new and fairly small, it was her department.

“Yes, quite,” his eyes turned softer, or rather, he took to picking up invisible lint off his pristine jacket rather looking at her. “It is true that it is small and employs a few number of capably employees, all intelligent and ambitious where it matters. But, are hardly getting the recognition you deserve.” He finally lost interest in lint picking to look at her. “Now, tell me why has gotten you so fluster and made you curse so. Did you have a fight with your fiancé, Ronald?”

Her cheeks grew hot, “My relationship is none of your business, sir. If you must know, I heard what your son did.” She had to restrain herself from cursing out Draco’s parentage.

“What exactly has Draco done now?” Even though his voice was neutral, Hermione could see the glimmer of frustration in his eyes.

“If you must know; your son’s department wants to propose a new project that will overshadow my department’s goal of getting Wolfsbane more affordable for werewolves. Without the potion, werewolves will still be seen as monsters and not as witches and wizards. And of course, this new proposed project of his will jeopardized that goal to only benefit potion makers.”

“I’m not sure I understand your problem, Miss Granger.” Lucius pointed out.

She squeezed the bridge of her nose, “As of right now, Potion Masters are given a stipend of galleons from the Ministry to produce Wolfsbane Potion at two-thirds the original price. That is still hard for many werewolves to afford because they are not allowed to get jobs. What your son and his department want to do are to put the werewolves into jobs and raise the price up back to its original price.”

“That sounds reasonable, Miss Granger. He is giving them jobs.”

“Expect for the jobs he wants the werewolves to have.”

“Oh?”

“His department wants to propose that werewolves be given minimal wage jobs and yet, with no added benefits or job security. They might get a job as a waiter for a few weeks and then suddenly get fired for prejudice.” Hermione let out a sigh, looking up the older wizard. “Werewolves are already under prosecution as it is. This new project, if it gets support and become law then werewolves will not get any rights.”

Lucius bore his eyes into her. “Yet, the Ministry’s budget is already stretched thin. Draco is merely trying to balance out the debt.”

“At the cost of the welfare and safety of witches and wizards? I rather see the Ministry sink into debt then see innocent people hurt.” Hermione growled out, her brown eyes alit with anger.

“Ever the Gryffindor,” he chuckled, finding her house allegiance as funny as someone falling into a pile of hippogriff dung. “You know, as well as I, that the only thing the Ministry cares about is good press. If people find out that the Ministry is failing because we are giving all our resources to helping accursed creatures, there will be a riot.”

“Well, the magical world has to change their views.” Hermione folded her arms across her chest. She had lived in the wizardly world for nearly thirteen years and there was barely a change to the mindset of the wizarding world. The only thing that changed as that wizards and witches were more fearful of their neighbors even mentioning the Dark Arts.

Shaking his head like a disapproving professor, Lucius cocked his head towards her like a snake judging if he should eat her up. “If wishes can truly become true; I would have had taken the world by now.” His laugh was there to defuse the threat into a joke but, Hermione doubted that was just a joke. “You say you want to save the werewolves, yes?”

“Yes, to make sure they are treated fairly and with dignity.”

“I know exactly what you need. You need respect.”

“Respect? Why do we need respect? We don’t need anyone’s respect to get what we want. All we need is money which your son has now robbed us of th-”

Suddenly his sharp face was in hers, his silver eyes boring into hers, trying to smother all attempts at her looking away. The room grew hot as she felt herself stuck to her spot, staring eye to eye with a former Death Eater.

“Because you need respect in order to get ahead in the Ministry, Miss Granger. I have seen many Departments rise to great heights, establishing their footing in the Magical world. And I have also seen Departments with such great potential just be wasted away by lack of acknowledgment and, respect.” He purred out the last word, her ears picking up each syllable.

“W-why do you care, sir?” her voice stammered, the proximity to the pureblood made her body felt hot under his intense gaze. If she didn’t say the right things, he might eat her up. “My department wants to regulate the conditions how house-elves and other low magical creatures are treated. It isn’t in your nature to care about them.” She couldn’t fathom what he had up his sleeve when it was her department that caused him to lose half of his house-elf staff.

“Do you have any idea what kind of nature I have, Hermione Granger?” His words were a threat but the way his voice sounded sent shivers down her spine. He was a predator and she was the prey.

“I have an idea, Lucius Malfoy.”

His dark laugh broke the spell he had on her, he pulled his gaze away from her, leaving her breathless and thankful of the fresh air she could inhale. “Ever since your friends vanquish the Dark Lord five years ago, I have begun to rethink how I should go about my life in this new world. I have started to care for those who I was breed to mistreat.”

“People don’t change, Malfoy.”

