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

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The past few days were stuff of nightmares. It was like everyone took crazy pills. Her department had heard rumors that the Minister was planning on downsizing half the departments if they didn’t have five accepted projects at the end of the year. Many of her people wanted to quit and go on to more successful departments. It took everything from her to convince her employees to stay, though she lost five good people out of her twenty people team. She could sense unrest echoing through the remaining employees. They probably thought she couldn’t even keep people on, much least accomplishing their shared assignments.

If that wasn’t bad enough, her financial backers of her past endeavors had suddenly pulled out, claiming their money was already stretched thin. That was pure hippogriff dung. Hermione knew that they didn’t want to invest into “bad press” projects. Now, other investors were wary of even giving her a sickle.

Everything started ever since Lucius visited her office.

He brought a curse upon her, she knew he had. He made everything just go downhill in her life. All because he wanted to have sex with her! Why do wizards always think with their little head? Hermione should have hexed him right out of her office that morning, before he even spoke. That would kill all his sexual interest in her.

Hermione didn’t tell anyone else about that morning expect for Ginny. Her friend swore to not breathe a word to a soul. Hermione trusted her to keep her word but, something about Ginny that was off. It might be a guilty pleasure to fantasy about a bad boy yet; Lucius was the one who nearly killed her with Tom Riddle’s diary. Why in Merlin’s beard would Ginny ever think of Lucius other than scum? Something was not right.

It wasn’t like Hermione had time to ponder that mystery, it would have to wait. She had a lunch date with a potential investor, and if she played her cards right, would give her nearly half of her projected money she would need to save the werewolves. That would, in her mind, bring back or gain more investors.

Raul Guerra was the most sought out investor across the wizarding world. Every time he backed up a failing department, within a year, it skyrocketed to one of the main departments in the whole Ministry. Expect he was hard to convince to invest. He was tight with his money like a poor person was. But, Hermione had to do anything to save her project and keep her team employed. Even if she had to pander and ass kiss to get it.

Hermione check herself out in the mirror, making sure everything was perfect. She had chosen to wear a muggle suit, bought from a few years ago. She had outgrown it since then, as the sleeves were three inches too short for her. The dull sickle grey color was almost washed out and it pillowed near the elbows. The one button that kept her jacket together was loose, over worn by the many times she wore it. The pants were too big on her, she had to grab one of Harry’s ugly brown belt (he left it one night) to keep them up. Her midnight black shirt looked too big on her, more a man’s shirt then a woman’s.

Hermione sighed, almost regretting her chosen field. She cared for the welfare of house-elves and the unfortunate creatures deeply but, being on the last totem pole of the Ministry, didn’t bring in the cash. She would have to let her own personal charms and her work speak for her actions rather her outfit.

The witch struggled with her hair, an endeavor that would never bring successful fruit. It had dulled down to slight fuzz over the years but, it was a pain to style it. She settled, at last, with pulling back the curtain she called her hair with a few bobby pins, baring her ears and letting her hair fall down her back.

She turned on the spot and Apparition from her shared apartment. Hermione stumbled, clutching onto the wall nearby as her stomach twisted and turned. Years after mastering it, she always felt queasy on an empty stomach. She was glad that she wanted to have a lunch meeting.

Her low heels click on the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley, searching for the restaurant. She had insisted that her investor find the restaurant, mostly because it made him feel special and also because Hermione didn’t really bother with the restaurant along food district, she preferred cooking at home. Turning down the street, her eyes rounded as saucers looking up at the restaurant in question.

L’Jean, a French wizarding restaurant was more of a museum rather a place where people dined. Three stories tall, the sandstone building rose into the sky, balconies with tables sprouting out like buds along the exterior wall. The balconies were held up by columns, ivy stretched around the girth of the white stone. Hagrid size French glass windows were in perfect order, separated by a window box full of white roses. Dark wooden double doors opened for the few people that climbed the white stairs. The name was glistening in gold and silver, curved in elegant formation.

Hermione grabbed the iron railing, climbing up the steep stairs, the witch made it to the doors. The doors creaked and split open, letting her passage. As she stepped inside, a person came out of thin air. It was a tall man, his sleek black hair (which was greased up in gel), was the same color as his suit and just as tailored.

