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Accidental Blood Bond	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 45434 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Harry Potter, no characters no magic, none of the story and I make no money from this!!

Chapter List
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Lucius sprawled his limbs across the mattress, recoiling slightly when he felt his foot brush against a soft leg. Opening his eyes, he saw messy light brown curls spilling atop of the grey duvet. He wondered to himself how he could have forgotten that he was sharing a bed with the young witch; she'd cried herself to sleep the night before while keeping him awake in the process.

After taking a trip to the bathroom, Lucius slipped on his robe and appraised the sleeping young woman in his bed. Hermione Granger was a far cry from the repugnant child that he'd first encountered years ago in Flourish and Blotts. She wasn't the tall, willowy sort that usually caught his eye, but judging from the bit that he'd seen after walking in on her half dressed, he deemed her attractive enough in her own right.

She'd slept curled in a tight little ball on her side, one hand beneath her cheek and the other draped over the pillow. Trying not to cringe at her unmanicured nails or the wild sleep-mussed curls partly concealing her face, Lucius noticed the smatter of freckles dusted across her nose and the lush, pink mouth that was slightly parted.

Frowning when his eyes settled on the faint dried tears on Hermione's cheeks, Lucius abruptly tied the robe's sash and left the bedroom.

"Father, are you joking? Granger is my age!" Draco implored.

It was half an hour later and Lucius now sat across from his son as he explained the precarious situation over breakfast.

"That hasn't escaped my notice, Draco," Lucius replied sounding agitated. "I just need to figure out what do with the maladroit witch that's less than than half my age."

Draco arched a perfect blonde eyebrow and smirked at his father. "I can name a few things if you're at a loss," he offered suggestively.

"Be serious!" the patriarch snapped. "It took me a year just to find the girl, and after I got her here, she fought me tooth and nail and then cried herself to sleep."

Draco shoved another piece of bacon in his mouth, making sure to chew and swallow first before speaking. His father had a bone of contention with any faux pas that occurred during meal times. "A year? Why haven't you told me about this before?"

"Keeping things to yourself was never one of your strong points, Draco," Lucius said, picking up his teacup. "I hope that you will use discretion this go around. The last thing I need is for that wretched Skeeter woman to find out." Cold, grey eyes flashed warningly at the young man who nodded emphatically.

"I understand, Father," Draco assured. "I will say this; you could have done worse. Remember-"

"Please, don't remind me," Lucius aggrieved holding up a ringed hand, knowing what his son was about to rehash.

Despite the war and losing his wife, it seemed that there was a non-ending trail of witches yearning to become the next Madam Malfoy. He'd loved his wife and never strayed during their marriage, and losing her had been hard. Although he was still a man that had urges, unbeknownst to his son, Lucius had taken up a few gratuitous offers of a brief shag, merely as an outlet for built up sexual tension. He'd never brought anyone to his manor, opting to go to the witch of the moment's place instead.

"If anything, she'll keep you on your toes," Draco said, interrupting his father's thoughts. "She really is a know-it-all, and she'll most likely empty out your vault at Gringotts on books. But as much as it pains me to say this, I have to admit that Granger is one of the good ones."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son's assessment. "Do I sense a whiff of admiration?"

Draco gave a small shrug much to his father's consternation. "A close brush with death can change your perspective on things. I behaved like a complete prat towards her at school, and, in the end, she and those two gits still saved my hide from that burning room."

Inwardly, Draco added that his father had also changed but remained silent. Memories of being thumped with his cane still fresh in his memory.

It had been tense between father and son after Narcissa died, yet in his own gruff way Lucius had offhandedly apologized for the way that he'd behaved towards Draco. They hadn't arrived at the point where they'd retire to the study and talk for hours over a bottle of firewhiskey, but the two were able to hold a conversation without Lucius berating him or whacking him with his walking stick.

Taking another sip of juice, Draco wiped his mouth with a napkin before tossing it back onto the table. "I'm off then. I have a meeting with Kingsley and he'll have my head if I'm late," he said pushing back in his seat. "Don't forget to tell my new Mummy that I said 'hello'."

Draco's last sentence caused Lucius to nearly drop his fork. He shot his son as scathing look as he Apparated with a pop.

"Tipsy!" Lucius bellowed, still glaring as the house elf came into view. "Go to my chambers and see what the young lady is doing."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Tipsy squeaked before vanishing from her spot. Less than a minute later she reappeared. "She's still asleep, sir."

"When she awakes, make sure she has something eat," he told the elf. "In the meanwhile, I'll be in my study."

Tipsy nodded her head as her brooding Master left the small dining room.

A couple hours later, Hermione languidly stretched her limbs, sighing at the comfortably thick duvet she was cocooned beneath. For the first time in awhile her rest hadn't been fitful, and her head finally felt clear. Opening her eyes she saw the afternoon sun beaming onto dark grey walls.

Sitting up and peering down at her oversized, dark blue pajamas, Hermione groaned when she realized that everything hadn't been a dream. Looking over to see the rumpled bed sheets, she noticed that Lucius had already gotten up.

Sliding out of the four poster bed, Hermione began mentally griping over the too-long garments when a small, female house elf Apparated a few inches away from her.

