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Hungry Thirsty Crazy	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 47434 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Author�s Note:� Well,
after a minor crisis of a failed power supply and a week of being unable to
post or write (I jinxed myself with last chapter!), everything�s back in
order.� I know last chapter was not the
most exciting; hopefully this will make up for it.� Angst and lemons ahead � you�ve been warned.

Now for some responses, which are in a completely wacky order.� Everything got
sort of messy because of the computer issue so hopefully I�ve gotten everyone.

Caitlyn: Yes I fully agree that school and RL are �necessary
but irritating�.� School especially.� I am glad to be advancing my education, but geez, the price tag and the ridiculous amount of work can
make for serious drudgery.� Thanks for
your lovely comments and I�ll add you to the update list.� Yes, Crazy is going to be the third book he
writes, I�ll let you guys know that much � but not much else surrounding its
composition, for now.� You�re pretty much
right about the HIV/AIDS distinction; when HIV progresses to AIDS is when it
becomes truly dangerous and fatal.� It
can be controlled for decades if the HIV is kept in check via meds.� I haven�t strayed much into side effects of
HIV drugs (let�s say Lucius is one of the lucky ones
who experiences very few), but they can be pretty bad, and anything that compromises the immune system (HIV or otherwise) is
problematic.� But in the immediate
timeframe, he�s in no danger of dying.

LaBibliographe:� The guy�s shirt was for some Scandinavian
metal band�I don�t recall exactly which one, because I�ll admit that I was the tiniest bit intoxicated.� Heh.� The New Library can
be found at: http://community.livejournal.com/the_new_library/.� I wish that I could be more involved in LJ
stuff but the honest truth is, I hate blogging and
barely have enough time for fanfic, let alone all the
other brilliance that goes on at LJ.� On to the rest of your questions.� The shagging didn�t inspire him, per se (ok
well maybe a little), but it and many other things showed him that he has
something to go on for and his story isn�t meaningless.� As for Hermione�s wand, well, its benign
response to Lucius might mean that he has changed �
and since Hermione doesn�t fear him, the wand no longer perceives him as a
threat.� Yeah, that Crooks, as part-kneazle he does have an uncanny sense for the character of
people.� The kitten is still around, he�ll make an appearance in this chapter and those
to come. ��There is a rationale behind
the runes, and a purpose for them, ultimately.� Sorry for ruining your nails with
suspense�mine are always ruined, if it makes you feel any better.� Ron will be addressed soon�

Nitesfool:� Thank you.�
I plan on publishing something someday.�
One could say that Lucius marking Hermione,
but not activating it, is his idea of giving her a choice in the matter.� Only, he isn�t really�but would you expect
him to?� And no matter how good he is
with words, there are certain things he can�t say.� He can say �I want you� but he isn�t at the
point yet where he can say �I need you�.�
Perhaps the runes are his way of communicating that.� Yeah, poor Jo-Jo has a knack for walking into
a room at just the wrong time, but fortunately our heroes aren�t letting that
stop them anymore.

Lady_of_Clunn:� How�s the move going?� Well, I hope.�
Yes, I�d say some of Lucius�s hope has been
restored.� He�s feeling pretty darn good
right now.� The �crazy� may not be the
kind of crazy you think.� Thanks for your
lovely compliments, as always.

Mrs_Helene_Snape: I think the
morning after is very important, too, which is why I devoted an entire chapter
to it.� It perhaps wasn�t the most
exciting chapter of the fic, but that groundwork
needs to be laid.� These two are
definitely finding their footing as a couple.�
They both seem to take the lead from time to time, but there was no
precedent here.� Fortunately things
seemed to work out.� In the case of the
runes, Lucius definitely wants to claim
Hermione.� However, he knows he needs to
tread carefully, because as he�s said, he can�t and won�t just take when it
comes to her.� Hermione�s reaction is
pending.� And thanks for your
encouragement re: grad school.� It�s been
an interesting (and harrowing) trip so far, but I think year 2 will feel
easier, just because I�m used to the way the program is run and the people it�s
run by.� I could go on an endless monologue
about my program�ha�but I won�t bore you.

Muffy:� Yup, runes were an interesting diversion; you
never hear much about them.� I�m glad
I�ve been able to incorporate them convincingly.� Thanks for the well wishes.

Linda:� Thanks for
de-lurking for me!� You�re not the only
one who is curious about what�s going on in the outside world.� I promise I�ll get to it � stay tuned.� I�ve put you on the mailing list so you
should get updates now!

Heidi191976: Thanks!

Caughtinblacksgreyeyes:� Haha a love monkey?� A little.� Draco is going to
find out soon enough, though it may not be under the circumstances you
expect.� Oh, and the Lucius
snuggle sign up sheet is still up. *points*

Sapphire: Yes, I love me some banter as well.� Thanks for the compliments,
hopefully this chapter�s lemonade will live up to the rest.� It would appear that you DID call a Malfoy cute�he will be over to punish you later. ;)

Meankitty69:� You
called Lucius cute, too.� I guess he has to split his time between you
and Sapphire, hehe.�
Don�t stress too much over Lucius�s fate.