His beady eyes bore into hers, looking her up and down like a man picking out his next pig to slaughter. “Reservation?” His voice was crisp, only have a minimal French accent.

Hermione swallowed, a tight bud had form making it hard to speak. “I…I have a lunch appointment with Raul Guerra.”

His thin mustache twitched, “Monsieur Guerra is busy with another guest. I have him down for one guest. Not two.”

Hermione felt her face drain of color, which didn’t help the glare that came from the maître d'. That was not part of the plan. Craning her head around the French man, she could see her investor and department’s savior just through the glass of the next set of doors. He was talking to someone else, laughing in glee but, due to the tall build of the maître d', Hermione couldn’t see who he was chatting with.

“Please, tell him that Hermione Granger is here to see him.” She pleaded, hoping that dropping her name would produce something.

The maître d’ could not care less. At last, he felt pity for her or annoyance at her presence; he turned and walked through the door. Hermione picked up her feet and followed the uptight host towards the table. She had to halt behind the host because he stopped short of the table, nearly letting her collide with him.

“Monsieur Guerra, there is a woman here to see you. A Miss Hermione Granger. Should I send her off or get a chair for her?”

Raul Guerra stopped his conversation, looked at the maître d' before craning his head around him. His large face crumpled into a frown, “Lucas, it is not polite to speak of a woman like that…and not while she is behind you!”

The maître d' turned around sharply, his beady rounds the size of galleons. He had no idea that she was behind him. Hermione couldn’t suppress the superior smirk, seeing the haughty host color in embarrassment.

“I...I am incredibly sorry, ma’am. Shall I fetch you a glass of wine…on the house?” He was now hospitable, mostly because Raul Guerra could buy out L’Jean and turn him out.

“That would be lovely, Lucas.”

The man scurried away. Raul Guerra pushed himself out of the booth, his rounded belly jiggling by the movement. He could easily stand over her by a foot and a half. His dark blue suit was free of his jacket, taking on a black vest over his much tailored Oxford suit. His pepper colored hair was thinning at the top but, did little to distract Hermione from noticing the large, rounded nose he sported in the middle of his face. His red cheeks, either caused by his weight or laughter, were as well as wine.

“Hermione Granger I presume?” His voice held superiority yet familiarity at the same time.

She held out her hand, “It is a pleasure to-”

His large hand cupped hers in a vice grip, shaking her arm nearly out of her socket. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Granger. I have heard all about you. You must be brilliant to be Head of your own department. I have heard most of your triumphs and pitfalls from my friend here.”

“Friend?”

Hermione turned her head slowly to the left, her eyes widening in an instant. There, sitting in the booth was the worst omen of her life. Dressed in a dark gray and forest green suit, was the bane of her existence at the moment. Lucius smirked, his lips curling up in greeting, his silver eyes catching the light from the candle.

“Good afternoon, Miss Granger,” he spoke slowly, humor in his voice. He took still outstretched hand and brought it closer to him. Her breath caught as his warm lips pressed against her knuckles. Hermione’s mind was transported to the all too realistic dream she had before.

“M-Mister Malfoy…” her voice was low, her heart throbbing in her chest.

Raul Guerra’s mouth cracked into a smile that could swallow her whole head. “Please, sit down and join us.”

Raul Guerra helped her slide in the booth, leaving her trapped between the oversized man and Lucius Malfoy. She had no idea which was worst. At that moment, Lucas came back and placed a glass of red wine in front of her.

“M-may I have a menu, please?” Hermione kept her eyes trained on Lucas, finding the lesser of the evils at the moment.

Lucas took one movement towards fetching the menu before a cool voice interjected.

“She can share with me, Lucas.” Lucius spoke, his eyebrow arched as if asking if Lucas want to disagree.

“Of course, Monsieur Malfoy.” And with that, Lucas had fled.

Raul Guerra chuckled to himself, “Ever the frightening creature, Lucius.”

“Frightening would entail that I am hideous, Raul. And I am far from having those appearances.”

Hermione snorted into her wine, her eyes rolling at the ridiculous idea.

“Are you alright, Miss Granger?” Raul question, his piercing eyes on her.