"Hello misses! I'm Tipsy; Master said I was to make sure you got a meal when you got out of bed."

"Thank you Tipsy," Hermione said. "Do you know where my clothes are? Mr. Malfoy said he'd had them sent here and I'd like to be properly dressed."

Tipsy bore a skeptical look on her face, then begged Hermione's pardon before Disapparating. Seconds later she returned. "Master said to tell you…that he doesn't want to see any bedraggled Muggle clothing in his house," the house elf reported verbatim sounding rather apologetic.

Raising an eyebrow, Hermione politely moved from around Tipsy and stalked out of the bedroom. "Lucius Malfoy!" she yelled while trying not to trip on her pajama pants. Hearing dead silence, she continued to yell, her voice echoing throughout the long hallways causing the portraits on the walls to complain.

Flouncing down a grand staircase with Tipsy on her heels, Hermione continued with her tirade. "Lucius Malfoy, you tell me where my belongings are! Lucius! I know you hear me!"

As her bare feet pattering on the wood floor, Hermione rushed past a cluster of large windows that nearly reached to the ceiling. Looking for any doors that might reveal the tall, blond wizard that was responsible for her annoyance, Hermione happened upon a familiar area of the house that made her stop short.

Lucius was seated at his desk in the study when he heard the unmistakable shrill of Hermione's voice reverberate throughout the manor.

"Quite the virago you have out there," the portrait over the large fireplace remarked conversationally.

Hissing in annoyance, Lucius tossed down the sheaf of parchment he was writing on and got up from his desk. He walked out of the room to see Tipsy standing next to Hermione who looked scared witless.

"You little shrew, what are you going on about?" he hissed at the young witch that now had a blank look on her face, both arms engulfed in oversized blue sleeves wound tightly about her torso.

When she didn't look back at him or even respond to the query, Lucius took a step back and realized what had her so distressed. They were in the very room that Bellatrix had tortured her in; no doubt the unpleasant memories had taken over her thoughts.

After ordering Tipsy to bring Miss Granger's meal and a pot of tea to his study, he gently grasped the young woman by the cuff of her arm and led her off. Once they were inside, Lucius guided Hermione to sit down on a sofa, settling himself in the opposite armchair. Her eyes were still unfocused and she curled her body up in place, her limbs swallowed up by the dark blue silk.

"Sorry about that," Lucius offered gruffly, turning his head when Tipsy Apparated in the room with a tray. After being hastily directed to leave it on the table, the house elf quickly vanished. "How do you take your tea?" Lucius then asked, pouring some of the fragrant, amber colored liquid into a Baroque white teacup.

It was then that Hermione regained a bit of her composure. "Where are my clothes?" she asked, angry brown eyes meeting cooler grey ones.

Lucius didn't respond to her question, the teapot still in his hands as his eyes implored questioningly into Hermione's.

"Two sugars and a dash of cream," she finally answered, watching as Lucius added each item to her cup.

Pushing the wild curls out of her face, Hermione took the proffered tea and sipped it before repeating her initial question. "What have you done with my clothes, Lucius?"

"You're welcome," he replied backhandedly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, ignoring his snide remark.

"After you eat, I'll show you around the house. Then you can have your grubby little garments."

Teacup still up to her lips, Hermione narrowed her eyes at the pretentious man. "What about my wand?"

"Yes, your clothes, your wand and those filthy trainers. I should have had Tipsy and the other house elves launder everything first."

"I don't want house elves washing my clothes," Hermione bristled.

"What, do you intend on washing them yourself?" Lucius asked.

"Does the mere thought of doing your own laundry offend thee, Lordly Lucius?"

Lucius studied the young witch, who now sat smirking at him. "Suit yourself," he answered. "I wish you success on finding the laundry room."

"I'll just ask Tipsy!" she shot back.

"Good luck with that; remember I'm the Master, she only answers to me," Lucius replied cynically.

"And who was it that said 'for all intents and purposes I'm your wife'? If my memory serves me correctly, that was you. So, if you're the Master, what does that make me?"

"Miss Granger, I'm not going to sit here and going into a trivial debate over laundry with you," he replied glowering. "Have your meal; I know you're famished. You didn't eat anything before going to that hovel of a pub nor did you have anything there. Wise choice on your part. Who knows what diseases were lurking in that place?"

"You scheming little-just how long were you watching me!" Hermione snapped.

"Long enough," Lucius replied with a chuckle. He then removed the lid off the serving tray to reveal Hermione's late breakfast. "Eat," he ordered before standing up to walk back over to his desk.

Hermione's empty stomach churned as she eyed her meal. "Lucius Malfoy, if you try and poison me I promise that I will come back and haunt you," she threatened.

"You little termagant; I can think of at least ten better things that would prove more pleasurable than poisoning you," Lucius replied, his head now bent over the previously abandoned parchment. He then paused for a second and reflected on his son's earlier statement.

"I can name a few things if you're at a loss."

