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Amazing Grace	By : Kooldragon400 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 41309 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any recongizable characters, nor do I make any money off of this story.

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All right, my lovelies. I should let you know that I'M ALL JACKED UP ON MOUNTAIN DEW. Also, there may have been some Oreos involved. There were no survivors.

Well, if it will make you review any more there's a bit of smut in this chapter. Now, it's not the smut you're looking for but I'm hoping it will tide you over for a few more chapters. ^_^ So if you enjoy it, let me know. Please. The bunnies would appreciate it. And so would I. 0_0

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Harry sat alone in the quiet flat, quite aware that Hermione had already gone off to tutoring. She'd been there for the past two weeks, with the exception of the weekends, and for those two weeks Harry had never felt more alone. It was just him in the medium-sized apartment room, and the silence was deafening.

He'd tried leaving on the television, he'd tried turning on the stereo. He'd even tried cleaning until she came back, but nothing seemed to fill that empty space in his heart that his surrogate sister held.

So, he decided to go out. He didn't really like going out shopping in the magical world. He saw the looks of pity the wizards and witches sent him when they saw him in his chair, and he hated them for it. What did they know of suffering? What did they know of pain and loss? Most of them had been securely ensconced in their cozy little houses during the war, while he had risked his arse several times over to make sure these bastards could live freely. He'd given up his childhood. He'd watched Cedric die. He'd lost his godfather. He'd lost Dumbledore, and he'd lost his ability to walk.

The least they could do was ignore him.

~~

He stopped in front of the small Quidditch shop and smiled at the glittering snitch as it wove its way around the window. The smile turned bitter as he thought about Quidditch. He’d never be able to play again unless the doctors could fix his back. He couldn’t sit on the narrow broom without great pain. He’d not flown since the final confrontation with Voldemort. And he missed it.

“Mr. Potter?”

The small voice broke his reverie and he turned to see a little girl staring at him. She was almost Hogwarts age, no older than eleven.

“Yes?” he asked, curious. She stepped forward and held out a small stuffed dragon. “What is this?”

“I wanted to say thank you, Mr. Potter.” She said, and pressed the toy into his hands.

“For what?” he was surprised.

“For defeating the Dark Lord. My daddy was an Auror. He was taken by Death Eaters just before the final battle. Because you won, they abandoned the prisoners, and my daddy was able to escape with most of them. You helped bring my daddy home.” She explained. Harry felt the color rising in his cheeks.

“Oh, well, I….” he muttered. He was surprised when the girl shot forward and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’ve read the stories that make people feel sorry for you. I think it’s silly. They should just thank you.” She said, and kissed his cheek. Harry spluttered for a reply, his face red with mortification. The little girl giggled and then ran off, disappearing into the crowd. He looked down at the dragon in his hands, and shook his head.

“Well, it seems Harry Potter has a fan. Imagine that.”

He turned to see Draco Malfoy staring at him, a smug smile on his face.

“Well, it seems Draco Malfoy is being an arse. Imagine that.” Harry retorted without missing a beat. Draco snickered good-naturedly.

“So what are you up to today, Potter, aside from being adored by little girls around the world?” he asked.

“Nothing. Just waiting for Hermione to get home and decided to take a day out.” Harry replied.

“Want to come with me? I'm off for a drink in the Alley with a few friends. You're more than welcome to join me.” Draco said. Harry blinked.

“Which Alley?” he asked.

“Knockturn, of course. They have the best drinks.”

“I don't think that's a good idea...” Harry hedged nervously.

“Don't be silly, Potter. Where's your Gryffindor sense of bravery?” Draco teased.

“It shattered along with my spine.” Harry snapped. Draco drew back as if struck and was silent for several moments.

“It's changed since the war. Much safer, if still a bit dreary. And there's a pub called The Smoking Wand at the end of the Alley that has a good ale.” the blond replied.

“Fine. Will it matter that I’m Harry Potter?” Harry asked, reaching up and nervously running his hand through his hair, making it stick straight up. Draco twitched slightly at the unruly mess, but then did his best to smile disarmingly.

“Not if you’re with me. I’m on good terms with about everyone there. Stop worrying.” Draco said, turning on his heel and walking off toward the other end of Diagon Alley. Harry’s instincts told him to turn around and roll as fast as he could the other way, but his brain told him to trust Draco. With a deep breath, he started behind the blond wizard, his fingers mentally crossed.

~~

The pub looked worn down but clean on the outside, and it was much the same way on the inside as well. The tables were thick slices of a tree trunk that had been sanded smooth and sealed to prevent staining, with simple wooden chairs scattered around them. The clientele looked shabby, but none appeared to be murderers in wait for the perfect kill.

