Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Xeoforce Equation	By : Esequell Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 5632 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
7 – To Kiss a Serpent
Lucius had no business or social plans for Hermione's evening and she didn't want to pass another lonely weekday night at the Manor. She fished out an old pair of skinny black jeggings that she sometimes wore to work under her robes and a plain, fitted shirt. She put her black and grey tartan Winter coat on over the top and donned a scarf. Lucius was in his office surrounded by a circular, floating array of crime-scene photographs. He bent over a report, his quill scritching busily.
'Potter tonight, is it?' he asked, sounding rather unimpressed.
'No, Harry's working. I'll be back by eleven.'
'Fine,' he said absently. 'Just be sure to drag the Weasley girl along. Or perhaps that irritating, air-headed Lovegood?'
'All working!' Hermione called over her shoulder.
Lucius emerged from his office as Hermione put her foot on the top step. He looked tired. His limp hair had gone a couple of days without a wash.
'If I may ask,' he arched a brow. 'Where do you intend to go?'
'What does it matter?'
Lucius arched a brow sarcastically.
'It matters, because the lackwit would hang me out to dry if I lost his precious "Golden Girl"to Muggle London.'
'I've got to get out of this house!' there was an edge of desperation in her voice. 'I mean, I've been cooped up in here for ages and before that, I was stuck in Grimmauld Place, practically alone apart from a horrible House Elf.'
'You're not going out on your own,' he insisted. His slippers whispered on the soft hall carpet as he closed the distance between them. 'If you must insist on your little escapade, then somebody is going to have to go with you. But you owe me, Miss Granger. I intended to work this evening.'
Hermione was lost for words.
'I really don't think you'll like where I'm going.'
'Wait. There,' Lucius insisted. 'Be assured if you're gone when I get back, I'll summon Mr Potter.'
'Do you really think you're going to go wandering through Muggle London in your bloody smoking jacket?' she called at his back. He jogged up the stairs. 'You'll stick out like a sore thumb!'
Hermione checked the time restlessly, unwilling to miss the film. Lucius strode into view with plenty of time to spare. His hair was fastened back in an attractive braid that she imagined one of the House-Elves must have done for him. It made his eyes look even more striking than usual. It suited him.
His brown calf-skin boots were just visible under a pair of black jeans and he wore a thick, knee-length woollen coat over the top of a fine, plain black shirt. His cashmere scarf was doubled over and pulled through its own loop.
'I-er-' she stumbled over her words.
He spread his hands in silent question. The effect was ruined by the fact they were stuffed into his coat pockets. She eyed his flat tummy and her mouth went dry.
'And?' he prompted. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly. He arched a brow expectantly. 'Do I meet with your approval?'
'Erm-yes,' she managed to get a breath into her lungs. 'Of course. I just didn't expect-' she cast an almost wary glance at his legs and shook her head lightly.
'Speechless at last,' he smirked. 'I must say, a fine quality in a lady.'
Her anger brought her back down to Earth.
'One you should aspire to,' she agreed.
'I'm not a lady,' he said, with deep satisfaction at having won another verbal sparring match.
Hermione flashed her wand casually.
'We could fix that.'
He snorted. 'An eye for an eye, my dear. Expect a fair comeback.'

oOo
Hermione apparated into an alley she knew well from previous cinema trips. She hid herself in the alley-mouth shadows and checked the street beyond to be certain no-one was watching. Lucius leaned close to her back, searching the crowd for familiar faces. No-one was paying them any attention. Her boot-toes disturbed little fractions of broken brick and old, flayed newspapers.
'Are you OK?' she asked quietly.
'Surely you don't think this is my first visit to the Muggle world?' The hint of laughter in his voice irritated her.
'I honestly don't know,' she admitted. 'It's called being nice. I'm hardly surprise you barely recognise it.'
'Touché.'
He followed her casually into the street. Hermione kept her eye on him under her lashes. She was curious to see how he'd handle this.
His sneer was gone. He let her set the pace and followed comfortably with his hands in his coat pockets. He didn't draw any extra attention to himself. He might as well be a well-dressed businessman out for the evening. She breathed out her relief and lead him up the steps to her favourite Odeon. She stopped at the poster to see what was playing.
'You seem it at ease, Miss Granger,' he observed, innocently, over her shoulder, 'Is something the matter?'
'You,' she admitted. 'I have to say, I never expected you to be so...'
'Muggle?' he supplied.
'Yes!'
'Know thine enemy.'
'You know,' she said softly. 'I really think we should stop these conversations one sentence sooner.'
'Miss Granger,' he stopped her with a light touch to the elbow and said a little apologetically, 'Not a romance, if you'd be so kind.'
To his credit, Lucius was neither a movie fidgeter or a noisy eater. She was grateful for that. He accepted her offer of popcorn (salty) and coke (diet) and thereafter, dipped his hand into the carton now and then, enjoying the texture more than the taste. Hermione stole occasional glances at him. His attention was riveted to the screen. She caught him smiling at the jokes. He stretched out once, his legs crossed at the ankles and she was glad she'd picked Premier seats. He was certainly on the tall side. When the credits rolled, she sat perfectly still until the lights came up.