Hermione tried to tell herself that there was no underlying message beneath Lucius' statement. Instead, she focused on her meal, feeling so hungry that she had to force herself to slow down. She furtively cast glances over at Lucius who was occupied with something on a large, mahogany desk. He hadn't bothered to pull back his hair with a ribbon and the blond hair covered his face in a sleek curtain. He was dressed in a white shirt with its collar peeking over an expensive looking black velvet waistcoat. She'd already seen his black trousers as he walked over to his desk, the crease in them so sharp looking Hermione thought she would cut her fingertip should she touch it.

After finishing her meal, she sipped on another cup of tea, jumping when Tipsy popped into view to clear away the dishes. With Lucius still busy at his desk, Hermione entertained herself by taking in the view of the room. There were a few portraits on the wall depicting snooty looking men that had the same angular features and golden hair as Malfoy senior and son.

Hermione's brown eyes suddenly grew wide as she took in the vast bookshelves that reached nearly to the ceiling. Perusing over the black and brown leather encased tomes; Hermione knew that she could easily wile away hours reading in the study.

"Ever the bibliophile; just as Draco's told me," she heard Lucius say.

Hermione swiveled her head in his direction, noting that Lucius still had his head bent over and wasn't even looking up at her.

"Is that so? I wonder what else your son has told you about me," she replied scathingly.

Lucius chuckled to himself. Over the years Draco had moaned and complained about the Muggle-born witch that managed to out perform him and the rest of their classmates in every subject. Potter and the Weasleys' gangly youngest son were always glued to her hip, although Lucius couldn't remember his son saying anything about an amorous relationship with either.

He did remember saying that when Hermione didn't have her bushy head buried in a book, she had her hand in the air, always needing to spout the correct answer plus an anecdote. Many times Lucius had wanted to tell his son that he would do well to take a cap out of the young witch's cap; as his two buffoon mates Crabbe and Goyle were failing in nearly every subject. At one point, Draco was headed down the same path until his father threatened to cut his allowance if his grades didn't improve. Lucius always believed that just because he had the wealth to pass a few galleons off to secure good grades that it was no excuse for being ignorant.

Even if purely for bragging rights, when Lucius attended Hogwarts he'd made sure that his marks were high, always enjoying the extra attention from many professors that never failed to point out his achievements. As he got older, despite his dark deeds and misdoings, Lucius still enjoyed reading and often shared books with his longtime friend, and Draco's godfather, Severus.

While Lucius was still unable to come to terms with being stuck with Hermione, he was mollified in the fact that if they became amicable towards one another that they'd be able to talk about something besides scandals between the upper echelons of the wizarding society.

"I'm sure you'd love to know, pert little witch," he answered. "Nothing negative I assure you, but that brings up another point. "

Hermione watched as Lucius stood up from his desk, moving to sit down in the opposite chair.

"I've already told Draco to abstain from opening his mouth about…our situation. I think it would benefit all parties if you did the same."

"I agree," Hermione said, feeling a knot form in her stomach at the thought of telling her friends about her and Lucius. 'Hello everyone, sorry I've been out of touch for a year and by the way Lucius Malfoy and I are blood bonded.'

Hermione decided that she would keep her predicament a secret for as long as possible.

"So Draco and Snape are the only ones that know about us?" she asked warily.

Lucius nodded his head, his grey eyes boring into Hermione's.

"Well, I guess that will have to do. You'd flay Draco with that walking stick if he told, and I know for fact that the headmaster can keep a secret. But I'm curious as to why you don't want me to tell Harry and the others? They are the only family I have left, you know."

"I'm well aware of that fact, Hermione. However, I'm sure that you are privy to the fact that the Weasleys' and I have never gotten along, and they'd have little reason to believe that I've changed. Mark my words; they'd try to convince you that somehow our bonding was no accident. "

Hermione sighed, holding her head in both hands. 'Great,' she thought to herself. She wanted to tell Molly about her situation and hopefully gain some perspective, and now she'd be unable to.

"So I'm guessing public appearances together are also out of the question?" Hermione added.

"Why, were you planning some sort of excursion for the two of us?" Lucius asked.

"Well, no…" Hermione trailed off. "But I didn't envision us holing ourselves in your house for all hours, although admittedly it is large. I'm sure I'd get lost easily."

"I rarely go out nowadays unless there's a dire need" Lucius said. "Draco, on the other hand, is only here long enough to eat, sleep and most likely other things that I need not know about. Speaking of which, if we're done here I'll show you around."

"I'd like to change first," Hermione replied, stressing the word 'change'. Watching as Lucius' upper lip curled up in distaste, the young witch felt her temper rise again.

"Listen, you arrogant sod, I've been through enough as it is," she snapped. "I'm sorry that my wardrobe isn't up to your standards, but I don't have a Gringotts vault stacked with galleons to the ceiling. I've had to make do and you will deal with it. Now, where are my clothes?"

Deciding that he'd had enough of the volatile witch's temper, Lucius called for Tipsy who came into view seconds after.

"Take Miss Granger to her room," he told the house elf. "Use the other staircase."

Tipsy nodded and looked up at Hermione, who was still glaring at Lucius.

"Thank you," she replied stiffly, bunching up the front of her pajama pants much to its fussy owner's consternation.

Following behind Tipsy, Hermione kept her head down preparing herself to stay calm in anticipation of walking past the dreaded room. She was relieved when they made a detour, taking another set of steps that led to a different part of the house that Hermione hadn't noticed.