There was a bit of silence when Harry entered with Draco, but after a few moments everyone went back to their business, and Draco walked straight towards the back, where there were already a few people sitting at a table.

Harry recognized Marcus Flint immediately. He’d been marked as a Death Eater, but a little while after Dumbledore’s death he’d come to the Order begging for sanctuary. He’d failed to kill a Muggle baby, and in retribution the Dark Lord had given him a slice across the face that took the use of his left eye. In return for information on active Death Eaters he was given safety for himself and his family.

There was a lovely dark-haired witch sipping a glass of water as she sat next to Flint, and another witch with her hand suspiciously under Flint’s cloak. He did seem to have a rather serene look on his face…

“Flint, you perv.” Draco growled playfully. Flint’s good eye seemed to come into focus, and he looked at Draco with a goofy grin.

“Jealous.” He replied simply, before his uneven gaze rested on Harry. The glazed, milky color of his left eye unnerved Harry. “And we have Harry Potter.” He said.

“He’s my guest. Get over it.” Draco said, before moving aside a chair so Harry could pull up to the table.

“’Ooo, ‘e is so cute!” the pretty dark-haired witch cooed, a French accent slurring her words slightly. Harry blinked.

“Seems Marguerite likes him.” Flint said with a grin, before the serene look appeared on his face again, and he was out of the conversation.

“May I 'ave him, Draco?” Marguerite asked. Harry bristled.

“What does she mean, have me?” He squeaked, slightly panicked.

“Great Merlin, Potter, she wants to ravish you, not kill you.” Draco said, amused.

“Ze only death 'oo would experience would be 'la petit mort.'” She purred, fluttering her eyelashes. Harry swallowed hard, and tried to will his neglected wand not to activate in such a public place. He tried to surreptitiously adjust the robes he'd worn over his lap. Marguerite giggled.

“I would do such wonderful things to 'oo, 'Arry.” she replied. The young man in question shivered, unsuccessful in trying to keep his dick under control.

“I don't...don't think that's a good idea.” he stuttered. Marguerite was on him immediately, sitting on his lap and draping her long legs over the side of his chair. She reached up and ran a hand through his impossible hair, cooing gently to him.

“'Oo look like 'oo need to forget something. Let me help 'oo forget, hero.”

“I...I...you...”

But Marguerite silenced him with a kiss on the lips. All of Harry's blood rushed south so quickly he nearly passed out. Marguerite pulled back, a smug smile firmly on her face.

“It would appear zat I have summoned ze basilisk. Would ze hero like it to release its venom?” Harry groaned at the innuendo.

“It's been...awhile.” he hedged, unwilling to admit it had been nearly six years since he'd been laid, and the last time since then had been a frenzied couple with Ginny when he thought he might die. He looked at the other inhabitants of the table for help. Flint's eyes were lidded and he wasn't even paying attention to Harry at all, and the girl whose hand was under Flint's cloak now had her head resting against his arm. Draco was trying not to laugh as he watched Harry and the French girl.

“You think too much, 'Arry Potter. Sometimes all you need to know is zat there is a warm, willing woman to 'ave. Will 'oo 'ave me?” she asked, looking up at him with warm brown eyes.

“Go on, Potter. Marguerite is a very good judge of what someone needs.” Draco encouraged. Harry considered his options. It had been a very long time since he'd had the attention of a woman, much less wanted it. His cock was reacting quite eagerly where it had not in the past. The only attention he'd had in the last few years had been from his own hand, and that was unsatisfying at best.

Hadn't he just been pissed off because he was alone?

“All right.” he said softly. Marguerite smiled at him, and slid off of his lap.

“Come then, hero, and I will make your toes curl.” she told him.

“Marguerite!” Draco called to her. She turned to him. “There's five galleons in it for you if you can make him scream.” he said evilly. Marguerite gave Draco a rather scornful look when Harry swallowed hard.

“I was planning on doing zat anyway.”

Before Harry could object Marguerite began pushing his chair. The handles weren't attached, but she put her hands on his back and pushed and the inherent charms in the chair kept him from running into anything. A scruffy looking wizard grunted into his glass as the two passed him to enter a hallway full of rooms.

“Lucky bastard.”

~~

He shivered as she shimmied his boxers off of his thighs, his erection springing out of the cotton confinement. She blinked at the sight of it, making Harry feel a bit self conscious.

“Ze universe 'as a sense of humor.” she said, a slow smile spreading across her face as she shimmied the boxers down his legs and finally tossed them aside. She had already stripped to skin, and had been enjoying taking his clothes off slowly.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, almost offended.

“Zat is one of ze most magnificent specimens of cock I 'ave ever seen and you hide it away.” she laughed. He flushed, and opened his mouth to say something. Sensing he was about to argue, Marguerite suddenly leaned forward and captured the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked hard.