'Did you like it?' she asked, a bit uncomfortably. 'It's actually based on one of my favourite books-'
She shut her mouth before it could run off without consulting her brain. He was looking at her oddly. It was an expression she really couldn't read.
'I suppose it must be weird for you to see life without magic,' the silence forced a second rather inane comment out of her.
'It was quite funny,' he conceded. 'Certainly better than those blasted investigations.'
She hid a smile as she gathered her coat and bag. Compliment indeed, she thought.
On the well-lit London street outside, her belly grumbled loudly. She spied a burger van not far down the street and entertained a pleasurable vision of a juicy, Americanised quarter pounder with cheese.
'Are you hungry?' she ventured.
'That depends on what you intend to feed me.'
'Fried food,' she teased.
He looked down his nose at her but she sensed it wasn't completely serious. 'I should have known. I promise you, I won't so much as look at a hot-dog. Draco pulled that trick once and neither one of us enjoyed the aftermath.'
Hermione cracked a smile. 'Enough information?'
'Quite,' he followed her, his regular footfalls a rhythm she was coming to know.
As she drew closer to the van and he guessed her destination he caught her lightly by the elbow.
'I most certainly will not eat there!' he insisted.
'Oh, come on!' she tugged a bit petulantly. 'I hardly ever get a decent burger!'
'Why on Earth would you want to?' he countered. 'I'm sure Misty could make you a very passable and certainly less...fattening...version?'
'Because they taste amazing!' she enthused, breaking free.
'Your diet is...' disgusting, he thought, then he modified it to, 'Questionable. At best. Fine. If this poisons either one of us, I promise I'll cook next time, and you will eat. It won't be pleasant.'
She soon handed him a burger wrapped in a tissue. She scarpered into the shadows of the alley behind the van to wrap her lips around something she'd sworn she'd never eat again for as long as she wanted her backside the stay the right size. She hummed her approval, licking tomato sauce off her fingers.
'Oh my God, this is sooooo good,' she said, through a mouthful.
'Would you like a bib, Miss Granger?'
She rolled her eyes.
'I could find one of Draco's, if you like,' he offered. 'The type with the little tray at the bottom-'
She held up a hand.
'Before you go any further, I want to see you eat yours without getting so much as a scrap down that bloody perfect shirt. Then you can criticise.'
He was very nearly on the last bite when he had to suck a dribble of tomato sauce of his thumb quickly. The brightest witch of her age spotted it and exclaimed triumphantly; 'I saw that!'
'You saw nothing,' he sniffed. He hid his hand in his pocket.
'Sore loser, Mr Malfoy?' she chuckled. 'Why doesn't that surprise me.'
'At least I managed to get it all in my mouth,' he pointed out.
'What does that prove?' she asked pointedly.
'And what, exactly, are you insinuating?' the eyebrow went up, the signal that she was treading dangerously.
She smirked and looked away. Why do I feel shy? She put her tissue in the nearest bin and wiped her sticky hands on her jeans.
'Miss Granger,' he said threateningly. He came closer. His eyes sparked dangerously. She sensed his intent was playful and her apprehension became more about what might happen next.
'Has the Gryffindor kitten lost her courage in the face of the snake?' he smirked as she backed away.
'No!' she lied.
He snagged her by her middle and dragged her in. Despite her best efforts he really was disturbingly strong. It was deliciously comforting to be held so gently. Ron had never been much on cuddles but Hermione loved them and she'd do almost anything to get one.
'Are you trying to imply I have a big mouth?' he persisted, in her ear. Her scalp goose-pimpled. It sent a chill down the back of her neck.
She grinned from ear to ear. She was so pleased he was touching her she couldn't stop. He was so very warm.
'I'd hardly call it an implication,' she said breathlessly. 'More a medical fact.'
He tickled her until she gasped out a desperate; 'Stop!'
'Afraid I'll make you shriek in the middle of the street?' he enquired softly. She could hear him smiling. 'What do we say, kitten?' he prompted.
'No,' she refused to beg. She wanted him to keep touching her. He gave her another bout of tickling until she finally yelped; 'Please!'
He stopped with a soft chuckle and gently set her back on her feet. He held on a bit longer than was really necessary before he released her with a Slytherin smirk.
'I'm going to get you back, you know,' she panted.
'I'm not ticklish,' he lied.
They walked in fairly companionable silence back through the old, Victorian buildings to the apparition point.
'You owe me, Miss Granger,' he said as they closed the front door and enjoyed the warmth of the Manor.
'I know,' she sighed. 'You're going to drag me to another boring dinner party and ask me to let some old codger feel me up again.'
'That's not the first time you've mentioned him,' Lucius caught up to her on the stairs. 'Did he harm you?'
She stopped dead, her heart thumping fast.
He stood two steps below her and gazed up at her face. 'I imagined you'd get your claws out long before Brockelfort had chance to mistreat you. Physically anyway. Tell me you aren't that easily led,' there was an edge of a sneer to it.
