Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Polyjuice	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 32326 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from J K Rowling's fantastic books or films, I'm just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so

Chapter List
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A/N: As ever a big thank you to my excellent beta, Mamacita for excellent punctuation (unlike mine which is completely rubbish!)
Hilda Malfoy — welcome aboard. Yes, Lucius is selfish, but let’s face it that’s why we all love him! *LOL* What can I say . . . poor Ron!
Werewolfhime – thanks for sticking with it. I agree obsessed Lucius is hot . . . erm, actually Lucius is just hot anyway! And don’t you worry about Lucius — he’s always got a plan up his sleeve.
As I said . . . poor Ron! *LOL*
Ginnylovesharry07 - gotta love a mischevious Lucius . . . well, I do anyway!
Elphaba - And Lucius has such a delicious mind, too! *LOL*

Hermione almost ripped off her clothes as soon as she entered her room, so desperate was she to get in the shower. All she could smell was Ron, that masculine scent she had always found so attractive and yet now was threatening to make her heave.
Turning on the shower as hot as she could stand it, she soaped herself over and over again, still crying, her tears mixing with the water as it washed away down the drain, not noticing how red her skin was becoming as she scrubbed and scrubbed at it. The smell of him was still there, still in her nose, even though it wasn’t possible; she had almost removed a layer of skin with her cleaning. And still, she couldn’t stop crying.
Finally, Hermione left the shower, wrapped herself in her thick white bathrobe, and threw herself onto the bed where she lay in tears, now silent and thick rather than the wracking sobs of earlier, her mind replaying the events of the evening. For a few minutes, she remembered the enjoyment she had felt as Ron made love to her, how much he had given her, the feeling of being loved so completely, and a warm feeling began to wash over her. But then came that whispered phrase, ‘You felt so good, so perfect, even for a Mudblood,’ and all her good feelings disappeared to be replaced by anger and sorrow.
Ron had been her friend for many years and never had he ever called her that awful name. He had even ended up puking up slugs after he had tried to hex Malfoy with his broken wand for using the term in their second year and had told Harry it was disgusting that people would even think, let alone say such a thing. And yet he himself had said it — not even in anger during a fight, but after the most intimate moment of their lives together. Just when she would happily have given herself to him for the rest of their lives, he had shattered that brilliant moment with one word.
Obviously, he had tried to pretend he hadn’t said it, but Hermione knew she hadn’t misheard. After all his protestations that all Pure-bloods weren’t bad, Ron had shown himself to be in the same league as the Malfoys. She wondered what his parents would say if she told them or the rest of his family, but she knew she would never say anything to them.
Doing that would mean explaining what she and Ron had been doing in the Room of Requirement, and Hermione definitely didn’t want anyone to know she had been stupid enough to fall for his patter and surrender herself to him. She wished now that she hadn’t been so eager to be with him that she had given away her virginity with so little thought. But how could she have known what he was really like?
But you did know, Hermione told herself. Remember when Ron told you the pain wouldn’t last — you knew then that he had been with other women. Perhaps you should have known you were just the latest rather than ‘the One’, as you so desperately wanted to be. Maybe you should have realised he wasn’t everything you’ve always thought him to be.
Miserably she forced herself off the bed to find and change into her pyjamas, wanting only to sleep, to blot the terrible evening from her mind forever. She hoped that sleep wouldn’t be long in coming, but she had a horrible feeling she wouldn’t be able to sleep. In fact, the way she felt now she wondered if she would ever be able to sleep again.