Tipsy led Hermione to a set of French doors and pushed them open, revealing a bright, airy room.

"I unpacked your things already, they're all in place," the house elf said.

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly, stepping into the room and looking around. What was to be her bedroom was as sizeable as Lucius' although the color scheme was the opposite. Dark gold and cream wallpaper with a beige border covered each wall, the curtains a similar coloring and drawn back revealing tall windows that faced the back of Malfoy Manor.

A large dark gold and burgundy half canopied bed was the focal point, leading down a dark brown and gold trimmed headboard. The bed had been made with a thick, beige duvet with a floral print décor at the edge, a slew of pillows with coordinating shams and smaller decorative pillows littering the headboard. A large wall to the left of the bed had a carved wood mantel gilded in what appeared to be real gold leaf.

Hermione found herself speechless, wondering if it was a coincidence that her bedroom nearly matched Gryffindor colors. She had to concede that the room was beautiful, as if a professional had come in and set it up. Looking closer, she found each piece of furniture to her liking; the chaise at the foot of her bed, a three-legged wooden table in the middle of two one armed chairs and set before the window. A coordinating wooden tallboy was pushed against the far wall, and in the corner a large bureau.

Sitting down in a plush red armchair on the opposite side of the bed, Hermione dug her bare feet into the thick, beige carpet.

After Tipsy left the room, Hermione stood back up wanting to further examine her surroundings. She made her way over to the windows, taking care not accidentally knock over the little table. Peering out at what appeared to be a large garden, Hermione's mouth nearly fell open when she realized the vast open area her bedroom overlooked.

Prying herself away from the window, Hermione noticed two more doors on the other side of the room. Opening the first one, she found a large walk in closet that nearly rivaled the size of a small bedroom, her scarce belongings already having been hung up on one side, looking pitiable in the open space. After closing the door to her closet, Hermione walked over to the second door, yanking it open to reveal a bathroom that had been decorated with no spared expense.

A large woven tapestry sat upon a marble floor, leading to an archway in the wall that led to a large, raised octagon marble dais holding a white, porcelain tub. The shower room encased in transparent glass was as large as Lucius' and behind the dais. Golden sconces were placed throughout the bathroom, their light softly casting off of gold wallpaper decorated with darker burnished gold leaves. There was no shortage of counter space, all of Hermione's toiletries in a neat cluster on the marble top.

The lightness of her chambers was a contradiction against the dark in the rest of the house, yet Hermione was glad for the change. Remembering that she was supposed to be changing before meeting Lucius, Hermione left the bathroom and went back to her closet.

The small selection made dressing easy, and she elected to wear her other pair of jeans and a pink pullover. Refusing to walk over the pristine beige carpet in her trainers lest she incur Lucius' wrath, Hermione slid on a pair of fluffy baby blue slippers.

She was in the process of looking for something to tie back her unruly curls with when there was a knock on the bedroom door. Crossing over to open it, Hermione found Lucius standing on the other side. His eyes flickered towards her jeans, and then the house slippers.

Hermione threw Lucius a defiant look, her eyes daring him to say something about her attire. He scoffed but remained silent, and offered his arm as if they were about to visit the opera.

It took well over thirty minutes for the two to cover just a portion of the expansive manor. Hermione tried focusing on remembering where her bedroom was, and where Lucius' was. She'd been shown the wing where Draco stayed and thankfully it was on the other side of the manor. The one room that stuck out in Hermione's memory was the library that held even more books than Lucius' study.

"I'd take you outside if not for your lack of proper footwear," he'd said sneering down at the fluffy slippers.

"Don't be a snob; I only had your immaculate tapestry in mind. You'd probably thump me with your cane if I got a single footprint on them," Hermione retorted.

"That's where you're wrong, I'd never lay a hand to you or any woman for that matter," Lucius replied easily, causing the young witch to do a double take.

"By the way, I never did find my wand in that house of a bedroom," Hermione said as an afterthought. Looking across at Lucius, she watched as he moved a hand to his suit jacket's inner pocket, withdrawing her beloved length of smooth wood.

"I trust that you'll behave yourself?" he drawled with a smile that would have been disarming to any other witch.

"Pot, meet kettle," Hermione replied stiffly.

Ignoring the repartee, Lucius tossed his hair back over one shoulder while eyeing the tense witch. "What were your plans for today?"

Turning her wand around in her fingers, Hermione cocked her head to one side as she mulled over his question. "I'm not sure... I hadn't really thought about it to be honest."

Hermione had briefly thought about visiting the Burrow, but decided against it at the last moment. She needed more time to come up with an answer about her sudden reappearance.

"What would you be doing if you were back in your little flat?" Lucius asked.

"Well, most likely I'd be leaving work right now, either going home to read or being coerced to go out with Maggie and Selma," she answered.

"Oh yes, the two little tarts," Lucius replied distastefully, remembering how the two bold young women eyed him as if they were trying to see through his robes.

Hermione frowned at his remark but didn't say anything.

"You're more than welcome to pass the time in the library," Lucius offered, eager to get the young witch out of his hair.

"Provided I remember where it is," Hermione replied ruefully.

