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Some Blond Fool	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 46886 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Author�s Note:� Once again thanks for all the reviews!� It�s amazing how differently everyone
interpreted last chapter.� All questions
are answered in this one.� Keep in mind
that I know what I have crafted is way out there and at times hard to believe,
to the point that I considered not even posting it, but it seems that people
really enjoy it.� My rationale for Lucius is this: if you were a person whose prime occupation
was taken away and you had nine long years before you got it back, you would be
extremely conflicted and bored.� I think
six years is enough time for Lucius to come to terms
with the fact that there is something other than magic and to get over himself
enough that he can foray into the many distractions of the muggle
world.� I did state that he�s been out of
the public spotlight for 3 years since the divorce, so operating under the
knowledge that no one is looking, I think he would feel more freedom to do
things he wouldn�t normally do.� Plus, I
just love football/soccer.� On a less fun
note, I have been spoiling you all with my fast updates.� This fic is very
easy to write and I enjoy it, but I am in graduate school and pretty soon the crap
is going to be hitting the metaphorical fan.�
My pace will have to slow down.� I�m
just making you aware that by next week the update schedule will probably suffer.� Leave me encouragement!

�� Hermione�s first thought was of why
he had chosen to use their real names; whatever anonymity he�d sought was blown
with outlandish names like theirs.� She
would have thought he�d love making up the absolute worst names possible and
then using them relentlessly.� However,
she had to admit that �Hermione� was not an easy name to normalize.� And the look that had flashed in his eyes �
perhaps scheming had, for a moment, been replaced by blunt realization and his
mouth worked on its own.

�� His teammate, the balding, slightly
overweight man, laughed and shook their hands.�
�Good strong names, those!� Mum
into Shakespeare, Hermione?�

�� She nodded; her mother had confessed
as much when she was nine years old.

�� What�s your excuse, Luc?�

�� I was overly optimistic,� Lucius said.� �Draco means dragon.� He
has yet to grow wings�but he may have sprouted horns while I wasn�t
looking.�� Neither of them missed the
edge in his voice.� The other man laughed
and walked away, shaking his head.

�� They were both a little wrong-footed
by Lucius�s veiled reaction.� They had not walked onto the pitch arm in
arm, had been careful to stay a few inches away from one another; still he knew
and apparently he wasn�t happy about it.�
Hermione was beginning to think she couldn�t hide anything from him.�

�� Her brain restarted suddenly.� Why had she gone to his flat?� To see him, not Draco.� And
what had she intended on doing once there?�
She had no bloody idea.� If he had
been there, would she have�would she have given herself to him instead?� Would she be
laying in post-coital bliss with Lucius, rather than
standing in muffled ambiguity with Draco?� Had she only gone to seek sexual comfort, and
taken it from whoever was there?

�� She didn�t know.� She didn�t know the answer to any of it.� Draco had said she
would fall to Lucius�s charm but he had done little
to charm her, other than be his enigmatic self.�
And she had thought it was all a game to him, a fun exercise in sabotage
and revenge, but this reaction was one of�hurt?

�� Father�� Draco
said.� Lucius
cut him off.

�� Later.� I�ve got a match to win.�� He dropped the water bottle and jogged away
from them.

�� She exchanged a look with Draco.� He looked
troubled, but not half as troubled as she felt.�
If she was going to be a reckless, horny woman, spiraling in the
confusion of her divorce, Lucius deserved her
attention more.� He had been there.� He knew what it felt like.� He had faced both Ginny and Harry like a
weathered champion.� And, she realized,
he had done it for her.� Not for any plot, not for any promise of
revenge or redemption � for her.� And
what had Draco done?�
Draco had spouted a few words on a screen,
appeared when she was most vulnerable, and while he had certainly performed
well and made her feel incredible, that was all.� There was no friendship between them, not
yet.� There was only physical attraction
that she had acted on much too thoughtlessly.