Lils: Thank you!

Mara: �I�ll be working
overnights soon, too, so that I can actually pay my tuition.� I�m just overflowing with enthusiasm. :P� I�m a geek so I
actually enjoyed researching the runes.�
I hope you haven�t been too depressed waiting for this chapter; my power
supply for my laptop died so the finished chapter was imprisoned on my dead
laptop for a week!� Now it�s all better
thank goodness.� Rest assured I am
patting myself on the back.� Thanks for compelling
others to read!

Linneh: Thank you for de-lurking
also!� It�s much appreciated.

Lthilwen:� Is it Lthilwen or Ithilwen?� I can�t tell
the difference between the capital I and and
lowercase L in the font my e-mail uses.�
Anyhow, as for what her former professors would say�I�m not sure.� Maybe I�ll have her keep up the
correspondence with Sinistra�depends what the muse
wants. :)

Briappletree:� Find anything good about runes?� Thanks for your compliments and here�s the
next part to tide you over.

Mia: That was another review worthy of the Critiquill!�
Thanks.� And hey, I�d be nothing without
you great readers, so rock on. :)

HermioneMalfoyFan:� I wonder where I get the ideas, too.� I shouldn�t question it, though, just be
thankful that I have an inspired muse!�
School isn�t too bad this semester thus far�but I may eat my words in a
few weeks.

Kazfeist:� Astronomy?�
I�m not sure; I�ll admit that I didn�t look at the Lexicon before
putting that bit in there.� Sinistra is one of those minor characters that is so neglected and you know that she is Slytherin,
so one has to wonder how she behaves in comparison to the others from her
house.� I wanted to show a more tolerant,
less obnoxious person from the house of the serpent!� I agree that runes are more fun and whatever
she actually teaches, for the purpose of this story, she�s now the runes
teacher. ^_~

NutsAboutHarry: Yes, Lucius is definitely going to realize that Hermione gives
as good as she gets (if he hasn�t already).�
I think that the majority of fanficcers are
women, at least in the Harry Potter fandom; then again, it�s difficult to
decipher gender from a penname.� What do
you guys think?

Ffpoisongirl: How�s school
treating you?� Mine�s not too bad so far
but I know it will get much, much worse soon.�
I think Lucius will become more immersed in
literature since he�s now part of that world with his books, and Hermione will
show him the scope of muggle literature, as
well.� I�m not trying to give Lucius any more nightmares right now so perhaps Lovecraft will have to wait!� Hehe.� I�ll consider Jane
Eyre.

<>

When she returned to the villa, Lucius had retreated outside to the courtyard.� Her feet led her to the familiar alcove.� Once there, she saw that he had done a little
rearranging; there was now a table with an umbrella at which he sat, still
writing.� Amusingly enough, Crookshanks was sunning himself in the chair across from Lucius, and the small, as-yet-unnamed ginger kitten had
evidently decided to play paperweight.�
It was curled on top of the growing stack of parchment near Lucius�s elbow.

�I wonder if the drugs make me
smell like catnip,� Lucius said.� She hadn�t revealed her presence but it
seemed that he instinctively knew she was there.

�Why is that?� she inquired, slowly
emerging into the early evening sun.

�The cats won�t stop following me
around.�

Hermione smiled.� �I think I would notice if you smelled like
catnip.�

�Would you?� You aren�t a cat.�

�It has a smell, though.� It�s herbal and a bit minty.�

He nodded.� �I never had a cat, so I wouldn�t know.� It was always owls for me.�� He set his quill down and stretched.� She heard his spine pop a few times.� It seemed he�d been quite diligent in his
writing.

�They seem to like you a lot,�
Hermione said, a little intrigued.� Crookshanks was generally independent.� He wasn�t the type of pet that followed
people around unless he wanted something.�
She had instructed Jo-Jo earlier on how and when to feed him, and the litterbox was charmed to require little to no care.� The only logical conclusion was that he
genuinely liked Lucius, or that the novelty of a new
person was such that Crookshanks temporarily became
an attention whore.

�Indeed,� Lucius
commented.� �I must ask, is it normal for
them to follow you into the loo?�

�Oh, yes,� Hermione chuckled.� �There are no personal boundaries with cats.�

�I�m not accustomed to putting on a
show.�� He reached out to absently
scratch the head of the little kitten.

�The loo
isn�t the worst.� If you let them,
they�ll sit right on the bed while you�re attempting to have sex.� Sometimes they even try to get your attention
while you�re in the middle of it.�

�I am sincerely hoping that you
aren�t one of the people who allows that,� he said, a note of chagrin in his
voice.�

�No,� she grinned.� A mental image was forming in her brain, one
in which Lucius forcibly ejected a disgruntled Crookshanks from the bedroom.� Though, truthfully, if Crooks tried to
interfere while she was getting cozy with Lucius, she
would toss him out, too.