She avoided his eyes.
'No. He just made me feel...disgusting. It'd help if you actually share some details with me beforehand. You let me walk in blind, and ask me to trust you. I hate to remind you yet again, but you're not exactly somebody I'd usually trust under normal circumstances.'
He folded his arms, his grey eyes cold as steel.
'It's good to know somebody is holding so tightly to the past. Wouldn't want that forgotten, would we?' There was bite to it.
'You expect me to just forget everything that happened-' she stopped herself at the memory of her evening spent on the drawing room floor. 'The cruciatus isn't exactly something you forget easily.'
'Back to that, are we?' he enquired, all trace of humour gone. 'You certainly have a...tenacious...memory. What should I have done? If I'd lifted a finger, Draco would have been next.'
Before she could answer he backed down, anger melting into resignation. Or was it disappointment? She wasn't sure.
'I should have,' he admitted suddenly. 'I should have stopped her. There are...quite a few things...I should have done. But unless you have a time turner stashed in that ridiculous bag of yours,' his lips turned upwards, 'The most I can offer is a sort of...amends now.'
She folded her arms and swallowed down her tears.
'Come here,' he said gently.
'What? Why?'
He rolled his eyes.
'Honestly, Miss Granger. I'm not going to bite you. Do you think I'll get a restful night if I have to imagine you sobbing in your suite?'
'You keep going like this and I'll start to think you actually care,' she quipped. Her resolve was failing.
He enfolded her in a hug that reminded her so much of her Father that she actually sobbed before she managed to bite it back and swallow her reaction. She found a spot near his collarbone where she could smell his skin. He was so warm that she never, ever wanted to move again. Her knees went all soft and her heart yawned open, needy and willing.
'You could hug me back,' he suggested drily. 'Before I start to feel like a cuddle rapist.'
She laughed in surprise. She wrapped her arms around him and for the first time since her messy breakup with Ron, she actually smiled for something other than a new book.
'Mr Malfoy-'
'Lucius would be a bit more appropriate, don't you think?' he arched a brow.
'Lucius,' she amended. 'I can't believe you just said cuddle and rapist in the same sentence.'
'Nobody would believe you if you told them,' he sniffed.
She choked out a laugh.
'Thank you,' she murmured against his shirt.
'Would you care for a drink?'
She nodded. 'OK.'

oOo
Hermione woke up hung over with vague memories of drinking quite a bit of Whisky in the study and then falling asleep on the sofa. She remembered hearing him snort and insult her tolerance for alcohol as he carried her upstairs. A strange warmth settled around her heart.
She rolled over to find a phial of bright green Pepper-Up potion waiting beside the bed. There was a little luggage-tag hanging from the neck.

I expect you'll want one of these. L
She smiled a bit painfully and swallowed it down with a wince. She felt much better after a shower. She wandered down to breakfast with her curls still drying. Lucius was already there. He looked much healthier than she felt.
'Well, well. It rises from the pit,' he smirked at her expense.
She pulled the top of his paper down, taking care to deliberately crumple the page.
'Why is there a zombie at the breakfast table, and what've you done with Lucius Malfoy?'
He tugged his paper free with an arched brow and unwrinkled it patiently. He shook it straight and went back to reading.
'My greatest secret revealed,' he said, 'I'm not a morning person.'
'That makes two of us.'
'But at least I make it look good,' he added.
She realised she'd been set up. She stuffed her scrambled egg into her mouth.
'You are human after all. You want to be careful. Your heart will grow three sizes.'
He glanced at her over his paper, thinking; it already has.
'Preposterous. I don't have a heart.'

oOo
Hermione was in the library, poring over the Equation. Her hair was a bit frazzled and she looked tired. Lucius handed her a gilded invitation.
'"Rosaline and Mercy Brockelfort cordially invite you to attend their Christmas Ball on December 21st."' Hermione gazed at it suspiciously. 'I think Harry should see this. It might be a trap.'
'Quite,' Lucius nodded.
A few minutes later, Hermione stuck her head in the fireplace. Harry crouched in his office to speak to the embers.
'The memories you gave me definitely provide enough evidence of the attempted use of the Imperio,' Harry agreed. 'But the Mads thinks the conversation you witnessed is too vague. It won't hold up in court, anyway. The most we can sting him for his theft or illegal trading, depending on whether we ever find the Unicorn's owners.'
'They've got to be from a private estate,' Hermione said. 'They're far too tame.'
'I know. As for that,' he gestured to the invitation. 'Yeah, it might be a trap. Or at least, Brockelfort is after information. To see if he's suspected. It's up to you if you want to risk falling into it for the sake of answers.'
'It might be the fastest way out of this situation,' Hermione admitted. 'I want my life back, Harry.'
'The Minister can't force you. Not into this.'
'The luxury of choice at last,' Lucius drawled from the study behind her. 'How very considerate of him. Be sure to give him my regards.'

