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Accidental Blood Bond	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 45430 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Harry Potter, no characters no magic, none of the story and I make no money from this!!

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
After their little excursion to the sushi restaurant, Lucius and Hermione found themselves making a few more discreet public appearances together.

A few people that recognized Lucius’ face, glared in his direction, only to meet the fierce look on the petite witch by his side. Lucius had been amused yet touched by her over protectiveness, but had to concede that Hermione could be downright scary if she needed to be.

More than once she’d sent someone skulking on their way with a mere look, and he laughed afterwards and commented that she’d been around him too much.

“Between dealing with you and Severus, I have no reason to not have perfected the art of cutting someone down with a mere glance,” she commented.

To everyone else that was oblivious, the two just looked like any other couple in the Wizarding world. The older, fastidiously dressed wizard displayed the utmost chivalrous behavior towards the younger witch, whom clung onto his arm and was unable to keep herself from smiling whenever she looked into his face.

The two hadn’t exchanged words of a deeper commitment, but Hermione knew that Lucius would have shaved his hair off before he drew himself down on one knee, wildly proclaiming his love for her like an Adonis in a Muggle romance novel.

The thought of his doing such a thing actually made her snort with laughter one evening. Lucius was the epitome of masculine beauty in those silly books, with his long, pale blonde hair, chiseled features and perfect body. And, of course, the men were always richer than Midas in those books, as was Lucius.

Hermione found that she didn’t mind Lucius’ reserved manner when it came to matters of the heart. His behavior towards her was vastly different than when they were first reunited. Even when they weren’t naked and joined together at the hip, his hands always found a way to touch her. In public and private, his fingers always found their way in her hair or brushing against the nape of her neck.

At night they were always wrapped around one another, which was nearly necessary for Hermione to stay warm. The man had an unending supply of body heat but still managed to yank the covers from around her.

She complained relentlessly one evening, even going so far as to walk back to her own room, still stark naked. Hermione had buried herself in her covers and was about to fall back asleep when she felt Lucius slip beneath the duvet and press his body against hers.

“I’m going to charm my duvet into place,” she threatened him sleepily, murmuring when his lips pressed against the back of her neck.

“Miss Granger, I think it’s time you took your leave,” Severus told her.

Hermione looked up from the table where she was sitting, squeezed between a cluster of first years. She was helping them with their Transfiguration homework.

The students immediately shrank back in fear when they saw their dark headmaster looming over them, marginally relaxing when they realized he was talking to their tutor.

“I’m fine, Professor. Honestly,” she reassured.

The truth was Hermione felt a bit knackered. For the past few weeks she’d been at Hogwarts helping students prepare for their exams. The younger students were easier to deal with, even if they all clamored for her attention - which she promptly gave.

The seventh years, particularly the young men, were a bit more audacious. During a morning study session, Severus had walked up on Hermione and a student named Riley Smythe that was in Slytherin. Smythe had messy hair the color of cornsilk and green eyes, which he loved to use to his advantage towards any unsuspecting witches.

The lad was smart but lazy, and Severus suspected he was now playing dumb merely to sit next to Hermione. He was pretending that he was unable to grasp a simple concept that Hermione had patiently explained over and over. Hermione was unaware that Smythe had been inching his way closer towards her, as if he was intending on chatting her up instead of seeking her tutelage.

Smirking, Severus went over to the two and grabbed the young man up by the back of his robes. “Five points from Slytherin for wasting Miss Granger’s time,” he drawled. “Now take your books and find an empty table. I think you need some alone time to mull things over.”

The young man skulked away reproachfully, leaving a speechless Hermione behind.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked Severus with a puzzled look on her face.

“I doubt it,” he replied before walking away in a flurry of black robes.

It was three hours later that Severus returned to find her with another group of students. While he admired her tenacity to help with the students, particularly considering that she wasn’t being paid to do so, Severus knew he would never hear the end of it from Lucius if the girl became ill on his watch.

“But we’re nearly done,” she’d protested.

The headmaster silently stepped forward, grasping Hermione by the cuff of her arm and pulling her up from the bench. “You look as if you’re about to fall into a heap at my feet,” Severus commented as they walked towards his office. “The headaches haven’t returned, have they?”