Harry inhaled sharply and his body jerked automatically. Now that she had his attention she withdrew the stiff member from her mouth with a pop and began to nibble down the side of it. Harry was a decent length, and easily too thick for her to wrap her palm around. His cock rose like a red serpent from a nest of dark curls, and she threaded her free hand through his pubic hair before resting her hand on his balls as she nibbled back up to the tip and down the other side.

Harry's left knee came up, and Marguerite gently pushed his leg to the side to give her access to him. She ran her tongue up the length of him, making appreciative noises as she went. Harry was clean and smelled and tasted nice. Marguerite had been around the world, and had often seen men and women bound to wheelchairs that didn't smell so good because they couldn't get themselves into a bath as often. She could see herself that Harry's legs worked fine, and she'd read the stories about the Boy-Who-Conquered and knew enough that it was his spine that wouldn't support him, making it easier for him to get around as opposed to someone who may be paralyzed from the waist down.

Also, his wand seemed to function just fine, she thought with a giggle.

“I'm not...going to last long.” Harry huffed, his hand clenching at the plain quilt. She felt his balls start to draw against him slightly in preparation for orgasm, and she reached forward and clasped the base of his cock, squeezing firmly.

Harry gave a strangled cry as his release was denied, and was very ready to give her a piece of his mind when he suddenly found her face near his. She gave him a gentle peck on the lips, before leaning back and taking him in one hand so she could quickly impale herself on his length. Harry gasped and nearly came right there. She was snug, warm, and it was so much more enjoyable than what he'd gone through with Ginny. It had been her first time, and not only was she in pain, their emotions made her weep the entire time.

Marguerite knew enough to keep still for several moments while Harry caught his breath. If she moved he would probably explode like a shaken bottle of champagne. When his chest stopped rising and falling like a winded rabbit, she began to move herself up and down slowly. She leaned forward slightly, pressing her hands to Harry's chest and flicking her fingers over his flat male nipples.

He looked up at her, and she was caught in his impossible green stare.

“'Oo 'ave beautiful eyes.” she commented softly, still moving at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“I have my mother's eyes.” Harry replied, looking sad.

“'Oo 'ave your own eyes. 'Oo are your own person, 'Arry Potter. Live up to yourself.” she said. He stared into her brown eyes for a few moments, before actually smiling. He nervously reached up one hand, and started to touch one of her plump breasts.

“Er...can I...” he stuttered. She laughed.

“We are about as close as two people get, 'Arry. I 'ave touched 'oo very intimately. It would be unfair of me not to allow 'oo to touch me.” she said, and reached out to press his hand to her breast. She was soft and warm, and he gently flicked his fingers over her nipple as she'd done to him. He was rewarded by a pleased sigh.

Marguerite's tempo increased a bit, and she could feel Harry meeting her thrusts slightly. He would probably hurt himself if he tried to put too much leverage into his thrusts, so she'd taken the initiative and the controlling position.

“Merlin...you're so beautiful.” Harry murmured, squeezing the soft globe of flesh. Her skin was lightly tanned in contrast to his pale complexion, and her caramel colored nipple was hardening under his touch. His other hand attached itself to her other breast, and he weighed the two in his palms, jiggling them as she bounced on his dick.

“Merci...and 'oo are handsome.” she sighed, reaching down to the place where they were joined and flicking a finger over her clit. She knew he wouldn't last very long, and she wanted to finish with him. He watched as she twiddled herself while moving to an age old rhythm on top of him, and he could feel another orgasm starting to build up. His thrusts became erratic at best, and a light sheen of sweat started to form on his brow.

He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, and so missed the quite evil looking grin that formed on Marguerite's lips. With her free hand she carefully reached down below where their bodies met, and pressed a finger firmly into his rear entrance.

Harry Potter came with a strangled shout, his back bowing slightly under the force of his orgasm. Marguerite, goaded on by the look of surprised bliss on his face, came a few moments later, her pussy clenching hungrily at his cock and milking him dry.

Harry's head fell back against the pillow with a muffled thump, and he looked up at her with his glasses skewed.

“That was low, damn it.” he growled, huffing like the Hogwarts Express. She giggled breathlessly and withdrew her hands, holding them up innocently.

“I did tell 'oo I would make 'oo scream.”

~~

Hermione looked over the essay, marking a few places here and there. Overall, it was a very good effort. Grace was a decent student, if easily distracted. She had good work, but she seemed to go off on a tangent in her essays.

“Very good, Grace. Although, next time you don't have to start comparing Harry's life with that of Anakin Skywalker in 'Star Wars.' Especially since this is Herbology.” Hermione said gently. Grace flushed a bit.