�� Ron�s words echoed in her head.� He
knows you�re vulnerable and is trying to take advantage of that.� Oh, she wanted to believe that it wasn�t
true, that Draco really had changed, but the seed of
doubt was there now.� But the way he
looked at her�the way he had touched her�Hermione shook her head.� She would sort this out later.� For now Draco had
the benefit of the doubt.

�� On the field Lucius
had received the ball once more, but he did not move forward with it.� He was still, poised, and then in a quick
second he turned and launched a wicked kick at a bush near the sidelines.� Several of the men on the field began to shout, annoyed at his giveaway, but then a flash and a
pained yelp erupted from the bush.� A man
tumbled out of it.� A
man with a camera.

�� The field went quiet.� Lucius moved
quickly to stand over the paparazzo and Hermione could tell from the set of his
back that he was angry.� The football had
shattered the flashbulb of the man�s camera, but not before he got a picture of
it coming at him.

�� Publish that one, will you?� Lucius said coldly.

�� Hey, Malloy, you
famous or something?� one of the men yelled, only half-joking.

�� In all the wrong circles,� he
responded, still glacial.� �And for all the wrong reasons.�

�� The cameraman scrambled to his feet
and tried to stare Lucius down, but he might as well
have been facing a great white shark that smelled blood.� He wilted.�
Lucius made to take a step forward, a quick,
sudden, threatening movement, and the intruder flinched and stumbled over his
own feet.� He fell back to the ground in
an undignified heap.

�� Lucius
turned and walked away.� The men on the
field were roaring with laughter, appreciating his thorough ownership of the
paparazzo.� Lucius
did not share their mirth.� The
paparazzo, that same man with mud-brown hair, stood up and ran.

�� Oi,
Malloy, use that magic foot!�� Someone
tossed him another football.� He caught
it but shook his head.

�� Come on!� several of them prompted.

�� Fifty pounds if you hit him!�
another shouted.

�� Lucius
rolled his eyes.� �I have a much higher
asking price.�� But he turned and set the
football on the ground, placing it on a level spot.� He took four steps back, squinted at the
retreating man, and kicked.

�� The ball soared high and it seemed
to take a long time to drift downwards, but his aim was true.� It arced in a graceful parabola and landed
directly on the fleeing cameraman�s head.�
The men on the field and most of the people on the sidelines burst into
laughter as he went down as suddenly and violently as if he�d been shot.

�� Oh, an aim to make Becks jealous!� his friendly teammate exclaimed as he
patted Lucius on the back.� �You�re something, Malloy.�

�� Yes,� he said, suddenly looking
tired, �something else.� �

�� You were serious when you said he
liked me,� Hermione said.� They were some
distance from the pitch now, waiting in the dusk as the men packed up.

�� Of course I was.� Couldn�t you tell?� Draco
asked.

�� No.�
I�he�� she closed her eyes and sighed.�
�And you just disregarded it?� Had
no problem breezing in and plucking me away?�

�� It was Draco�s
turn to close his eyes and sigh.� �You
told me that I shouldn�t yield you to another man.� You see how women react to my father.� He can have anyone he wants.�� Draco lifted her
chin gently.� �He can�t have you.�

�� Tears pricked her eyes.� Draco was trying to
please her, doing his best to acquiesce to her wishes in the new and terrifying
arena of love, and without realizing it she had pitted him against his
father.� She hadn�t meant to do it.� She didn�t think Lucius
really wanted her.� Yes, he�d kissed her
and well at that, but she thought it was because she was a challenge, a new and
interesting experiment.� Oh, what had she
done?

�� You like him, too,� Draco said softly.�
He sighed and brushed a tear from her cheek.� �You like us both.�

�� She nodded and the tears came
unbidden, welling up from some place she couldn�t identify.