“No,” Hermione answered honestly. “Maybe I just need to catch up on sleep.”

One corner of Severus’ mouth lifted slightly. “Long nights, Miss Granger?”

Hermione immediately blushed, realizing that her comment sounded like an innuendo.

Once they’d made it to his office, Hermione stepped into the hearth holding onto a handful of Floo powder.

“Send your wizard my regards, and tell him that you need your rest,” she heard Severus say before she was yanked back into a whoosh of green flames.

Lucius had roared with laughter that night after Hermione passed along Severus’ message, but he did agree that Hermione looked tired.

Tipsy had brought their dinner to Hermione’s sitting room. Lucius insisted that she eat every last bite, only appeased when her plate was clean.

After finishing their meal, Lucius filled up Hermione’s bathtub, pouring in an ample amount of cocoa scented bubble bath. He’d climbed in the water behind her, commenting that the water smelled like the chocolate biscuits she baked.

Hermione had twisted round in Lucius’ lap, attempting to straddle his hips. To her chagrin he swatted her ass making water splash about, telling her to be a good little witch.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” he said.

“You will be relaxing me,” she protested, sinking back against his wet chest.

“Listen you bossy little witch, you can have your way when you’re feeling better,” Lucius said, pushing Hermione slightly forward to retrieve a bottle from the side of the tub. “For now just settle down.”

After uncapping the bottle, Lucius poured a thin stream of shampoo into Hermione’s hair and worked it into a lather. Hermione nearly came undone at the sensation of his fingers digging into her scalp. She hadn’t had to tell him how to wash her curls properly; keep the shampoo on her scalp and not her ends as they’d tangle up.

“How do you know what to do with curly hair?” she asked after he’d put in the conditioner and began finger combing out the snarls.

“When I courted Narcissa and visited her home, I was always subject to watching Bellatrix doing something to that ratty hair she had. Of course she still looked disheveled afterwards. I always wanted to ask her what was the point if she was going to look the same afterwards but she was barking mad and would most likely have hexed my balls off.”

Hermione wryly laughed, recollecting just how insane the dark witch was.

Once they were out of the bathtub and dried off, the two were nude and laying across Hermione’s bed.

“I still say that this is relaxing,” she murmured, running a hand down Lucius’ bare chest and over his stomach. Moving her hand down further, she traced along the thin line of hair beneath his navel, sliding until her she was gently fisting his already stiffening cock.

“You play unfairly, witch,” Lucius groaned, thrusting upwards slightly.

“I play to win, Lucius,” Hermione replied. “Sound familiar?”

He hissed softly when her finger softly dragged against his balls, gliding up his now erect shaft. “You’d better tell me if I do this wrong,” he suddenly heard Hermione say, feeling her move down between his legs.

“Merlin forbid you aren’t perfect at something-damn!” he hissed, his words cut short when he felt her warm mouth enclose on the head of his cock.

Lucius was rendered completely speechless as Hermione tentatively moved her tongue across his shaft. She was only able to take a few inches in her mouth, but seemingly knew to not let her teeth graze him.

His entire body sank back into the bed, one hand moving down to gently fist Hermione’s curls. Where she lacked in experience she more than made up by displaying a matched enthusiasm.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one to make you relaxed,” Lucius said, forcing himself to keep from thrusting up further into Hermione’s mouth.

“Well I tried, but you kept denying me,” she murmured. “So now we play by my rules.”

“That’s what you think,” he replied, removing his hand from her hair. “Come here.”

Hermione let go of Lucius’ cock and moved to his side. He pulled her on top of him to straddle his face, her face eye level with his erection. Before she could protest she felt his mouth on her clit, two fingers gently pressing inside of her and his other hand holding her body in place.

Not wanting to give Lucius the upper hand, Hermione took his cock back in her mouth, able to take more of him at the new angle. He groaned at the contact yet was still able to hold his ministrations steady.

Lucius would have chuckled had he not been so preoccupied. He knew just what was going through Hermione’s mind. She didn’t realize it yet, but Lucius had already known spots on her body that even she hadn’t discovered. Hermione responded so ardently to his touches that he could bring her the brink of orgasm within minutes if he wished.

Deciding to prove his point right then and there, his fingertips sought about the bundle of nerves that was a mere couple of inches away from her entrance. Pressing down on it with just enough pressure, his lips and tongue still employed over her stiffened clit.