�Good.�

He shuffled his papers, briefly
upsetting the kitten to place the last page in the pile.� Hermione watched him carefully; she noticed
the way he flexed his wrist, as if it was sore.�
She also drank in the way the sun�s slanting rays fell upon him.� He looked beautiful in the villa�s
stone-enclosed, velvety darkness, but even more so in the warm glow of sunlight.� He looked like he was of the sun.

It had always been a curiosity to
her that he had been named Lucius.� Certainly it was a name that held
remembrances of power and distinction; that was no stretch.� But a man like him named after light?� He had never personified his name.� Hermione frowned.� Something was gnawing at her.

This felt too normal, too easy, and
too soon.� It already felt like they did
this every day � like she was returning home from work to her husband.� It was quite the jolt.�

This morning had been so natural,
so straightforward.� Was it really that
simple to just�be together?� Or was this
a charade to cope with what they had done?

She closed the small distance to
his chair and tried not to hesitate when she laid her hands on his
shoulders.� Lovers touched one another
like this, casually, right?� It took some
getting used to.� The muscles she found
were a bit tense, either from sitting for so long�or from whatever he�d been
committing to paper.

�How many pages?� she asked,
pressing gently against the balled muscles.

�Twenty-four.�� He was relaxing already.

�Your muse is very pleased.�

�I didn�t know my muse came with
massage service.�

�Oh?�� She smiled minutely to herself.� Though talking to him was as distressingly easy
as before, things still felt fragile for reasons she couldn�t define.� She couldn�t say if it was her or him or
both.�

He leaned back slightly and rested
his head on her chest.� He didn�t look up
at her, though.� She was quiet, kneading
his shoulders and the base of his neck, his hair tickling her fingers.� She didn�t know what to make of his
silence.� It said so much and so little
at the same time.

Back in his presence, the questions
that had remained dormant at her flat exploded into the foreground once
more.� They weren�t the questions that
had plagued her in the beginning.� The
surprise from his foray into ancient runes had worn off and was now settling
into something more confused and angst-ridden.�
He had already marked her once, however invisibly, with the Vow.� How could he dare to try it again?�

Aside from that, she didn�t generally
do well with things that didn�t have a defined outcome and this was the epitome
of undefined.� Without knowing where
things would go, she had a very hard time deciding whether or not her actions
had been the right ones.� But she also
knew that right and wrong weren�t really the issue.

Discomposed for no rational reason,
she started to remove her hands.� He
caught one and brought it to his lips.�
She fought the urge to pull it away.�
He wasn�t doing anything wrong.�
He was being exceptionally gentle and one might even say tender.� This kind of behavior earlier had made her
melt, made her heart open up like a lotus, and now it wanted to snap shut,
transformed into a carnivorous flower with a fly in its nectar.

For the first time since waking,
her brain wasn�t fogged by the wonder of the night before.� It was slowly moving away from the thrill of
how incredible it was to see him like that, to touch him, taste him, to know
what kind of passion existed inside him.�
Inexorably, logic was flooding back in.�
And logic said that it was the most complicated, dangerous thing she had
ever done.

�You�re upset,� he said.� One hand wrapped firmly around her wrist and
the other reached up to capture the appendage that had escaped him.� Now she was the fly stuck in the nectar.�

�This�it�s�I��

�Do you need a label?� he
asked.� �Is that what it is?�

�I need a��

What label could he possibly give
her?� And, well, what did she need?� Too much, most of which she couldn�t put into
words.� She needed to make sure her moral
compass wasn�t depolarized.� She needed to
be sure she wasn�t dreaming.� She needed
to know that she wasn�t throwing away her relationship with Ron for someone
less deserving.� She needed to have
someone other than herself or Lucius tell her that
this was all right, because she didn�t trust either to think straight.

�Do you regret it?�� He had turned his face away, but she saw him
swallow heavily.� �Do you wish it hadn�t
happened?�

She knew how much it would hurt him
if she said yes.� She could feel the tide
of pain already, lapping at the edge of her mind.� It was bruising his ego just to see her
suffer this paroxysm of doubt.� Hermione
couldn�t help it.� He had been so right
this morning, when he said she should try to turn her brain off.� It did this to her; it made her question her
instincts.

�No, I don�t regret it.�� She felt tears stinging her eyes.� �It was wonderful.�

�It can continue to be
wonderful.� Forget everything.� Let us be as blank as this parchment for a
few more days�� he trailed off, gesturing at the small stack of parchment he
hadn�t yet used.