oOo
'Miss Granger. Would you join me for a walk? We have a few things to discuss.'
The grounds were frozen solid. Yet more snow was forecast for later that night but for now the sky was light grey. The wind was very cold. Hermione pushed her hands into her coat pockets. Lucius lead her down the path, around the lake and into the fields. Adder and Arrow trotted ahead, their tongues lolling.
At the stile, both dogs wormed their way through a gap in the fence and waited on the other side, whining expectantly as Lucius climbed over. As Hermione made to step down on the other side, he caught her hand with a tight smile and a nod. He whistled to the dogs.
'Go on, boys!' he grinned at their enthusiasm.
They shot off like two, grey rockets, covering ground quickly. They circled the wide field, diving in and out of the woods. Hermione's breath fogged as she and Lucius trudged up the uneven, grassy field edge toward a little folly on the hill.
She stepped inside the cavernous little building. Its high ceiling invited her; 'Echo!'
Lucius winced and rolled his eyes. She smiled unapologetically.
They walked a long, dirt track, following the paw-prints in the snow. They came to the crest of a great hill. Down the steep bank wound the winding, silver river Hermione had seen from the Manor. She didn't fancy the bank. It looked slippery. Adder and Arrow were already by the water, chasing rabbits whenever they could find one.
'What of the party, Miss Granger?'
'Well,' she unzipped her coat to let some heat escape. The long walk had left her flushed. She'd need a bath later, to warm her feet up. 'I think we should go.'
'Then I feel I should warn you that Rosaline's tastes run toward the...exotic.'
'Oh,' Hermione glanced at the shimmering river. 'In what way?'
'She's rather well known for her...alternative...sexual proclivities. I imagine, that the party will quickly degenerate. Should Mercy make an appearance, and I expect he will, I'll be very surprised if he doesn't attempt to-' he trailed off.
'Great,' she sighed. 'That's just great. I really don't see what choice we have. I'll never have a normal life until this is over and to be honest...much as I love Harry...I really don't see him solving this case until the Auror office gets its thumb out of its arse-'
'Too much bureaucracy, my dear,' he said lightly. 'Really, working for the Ministry is terribly dull.'
'I was under the impression you spent more time trying to influence the Minister than doing actual paperwork-' she said innocently.
'It didn't quite have the desired effect, did it?' he said. There was a tinge of regret in his voice.
Hermione took that as a moment of honest vulnerability and felt curiously honoured by his candor.
'Alright,' she breathed after a minute. 'When you say...alternative sexual proclivities. What exactly does that mean? I don't want to get the wrong end of the stick here. I mean, there's a bit of a difference between enduring the sight of Mercy Brockelfort in flagrante delicto and being...involved myself.'
'You'll almost certainly be asked,' he nodded. 'I confess I was simply worried you might hex someone if I left you...unprepared. We'll simply tell a little lie.'
'Which is?'
'We'll say you're spoken for and I certainly do not share.'
'Oh,' she said. 'And will this involve and actual er...activity?'
'Do give me a little credit, Miss Granger? I'm many things, but I like to think a libertine is not one one of them. That's why I'd like your permission to inform any who might require it that you're mine.'
She let out a slow breath.
'Only if you promise me you won't let anyone...touch me.'
Lucius regarded her with an unusually gentle expression.
He reached for her suddenly but he hesitated before his gloved fingers could connect. His eyes were hungry and his body language spoke of need, edged with patience. Hermione closed the distance breathlessly. His hand slid gently into her curls. He brought her close to his warm chest until she rested her forehead on him. She breathed in his warmth and unique smell and smiled.
She wrapped her arms around his waist tentatively as if she was afraid he might suddenly change his mind and reject her. His breathing changed. He was desperately in need of more. He wanted some sense of security in her feelings for him but he wasn't willing to risk rejection to get it. He let out a warm sigh into her hair and closed his eyes against the top of her head. She could hear his heartbeat.
'It's important to me,' she confessed. 'I always wanted it to be right.'
'I give you my word,' he whispered to her. 'No-one will touch your virtue.'
There was no lie in his gaze. His lips lifted in a small smile. It was the first time he'd smiled so openly for her. It lifted his face and revealed little crows feet at the corners of his eyes. He looked much younger. She wondered if he wanted to kiss her. She couldn't deny that if he tried, she was going to let him. Wrapped in his warm, protective arms she felt safer and more complete than ever before.
I need this, she realised. All those years of running around trying to stay alive. I need to feel safe and he does that for me.
'I'd better go shopping, then. I'd hate to insult your delicate sensibilities by wearing the same evening gown twice,' she said teasingly.
'Yes, please spare me that,' he agreed with a teasing smirk.
'I haven't actually done any Christmas shopping yet and everyone's going to Harry's for Christmas. I really need to get some gifts.'
Lucius watched her expressions flicker gently over her fine features. She was rather a beautiful girl, even if she was terribly stubborn at times. He liked that about her, much as it often frustrated him. She was strong-willed, intelligent and brave. Few people ever answered him back, awed as they were by his power, money or reputation. She did. She was so, so strong and yet conversely, he could sense a delicacy and an innocence about her that he desperately wanted to claim and protect.