�� We�re really blundering things up
for you, aren�t we.�

�� She nodded again.� He held her tentatively, offering a broad
shoulder to rest her cheek upon.� She
knew without asking that they were looking in the same direction.� They were both looking at Lucius.� He was on the other side of the field,
retrieving Oberon from the throng of his teammate�s children that he�d
entrusted him to.�

�� He deserves someone like you,� Draco said.� �Smart and pretty and vivacious.�

�� Hermione sniffled.� �So do you.�

�� His chin brushed her hair as he
nodded.� �And there�s the rub.�

�� Lucius had
come over to them, but only to ask them to take Oberon home.� He was, he informed them, going to the pub
with Tony and the team.� He told them not
to wait up and not to worry and really, he was fine with things, he was, and
he�d see them later.� Neither of them
bought it.

�� They walked back toward his flat
quietly, moving a bit slow because Oberon had been tired out by the children.

�� Everything else aside, Hermione, I
do have something to tell you,� Draco said at last,
somber.

�� About Ron and Mykonos?�

�� He nodded.� She sighed heavily.� If she was going to deal with more emotional
turmoil, it might as well all be heaped into one.

�� What did you find out?�

�� He did sleep with that woman, but
he was set up.� The woman was paid by Skeeter and given a Drowsy Draught to use on him.� I spoke to her myself.� She said she needed the money and didn�t know
Ron was married, or else she wouldn�t have done it.� She�ll testify against Skeeter
if we ask her to.�

�� I wish I was more surprised by
that,� Hermione remarked into the large silence.

�� Aren�t you happy?�

�� No, because Ron
wants to divorce me anyway.�

�� Draco was
stunned.� �I�he does?�

�� She turned to him.� �You didn�t know?�� Draco shook his
head.� �I signed the papers yesterday.�

�� Merlin,� Draco
breathed.� �What is wrong with him?� I�damn it!�

�� What?�

�� The only reason I was so forward
today was because I was sure you�d reconcile with Weasley
once I told you the news.� I was sure I�d
never have another chance.�

�� What kind of twisted logic is
that?!� she demanded.� �Withholding
information and sleeping with me before you give me back to my husband?�� Miraculously, she didn�t feel like she wanted
to rip his head off.� Anger was sparked, yes,
but she recognized with a casual resignation that when one chose to deal with
snakes, one sometimes got bitten.

�� I don�t know,� he cringed.� �The kind you use when you like someone so
much it�s painful and don�t know what the hell to do
about it.�

�� Oh, Draco,�
Hermione sighed.� His honesty decimated
all her anger.� Again that problem with
staying angry; evidently it was genetic.�
What a fucking mess.� �I guess I
should owl Ron and tell him.� He�ll want
to know.� He won�t come
running back to me and even if he did I wouldn�t take him, but he�ll be angry
and probably willing to testify.�� She
looked down at her feet.� �If he ever gets over the fact that I�m with a Malfoy.�

�� You wouldn�t be if he got his head
out of his arse,� Draco
muttered.� �His loss.�

�� I�m beginning to regret ever going
to that pub,� Hermione said a minute later, as they turned onto Lucius�s block.� �You
never would have had your miraculous epiphany and none of this would be
happening.�

�� Draco
chuckled.� �If I�m being honest, I may as
well tell you.� That epiphany happened a
long time ago.�

�� She looked up sharply.� �When?�

�� Seventh year.� The end of the war.�� He shook his head. ��You were like�Circe herself on that
battlefield.� After that I didn�t see
blood anymore, Hermione, I only saw magic.��

�� They were at Lucius�s
door now and they stood, his words sinking in to her.� He handed her Oberon�s leash and the key to
the door.