The tone of his voice made her
forget her own struggle for a moment.�
There was a quiet plea in it, coupled with a low, sad resignation.� This was exactly what she was trying to
siphon away from him, this melancholy.�
That was what the afternoon�s plotting had been about.� How had she gone from comfortable in the
enigma of their union to completely unnerved by it?� There was something her mind wanted, needed,
but she had no clue what it was.�

He released her hands, apparently
taking her silence as a denial.� Lucius stood and turned.�
His spine was rigid and his body tense.�
�You�ve spoken many words to me about what I am and what I can be�and
still, you only see what I was.�� It
wasn�t accusatory, just straightforward, and that was what surprised her the
most.

Hermione�s eyes widened.� �No, Lucius, I�m
just�� She didn�t know what she
was.� Something was blocking her
words.� Silence stretched between
them.� She could see the muscles in his
jaw tightening.� At last he spoke, his
voice strained.

�Should I apologize?� Is that what you want, for me to say I�m
sorry for my previous existence?�

�Are you?�� She wondered sometimes.� Yes, she could admit that she wanted to know
the depth of his remorse.� Maybe that was
what had been nagging at the back of her mind.�
Maybe that was the last barrier to everything.

�I was sick, Hermione,� he growled.

�Then you�re not sorry?� It�s someone else�s fault?� she fired back,
feeling her anger rise abruptly.

�You don�t understand,� he returned
numbly.� �You don�t understand the way he
manipulated me and I don�t expect you to.�
If I am sorry for anything, it is ever listening to him.� Ever believing a word he said.�� His shoulders drooped slightly and a deep
sigh made his chest rise and fall.� �The
simple fact is that I chose to follow
him�in the beginning.� I was not so far
gone then.� But it was far enough.�

An almost corporeal relief swept
through her at the play of regret on his face, easily replacing the brief
anger.� She did understand the way Voldemort had manipulated him, courtesy of the nightmare
she�d witnessed after his breakdown.� The
hell-eyed bastard had scented blood, young, frightened, volatile blood, and he
had known exactly what to do to make Lucius a monster
� his beautiful monster.�

No matter how sick he�d been, this
wasn�t the proverbial �get out of jail free� card for Lucius.
�He couldn�t just shake off his former
life; the disease was karmic proof of that.�
The things he�d done clung like burrs to a pant leg.� Eventually the burrs could be cast off but
not without a sharp prick to the fingers that sought their removal.� She knew she was sticking him quite painfully
right now.

�It was�him,� she said softly, her
throat tight with emotion.� The menace of
that dream and the reality of what Voldemort had done
to him, the full extent of which was still unknown, hit her powerfully.� �He took advantage of you.�

�I didn�t fight it�� He looked away.� �It seemed like the solution to everything
that plagued me.� I know now that I had
other options.�

�How much fight could you have had,
after everything you went through?�

�There are people whose lives are
far worse than mine was�who never turn out like me.�

�You�re right, some turn out
worse,� she said.� She had wanted him to
acknowledge that he�d made some grievously wrong turns in his life, but not
descend into too much self-directed blame.�
That wouldn�t help him.� �And most
people don�t have the misfortune of catching Voldemort�s
eye.�

�Please, I don�t wish to hear his
name,� he said quietly.� �I don�t
understand you, Hermione.� In one breath
you condemn me and in another you comfort me.�
Are you trying to break me down or build me up?�

She thought back to her high-rise
analogy, to the pretty building collapsing into the liquefied soup of its
foundation.� Hermione offered him a small
smile.� �You can�t rebuild something
until you figure out why it fell down.�

He closed his eyes.� �Are you an architect?� Because I must inform you
that I�m not a pile of blocks.�

�I know,� she agreed softly.� �Lucius, I don�t
see you as the man you were.� If I did, I
would have turned you in ages ago, Vow or no Vow.� I wouldn�t be here.� I�ll admit that my feelings are�not always
consistent, and I have a hard time accepting how much things have changed.� Can you honestly say that you don�t sometimes
see me as what I was?�

�I can only see you as you are,
because I had no concept of what you were.��
He took a tentative step forward, erasing the distance he�d put between
them.� Hermione�s breath caught.� That might have been one of the most profound
things anyone ever said to her and coming from him it was one hell of a panacea.� She was like a deer in the headlights as he
slowly drew level with her, moving carefully so as not to spook her away.� His hand cupped her cheek.� �The man who thought he knew what you were
died in the war.�

She touched his hand, fingers
drifting across the skin and knuckles.

�Doesn�t it frighten you?�

�What do I have to be frightened
of?� he asked, shaking his head.� �The
only thing left for me to fear is losing my son and I�ve already done that, at
least emotionally�but physically, I know he�s safe.�

It was the first time he had
mentioned Draco in any serious and present terms.� The hurt in his voice was palpable.� It was tempered with understanding, though;
he knew his son was within his right to be angry.� �Draco will forgive
you,� Hermione said.� Her foolish ex-classmate
could hold a grudge, but in the end his parents were the only thing he had.� He just needed time to put his mind and his
life in order.