Her eyelids flickered, little tawny half-moons like shredded moth wings in the wind. Her cheeks had taken on a delicious rosy flush. He hadn't even tried to kiss her, though he wanted to. Back to front, he thought. He couldn't remember Narcissa ever doing this. Rarely before they were married and never afterwards. She was tricky to get close to at the best of times.
He loosened his hold to give her chance to step away. She parted from him reluctantly, presenting him with the perfect chance for a kiss as she lifted her chin to gaze at him, but what he saw in her eyes almost stopped his heart. Trust. Nobody had looked at him like that in years. He held off, reluctant to make a fatal mistake.
'Would you care for some company into town?' he asked. 'For your own safety, naturally.'
She nodded.

oOo
Lucius was waiting at the door. He offered her the bracelet, already attached to his own wrist. She slid it on and then put her stretchy black gloves on over the top. She'd chosen her tartan coat and a green scarf over jeans. Her knee-high heeled leather boots raised her a couple of inches. Lucius picked up the the edge of her scarf, close to her jaw and deliberately far from more sensitive areas.
'There's a special punishment at Hogwarts for House traitors,' he arched a brow playfully.
'For wearing green?' she asked doubtfully.
'It's quite against the rules,' he sniffed.
'Well, I'm not taking it off,' she teased. 'It's too cold.'
His loose hair stirred in the breeze. At the gate her turned to her.
'Miss Granger-'
'Hermione,' she said. 'I think we can risk a first name basis now. To be honest, "Miss Granger" makes me feel about eleven years old.'
'It's generally considered polite,' he pointed out. 'In fact, in...certain...circles, if I called you anything else they'd assume we were...ah,' he smiled apologetically.
'This is another one of those Pureblood customs?'
'Naturally. In fact, it's very unusual for an unmarried man to call a...very...eligible young lady by her given name unless he's either family, or her intended.'
'Eligible?' she arched a brow at him. 'I most certainly am not.'
'You're not married, are you?' he feigned surprise.
'No, but that doesn't mean-'
'It means, Hermione, that gentlemen will vie for your hand whether you intend to marry or not. Especially if you continue to move in my social circle.'
'Well,' she blustered a bit. 'They're going to be disappointed, because I'm not marrying anyone any time soon.'
He smirked.
'Shall we?' he offered his arm. 'Hermione.'
'Of course,' she put an edge of the poshest accent she could into her voice and took his arm. 'Lucius.'
'What a delicious pronunciation you have,' he said. His brow furrowed lightly. 'I do believe it'd be worth a few elocution lessons to improve that natural lilt.'
'No!' she said quickly. 'You're absolutely not going to turn me into some sort of...snob. Just so that you can look better in front of your friends!'
'You misunderstand me,' he smiled tightly. 'Many of the richest and naturally...the most influential...families and indeed, benefactors for your future business, are Pureblood and therefore, have certain expectations and tastes. Should you be willing to meet those expectations, you might find that gold flows more easily,' he arched a brow. 'Forgive my phrasing, but I fear presenting yourself thus, may give them the impression you're rather...common.'
Hermione's eyes bugged.
'Excuse me?'
'Many simply prefer to do business with those who appear...to be of a certain social standing. Prejudice is not weeded out in a generation, my dear. I merely suggest that instead of fighting expectation, you might like to take advantage of a useful resource recently become available to you. For your own benefit, of course.'
'Which is?'
'Why, me. Naturally,' he said, as if it should be obvious. 'A paltry Ministry backing means nothing in good Society,' he waved a hand derisively. 'However. A well spoken, properly attired young lady, both clever and articulate, well trained in etiquette and perhaps, a touch of Slytherin cunning to compliment her own natural intelligence, could go a very long way, particular with endorsement from the right names.'
He laid his hand gently over hers in the crook of his arm.
'Think of it as a performance. Make-up to be taken off at will.'

oOo
Diagon Alley was packed with pre-Christmas shoppers. The street was temporarily magically extended to include a bustling, colourful market. Hermione lead Lucius into the nearest dress shop and perused the rails.
'I could have sworn I heard someone apparate in behind us,' she whispered to him anxiously.
'People apparate in and out all the time,' he murmured, not far from her hairline as he passed by, his cane making dull little sounds on the thick carpet. 'Don't fret, my dear.'
'It's kind of hard when you feel like the whole world's watching your back,' she pointed out.
'I'm afraid I'm quite used to it,' he perched on a chair, his back straight and leaned a hand on his silver cane.
'Is this too blue?' she asked.
'It drowns you,' he said, without preamble. 'Though for once you picked an appropriate cut.'
'Oh wow...' Hermione breathed appreciatively, as she fished a very pretty red gown off a rail and held it up.
'Really, you're not going to a Prom,' he pointed out. 'Imagine what Mercy will think if he sees your...assets...on display?'
She put it down with a disappointed clunk.