"Just summon of one of the house elves," Lucius continued offhandedly, already turned on his heel to walk in the direction of his study.

"I can't very well call them for everything!" she yelled behind him, shaking her head when the study door closed behind him.

Feeling foolish as she stood alone in the vast hallway, Hermione trudged back up to her bedroom. Aiming her wand at the fireplace, she rifled through the untouched drawers in her room until she found her small collection of books.

With the fluffy blue slippers still on her feet, Hermione lounged diagonally across the duvet and propped herself up on one elbow with an open book beneath her. After three tries she found that she was unable to focus on the printed words and abandoned the effort. Flipping onto her back, she stared up at the ornate gold ceiling, just now realizing the intricate detailing in the material.

Looking around the beautiful room, Hermione was sure that she could think of at least ten witches that would have killed to be where she was. The fact that Lucius had also offered financial security might have sweetened the pot, but Hermione had grown up in a home with working parents and was used to living within her means.

Despite the opulence she was surrounded with, Hermione felt lonelier than ever. She and Lucius were practically strangers, now forced to cohabitate. She and Draco had more of a rapport with one another, but even after the war, his appearances had been slim. Hermione briefly wondered how he was going to react when he saw her in the house.

Deciding that she needed a cup of tea but refusing to call Tipsy, Hermione got to her feet and shoved her wand in her pocket. Navigating her way through the dark house, Hermione managed to find the kitchen where Tipsy and two other house elves were preparing vegetables at the long, marble counter.

"Hello, Tipsy," she said looking around the vast kitchen. "I won't get in your way; I just wanted to make some tea."

The little house elf became indignant, pushing a stool for Hermione to sit down on. "No!" she squeaked. "Misses won't lift one finger in my kitchen; I'll get it for you!"

"Tipsy, really I don't mind. Clearly you're busy," Hermione protested.

The house elf would have no part of it and Hermione gave in and took the offered seat, watching as Tipsy flew hastily around the kitchen and gathered a tea tray in record timing.

After polishing off two cups of strong, black tea and a few biscuits, Hermione asked Tipsy if she needed her to help sort out the vegetables. All three house elves had then looked up at her, their already large eyes completely widened.

"I don't mean to offend you," Hermione said nervously, wringing her hands. "I just have a lot of free time, and I'm rather bored. I promise I won't try to free you in any way," she added, remembering how the elves at Hogwarts had begun to avoid her after she kept surreptitiously leaving articles of clothing around for them to find.

The other two house elves looked at her strangely but bent their heads back down over their work. Tipsy, who was now smiling pulled Hermione's chair up to counter and pushed two large bowls in front of her, one empty and the other filled with peas still in their shell.

"You know the late misses never came here," Tipsy whispered to Hermione.

Hermione nodded her head, not knowing how to respond.

Hermione ended up staying in the kitchen for the next hour, finding that Tipsy reminded her of the Malfoys' previous elf Dobby and was quite pleasant to talk to. The other two elves whose names were Elva and Elvina weren't as loquacious and opted to stay out of the conversation as they went through the motions of preparing dinner. Hermione asked Tipsy if she need help with the cooking and was politely yet firmly put out of the kitchen.

Inwardly cursing Lucius for keeping his house so dimly lit, Hermione took her wand out. Using its glowing tip to guide her way, she gingerly took each step through the darkened corridor. She'd just made her way upstairs when the same portraits that scared the life from her the night before yelled, causing her to shriek loudly and drop her wand, the light becoming extinguished.

Hermione was about to bend down to find her wand when her face brushed against a warm, solid chest.

"What the devil are you doing prowling about in the dark?" Lucius asked quietly.

Reeling from fright, Hermione realized that her nose was still close to his body, and that the man smelled utterly delicious.

"I was on my way back from the kitchen!" she snapped, dropping to her knees and feeling around for her wand. Her fingertips finally found purchase on the wooden handle, which had fallen between Lucius' feet.

"What were you doing in the kitchens?" Lucius asked sounding perplexed. He couldn't remember Narcissa ever going to the kitchen, as she preferred to relegate any domestic duties to the house elves. Lucius was surprised when Hermione realized where it was as he'd briefly pointed it out in passing when he'd shown her around the house.

Panting heavily as she got back to her feet, Hermione relit her wand and held it up. The glow bounced off Lucius' face and she could see that he was staring at her, still waiting for an answer.

"I wanted tea, and then I stayed and helped Tipsy shell peas for dinner," Hermione explained. "She's actually nicer than Elva and Elvina. They didn't speak much."

"Yes well, that's why she's usually the one I call," Lucius replied, grabbing onto the hand Hermione was holding the wand with.

Surprised that Lucius was offering what sounded like a compliment whilst talking about a house elf, Hermione allowed him pull her in his direction.

Finding herself in his bedroom again, Hermione folded herself up in the chaise at the foot of the bed. Lucius threw her a withering glance, to which she silently replied by arching one eyebrow, defiantly staring him in the eye.

"We really need to do something about your lack of proper attire," Lucius commented with his back turned, his voice muffled as he was swallowed up by an enormous walk in closet that Hermione hadn't noticed before.