�Perhaps,� Lucius
replied, but didn�t seem convinced.� �But
Hermione, so many of my mistakes were borne of fear.� I can�t let it hold sway over me anymore.�

She looked up at him, staring into his
pale blue eyes.� Oh, she knew fear.� She recalled it easily, the suffocating,
mindless beast that had blanketed her so often during that last year of the
war.� It still cropped up on her
sometimes, but it wasn�t remembrance of events that reduced her to shivery
tears.� It was the knowledge of how lucky they had been, of how many times
they could have died, and of how often they had to push that to the back of
their minds and just go on like terror wasn�t lurking around every corner.� It was so visceral, that realization that she
could have died at sixteen in the Department of Mysteries or at eighteen during
the horcrux hunt.�
Dolohov could have killed her.� Bellatrix could
have killed her.� Greyback
could have killed her.� Any random Death
Eater at the Battle of Hogwarts could have killed her.� But it was never Lucius
behind that wand.

Yes, they had faced him in the
Department of Mysteries and the unspoken threat was always there.� But the very fact that he hesitated, that he
didn�t just fire the Killing Curse like Bellatrix or
lethal-had-it-been-verbalized hexes like Dolohov,
made him different.� They wouldn�t have
stood a chance against him, DA or not.�
He could have killed them all for his agenda.� Even in the haze of his insanity, he had
recognized the difference between getting what he wanted and murdering
children.� His compatriots never had.

Cedric Diggory�s
face flashed in her mind.� Then Fred Weasley.� Colin Creevey.� Even Draco, fenced
in by a wall of unquenchable fire, knowing he was dead unless his enemy had
mercy upon him.� A cascade of people,
faces, splintered families.� And then the sounds, explosions and shouts and cries�

The muggles
called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.�
The wizarding world didn�t have a name for
it.� She knew she had it; for the month
or two immediately after the war she would panic if her wand wasn�t directly in
her hand or up her sleeve.� She sometimes
became insecure in crowds and especially in restaurants, irrationally believing
that someone was going to come out of nowhere and try to kill her.� Loud noises spooked her and she�d suffered
many sleepless nights, plagued by nightmares.�
After one of those nightmares had woken her screaming and crazy at her
memory-restored parents� house in Australia, they had forced her to
tell them all that happened in the war.�
When she was finished her mother climbed into bed with her and stayed
there the rest of the night while her father went to make some phone calls.� The very next day she was in therapy.

It had helped immensely.� She had tried to get Harry and Ron to see
someone, too, but they weren�t particularly receptive.� Harry spent most of the six months after the
war just existing, sleeping, reading, spending time with Ginny and being as reclusive
as he possibly could.� It seemed like
that was what he needed.� Ron, on the
other hand, had finally gotten his fame.�
He had done most of the liaising with the media.� He had attended the flurry of balls and galas
and store openings and whatever other mundane activity they could possibly
think of to involve war heroes in.� When
he was not at some event he spent much of his time quiet, sullen, and
sleep-deprived, but his family had drawn closer than ever.� Through them � and her - he had found
solace.� Somehow life marched on.

Hermione tried to blink back her
tears.� What was she afraid of?� A man more broken than her?�
A caricature?�
Her heart winning a battle with her mind?

�I�ve told you before I�m not worth
crying over,� he said, his arms wrapping around her tightly.�

�It�s�not you,� she hiccupped into
his pectorals.

�Then what is it?�� Besides
all my former misdeeds, his mind strayed.

�Sometimes I�I have these
flashbacks�I know you must, too��

He sighed and he pulled her in
closer, if that was possible.� Her tears
were wicked away by his shirt.� �All the time.�

�But we just go on with our
lives�even though we�re�a mess inside��

�As they say, misery loves
company,� he murmured, his hand sifting through her curls.� �But the thing is, in good company we are no longer miserable.�

Hermione felt like she�d been
struck by lightning.� He was right, so
right.� She had been happier during most
of this time with him than she had been in the last two years.� Even trying to puzzle him out and weathering
the emotional squalls, she felt enriched, enlivened�she felt like she had before, antebellum.� He made her feel hopeful.� Idealistic.� Non-cynical.� Confident in the goodness of people�and like
she had some control over the world around her.�
It was ironic; all the things she sought to foster in him, he had also
re-sown in her.

She threw her arms around his neck
and jumped, clamping her thighs around him.�
The sudden move and extra weight threw him off balance, but he managed
catch himself.� He opened his mouth to
say something.� She smothered it with her
lips.� He kissed her for a moment before
he attempted to speak again, his lips still half-pressed against hers.

�Hermione--�

She stuck her tongue in his
mouth.� They had done enough talking for
the moment.� He got the message, gladly
offering the partnership of his tongue.� Very gladly.� He was
kissing her hard, his hands on her bottom.

For her part, Hermione was
experiencing a perilously quick and dizzying climb to arousal.� As sad as she had been moments before, she
was now incredibly, incredibly turned on.�
Perhaps that wasn�t the right word.�
No.� She was needy.