Hermione remembered that this was a business meeting and she needed to act professional. She placed the glass back down, righting her posture. “I’m sorry, Mr. Guerra, the wine’s aroma got to me. It is very exquisite.”

He seemed to buy her throw away lie. “I’m sure you are not use to such dining, Miss Granger.”

Hermione muster up a half smile, it might have sounded like an innocent comment from Raul Guerra but it did sting her in the wrong places. Being in this place, she truly felt out of place. It would take her five years to even afford one item off the menu.

“Now,” Raul Guerra opened up his menu, “Let us get something to eat, shall we?”

“Miss Granger.” Lucius voice cool over her ears as he inched himself closer to the witch. In his hand was the leather bound menu, he extended it towards her. “Ladies first…”

Hermione ignore the pureblood and focus her attention on the large man on her other side. “Mr. Guerra, not to be rude but…I thought that lunch was supposed to be between me and you not…Mr. Malfoy here.” She had no idea how she could even think and at least conduct business with the pureblood so near her.

Raul Guerra paused, looking up from his menu, looking a bit disappointed at being taken away from the food. His equally large eyes darted between the witch and Lucius before his lips turn into a small smile for a man of his size. “I trust Lucius for his input. He has helped me narrowed down some investment choices in my life, and all them successful. Let us hope you your department becomes one of them.” He might look cheery and warm but, his tone was putting a stop to her complaints. “Now, let’s order. I am famished.”

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Hermione circled her last piece of filet mignon on her plate, letting the meat soak up the left over the thick sauce. The muggleborn drew runes with the sauce, as her ears tune out the laughter between the two men beside her. When Raul Guerra’s laughter barked sharply in the air, her eyes lifted up from her plate. The large man was nearly in tears at what Lucius said, who smile coolly and was calm as ever.

“Well, I have never experienced Paris like that Lucius! I swear you will be the death of me.” Raul Guerra chugged down his fifth glass of wine. Consuming that much alcohol left his cheeks as red as her House’s color.

Lucius smirked, “It is a gift, Raul. Miss Granger, have you ever been to Paris?”

Ever since the food arrived, Raul Guerra completely ignored her but; Lucius kept bringing her into conversation when she was not eating. She mustered up the last bit of energy to smile, “I went to Paris for a summer before my second year with my family.”

“Your parents are muggles, right?” Raul Guerra asked, letting Lucas refill his sixth glass.

Hermione smile droop a bit, it was like he was in question about her heritage. “Yes, they are muggles. They are dentists.”

Raul Guerra gave out an unimpressed grunt. “Still an amazement muggles can get magic. It is very interesting feat. Knowing that there are people out there with not a drop of magic in blood suddenly having a magical child. Lucius, has that Ministry of yours even gained a grasp on that strange behavior?”

“No, not yet.” Lucius said simply.

Hermione cleared her throat, drawing the attention to her once again. She had been here for over two hours and she was no closer to getting her investment from when she first entered the restaurant. “Sir, if you don’t mine me saying; but, may we discuss my proposal?” She fetched her thick folder from her purse, handing it over towards the overweight wizard. “I would love it if you invest in the future.”

Raul Guerra shook his head, which made his oversized frame shake with it, wine from his glass splashed onto the table and even on her clothes. “No need. Your department just does not have the qualifications to completely change the Ministry’s views on those flea bags. Give it up, Miss Granger. Your intentions are…noble but nobility is not enough to get laws changed. Try again in a few years.”

“Mr. Guerra, please! If you can only look at my-”

“I would lose money before even making back a sickle. Ask someone else.”

Hermione sat back in her seat, putting her folder back in her purse. The muggle born looked between the two wizards before drawing in a deep breath. “Excuse me gentlemen…I need to use the powder room.”

Hermione tried to inch towards Raul Guerra but Lucius slipped out the booth with ease. The muggleborn had no choice but get out his way. She grabbed the edge of the booth to heave herself out, having difficulties with the tight table. Lucius grabbed her right hand and eased her out, his cool fingers wrapped hers.

“Miss Granger,” He said, helping her to her feet.

Hermione stared up at those silver eyes, seeing one spark of an emotion she was sicken to see. “Mr. Malfoy,” she yanked her hand away. “I will be back gentlemen.”