Hermione looked down at her denim encased legs and then to her fluffy blue feet, wriggling her toes about in the plush material. "I like my clothes, they're comfortable," Hermione said when Lucius emerged from his closet with something black in his hands. "Perhaps you should try something more casual, for instance jeans and a jumper."

Lucius paused in between taking off his day jacket and trading it for a velvet dinner one, looking at the young witch as if she'd just suggested him to dissect Flobberworms barehanded on his dining room table.

Hermione couldn't help but to giggle at the surly look that the tall blonde was giving her. "Do you really not own at least one pair of jeans? Have you ever even worn any?"

"No, as if I'd deemed to appear so casual," Lucius spat. "I've never even allowed Draco to wear the things."

Hermione lowered her head, her body shaking as she fought back a fit of laughter. Finally calming herself, she tossed her curls out of her eyes and looked back up to see Lucius in front of her. The black velvet jacket was buttoned and draped perfectly over his slim build, his sleek blonde hair neatly brushed back and bound with a ribbon. Hanging from his neck was a chain with a coiled serpent, the ring on his right hand a similar motif and he was holding onto his walking stick.

"Come along," he ordered Hermione. "You'll not sit in my dining room dressed like that."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Lucius as he pulled her to her feet, guided her by the cuff of her arm out of his bedroom, through the darkened hallway and to her bedroom. Using her wand to light the lamps, Hermione watched with her mouth agape as Lucius set down his walking stick and strode over to her closet as if he owned the place.

'Oh right, he does,' she thought to herself with a grimace.

He rifled around for a minute before producing one of her better dresses, a knee length cream knit dress with a delicate gold belt. Finding suitable shoes, Lucius set the outfit across Hermione's bed and situated himself in her armchair.

"Are you going to watch me change?" she asked, watching Lucius as he made himself comfortable, reaching for the abandoned book on her bed and folding his legs.

"If you'd like," he replied smoothly, looking up from the book jacket.

"Insufferable man," Hermione grumbled under her breath, snatching up the dress and walking around to the opposite side of the bed. She furtively glanced at Lucius who now had her book open and was perusing through what looked like the first chapter. Trying to move as far as possible out of his eyesight, Hermione hastily yanked her pink jumper from over her head. Removing the wand from her pocket, she stepped out of her jeans while trying to hide her partially clothed body from Lucius.

Lucius on the other hand had already taken in her entire frame with a brief overt glance, mentally noting that Hermione's matching baby blue bra and knicker set looked more appealing than her outerwear.

"Are you nearly ready?" Lucius asked after awhile without looking up.

Slipping her feet into the high heeled shoes, Hermione walked over to Lucius and stood in front of him, both arms folded across her chest.

Tossing the book back onto the bed, Lucius got up from the armchair and gave Hermione the once over. Silently he retrieved his walking stick and withdrew his wand from its hollowed core.

"Hold this," he said, thrusting the wand into Hermione's hand.

Clasping onto the serpent headed handle, Hermione ran her fingertips over the cold metal nearly yelping when she felt the pointed teeth prick her finger.

Moving behind Hermione, Lucius yanked back her untamed curls with one sweep of his large hands, twisting and hefting it into what felt like a knot. Holding it in place with his left hand, he then reached out the right to take back his wand. Hermione then felt a tingle at her nape, and finding that her curls weren't falling down realized that Lucius charmed them into place.

Bristling with a mixture of offensiveness and curiosity, Hermione gingerly patted the low chignon. "How do you know how to do that?" she finally asked grudgingly.

"Must you know everything?" Lucius replied nonchalantly, shoving his wand back into place. He then tugged on Hermione's arm, not giving her the chance to look in the mirror.

"I'm not your lapdog, Lucius," Hermione seethed as she felt the head of his walking stick nudging her in her lower back.

"Play nicely, Miss Granger," Lucius drawled, extending a velvet covered arm to the young woman.

Still glowering, Hermione held onto Lucius as he led her down the stairs. She wouldn't admit it but she was the teeniest bit grateful for the assistance as he'd picked out the highest pair of heels she owned. They were a gag gift given by Maggie and Selma at her surprise party at work saying, in full earshot of everyone else, that as soon as Hermione wore them she'd be sure to find a bloke to shag. When she'd finally doused the fire in her cheeks, Hermione had chased them around the office shrieking in embarrassment.

While she was more appreciative of the commonly given gifts from the other ladies, such as books, bottles of wine, or little toiletry sets, Hermione had to admit that the shoes were pretty and definitely had a 'come-hither' look to them.

However, they were higher than anything she would wear, therefore she kept them in their box, still wrapped in the pink tissue paper. Incidentally they were more comfortable than she realized even if she had to take baby steps.

Unbeknownst to her, Lucius had silently approved of the footwear, as the color and high arch made Hermione's legs look long and shapely, leading up to slight curves poking through the slim fitting knit dress.

Looking at the young witch's firm behind as she cautiously teetered into the dining room; Lucius realized that his son had indeed made an interesting point.

It was one of the most awkward dinners that Hermione had experienced. Lucius sat at the head of the vast table, with Draco across from her and Severus to her right. It was strange to have three men that always treated her with disdain now behave with the utmost decorum.