That was all right; so was he.� She knew it was sublimating all the feelings
they struggled with, that it wasn�t immediately dealing with the emotional scar
tissue, but it was a way to heal.�
Accepting one another was momentous.�
She saw that now.

His tongue was thrusting and
sliding along hers, mapping her mouth, her teeth, her
lips.� He pulled the hem of her dress up
so that he could touch her skin, his palms sliding along the back of her
thighs.� It was unspeakably sensual and
she squirmed against him.

Then they were moving.� He was walking.� Toward the house, into the house, and once
they were inside the door he was pressing her up against the wall, the cool
stone soaking its serenity into her back.

The support of the wall helped him;
he was able to lean back slightly and undo the tie of her dress.� It would have been convenient if her bra was
a front closure, but it wasn�t.� With his
lips scoring her neck and collarbones, she struggled out of the dress sleeves
and he tugged the straps down.� They
probably looked ridiculous.� She didn�t
really give a damn when finally, finally his mouth found her nipple.

�Lucius,�
she gasped, almost beyond thought.�
�Oh�the spells��

�Here,� he breathed, pressing a
wand into her hand.� She honestly wasn�t
sure if it was hers or his.� It didn�t
matter.� She quickly cast the necessary
spells over both of them.� And one more thing�

�Accio condoms!�

The box zoomed to them with such
speed that Hermione couldn�t quite catch it.�
It flew through her fingers directly into the side of Lucius�s head and then fell into the space between their
chests.� He barely blinked, though he did
mutter, �A bit overzealous, hm?�

�You�re the one shoving me up
against the wall!�

�You started it,� he replied.

�And you better finish it,� she
demanded.� At the tone in her voice his
urgency multiplied; he extracted one of the condoms, tossed the box on the
floor, and tore open his prize.� He
didn�t even need to voice what he wanted when he held it up.� She cast the Unbreakable charm with a tremor
of excitement in her voice.

He let her ease to the floor,
unable to hold her up and apply the prophylactic at the same time.� That was fine; Hermione took the opportunity to
wiggle out of her knickers and then watch as he doffed the rest of his
bothersome garments.� God, he looked sexy
in nothing but an unbuttoned dress shirt and a condom.� Her arousal wasn�t lacking by any means, but
the sight of him caused an additional warm rush between her thighs.

He pried the wand from her hand and
cast the No-slip spell while she ogled him.�
Then he dropped the wand on the floor and leaned forward with a low
growl, his hands hooking beneath her bum and lifting.� Now the wall was cold against her back and it
contrasted radically with the heat his body provided as he pressed against her.

The kiss he captured her in erased
all thought.� And if anything remained,
the sensation of him carefully lowering her onto his cock obliterated it.� He found his fit easily and let his hips and
gravity do the rest, sinking him to the root inside her.� She moaned into his mouth, moving her tongue
against his and looping her arms around his neck for support and leverage.� It didn�t offer much, but she could at least
raise herself an inch or two.� She did
so, impatient for his motion.

�Witch, you will be the end of me,�
he exclaimed, his voice a bit strained.�
She knew the delay was only because he needed to find the right
configuration.� He did a moment later,
staggering his feet and pulling her a few inches from the wall.� Her upper back still rested on it, supporting
some of her weight, and now he could hook her legs over his arms at the
knee.� He pulled back and thrust
experimentally.� Hermione�s vision
clouded; that was an exceptionally
good angle.� The whimper that came from
her throat told him that.

He smiled and then lowered his
mouth to her nipples.� As he tongued and
sucked, he began to rocks his hips in earnest.�
He could plunge so deep like this; Hermione felt impaled, almost
overfilled.� But the slight discomfort of
that was offset by the heavenly slide of each thrust, until the emptiness when
he pulled back felt stranger than the fullness.�
He lifted his head and kissed her and they sighed into one another�s mouths.

They both knew this wouldn�t be
prolonged.� Lucius
couldn�t hold her up forever.� She was
fine with that.� Last night he had
clutched so tightly to his control, probably worried that after a three year
drought, he wouldn�t last long enough.�
He had far exceeded her expectations.�
What had driven her most insane, though, was seeing him lose that control, feeling him thrust
hard against her, hearing sounds of unrestrained pleasure spill from his
lips.� There was something about a man
like him coming undone.

This was the perfect vantage
point.� They were close to the open door
so the cooling charm wasn�t as efficient as it might have been further into the
house; faint glistens of sweat were already appearing on him.� His eyes were closed, his head tilted back
slightly and his lips parted as he pressed into her with escalating force.

A moment later he caught her
staring.� He made a slight adjustment in
their position and Hermione�s world shivered; every move he made rubbed
maddeningly on her clit.� She hadn�t
known it was possible to be this turned on.�
All she could do was gasp and writhe against him, desperately seeking
the release he stoked.