Hermione breezed through the tables towards the ladies room. The large room, filled with a hallway of doors to private toilets had a smaller lounge inside. She checked if anyone was occupying the room. She was alone, which is what she wanted. Hermione casted a heavy silencing ward over the fancy bathroom.

She drew out her wand and swished violently it in the air. The large, floor length mirror exploded into a thousand little pieces, falling into the rich carpet. Hermione screamed as everything around her that could be broken, became nothing but scraps of wood, stone, and glass. When everything around was demolished, when the toilets were leveled, Hermione’s knees buckle and she fell down on the floor.

She panted, drawing her arm over her eyes. It was over. Years of hard work, sleepless nights, crafting the perfect plan, time spent pouring over books, the time wasted by her and her loyal staff. For nothing. All because some racist wizard, who was too drunk to even walk, didn’t want to give her a sickle.

She screamed at the top of her lungs, the last of her magic shook the walls, until she was left hoarse. Hermione let her arm dropped; emotions were struggling to bubble to the surface. She had no idea if she should feel anger, sadness, mad, or slip in depression. Her body and mind wanted to dive deep into those dark emotions, even her heart felt as heavy as a dragon’s egg.

“Damn it,” Tears were overwhelming, prickling her vision until it became blurry. “Damn it to fucking hell.”

“I’m not sure if I should be curious as to why you are on the floor or enjoy the view.” A voice broke through her dark mood.

Hermione sat up in a flash, her wand drawn towards the new voice. Leaning against the door frame, Lucius watched her like a cat watching its prey, not sure if he wanted to play with her or sink his fangs into her body.

The pureblood sighed, “Must we always meet with your wand pointed at me, Hermione?”

“What do you want?” Hermione growled, she might be exhausted from her chaotic expelling of magic but, she could singe off his eyebrows. He would be perfect choice as someone she could let out her frustrations out on.

Lucius enter the bathroom, closing the door behind him, virtually blocking her only escape. His silver eyes passed over the room, arching his eyebrow in amazement. “I came to check on you. I was worried.”

Hermione snorted out loud; the first (close to it) positive emotion she had felt since she came into this blasted restaurant. “Yeah, right. And I am Morgana’s long lost daughter. I know what you came here to do. You wanted to gloat. See the poor, miserable, stupid, and naïve muggleborn crumple so you can get your kicks.”

The pureblood sighed, dropping his ever cool mask enough to see some real emotion. There it was again. That disgusting and sickening look on his face that made Hermione cringed. Pity.

“Must you be so harsh with me, Hermione?” he asked like a child wanting forgiveness. “We have both grown up since five years. Can we at least be civil?”

Hermione grabbed onto only remaining piece of furniture and lifted herself up to her feet. “We can be civil once you go back into time and not become a Death Eater. That could work.”

The pureblood beg and whine method was not working on her. Lucius started to look cross, his eyes narrowing. Now, that was the man she knew. “I have paid for my crimes already,” he hissed out. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want you out of my life. Ever since that day you…you tried to bribe me to sleep with you, I have been in misery. Get over it, I will never sleep with you. Ever.”

Her words floored him, his silver eyes widening like saucers. He looked as if the rug was yanked out from under him. “Come again? I don’t understand what you are saying, Hermione.”

Hermione huffed; a strand of hair flew up from her face. “I. Am. Not. Going. To. Fuck. You.” She snapped at the pureblood as she felt the urge to kill was rising.

Lucius stood there, silent as a statue. Finally, the pureblood let out a deep chuckle which hit Hermione right in the core. “I wasn’t asking you for sex, Hermione! I have standards.”

Hermione had no idea to be relieved, or hurt. It was her turn for the rug to be pulled right under her. The witch rake through her brain, trying to think back to the morning and if there was any clue to actual sex being brought up by Lucius. Her mind came back as fuzzy as old television.

“What? But, you said you had urges…and you wanted my body…” Hermione knew she heard him say those things.