�� I had better go.� Something tells me Weasley
won�t want to testify for exactly the reason you mentioned, and the word of one
Greek hooker won�t put Skeeter away,� he sighed.� He leaned down and brushed a kiss on her
forehead.� �I want you to take your time
and choose, Hermione.� If it�s my father
you like best, then�� he struggled for words, �I won�t be happy, and it will be
difficult, but I�ll deal with it.� What�s
important is not how I feel, but how you feel.�
And if he makes you happy�I want you to be with him.�

�� Draco--�

�� But don�t forget about me while I�m
gone.� Don�t�Merlin, I�m rubbish at
this.�

�� She smiled through another impending
round of tears.� She stood on her tiptoes
and brushed a kiss to his forehead.� Lucius had faced Harry and Ginny for her, it was true, but Draco had gone out of his way to try to rescue her marriage
and salvage her reputation.� Granted,
he�d lost his self-control this afternoon, but up until that point his
intentions had been honorable and she hadn�t exactly resisted him.� They were both worthy, different yet equally
intriguing; Lucius, experienced, controlled,
charismatic, shedding the last of an old dead skin like the pretty snake he
was, and Draco, younger and less tainted, flexible,
earnest, already leaving that old skin behind�

�� Don�t be a
stranger, Draco,� she whispered, and watched
him apparate away.

�� She knew that staying at Lucius�s flat wasn�t a good idea.� She�d already been seduced by one Malfoy today and in spite of how he had moderated, she
still didn�t know what he was like when he was angry or felt slighted.� She wanted to explain herself, though.� She wanted to make him understand.� So she sat on his couch watching reruns of
Doctor Who, Oberon curled up next to her with his warm head in her lap.

�� It was a long time before he came
back.� It was nearly one in the morning.� She braced herself; Lucius
out drinking for almost five hours couldn�t end well.� He seemed in control of himself, however,
when he unlocked the door and shut it behind him.� There wasn�t a trace of a wobble in his step
but he did smell like neighborhood pub.

�� Why are you here?� he asked.

�� Lucius--�

�� Mercurial, he moved on to a new
topic as he entered the living room.� �Doctor
Who?�

�� I�yes,� she answered, blinking,
surprised by his mood swing and his instantaneous recognition of the show.� He really did watch too much television.

�� Eccleston or the other one?�

�� Other one.�

�� He wrinkled his nose.� �Don�t like him.� He looks like Barty
Crouch, Jr.�� He dropped his shoes on the
floor and walked out of the room.

�� Hermione sat on the couch,
bewildered.� She couldn�t figure out if
he was angry, drunk, or just querulous.�
Maybe he was all three.� She could
attest that they occasionally coexisted.�
She blew out a sigh, ruffling Oberon�s short fur, and the dog looked up
at her, affronted.� She scratched behind
his ears and he forgave her.� If only it
was that easy with Lucius.

�� He emerged from the kitchen with a
glass of water.� He then collapsed on the
opposite end of the couch, his posture surly, and nursed the water in silence.� Hermione didn�t know what to say.� Perhaps it was best if she didn�t say
anything.

�� She watched him for a minute or
two.� His eyes were fixed firmly on the
television but she could tell that he wasn�t watching it.� Wheels were turning inside his head.� That scared her more than the silence.� But if he�d allowed her to stay, he couldn�t
be too angry�right?

�� He was providing no answers and she
turned back to the television with a sigh.�
A full fifteen minutes went by.�
She almost forgot that he was fuming beside her.� Until, that is, he rocketed to his feet,
placing the glass on the end table none too gently, and demanded,

�� What in the name of Merlin did he
say to you?�

�� She jumped, startling Oberon and
causing the dog to make a hasty exit from her lap.� Noticing that his master was prowling like a
caged animal, the dog further removed himself by trotting out of the room.

�� What did who say to me?� she asked,
willing herself to be calm.

�� Draco.�

�� She shook her head.� �I don�t understand.�

�� Lucius
sighed, visibly agitated.� He paced a few
more times and then abruptly sat back down.

�� He came to me earlier,� he said,
rubbing his temples.� �Said that he cared
for you, wanted to pursue you, and requested that I back off.�

�� Her mouth fell open.