Lucius had helped her into her chair, and the few times she'd excused herself from the table and returned all three men rose to their feet. It was unnerving to say the least, and Hermione was grateful that Tipsy was diligent in refilling her wine glass.

Thankfully her and Lucius' situation wasn't brought up once, and Hermione remained quiet for the majority of the meal, catching snippets of the conversation when her mind wasn't elsewhere. After dessert had been served, Hermione was on her fourth glass of wine, slowly sipping while looking around the table.

Draco looked a bit more mature than she'd remembered; a younger version of his father in a black suit with shorter blonde hair and a now slightly less smug countenance. Professor Snape was austere as usual, even if his conversation with Lucius lent a more casual air to his contradicting appearance.

Now looking at Lucius through wine colored lenses, Hermione found her eyes appraising him slowly. Meticulously ringed and manicured hands held onto fork and knife as Lucius slowly brought each small bite to his mouth, taking his time to savor each morsel. Watching his lips repeatedly closed around the tines of the fork, Hermione found herself wondering what it would be like to feel them pressed against hers.

Suddenly wondering where the hell her errant thoughts had come from, Hermione gasped and set down her wine glass a little more forcefully than intended, causing a loud thump. The conversation lulled as three pairs of eyes focused on her and Hermione found herself wishing that she had Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Are you alright?" Lucius asked, arching one perfect dark blonde eyebrow.

"Sorry," Hermione said flustered. "I think I….excuse me." Pushing her chair back Hermione slowly got to her feet, now realizing how pissed she was as the fourth glass of wine went straight to her head. Holding onto the edge of the table, Hermione inwardly cursed the high heels she was precariously perched on, feeling the spindly heels scrape against the slippery marble floor.

Draco, Severus and Lucius got to their feet, looking at the unsteady young woman holding onto the table for dear life.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione tried to regain her composure as she straightened her back. "I believe it's time for me to turn in," she continued. "Goodnight Draco, Professor."

Lucius' name was on the tip of Hermione's tongue when he came to her side, easily catching her by the arm. "Excuse me for a moment," he said leading Hermione out of the dining room.

"I believe that's the first time I've seen the little know-it-all completely muted," Severus remarked dryly. "I find it strangely unsettling."

Fighting back a laugh, Draco took a long swig of wine from his glass. "I didn't think Granger had it in her," he guffawed. "Didn't know she looked that good from behind either," he added as an afterthought, the picture of her curvy backside popping through the snug dress still fresh in his mind.

Severus inwardly agreed, although he still shot his godson a cutting glance for his lewd comment.

Hermione was leaning heavily against Lucius, the alcohol making it hard to walk in the skinny high heels.

"For someone that frequents the pub crawl, I'd have thought that you were able to handle your liquor better than this," Lucius declared.

"Shut it," Hermione moaned, clinging onto his arm whilst focusing on not falling flat on her face. "I've only been this pissed once; and I became so ill I vowed never to do that again. Usually, I just stick with a light ale, but Tipsy kept refilling my glass and I didn't want to be rude."

"You can tell her no; she won't mind, I assure you," he replied.

Lucius stayed behind as Hermione managed to drag herself up the steps, only to stumble on her heels and fall into the wall. The portraits immediately began fussing causing Hermione to jump.

"I hate those damned things!" she cried shrilly after pushing herself back up. "Every time I walk this way, I get yelled at. With their temperament they make Snape look like the Easter bunny."

"The what?" Lucius asked, not understanding the reference.

"It's a Muggle thing," Hermione said, clasping onto Lucius' shoulder while trying to step out of her shoes. Swearing underneath her breath, she sat down on the floor and pried the offending shoes off both feet tossing them to the side with a reverberating clunk. Attempting to get back to her feet, Hermione's hands lost purchase on the marble ground and she slipped right back into a sitting position.

Lucius wondered if the witch had gone mad as she began to giggle uproariously. "I cannot believe I am this pissed!" she laughed. Shaking his head, Lucius bent down and placed both hands underneath Hermione's armpits, yanking his wine induced blithe companion to her feet.

She immediately collapsed into his side, and Lucius had to catch her around the waist. Without a second thought he yanked Hermione up into his arms and walked down the hall. Lucius' posture became slightly rigid when the young witch wrapped both arms around his neck, her nose buried into his jacket lapel.

"You smell good," she stated sounding rather matter-of-fact.

"Do I?"

"Yes," she murmured drowsily, closing her increasingly heavy eyelids. "What do you have on?"

Lucius sighed at the suddenly emboldened, yet barely lucid witch in his arms. "Maybe I'll divulge you that information one day," he said. Muttering the incantation to open his bedroom door, he walked in and set Hermione down on his bed.

Nuzzling her face into the pillow, Hermione cracked one eye open to see muted grey walls. "Why am I in your room?" she asked almost accusingly.

"Because," Lucius snapped. "Do I look like a young wizard that's able to tote inebriated witches around with ease? My room was closest so unless you're able to make your way across the house you'll have to sleep here."

Hermione closed her eyes, ignoring Lucius' ranting as she was already beginning to fall asleep. She didn't notice the bed dip down next to her beneath a sudden weight, and she flinched feeling fingers graze her bare thighs.

"Hmmph!" she protested slightly, her outcry muffled by the pillow.