'What we require,' he stood and idly searched through the choices. 'Is something fetching but demure, flattering and elegant, that leaves enough room to wear a little jewellery.'
He finally picked a dark blue dress with thin straps but discarded it when it came to her calves.
'This won't do,' he sighed. 'We'll try somewhere else.'
'Ah!' he exclaimed, as they passed the window of an upmarket dress shop. 'Much better.'
'No!' she resisted, though not too hard, for fear of causing a scene. 'Lucius. There's no way I can afford their clothes.'
He stood in the open door, one hand on the door handle, the other outstretched for her. His eyebrow arched but it lacked much venom.
'Mr Malfoy!' an excited female voice said from inside.
Hermione followed him inside reluctantly.
'Mrs Teasdale. Miss Granger requires an evening gown in a suitable colour and style.'
'Of course,' Teasdale nodded, turning her eye on Hermione. 'Such a surprise to see you here. We saw Mr Malfoy in the paper, of course.'
'I hope you don't believe such rubbish,' Lucius drawled.
'I certainly don't!' the middle-aged, brown-haired little witch was on the skinny side. She sounded offended at the very suggestion. 'And besides, what two people choose to do with themselves romantically is quite beyond reproach as far as I'm concerned! As for your gown, I'd say...pink perhaps. Or silver. Black may be a little too strong on you. I do have a very pretty white number with some lilac embroidery. Let's give them a go, shall we?'
Hermione found Mrs Teasdale oddly reassuring. She was clearly a Pureblood and definitely rather posh but she was friendly and grounded too. Hermione liked that.
'Will you be staying, Mr Malfoy?' Teasdale enquired lightly.
He nodded.
Teasdale closed the curtains behind them and helped Hermione out of her shirt and into the first, an elegant pale pink gown that brushed the floor and left a split to her knee. It was smooth, panelled and it felt like silk. She presented herself rather nervously for Lucius only to see his eyes grow hungry.
'We might need to take it in a little,' Teasdale said, tugging the waist a bit. 'You're a bit smaller in the waist. I could have that done in no time. What do you think?'
'The colour certainly suits, but I'd like to see the silver,' Lucius said.
The second dress was more of a ballgown than a mere evening dress, complete with a strapless bodice in beautiful, shimmering silver satin. It was enchanted to sparkle just a little. The smooth skirt fell all the way to the floor. It felt wonderful, as soft as the sheets she slept on. This time, Lucius stood and hung his cane on his arm. There was a funny expression on his face, half way between awe and hunger.
'Permit me?' he enquired of her, holding both his hands up.
Hermione nodded even though she wasn't sure what he planned to do. He shed his gloves quickly and gathered up her hair. He arranged it delicately on top of her head. Hermione tried not to shiver. He was so gentle she couldn't help but feel he'd done this before. Catching the idea, Mrs Teasdale applied a quick sticking charm. Lucius released her curls, his palms tingling. She was so soft.
'Exquisite,' Lucius said approvingly. 'Shoes?'
'Of course.'
When Teasdale was gone, Hermione spun to look at him.
'You know very well I can't afford this!'
'Oh, pish,' he flicked away an imaginary fly. 'What sort of gentleman would bring you into a dressmakers and expect you to pay?'
'A modern one!' she smirked.
'A Mr Weasley,' Lucius nodded drily. She went pink. 'I imagine he would. Your attendance at these events, necessitated by my position, hasn't precisely been voluntary. I do hope the Minister reimbursed you for last time.'
'Actually, he said something about invoicing you,' she teased him.
'Fine,' Lucius gave a rare shrug. Then he added expectantly, 'So, in the name of allowing me to cover your expenses. What do you think?'
He gestured to the mirror.
'I think it's...' she threw her hands up and gave into the urge to smile. 'Amazing. But I doubt I can run in it.'
'I'm sure you can come up with a few handy charms?' he arched a brow. 'You do for everything else.'

oOo
The next afternoon, Hermione and Misty heard raised voices in the locked study.
'Master Draco,' Misty said, fearfully. 'Master Lucius will be in a terrible humour tonight.'
Lucius retreated to the Summerhouse on the far side of the lake with his wand and a bottle and wouldn't come up to the Manor for dinner. Misty picked up the shards of broken glass from the study floor.
Hermione held her coat close against the biting cold. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, just in time for Christmas. It was dark by the lake. Even her Lumos did little to lift the wraith-like fog or dispel her quiet, irrational fears. Her breath fogged as she navigated the uneven path and trod lightly - and quickly - over the little rope and wood bridge used to access the far side. A waterfall that began in the topmost pond and ran down seven tiers to reach the lake below was frozen solid.
She knocked the door and waited. He didn't answer.
'Lucius?' she called.
She tried the door. It was locked. She sighed a soft cloud of vapour and spoke to the wood.
'I can see your wandlight,' she said, a bit exasperatedly. 'I just want to know you're OK.'
Nothing. Hermione sighed in annoyance.
'Please?' she tried.