�� I agreed and I still do.�� He leaned back, his leg twitching madly.� �He is more deserving, and I have done so
much wrong by him.�� He frowned.� More accurately, he pouted, but she would
never dare to call it that out loud.� He
sank lower against the couch.� �But Merlin�s flipping beard, I didn�t expect
you to give in to him so quickly!�

�� Hermione suppressed a smile.� She could read between the lines.� He had been willing to surrender her, but
expected to have a little more time to disengage himself, to sever his
feelings��

�� He must have some talent I lack,� Lucius grumbled.� �Or
perhaps I am too patient.�

�� He says the same thing about you,�
she smiled.� He waved a hand truculently
and resumed his dignified sulking.

�� Lucius��

�� But he stood up, restless once
again, and disappeared into the kitchen.�
There were soft sounds as he moved around.�

�� It�s after midnight, yes?� That makes it three years,� he murmured to
himself.� He reemerged with a bottle and
two glasses.� �We can toast the anti-anniversary.�� He poured a small glass for her and then one
for him and resumed his place on the couch, calmer but still taut with some
undefined energy.

�� Hermione sniffed the liquor.� It smelled tempting and terrible at the same
time.

�� What is this?�

�� Isle
of Skye.�

�� She grimaced.� She didn�t like whiskey, but she�d drink it
anyway.� In exactly three years he�d get
his wand back.� Merlin only knew what
he�d do then�she hoped Merlin knew
because she was fairly sure that Lucius didn�t.

�� Hermione knocked it back, realizing
that this was becoming a bad habit.� She
tried not to cough as it burned a cool swath down her esophagus.� Lucius had no such
problems.� They sat in the dark, the
television flickering with a show neither of them was watching, in uneasy
peace.� At last he pulled himself up with
a great sigh.� He put a hand over his
stomach and made a face.

�� Remind me,� he declared, �never to
drink anything that ends in �meister� or �schlager� ever again.� ��

��

�� Against her better judgment, she
stayed.� Lately everything was against
her better judgment�but for the first time since the whole bitter mess began
she slept blissfully.� Ensconced in the
bed in Lucius�s guestroom, she was dead to world for
nine hours.� Just before noon she drifted
peacefully into consciousness and felt (if only for a few minutes) that
everything was all right.

�� She didn�t hear him.� It was Monday; he ought to be belligerently
counseling people on his ever-present phone.�
Perhaps he was eating lunch.�
Stretching, Hermione took a moment to tame her sleep-mussed hair and
then emerged.� A strong sense of d�j� vu
hit her in the hallway.� It was not so
long ago that she�d made this trip the first time.

�� He wasn�t in the kitchen or the
living room or his office.� His phone sat
forlornly next to the computer.� Unable
to resist, she checked the device � eight missed calls.� Seven
of which are probably Franz, she thought to herself, and smiled.

�� Perhaps he had gone out?� Or perhaps he was feeling those aperitifs
ending in �meister� or �schlager�.� Curiosity was eating her up.� She knew which room was his; he�d disappeared
into it to get her clothing that first time.�
The door was open a crack, inviting her.

�� Oberon made the decision for
her.� A wet nose and grey snout suddenly
wedged itself in the small opening and pushed the door open.� The dog stood in the doorway, contemplating
her, his docked tail wagging.� Beyond him
she could Lucius in bed, still and breathing
evenly.� Asleep.

�� She stepped inside the doorway and
Oberon circled her legs anxiously.� Poor
thing probably needed to be walked.� She
could put him in the playroom but it looked like another nauseatingly beautiful
day outside; since when did London
have such good weather?� She patted the
dog on the head and resolved to walk him, but not until after she got a good
look at his master.

�� It was strange to see him so
vulnerable.� Watching him sleep felt
almost indecent, like she was eavesdropping on something terribly private.� She was sure she�d never see his face so
relaxed or so unguarded any other time.�
Like this, pale and tranquil, it was hard to believe he had ever been so
inhuman.� Indeed, that old Lucius was fading so quickly in her mind that soon she
would not be able to recall him at all.