"Honestly, Hermione," Lucius scoffed. "It's not as if I've never seen a witch in her knickers before," he continued deftly working the dress off her body. He was about to ask if she wanted pajamas until he heard a slight snoring.

Looking down at the curvy, young witch clad only in her blue bra and knickers, Lucius decided it wasn't a total loss if she slept as is. Her limbs were dead weight as he pulled the grey sheet and duvet over her body. Lucius then wondered if he should release the charm that he'd put on her hair, eyeing the still intact chignon. 'She'd most likely drown herself in all of that hair,' he thought to himself, deciding against it.

Hanging up Hermione's dress in his closet, Lucius left his bedroom only to trip over her abandoned shoes. Cursing loudly, he picked them up and stalked back into the room, tossing them into the closet beneath the dress.

"What the hell was that?" Draco asked when he returned to the dining room.

"Nothing," Lucius grumbled, taking his seat. "I tripped over her damned shoes; she took them off in the hallway and I'd forgotten they were there," he admitted after a pause.

"Speaking of which," Draco began suggestively, smirking across the table at his father. "What kept you so long?"

Lucius threw his son a darkened glance, causing the young man to laugh uproariously. It wasn't often that he was able to throw his old man off kilter.

"You lucky bastard," Severus drawled, a smirk also on his face.

"You two need your heads examined at St. Mungo's," Lucius grouched.

"Father, I know you're not blind," Draco continued. "I never knew Granger had all of that beneath those robes. And those shoes - bloody hell!"

"Thank you for that pithy observation," Lucius replied crisply.

"Do you think he missed the way the witch stared at him when he ate dessert?" Severus said to his godson. "It was if she wished herself to be on the fork instead."

Draco was in the midst of taking a gulp of wine, and promptly began to choke. Lucius watched as his only child became amused at his discomfort, his face turning red between a fit of laughter and slapping the table while trying to catch his breath.

"I figured it was the wine delaying her reactions," Lucius replied, still frowning at Draco who was now leaned over the arm of his chair.

"Lucius, don't be daft," Severus laughed, his rich baritone voice colored with amusement. "Besides, I'm sure you're familiar with the phrase 'in vino veritas'."

Thinking back to Hermione sniffing him and saying that he smelled good, Lucius knew that he'd better keep that little tidbit to himself lest his son and longtime friend never let him forget it.

"You two are idiots," he retorted, smoothly rising from the table. "I suddenly find myself in need of a large brandy. Unless you intend on staying here cackling like a group of hens, you're more than welcome to join me in the study."

Draining the remains of his wine glass, Draco got up and followed his father and godfather. "I don't know why Father is behaving that way, most wizards would sell their souls to have a witch half their age on their arm," he commented."Unlike that old hag-"

"What did I tell you about mentioning that wretched woman, Draco?" Lucius interrupted angrily.

"Maddie Barthodly!" Severus interjected, finishing Draco's sentence. "She had your father cornered off; I thought for sure that he was going to Avada her just to escape her clutches."

Severus and Draco laughed uproariously as they thought about the lewd woman, while Lucius cringed in distaste.

Maddie was older than Lucius and Severus, yet tried tried to gallivant about as if she was Draco's age. Her clothing was expensive yet tawdry looking, never quite fitting her stout figure properly. She wore too much rouge and a ghastly large plumed hat, and was forever chasing after attractive, wealthy wizards, whether they were married or not.

Lucius and Severus had gone to dinner one evening when the garish woman accosted him on the way back from the lavatory, standing a hairsbreadth from him and blowing her foul breath right into his face. His hand had inched towards the serpent head of his walking stick, his wand a second away from being drawn when Severus interrupted. After the two men had taken their seats Lucius barked at a house elf, ordering a double Firewhiskey to settle his turning stomach, while his friend sat chortling across the table.

Now strolling into his study, Lucius let the door close behind him not bothering to hold it open for the two men behind him.

"Father, don't be such a spoilsport," Draco jested, still laughing.

Lucius walked over the small cart holding the crystal decanters of spirits. After pouring two fingers of brandy into a glass, he unbuttoned his velvet dinner jacket and tossed back his drink.

"Aren't you going to offer?" Severus asked, settling himself next to Draco on the antique burgundy leather sofa.

"No, I don't think so," Lucius replied easily, setting his glass down on the cart and walking over to his armchair.

Heaving a gusty sigh, Severus got up from the sofa and made his way to the drink cart. "You're worse than a bunch of first years," he remarked, fixing two glasses with brandy. Handing one glass to Draco, Severus sat down and sank back into the leather, bringing the drink up to his lips.

"Shut it, Severus," Lucius said, crossing his legs and reclining back into his chair. "The least you can do, after I invite you over for a civilized dinner, is to not drink my brandy whilst tormenting me."

"Try and stop me, if you must," Severus replied, draining his glass. "Draco, another if you will," he said, handing the younger Malfoy his glass. "And fix your father another also, he's over there sputtering like a wet hen and can use it."

Doing as he was bid, Draco walked over to the drink cart, laughing again when he heard his godfather mutter wet hen underneath his breath, Lucius swearing in reply.
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Accidental Blood Bond