As she had suspected, Hermione had experienced a dreadful night — little sleep cut with awful nightmares that made her wake, crying with frustration. She was tired and miserable and didn’t want to leave her room but knew she had no choice. Professors McGonagall and Snape wouldn’t understand why she needed to keep to herself, and there was no way she could explain it to either of them.
She looked at herself in the mirror as she dressed. Gods, she looked awful. The lack of sleep was noticeable in her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes, and worse still, this morning she was sore, a nagging reminder of what had occurred the night before. After checking to make sure her uniform was perfect, Hermione headed for the door, knowing that she was running late this morning.
She was the only one in the common room, everyone else had obviously already gone to breakfast, so she quickly made her way down to the Great Hall, hoping she wouldn’t be the last person in as it would put her under even more scrutiny that she didn’t need right now. Luckily there were still a few people drifting in as she entered, and she slid into her seat wishing that she wasn’t facing Ron. She couldn’t bear to even look at him this morning.
‘Are you okay, Hermione?’ Harry asked in concern. ‘We were worried about you last night.’
Hermione looked at him, trying not to cry. He really did look worried about her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron looking embarrassed, keeping his head down and not looking at her. Good, he felt bad — but that didn’t mean she would forgive him. She could never forgive him for what he had done to her.
‘I’ve felt better,’ she admitted a little coldly, purposely not looking at Ron. ‘I didn’t have a very good night’s sleep, either, so that hasn’t helped my mood much.’ She speared a sausage with her fork and put it on her plate, then took another.
‘Where were you?’ Harry asked. ‘You were gone for so long.’
Hermione sighed. ‘Harry, please. I don’t want to talk about it.’ She buttered two slices of bread and carefully cut her sausages, laying them precisely on one slice before adding the second.
Harry noted the warning in her voice and decided to drop it. He knew Hermione would talk to him when she was ready and not before; there was no point in angering her by trying to push her into discussing whatever was bothering her. It was clear that she wasn’t very happy with Ron, so perhaps it was about them leaving her in the Library after all.
Hermione cut her sandwich into precise triangles and poured a glass of pumpkin juice, looking up as the post owls entered the room. An owl landed next to her with her copy of the Daily Prophet and she dug in her pocket for some change, cursing as she remembered she had left all her money upstairs.
‘Here,’ Ron said gruffly, tossing a coin towards her. She grudgingly accepted it and paid the bird, feeding it a piece of her sausage before it flew off.
‘I’ll give it back to you later,’ she said stiffly.
‘No need. It’s only a few Sickles, after all,’ Ron said quietly, his face pale and drawn.
Hermione couldn’t look at him. Instead, she opened her paper and hid behind it, trying to immerse herself in the news but she was unable to concentrate. She couldn’t eat, either. The few mouthfuls of her sandwich that she had managed to force down had made her nauseous. She needed to be away from Ron. She folded the paper and stood.
‘I’m not hungry,’ she told Harry, quite clearly ignoring Ron. ‘I’ll see you later.’
She marched out of the Great Hall and headed out of the castle, knowing that her first lesson of the day was Herbology. Perhaps the fresh air would stop her from feeling sick.
Back in the Great Hall Harry looked at Ron. He had been through these lovers tiffs many times over the years. He just wished the couple would admit their feelings for each other and finally get together then his life would be a damn sight easier. He already had a headache coming, knowing he was going to be torn between his two friends, both of whom would expect his full support.
‘Perhaps you should talk to her, Ron.’
‘Why? I haven’t done anything.’
‘Well, she’s obviously upset with you for some reason. Perhaps if you apologised for last night . . . .’
‘Why should I apologise? We had a game of chess — big deal. She must have known where we were. She could have come to find us. I have no idea why I’m in her bad books today, Harry, but I’m not apologising.’ Ron’s face was set in a stubborn look.
Harry sighed. There was no point in pushing Ron, either. He was every bit as stubborn as Hermione when he set his mind to it. There was nothing to do but just ride it out and wait for the pair to make up. They always did eventually.
Harry stood and picked up his book bag.
‘Come on, we’d better get to Divination,’ he said gloomily. ‘Have we got Trelawney or Firenze today?’
‘Firenze, I think,’ Ron replied grumpily.
‘Good. At least I won’t get told I’m going to die, then,’ Harry said, and he headed toward the door.
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Polyjuice