He was immediately rewarded with a sharp cry, her hips writhing harshly over his face.

“Lucius!” Hermione screamed her head now buried against his thigh.

Still keeping his movements steady, Lucius felt her walls clamping down on his fingers, slick juices running down his hand. Without warning Hermione burst into an orgasm so strong she nearly saw stars.

When her body finally stopped trembling, Lucius pushed against her hip, gesturing for her to lie down.

“My feet will happily await your lips in the morning,” he said, covering Hermione’s body with his.

“What?” she asked dazedly, their earlier conversation coming back. “Oh shut up, Lucius.”

Hermione was barely able to catch her second wind when she felt his tumescent length pressing inside of her. Digging her fingers into the sinews of Lucius’ shoulders, her hips met his every thrust until another climax tore through her.

“Oh god,” she moaned breathlessly, moving a hand up slightly to tug at Lucius’ head. “Kiss me.”

Gladly obliging, Lucius lowered his head, slipping his tongue between Hermione’s parted lips. His hands had simultaneously moved to her legs, pushing them back until her knees were alongside her chest.

Hermione moaned incoherently against Lucius’ mouth when he began thrusting inside of her again. The head of his cock was pressing deliciously onto the spot his fingers had earlier sought out, causing her walls to clamp down. Another orgasm soon coursed throughout her body, causing her to shudder uncontrollably.

Lucius paused momentarily to look down at Hermione. Her curls were damp and sticking to her face, and her entire body was flushed. He gently ran a hand across her heaving chest, caressing down to her stomach.

Momentarily stilled by his caresses, Hermione felt Lucius place her legs over his shoulders, her ankles at his ears. He then slid his arms beneath her shoulders, clutching onto them firmly before straightening out his entire body.

“Don’t you let me fall!” she quipped, realizing that her head was close to dangling off the edge of the bed.

“I would never,” Lucius reassured. He then braced Hermione against him and used his entire weight to thrust inside of her.

Hermione’s eyes immediately widened, her sharp outcry filling the room. “Wait!” she yelled, the new position almost too much for her to handle.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she answered, her fingers digging into the sheets. “It’s just…more intense this way. It felt like I was going to explode.”

“That means I’m doing it right,” he replied with a wink.

“What-Lucius!”

Hermione’s words were cut short as he began thrusting inside of her again. If her first time was the painful end of the spectrum, this was the complete opposite. With his hands on her shoulders, Hermione was unable to even move a scant inch to escape the almost too pleasurable sensation.

Moaning his name like a litany, Hermione felt his cock stretching and rubbing against her walls in a nearly tormenting manner. Her moans culminated to a loud shriek as Lucius pounded against her relentlessly.

Their bodies were dampened with sweat, the bed was wet beneath them but all Hermione was able to focus on was her acute pleasure that was fast mounting.

“Lucius!” she keened, drawing his name out in sweet agony. Her hands were clawing at the sheets as her entire body shuddered violently, between her legs bursting into that delicious throbbing heat again.

Hearing his name in such dulcet tones more than did it for him; Lucius erupted into her snug heat while groaning like a man possessed.

Their bodies still joined, Lucius shifted one hand from beneath Hermione’s shoulder to graze his thumb over her perspiration dotted forehead.

Her amber eyes opened slightly and finally focused on his face.

“I love you,” she murmured breathlessly, her eyes crashing shut as her body fell completely slack beneath his.

Hermione stirred slightly the next morning, feeling something brushing against her skin.

“Good morning,” she heard Lucius’ husky voice greet.

Opening her eyes, Hermione found that she had slept on her stomach sprawled out in a manner that usually befitted Lucius. The duvet was still on the bed and draped over her hips, exposing the curve in her back where Lucius had been gliding his fingertips over.

“Hello, darling,” Hermione yawned, turning over and resting her head against Lucius’ bare shoulder.

“I had half a mind to wake you up by pressing a foot against your lips,” he said, pressing a kiss onto her forehead.

“Did I really pass out?” Hermione asked, cringing when she heard Lucius chuckling. “Honestly, that is so cliché.”

“Cliché or not, I watched your eyes roll into the back of your head and felt your sweet little body go limp beneath me.”