The lock clicked open. Relieved, she pushed the door and stepped into the artificial warmth he'd created with a charm expression morphed from irritation into weary resignation. He lifted a glass to his lips.
'Surely you understand that a locked door means I'd sooner not be disturbed.'
'Well...if you want me to go, why did you let me in?' she said reasonably.
'Shut the door,' he sighed. 'I'd sooner not add a chill to my list of minor vexations.'
She padded across the deep, dark leather rug, made from little strips tied through a backing net. He lounged in a padded chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle.
Hermione perched on the arm.
'What on Earth drew you down here? It's not the most comfortable spot, considering you have an entire Manor!'
'A different perspective,' he said.
'The house looks beautiful from down here-' she observed.
'Hermione,' he sighed. 'Will you please stop talking.'
She rolled her eyes at his blunt manner but obliged him. After a minute, he put a gentle hand on her hip. It warmed her through her coat.
'Come here,' he murmured. He patted his lap.
He put his glass down and gave her a gentle tug. It was by no means intended to unseat her. It was just encouragement.
'You want a cuddle?' she asked quietly, disbelievingly, anxiously. Her voice was breathy and thin.
'I don't want one. I need one.'
She slid into his lap. He helped her into a comfortable position, across his legs with her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She could smell his skin, feel his rough Five O Clock shadow against her temple. He was so warm. He picked up his glass and laid his free hand on her knee. It wasn't exactly a sexual gesture, more casual. It felt reassuring and sweet and rather protective. It made her heart go warm.
Her curls tickled his jaw. He pressed his rough cheek to her temple and closed his eyes. The silence stretched while he breathed regularly in and out. He sighed softly. She sensed it was a release of tension rather than the irritation of before. His hold on her grew a bit more confident, though no less casual and he turned his face to bury his nose gently in her hair. He stayed that way, until at last he smiled against her temple.
'Professor Snape would have a conniption,' he said drily. 'Don't you think?'
She smiled to his jaw, delighted that his low mood seemed to have ebbed. He was back to his normal self, which wasn't a huge improvement at any rate, but it was better than an angry, hurt Lucius.
'He'd probably faint,' she agreed.
He adjusted his hold again, one arm around her waist, the other hand on her thigh.
'You miss him, don't you? You mention him a lot,' she didn't move from her comfortable spot.
'Severus and I were good friends. Even during the worst times.'
'I never really saw him for what he was. Not until the end,' she whispered. 'He was so brave.'
'He was a difficult man,' Lucius said softly. 'Exceptionally stubborn. He certainly knew how to get under my skin but...he was a loyal friend. He was company at times too, when Draco was away and my wife-' he stopped.
Hermione waited, sensing he'd continue but the silence stretched on. She decided not to press him.
He was so fair-skinned that she could see his bare throat in the near dark. She brushed his Adams Apple with her fingertips. He tilted his chin up willingly, allowing her time to explore unhindered.
He caught her hand gently and turned it over to expose her wrist. His thumb stroked a steady rhythm over her pulse. She shivered in delicious anticipation, feeling vulnerable in a new way.
She wasn't sure if he irritated her, frightened her or aroused her most of all. Perhaps it was all three. His hand swallowed hers. He memorised her delicate fingers with butterfly touches. Heat coiled around the base of her spine. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. Her heart swelled in a supremely confusing way she'd only felt once before, with Ron. She flushed pink, unexpectedly shy.
She could hear her heart thumping in her ears. She was dizzy with anticipation.
Their eyes locked. His grey eyes became heavy as he leaned in and fluttered closed as he brushed his soft lips over hers. She tightened her grip on his hand. She was unwilling to risk startling him by kissing back too enthusiastically but she needed to feel like he wouldn't let go so badly.
He broke the contact to search her eyes. Her voice seized up, her breath came in short, helpless little gasps. He rested his forehead gently against hers. His hair tickled her face. She tried to drive down the relentless tremble in her hands. She was terrified he'd misinterpret it as fear. He drew her hand gently to his chest and pressed her palm to his heart. It thudded. It was like a punch in the guts. He was terrified, and he was sharing that with her.
'Lucius-' she managed, breathily.
He kissed her a bit more confidently. It was chaste by the standards of Quidditch players but it felt more intimate than anything she'd done with Ron. She kissed back, her body gone small, her head tilted back.
Lucius tightened his hold on her protectively. He'd felt this body language before. It was willingness with an edge of desperate submission and it inflamed him from the outside in. It called to a deep, hidden part of his personality that he never made public; the need to own that which was most beautiful, most delicate, and protect it. Earn its love.
He needed her to need him. He needed a strong woman to show him her secret vulnerability.
'You're trembling,' he took her smaller hands in one of his.
Hermione kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth and then returned her lips to his for a soft, shallow exploration. He touched her tongue with his briefly to gauge her reaction and found her pliant and willing. He drew away to breathe, to calm his raging erection, to kiss her jaw tenderly. He guided her head gently into the crook of his neck and laid his hand protectively on the back of her neck. Hermione relaxed completely, all her secret, atavistic fear snatched away by the simple promise that he was now protecting her most vulnerable place.