�That�s better,� he breathed.� He leaned close again, nipping and suckling
at her earlobe.� �I want to hear you scream.�

His words provoked a little spasm
inside her.� Inflamed with passion, she
twined her hands into his hair and tugged.�
The result was fantastic; he released a groan and slammed his hips
against her hard enough to rock her head back against the wall.� The impact sent a red-hot bolt of ecstasy
careening through her and tore an answering moan from her throat.

All right?� His voice sounded in her head, fragmented by
the roar of input that was currently flooding her brain.� He must have been worried about the bump on
her head.

�I�m fine!� she nearly
shrieked.� Oh, Merlin, she was so
close.� �Do that again!�

A shaky exhalation escaped
him.� �What�s the magic word?�

�Please, Lucius,
you sadistic son of a--!�

�Oh, yes, that�s it�� He threw his head back and pounded into her,
raising her body a few inches each time he thrust inside her slick
passage.� The corridor filled with pants
and moans and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

She was losing her mind.� It was so deliciously rough.� She had never before understood the appeal of
a quickie, for lack of a better term; then again, she had never in her life
become so aroused in so short a time.� It
felt bloody amazing and she was going to squeeze him clean off when she came,
Merlin help her�!

�Lucius!� Lucius!��

She didn�t realize she was shouting
his name like a mantra.� He did, though,
and it was shattering what little control he had.� She felt him shift her like she weighed
nothing, lifting her legs slightly so that her calves rested on his
shoulders.� Then he leaned forward and
braced his hands on the wall, effectively folding her and bringing her knees up
against her chest.

He was so deep that she could
barely breathe.� But oh, God, she was
there, there, just a hair�s breadth from an insane orgasm.� And because she could hardly move, pinned as
she was, it felt like every twitch of pleasure was pooling between her
legs.� It drew in from every nerve
ending, every tactile receptor, every muscle, building
and building until her only scattered thought was that she was a goddess about
to birth the universe.

There was a great clench in her
womb and she physically felt her insides crush around him, tugging at his
intrusion as if she was trying to pull him even further in.� Pleasure exploded in every direction,
spiraling, zig-zagging, wreaking havoc on her nerve
endings.� She couldn�t thrash.� All she could do was keen and scream and
squeeze.

In the force of that orgasm he
couldn�t last.� His tortured yet entirely
beautiful cries joined hers as her warm woman�s sleeve gripped him in
relentless spasms, wringing out his own release.� It lasted a long time, continuing through
many shallow thrusts and a litany of exaltations and groans.� She forced herself to open her eyes.� Watching him was her second-favorite part.

That was perfect.� His face was a flushed mask of ecstasy.� Slowly, their orgasms receded together, hers
lowering to a dull, tight throb of remembered pleasure.� Her left leg slipped from his shoulder and he
caught it with a trembling arm.� She felt
like every bone and muscle in her body had liquefied.� From the way he leaned on her, he probably
felt the same, yet he was still half supporting her weight.

They breathed hard,
speechless.� She couldn�t say how many
minutes went by before she found some words.

�Oh, God.� Oh my God.�

He made a sound of
acknowledgement.� Then he carefully
pulled out and lowered her to her feet.�
She was grateful for the wall; she wasn�t entirely sure how he could
crouch down to pick up his wand without keeling over.� A moment later he wrapped his arm around her
waist and apparated them to the bedroom.� He laid her in the bed that Jo-Jo had made
yet again and then disappeared from her hazy, swimming vision for a minute or
two.� Then he was back, falling into bed
beside her without a word.� There they
lay for a long time, luxuriating in stunned, satiated silence.

Hermione noticed, half an hour
later, that her fingers were twined with his � and that he was dead
asleep.� Smiling, she curled up to
him.� A little nap wouldn�t hurt.� Jo-Jo would wake them for dinner.� Hermione wondered what she would think when
she found a pile of empty clothing in the hallway.� The poor, poor elf.

It wasn�t Jo-Jo that woke them, but
rather Crookshanks and the kitten.� In an odd mockery of their earlier
conversation, both cats invited themselves into bed with the mostly-naked
couple.� Hermione woke with Crookshanks pawing at her hair and Lucius,
startled awake by the weight of the kitten on his chest, sat up quickly with a
confused look on his face.� The sudden
motion made the kitten tumble into his lap.�
He blinked at the bundle of fur that now contentedly lounged in his
rather exposed groin.

�That is not where you belong,� he
grumbled.� He cautiously lifted the kitten
out of his lap and placed it between them before easing back down.� Hermione had already shooed Crooks away from
her hair; he knew very well it was not a toy.

�How about we just named the kitten
Ginger?� she said after a few content minutes passed.

�It�s a male.� You can�t name a male Ginger,� he replied
around a yawn.

�Why not?�

�No.�

She propped up on one arm,
contemplating him.� �Do you have a better
idea?�

�I�m fairly certain that I recently
ejaculated half of my brain cells, so no, I do not.�

Hermione smiled and poked him in
the arm.� �You just don�t want to name
him.�

�So?�

�Look at this face,� she pressed,
lifting the kitten and holding him where Lucius could
see.