“You are taking entirely too much joy in this.”

“I’d be a liar if I said that I wasn’t.” Lucius brought his arm around and traced around Hermione’s nipple. “I’m more than willing to render you unconscious again. Just let me know when and where.”

“One day I’m going to make you pass out and then take the mickey out of you,” she grumbled.

Lucius laughed heartily, his body shaking against Hermione. “Now that I’d love to see,” he chortled.

Hermione lightly kicked Lucius on the shin beneath the duvet. “I wonder what time it is,” she mused. “I told Ginny I’d visit the Burrow today.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

“Yes, and even so, you know Mrs. Weasley does nothing but coddle all of us. She’d most likely bind me to a chair and force soup down my throat.”

“Very well. Now, I know you feel the need to appease your friends, but if you feel out of sorts come straight back home.”

“Yes, Lucius. And to think you call me bossy.”

Not wanting to experience the sickening pull of Apparation, Hermione made her way to the Burrow using via Floo. Soon as she stepped foot out of the hearth, Mrs. Weasley was fussing over her.

“You’re looking peaky dear!” the red headed matriarch clucked. “Are you and my hard-headed son still put out with one another?”

“Well…”Hermione trailed off, trying to remain diplomatic.

“Think nothing of it, dear. I know my own son!” she continued. “Ginny’s in her room; I expect she’s waiting for you.”

After thanking Mrs. Weasley, Hermione made her way up the rickety steps. Ginny and Harry were perched on her floor, sharing what appeared to be a Quidditch magazine. They both looked up and smile broadly when they saw their friend in the doorway.

Harry patted the empty space next to him, which Hermione happily accepted.

“I’m surprised you two are alone,” she remarked.

“That’s because Lenore is here,” Ginny replied rolling her eyes. “She has quite the penchant for snogging at random intervals.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “If Ron only knew how often Ginny and I planned on interrupting them, just like he’s done to us countless times.”

“I told him I’d hex his wand off if he barged into my room again,” Ginny interjected. “I’m not thirteen years old, and he would do well to remember.”

Hermione laughed sympathetically. “Same old Ronald,” she mused.

*

The three were left alone in Ginny’s room until Mrs. Weasley called for them to come downstairs. Oddly enough, Ron hadn’t bothered to show his face for the first few hours of Hermione’s visit. She didn’t see the sulking ginger until she, Ginny, and Harry had clumped back down the steps. Mrs. Weasley was dashing about in the kitchen, rattling off instructions to the twins.

“Bill and Fleur are coming for dinner tonight,” she said. “There isn’t enough space for all of us in here, so I’ll need you to put out the long tables. And no dueling with them either!”

Ron had been skulking in a corner and was now attempting to slide out the back door with Lenore when his mother caught him. “Ronald, you and Lenore can make yourselves useful and set up the chairs,” she briskly instructed.

“What do you need me to do, Mrs. Weasley?” Hermione asked.

“Sit down and drink this,” she replied, shoving a steaming mug into her hands. “You may deny it, young lady, but you look puckish. I want to see that mug empty when I come back!”

Biting back a smile at being molly-coddled, literally and figuratively, Hermione sat at the breakfast bench and sipped on what tasted like fresh mint tea. Molly had pulled Harry and Ginny outside with her, and there was a slight ruckus issued from the back of the house.

Hermione was admittedly grateful for Molly’s insight; she hadn’t been able to eat much of her lunch and she was still a bit tired. But she hadn’t been to the Burrow since the falling out with her and Ron, and she missed the other Weasleys’.

The mint tea was lightly sweetened and enervating, and soon Hermione was sucking down the last drop. No sooner than she’d put the empty mug in the sink, Mr. Weasley came striding through the front door.

“Hello, Mr. Weasley,” she greeted.

“Evening, Hermione. Where’s the rest of the lot?”

“Still out back; the twins are setting up the tables for supper and Mrs. Weasley is overseeing. Something about not wanting them dueling it out with the tables.”

“Oh yes, those sons of mine,” he nodded reminiscing. “Last time they did that, there were bits of wood everywhere. At least it scared the garden gnomes away; I expect they thought the sky was crashing down with all of the commotion.”

Hermione laughed while making her way to the back door. “I’m going to see if they need any help.”