“Yes but, you must understand one thing about me, Miss Granger; I can easily adapt.” His smile was playful but she could see his fangs making an appearance behind those lips. He moved off the desk, standing up on his two feet again. “I rather not see your department and your…pet projects go to waste. So, I will help you gain respect.”

“How?”

He looked annoyed that even bothered to ask. “Why, I will extend my charitable hand give you the needed money you need to carry on.”

This seemed so unreal. Lucius Malfoy was offering her his help when he spent countless years judging and even hurting her kind. The Slytherin might have had to scrabble and begged his job back in the Ministry as the assistant of the Wizengamot chancellor but, Hermione wasn’t that desperate for support. She was the Head of her department, a remarkable feat for a twenty-three year old, and she wouldn’t take Lucius dirty money.

“Why?” She still needed to know why, of all the failing departments, he picked hers. Was it a way to trick her into taking his money to only trick her? And why was he looking at her like that earlier, Hermione thought was looking into a snake’s mouth. “Why me, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Haven’t I said that before?” Lucius looked more annoyed by each passing second. “You have great potential, more than a girl your age, and I rather not see it go-”

“You can cut the bullshit, sir,” Hermione interrupted again. He might use flowery words with other people to get his way but, she was not in the mood to deal with it. She was still reeling from finding out her budget was cut nearly half by his stupid son. “What do you want with me? Do you want me to make a public announcement, giving you my support to something that would land you a higher paying job? Or do you want me to give you the soul of my first born son?”

There was a heavy air that fell in the room, the pureblood looking at the fiery Gryffindor in stunned silence. The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, both of staring at each other like no one else existed outside her office. Finally, laughter crackle out of his throat, almost making the pureblood bent over in a humorous fit. Listening to him made Hermione pull back in her chair, her hand reaching for her wand strapped to her thigh. At last, the laughter quelled, tears stung his silver eyes.

“Don’t be silly, Miss Granger!” he exclaimed, finding every second enjoyable. “I’m perfectly happy with my job. It might pay as much as my old job as a Hogwarts Governor but, I’m not as stressed or given too much on my plate as my current job. And why would I want the soul of your first born son? That is just so….muggle!” Hermione was pleased how he spat out the word like that. “No, no, I want something different from you.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

He said it so bluntly, that Hermione was sure she heard wrong, that it was all a joke. “M-me? What do you want with me?”

“You have heard of Narcissa’s passing two years ago, right?” For a moment, he looked like shallow of a man at the mention of his wife.

Hermione nodded her head, remembering reading the news in the Daily Prophet that morning. Narcissa Malfoy had been the victim of a botched muggle robbery, killed by a gunshot wound to the stomach. They couldn’t find her in time to save her. She was at the wrong place at the wrong time. “Yes, I remember.”

Lucius leaned against his cane, his fingers dancing against the black wood. “Ever since she has…been gone, I have certain urges that need to be fulfilled. I am just a man; I can’t be blame for them. That’s where you come in, my dear. You are a brilliant, beautiful, and very fiery woman.”

“Urges…” Hermione said slowly, her eyes narrowing at him. He couldn’t be serious, could he? “Are you mad or just playing an awful joke? You mean to say that you want my body?”

“Well, when you put it that way, yes.”

Hermione got up from her chair, forced to look up at him, as he still towered her by a head. The muggle-born poked the man in the chest with her wand, angry red sparks flying from the tip. “Don’t you dare come in here, make a mockery of my profession and then offer to trade sex for money! I am happily engaged to Ron and I would never, ever dream of having an affair, with at least of all, with you! And I will not sell myself or my department for sex!”

“Miss Granger, I wasn’t-”

Hermione swish her wand, sending out a hex towards him. Lucius had to quickly dodge the spell, the wall behind his head now had a small blue fire. The Slytherin stood there, mouth agape, his eyes wide with fear and…was that admiration?

“Get. Out. Of. My. Office.” Hermione hissed out, her wand hand twitching to set his hair on fire.

Lucius righted himself, straightening out his suit. Returning back to his perfect self, Lucius pulled out a pearly white business card, setting it on her desk, his eyes not breaking contact with hers. “If you are in dire need of help, feel free to contact me. Think over my proposal for a few days and get back to me.”

“Leave.” Hermione growled out.

Lucius bowed his body, “Have a pleasant day, Hermione.”

With a turn of his heel, Lucius left her office in peace. Hermione fell into her chair once again; her heart was pounding in her chest like thunder. Her office was a mess and it wall thanks to those blasted Malfoys. Framed photos and certificates were on the ground, their glass shields broke, tea stains drying on her walls, and a little burnt hole on her wall.

Today was not going to be good.

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Author’s Note: This little plot bunny came to me in the middle of the night and forced me to write. Not sure where this plot will go but, I will write as soon as inspiration hits me. Please, review! Nothing gets me writing faster than getting reviews.
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A Simple Proposal