“Sorry, I get a little nervous during essays.” she hedged. “Hermione...what are you doing tonight?” she asked. Hermione looked up to see Grace nervously fiddling with her fingers.

“I usually eat at home with Harry.” she said. “Why?”

“Well I was hoping you'd eat dinner with us, tonight. I don't...I don't have any friends here yet, and you've been awfully nice to me since you started tutoring me. I wanted you to stay a while, and not in the capacity of my tutor.” Grace said. She accompanied this statement with what could only be referred to as a 'puppy stare.' Hermione caved.

“Well, let me just call Harry and tell him I'll be late.” she said, standing and withdrawing her cell phone from her pocket. She stepped to the window, putting her back to Grace as she dialed Harry's cell. She didn't have a land line at the flat, and he always carried his phone with him.

“Hello, Harry? I'm going to....why are you out of breath? You did what? Good lord, Harry...Well I'm glad you had a good time. I'm going to eat at the Malfoy's so I'll be late as well. All right, I won't. Yes, of course. See you tonight.”

She disconnected the call and turned to see Grace with a hopeful look on her face.

“All right.” she said, and laughed when Grace gave an excited whoop.

Dinner that night was a brilliant chicken pasta dish with the most amazing cream sauce Hermione had ever tasted. The meal was rather silent, with Grace looking between her father and Hermione between bites. Draco was still out on the town, and Grace was a bit angry at him that she was having to initiate 'the plot' herself.

“May I be excused for a moment?” she asked suddenly. Lucius paused mid bite and looked at her.

“Why?” he asked suspiciously. Grace made a face at him.

“I gotta go to the bathroom.” she said in a strained voice. “Do you need details?”

“No!” he said quickly. “No...just...just go.” Grace pushed back and scuttled from the room, and Hermione heard Lucius exhale sharply.

“Awkward child...” he commented, more to himself than anyone else.

“She's been doing very well. She has a tendency to ramble in her essays, but I think she's improving.” Hermione said conversationally. Lucius turned his silver gaze on her, and she squirmed beneath the intense stare.

“I'm very glad you decided to take Grace on as a student. She's been very happy since you started.” he replied. Hermione smiled, and Lucius noticed that she had a single dimple on her right cheek.

“She's a vibrant girl. I rather like her quick wit. She also has a sharp tongue when she sets her mind to it.” she laughed. Lucius gave a polite smile, and Hermione noticed that even the slight change in his facial expression seemed to make him a whole different person. She looked up slightly, and their eyes met. They stayed still for several moments, neither wanting to look away.

Hermione's gaze faltered first, and she cleared her throat nervously. “I should be going home, now. Have to shower and get to bed.” she said, standing up. Lucius stood as well, swallowing hard as an unfamiliar feeling made him feel a bit queasy. Was the chicken bad?

Grace entered the room at that time. “What'd I miss?” she asked. Her father took that distraction and ran with it.

“Did you wash your hands?” he asked, eyeing her. Grace snapped her fingers as if she'd forgotten something.

“Aw, man, let me just- of course I washed my hands. What am I, German?” she asked. Lucius and Hermione exchanged a glance.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Lucius asked, exasperated. Grace gave them a look.

“It has to do with everything.” She said, as if it were obvious. There was silence for several moments, before Lucius shook his head in frustration.

“Well, I'll be off now.” Hermione said, moving towards the entrance hall. Lucius and Grace both walked with her.

“Do you have to go, Hermione?” Grace asked as they reached the door. Hermione smiled at the girl.

“I'll be back tomorrow.” she laughed. Grace shot forward and hugged her. Hermione was surprised for a few moments, before she hugged Grace back warmly.

“See you tomorrow, then.” Grace said as she stepped back.

“Goodnight, Grace. Goodnight, Mr. Malfoy.” she said.

“Lucius.” he blurted, and Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion. “You may call me Lucius, Miss Granger.” he corrected himself. Hermione smiled, and he was once again shown that single dimple.

“Then please call me Hermione.” she said. He inclined his head.

“Very well. Have a pleasant night, Hermione.” He said. She nodded, and then walked outside. Lucius and Grace watched her walk down the drive, and Grace waved when Hermione turned back up towards the manor when she reached the end. Hermione waved and then Apparated away.

“She's so nice.” Grace commented. Lucius' eyes were still on the spot where she'd stood.

“Indeed.” he said softly, and closed the door. Grace watched him walk out of the foyer, before a smile slowly took over her face.

This might be easier than she thought!

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BWA HA HA HA!!!!! My imagination is quite active right now. I like it! Anyway, this was a brilliant long chapter with smut AND plot advancement. I need reviews, so please oblige me.
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Amazing Grace