Hermione played gently with his loose hair. She dozed very briefly and woke in his arms.
Lucius helped her to her feet when the warming charm wore off and the Summerhouse began to cool. Before she could open the door he caught her around the waist and pulled her close. She laughed softly when he considerately wrapped his coat around her. He pressed his cheek to hers. Neither wanted to rush or risk the consequences of the wrong action at the wrong moment. Then he bent and laid his mouth gently on hers, his lips soft and damp. Arousal pooled between her legs and heat grew between in her heart. His proximity inflamed an explosion of unfamiliar feelings.
He caressed her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. She made a hungry little noise and buried her hands in his jacket, tugging him down. His tongue met hers, stroking a slow, patient pattern that made her flush and weaken. She gasped, losing any sense of control of the kiss as he tasted her tongue and nibbled her bottom lip, bringing it artfully into his mouth to be suckled and sensitized. She gave a soft, eager moan as he twined his tongue languidly with hers, suggesting a wealth of carnal experience that she definitely couldn't match yet. He felt as though he had no need to rush. That turned her on more than Ron ever had. Her knickers were soaking.
'I won't take advantage,' he whispered, with a hand on either side of her face gently. He regarded her with kissed, pink lips and appreciative grey eyes.
He buried his hand wordlessly in her loose curls and pulled her against his chest, his arms tight and reassuring. She breathed in his scent and stood like that until the urgent throbbing between her legs turned into a pleasant ache.
'Shall we take a little cold air?' he asked with a smile.
Lucius waited for her beside the water. When she joined him, smiling a little nervously, he offered his hand warmly. She slid her palm into his and walked close to his side back to the Manor.
'Don't you think this is insane?' she finally said, her happiness shining through her doubts despite her best intentions.
His arched eyebrow was a silent question.
'You...and me?' she said doubtfully. 'If anyone saw this...they'd think we're both completely crazy!'
Lucius gazed at their joined hands. Silently, he lead her into the study, where Misty had crafted a roaring fire for their return. The sound of pouring liquid and the crackle of flames was the only break from silence. Lucius handed her a glass of her favourite Port and sat delicately down beside her.
'Perhaps,' he began tentatively, 'We should both have a drink,' he clinked his glass gently against hers. 'When we're both quite drunk, we'll retire to our rooms and in the morning,' he arched a single brow, 'we'll either be rather close acquaintances...or something more, yes?'
Hermione nodded with a smile and sipped her drink, resolving not to take too much alcohol tonight, lest she wake up and forget they kissed at all.
Before she left to go to bed, Lucius offered an open arm. She accepted the silent invitation. Their lips met in a brief, soft kiss.
'Goodnight,' he murmured tenderly, against her mouth.
'Goodnight,' she pulled away.

oOo
Hermione woke to the smell of breakfast and roses. Misty had obviously left the kitchen door open again. There was a perfect white rose laying beside her on the spare, silky pillow. There was a tiny scroll wound around the stem. She pulled it loose tentatively, her heart thumping in fear of what she might find. It was quite silly but she felt his rejection at this point would really hurt.

Lest you think me a cad.

Respectfully yours, Lucius.
She laughed in relief.
She was nervous at breakfast, unsure of what to say or how to behave. Their sudden intimacy had changed their familiar dynamic. Her heart felt a bit too delicate for his sarcastic personal attacks, though she didn't want to admit that to herself yet. Lucius placed his warm, dry hand on the back of hers. His grey eyes were friendly. God, he's handsome, she thought. I fought so hard not to see it before. He wore the trademark Malfoy smirk, though this time it more closely resembled a smile than a tool for her humiliation.
'How did you sleep, Hermione?'
She exhaled a slightly shaky breath.
'Fine,' she smiled. 'I think I had a bit too much to drink though, to be honest.'
He arched a brow in wry agreement. He warmed a little patch of skin just behind her knuckles with the paper-dry caress of his thumb-tip. She sensed he meant it as a gesture of respect and reassurance.
'Did you?' she echoed.
His eyebrow made another ascent. He wasn't venomous this morning. Dry, perhaps. She could see he had the potential to be very witty and certainly extremely moody when irked.
'A little too much to drink,' he confessed. Then he smiled drily. 'I'm sure I'll live. As usual.'
She held up the white rose a bit nervously and to her horror, began to blush. She stumbled over her words.
'I-Thank you. It's actually...my favourite colour.'
'I hope you don't think me too forward?' he enquired mildly.
'No,' she shook her head.
His fine, aristocratic brow furrowed in mild concern.
'I'm sure I've never seen you go so shy, my dear.'
Hermione closed her eyes softly in embarrassment. She smiled at her own reaction.
'Don't,' she teased. 'You'll just make it worse.'
He smiled gently. 'Though I appreciate it could take some time for you to realise it, you needn't be shy with me.'
He patted her hand gently and gestured to her plate. 'Bon appetit, Kitten.'

TBC
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Xeoforce Equation