�� Even under her stare he didn�t stir.� She wondered if he had stayed up, staring at
the ceiling, tortured by something she didn�t understand.� He was more complex than she had ever
realized.� More complex and more
conflicted and more everything.� Damn him.

�� With a sigh she left him to his rest.� She would go see Harry and Ginny and bring
Oberon with her; he was probably missing his sister and she hadn�t yet heard if
Harry�s trial had resulted in a new contract.�
Most people had expected him to become an auror
after the war, and he�d completed half the training, but his heart hadn�t been
in it.� She couldn�t blame him; he�d
spent half his short life fighting and he deserved an escape more than
anyone.� He�d played quidditch
in University (which greatly overshadowed his degree in Defensive Magic) and
then been signed to the Caerphilly Catapults.� In two seasons Harry had catapulted them from the basement to second in the
Welsh league.� He was a free agent now
and though Harry didn�t really care about money or glory, there was more to be
found elsewhere.� With Oliver Wood�s
higher profile English team he�d gain more exposure and probably get a trial
with the national side.

�� She charmed her teeth clean, pulled
her hair into a presentable ponytail, and considered helping herself to another
dose of Lucius�s cologne.� However, her clothing smelled fine; all of
yesterday�s sweat-work had been done without it�

�� She put a hand over her face and
groaned.

�� Hermione!� We weren�t expecting you,� Ginny said as she
opened the door.� The redhead�s cheeks were
flushed and her hair a bit messy; Hermione wondered if she�d interrupted
something.� If she had it probably meant
good news.

�� Hey, Hermione!�
Harry called cheerfully from deeper in the house.� As Ginny ushered her in, she could see that
Harry was similarly ruddy and had put two different socks on.� He was wearing a Puddlemere
United t-shirt, confirming her suspicions.�
�We were just about to have lunch, will you join us?�

�� Hermione smiled.� Lunch, right � if lunch consisted of one
another.� �If you�ll have me,� she
answered mildly.

�� Of course!� the two of them
chorused.� Then they looked at each other
quickly, blushed, and then looked away.�
Hermione chuckled and busied herself with unhooking Oberon�s leash.� At that moment, Titania
burst into the room with an excited bark.

�� Where are you two getting these
dogs?� Harry asked, shaking his head as the dogs sniffed one another and began
to rough house.

�� They�re Malfoy�s,�
Hermione answered.� �Didn�t Ginny tell
you?�

�� No,� he said pointedly, giving his
girlfriend a sideways glance.� �Malfoy just let you borrow his dog?�

�� As a matter of fact, he did,� she
responded.� Harry shrugged.

�� I never really liked dogs, not
after my Aunt Marge�s bulldog Ripper,� he frowned.� �But these two are quite agreeable.� We might have to get one of our own.�

�� Do you mean that?� Ginny asked, almost
sashaying around the table to fall into his arms.

�� Of course,� he said, and pressed a
chaste kiss to her lips.

�� Hermione resisted the urge to
gag.� She was very happy for Harry and
Ginny, really she was.� It was just this
divorce thing; it made her irrationally hate everyone who could find happiness
where hers had failed.� She had
become�cynical.� She would have to get
over it eventually.�

�� Having to choose between two
attractive men wasn�t helping.� It was
like having to choose between vanilla and chocolate; both had their strong
points, their differences, and were irresistible in their own way.� She sighed as her mind schizophrenically
jumped to the waiter in the caf� before all of this had started.� It was true that there were many people out
there who would wish to have her problems�

�� Those people were insane.

�� Harry made a ridiculously good
Caesar salad, as it turned out.� Paired
with the famous Weasley summer tea (it had a dash of
peach schnapps in it) it felt like the perfect July afternoon.� She sat in Harry and Ginny�s small kitchen,
basking in their presence and the light breeze that drifted through the
windows.� The Wizard Wireless was on loud
enough to make out the reports but low enough to ignore.� The dogs had tired themselves playing and lay
in a heap of grey fur by the couch.