�A right sort cuter than your cat,�
he snorted.

�Careful, he�ll hear you and pee on
your manuscript.�

Lucius
rolled his eyes.

�I�m serious.� He�s very smart.� He�s part kneazle,
you know.�

�All right, I take it back.� He�s very handsome.��

�Do you have a familiar?� Hermione
persisted.

Lucius
sighed dramatically.� �I will think of a name.� Does that satisfy you?�

She couldn�t keep the smug smile
off her face.

�Careful,� Lucius
admonished, sitting up and leaning over her.�
�Grins like that beg to be kissed off.�

�Is that so?�

�It is.�� He descended toward her lips and Hermione
stilled in anticipation, but at the last moment he feinted and climbed over
her, escaping the bed.� She threw a
pillow at him.� He deflected it easily
and picked up his trousers.� Jo-Jo had
brought their clothes back in, folding and hanging them neatly.� She really was above and beyond.

And so was Lucius,
with trousers that she knew hid no boxers beneath them, an unbuttoned shirt,
and sex-tousled hair.� It really was sort
of unfair how attractive he was.� Though,
she doubted many women ever got to see him like this, so she felt a little
better.

�What do you want for dinner?� he
asked, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt.

�Something
delicious.�

�I will refrain from commenting and
deliver that message to the chef.�

Hermione lay in bed for a while,
thinking.� It was like her mind and her
mouth worked independently of one another around Lucius;
before she could even quantify her thoughts, she was bantering with him.� It was so easy.� And so disconcerting.

Lucius Malfoy�s sexual and relational behavior had never been a very
prominent topic of thought in her past, but she realized that she had expected
certain things of him.� She expected a
cold man, someone who cared for his pleasure and no one else�s and took it with
frightening, emotionless precision.�
Certainly not someone who would lie in bed with her afterward, flirt and
joke and tease.�

The level of affection he was
displaying was something she hadn�t thought him capable of.� She was so thrown by it that she couldn�t
quite believe it was real.� She felt like
every moment of it was some great hallucination.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that
it was genuine.� He wasn�t acting.� The things he said and did were real, borne
from some amorphous feeling inside him that he refused to be ashamed of.� For a long time she had cursed the house of Slytherin for their constant need to speak half-truths and
always behave as though someone was watching.�
Now that Lucius wasn�t doing either, she had
lost a reference point.� She felt like
she had gone to sleep one night and woken up in another universe.

Maybe she had, but surely Lucius felt the same way.�
Evidently, he handled it better than her.� Or maybe he just didn�t care.

The bottom line was that aside from
his unsavory past and eventual future, Lucius was
turning out to be a fantastic companion.�
Hermione could scarcely wrap her head around it.� But maybe, just maybe, she didn�t need
to.�

Dinner was rich and the
accompanying wine left them both heavy-eyed and serene.� Hermione had consumed too much of it, but not
so much that she was truly intoxicated.�
Seeing Lucius drink still set off a small
flare in her mind, given his mother�s fate, but he seemed firmly in control of
the vice.� He helped himself to wine but
was never even close to drunk.

Words seemed to have gone out of
favor.� They had probably used up their
day�s quota in the courtyard�s pseudo-confrontation.� That was all right; conversation would most
likely spoil the calm perfection of the moment.

He had enlarged her bath and
dragged her in with him, not that she had put up much resistance.� There she lounged, seated between his thighs
with her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder.� His hands rested along the smooth bareness of
her skin, caressing every so often, yet his touch wasn�t overtly sexual.

She tried to think but found that
she couldn�t.� Her mind refused.� It was blank and tranquil.� All it processed was the sound of crickets coming
in through the open window, his soft, even breath, and the warm, fragrant cocoon
of his body and the water around her.�
There were so many lovely sensory things to pay attention to.

Blank
as parchment�

He�d done it.� He�d made her feel instead of think.� And she wondered dreamily if this peace was
anything like what he felt when he had her close to him.� If it was, she could understand his
moth-to-the-flame behavior.

Ah, but that was too much
thought.� It had been a long, tumultuous
day.� She was tired, so very tired and
full and buzzed and�content.� With a
small smile Hermione turned slightly, tucking her head beneath his chin.� The runes and everything else could wait
until tomorrow.��

<>

Author�s Note 2.0:� I
decided I would try something fun and�.hold a contest to determine the name of
the kitten!� E-mail your suggestions to fbs_updates@yahoo.com with the subject �kitten
contest�, and remember, this kitten is going to be Lucius�s familiar, so it has to be something that suits
him.� The winner�s prize will be a short
one-shot (no more than 10 pages) with the pairing & prompt of their choice!� I�ll accept naming suggestions until next
Saturday, 9/20.� The winner will be
announced with the posting of the next chapter.�
I think that�s everything�go forth and brainstorm!
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