Lucius lips tease a smile at her expense. Hermione felt her face flush with embarrassment as his eyes sparkled in mirth at her. “Hermione…Hermione…my dear, dear Hermione…” he voice was playful. “You are an attractive woman, as I have said before. You are beautiful in both physical beauty and your mind is a gorgeous thing that needs to be cherished. However, that’s not what I meant at all. One thing I can stand firm in my convictions is that I don’t ever want to come between a couple in love. You are in love with Ronald, yes?”

Hermione face color turned a deeper red. “Of…of course I do.”

Lucius walked over to her, his steps are short despite his long legs. The pureblood stood in front of her, looking down at her with his piercing eyes. Hermione could smell the rich aroma of his cologne, leather and whiskey, from the small distance between them. It was not overwhelming unlike Ron and Harry’s body sprays, which left her nose wiggling at the strong smell. Whatever he was wearing was more subtle and easy on her.

“I’m confused…What do you want from me?” Hermione asked, she could hear the uncertainly in her voice. She hated being confused and out of the loop.

His hand came out of nowhere and ran a long finger down her cheek. Hermione’s breath caught as his digit circled its way down her neck, stopping at her collarbone. He looked like he was wondering what to do next. The man who was known to be three steps ahead, had no idea what to do with her? Lucius’s finger rested against her skin for a while, letting the heat transfer to her.

“I will be blunt with you, Hermione,” his eyes darted back to stare into hers. “You are terrible at conducting business and getting investors. You don’t try to engage the client straight out, you just let Raul walk over you. Why? Because you wanted to kiss up to him? That won’t work. You need to be firm with your clients and investors, come out of the gate with firm convictions. No doubt the past investors you manage to get were based on your name sake or connections. It would be hard to deny one of the people who saved the wizarding world. However, that only lasts so long before the thing you fell back on becomes dull and useless.

“What I want from you is mold you into the perfect department Head I know you can be. You have the skills and the potential but, you need to step up and take charge. I want to be your mentor. ”

“In return? What do you get?”

“Other than pride and acknowledgement that I have apprenticed the next leading department, I want you to be at my side at all Ministry events. It is embarrassing to show up to a function without someone on your arm. I think you can understand how that feels, yes?”

Hermione swallowed back a lump, turning her eyes to the ground. However, Lucius didn’t let her look at the nice carpet for so long. He cupped her chin, his fingers were soft on her chin but his grip was forceful, turning her head back up. “First lesson, never look at the ground with remorse, it begs people to pity you. Be confident with yourself. Only act like that if you know people will throw their support on you.”

The witch took a deep breath, looking back at his face. “You want me to be your date to events?”

“Yes,” Lucius nodded his head, before a small smirk appeared on his face. “It does help my reputation that I manage to snag a date with the lovely Hermione Granger.”

“I…I don’t know…It seems tempting but, I want to help my department on my own.” Hermione knew that if she managed to save the werewolves, let them be treated better, then she can do so much more. Maybe even make sure werewolves got real jobs, not piss poor ones.

Lucius let go of her chin, dropping his arm at his side. “I understand your concerns. It does seem like having a golden egg drop on your lap, doesn’t it?” She nodded. “I will give you some time to think it over. However, I am an impatient man so; I don’t hear from you in three days, I will give up.”

“Alright,” Hermione sucked in a needed breath of air when he pulled away from her. He has always left her feeling breathless when he got too close to her.

“First things first,” he took out his wand and waved and twirled it in the air. Everything that was broken, demolished, destroyed moved through the air until everything was in right order. It was if Hermione never destroyed the whole place. Even her clothes were clean of the wine stain. Once everything was done, he pocketed his wand and smirked at her. “Don’t want my future apprentice to be billed with the repairs.”

Lucius bowed, “I hope to see you again, Miss Granger.” He spoke in a calm voice.

Hermione watched the confusing pureblood turn and walk out of the ladies room, walking away like he was confident in each step, there was nothing that could trample him over. As she soon found herself alone again, she couldn’t believe what just occurred. She was given a key to become stronger in her department and become great. Lucius only, innocently, wanted to mold her to a good department. It sounded good, simple, and clean cut, but she could not let one feeling drop.

How strangely disappointed she was that he didn’t want her for sex.

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Author’s Note: Could this be as innocent as it seems or does someone have other ideas? Yes, there will be sex but…not for a while. Please don’t forget to rate and review!
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A Simple Proposal