�� And now the topic turns to
something we�ve all been hearing about, something rather sensational.� I don�t think there�s a person in existence who hasn�t seen the recent pictures and articles about Lucius Malfoy��

�� They�re obsessed with him,� Harry
sighed.� �I�ll turn it off.�

�� No,� Hermione said, �I haven�t been
keeping up with things, so let�s hear it.�
They�re sure to mention me.�

�� That isn�t necessarily a good
thing,� Harry frowned, but reluctantly raised the volume.

�� So, on this, the third anniversary
of Malfoy�s deeply controversial divorce, we�re going
to speak of what these new appearances mean.�
Mainly, do we believe that he�s actually changed?�

�� Hermione?�
Ginny said, noticing the horrified expression that had crept across her face.

�� Oh,� she said softly.� Last night�s toast had not been about
recovering his wand.� It had been about
the divorce.� Three years divorced�three
years alone.� That was why her relations with Draco
bothered him so much � he liked her and she had slept with his son on the
anniversary of his divorce!� It didn�t
matter that he�d given his blessing; it still smarted.� Heaven help her.� That
was why he had been so moody.� As
difficult as it was to believe, pain
had kept him awake so late that he was still asleep at noon.� The
anti-anniversary�

�� Harry and Ginny were looking at her
expectantly and with a fair amount of concern.

�� I�ll tell you later,� she
sighed.� �After the
rest of the report.�

�� They nodded and listened intently.

�� Malfoy
more or less disappeared after the divorce was finalized.� Now, if you recall a lot of horrific
accusations were leveled at him during that process.� Among these accusations were rape and child
abuse, a lot of really terrible things.�
He was cleared of all these, but it was never acknowledged that the
allegations were lies.� The general
public believes this actually happened.�
One has to wonder if Rita Skeeter is creating
more lies now that Malfoy has re-emerged.� What do you think, Icarus?�

�� A second voice chimed in.

�� Well, Skeeter
is now blaming Malfoy for the recent divorce of
Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.� Malfoy and Granger
have appeared in some interesting photographs lately, so maybe there was an
affair going on, but Skeeter disregards the fact that
Weasley did cheat on Granger.� She was so kind as to bring that to the
world�s attention first and is now completely ignoring it.� I think that perhaps Miss Skeeter
has something against both Malfoy and Granger; she
goes out of her way to make them look bad.�

�� An interesting
point.� Readers and listeners seem
to agree; though overall subscriptions to Witch Weekly have gone up in this
media maelstrom, Skeeter�s popularity has plummeted
in the last week.� She�s down nearly
thirty percentage points.�

�� It�s working,� Ginny grinned.

�� Serves her right,� Hermione
muttered under her breath.

�� It should be pointed out that Malfoy has served six years of a nine year sentence without
a single violation of the terms of his punishment,� the radio host went
on.� �He hasn�t done any magic, hasn�t
attempted to procure a wand, and with these recent pictures just published
today, it is being suggested that he is living harmoniously as a muggle in London.�

�� Yes, today�s pictures show him
playing muggle football.� I can barely believe it, but it�s him.� I think there�s definite hope here.� If he�s having a relationship with Hermione
Granger, who as many of you know, is muggleborn, his
ideals about purity of wizarding blood may have
changed.�

�� Let�s hope so, Icarus.� What do you listeners think?� We�re going to take a quick break, during
which time we invite you to owl or send in your opinion via the wireless.� We�ll read some of your responses when we get
back.� In the meantime, please enjoy
these messages from Florean Fortescue�s
new expanded Ice Cream Shop and Weasley Wizard
Wheezes��

�� It�s going exactly as you planned,� Ginny
commented.� �And I for one am glad.�

�� I never knew all that stuff about Malfoy was false,� Harry said thoughtfully.� �Up until recently you could�ve told me
anything about him and I�d probably believe it.��

�� That makes two of us,� Hermione
sighed, standing.� �Thank you for
lunch�but I�ve got to go.�

��

�� She had thought that perhaps she
could bring Titania back, but the dog didn�t want to
leave.� She stayed warily by Ginny,
plying Hermione with puppy-dog eyes.�
Perhaps Titania knew best when it was time to
go; Hermione left her there.� Harry and
Ginny were taking excellent care of her and there was no use trying to change
the situation if all involved were happy.

�� Mercifully she remembered the key Draco gave her last night.�
As she let herself in to Lucius�s flat, she
wondered if he�d be up and about now.�
However, it looked exactly as it had when she left.� It was nearly three o�clock.� Was he still
in bed?

�� She checked his phone and his
computer.� Thirteen missed calls now, and
one message box.� Draco.� He had typed �I�m sorry� about fifteen
times.� Evidently he had realized what
day it was, too, and how much his seduction of her had wounded his father.� Not because he was in love with her; he
wasn�t.� It was the timing.

�� She put Oberon in the playroom and
this time walked unhesitatingly into his room.�
Sure enough, he was still coiled beneath the covers.� A dull pain throbbed in her chest; this
wasn�t about exhaustion, it was about depression.� For once the fa�ade was down.� And why not?� If he couldn�t be openly miserable today,
when could he?

�� She took off her shoes.� Misery loved company, didn�t it?� Without much thought, she climbed into the
bed beside him and curled against his back.�
He wasn�t wearing a shirt and his skin was quite warm.� She was hit by his scent � pure man.� Oh, she had been a thousand percent right
about him not needing cologne.� He didn�t
move but there was enough tension in his body that she knew he was awake.

�� I�m sorry,� she murmured against
his hair.� Her mother had done the exact
same thing for her when she�d come after Ron�s last visit.� She had crawled into bed, held her fractured
daughter, smoothing her hair gently behind her ear, and simply been there.� Sometimes everyone needed a physical rock, an
anchor�

�� The tension leached out of him.� His shoulders relaxed and dropped.� He shifted slightly but didn�t try to
escape.� She lay against him, matching her
breath to his, feeling the steady staccato of his heart, for an indeterminate
time.� She was almost lulled into sleep
when he quietly spoke.

�� What time is it?�

�� I don�t know.� After 3.��

�� And how many times has Franz
called?�

�� She smiled into the silk of his pale
tresses.� �Thirteen, at last check.�

�� Freak,� he muttered.� �I don�t know what he�s worried about, muggle tax season is still months away.�� His skin shifted against her as he
sighed.� �I have a six o�clock dinner
appointment with the Bulstrodes.� I have to finish covering up two years of
blatant tax evasion.�

�� Should you be doing that?�

�� They�re under blood oath to pay
what they owe by August 1.� I�m just
keeping them out of court.�

�� And if they don�t pay?�

�� They will.�� His voice was coolly certain and held an
undertone that reminded her who she was dealing with.� She wondered what conditions had been placed
on that blood oath; one didn�t need a wand for that.� Blood was magical enough�

�� He moved suddenly.� She didn�t have time even for a thought.� He pressed her onto her back and draped his
body over hers, chest to chest, hip to hip.�
For the second time in just over 24 hours, a Malfoy
was on top of her, inflamed with something even he couldn�t describe.� And for the second time, her body was
reacting.� In the languid pressure of his
body, the dangerous blue of his eyes, and the dominance he exuded, she was
feeling the full and formidable brunt of Lucius Malfoy�s sexuality.� It
became increasingly difficult to breathe when his tongue flickered over pulse.

�� You are playing a dangerous game,
little witch,� he whispered, �crawling into my bed on a day like this.� ��

Authors Note 2.0: I think by now you can tell that the muse
has decided not to venture into Lucius/Ginny
territory.� Perhaps
another time. ;)� But don�t worry
about old Lucius, he won�t be left alone.
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Some Blond Fool