When Mrs. Weasley saw Hermione come outside, she immediately began her fussing again. After reassuring the matriarch that she’d drank all her tea and felt alright, she patted her on the cheek and went back inside of the house.

Ron and Lenore had finished setting up the chairs, the young witch grumbling now that Molly was out of earshot.

“I don’t know why I had to help,” she grumbled. “I notice your mum didn’t ask her,” she continued, gesturing at Hermione. “It’s nice that some of us have to work like a house elf while others get to skive off doing nothing.”

Hermione immediately felt her temper beginning to rise; luckily, Ginny swiftly cut in.

“Lenore, either stop acting like a silly twit or go home.”

“Ginny, don’t you order my girlfriend about,” Ron cut in petulantly.

“I’ll bloody well tell her what I want, since you’re obviously going to let her stand there and behave rudely towards Hermione.”

Lenore flushed a shell pink while Ron was immediately silenced, his baby sister having swiftly put him in his place.

“Come on,” he then gruffly said to Lenore, tugging on her wrist.

Fred and George, who’d been standing by to witness the little tiff, immediately came over and planked Hermione. They’d recognized the glare on her face and both seemingly knew how to placate her.

Finding herself laughing at the twin’s antics, the slight pall on the evening was soon forgotten.

*

Soon after Bill and Fleur had arrived, Mrs. Weasley ushered everyone outside, saying that she didn’t want their meal to go cold. Ron and Lenore sat huddled next to one another at the end of the table. They hadn’t made anymore snarky comments, however, Ron kept furtively glancing at Hermione when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Right before dessert was served, Harry called for everyone’s attention. Multiple sets of eyes turned towards his direction, curiously watching as he took Ginny’s hand into his own. After everything was said and done, he’d proposed to Ginny whom said ‘yes’, throwing her arms around his neck.

Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Fleur had grown teary eyed and were dabbing their faces with napkins, while Fred and George had cornered Harry off, pretending to play the role of threatening older brother.

Mr. Weasley had unearthed a bottle of wine, pressing a glass into everyone’s had to toast the newly engaged couple. There was an air of mirth about the group, especially after the wine had been served.

“I can’t believe Harry knew to get me the same ring you and I saw that day!” Ginny gushed after plopping down next to Hermione.

“Fancy that,” she replied with a little smile.

Just then, Fleur came over and immediately got into a spiel about planning the wedding. Hermione’s head had begun reeling, she supposed from the wine. She used the opportunity to excuse herself and went into the empty house.

After using the loo and splashing water on her face, Hermione made her way back down to the living room. She’d been resting on the couch, her forehead resting on both hands when she heard someone come inside.

“Honestly, Ronald,” she griped when he walked over and stood silently in front of her. “Shouldn’t you be off snogging Lenore?”

“Why, are you jealous?” he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

Hermione had begun massaging her throbbing temples. She paused when she heard the ridiculous notion fall from his mouth.

“Did you just say what I think you said?”

“Yes. Why else would you be asking about me and Lenore?”

“That was sarcasm, Ronald, in case you missed it. And it wasn’t even thinly veiled.”

“You’ve changed, Hermione. Even if Ginny and Harry don’t see it, you have.”

“It’s called growing up. Perhaps, you should try doing the same.

“Don’t give me that rubbish; you’re lying about something, and I want to know what it is.”

Hermione dropped her hands and looked up at Ron, throwing him a venomous glare. “You’re taking in awfully keen interest in my life. Why is that? Are Lenore’s conversation skills less than scintillating?”

“Oh come off it, Hermione. What’s going on with you? You only let Ginny come to visit you and her mouth is closed tighter than if someone cast a Silencing Charm on her.”

“Ron, leave me alone. I don’t care where you go just get away from me.”

“No, I think I’m rather comfortable here.” She looked up to see him perched on the arm of the opposite sofa, both arms crossed over his chest.

She looked up into his smug face, the brown eyes that used to twinkle boyishly now looking slightly hardened.

“I find it hard to believe that I once fancied you,” Hermione said. She began rubbing at her temples again, her fingers so stiff it felt as if she was going to wear a hole into her flesh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked, sounding affronted.

“It means that the nice Ron I used to know is now a first class swot!”

“What?!” he bellowed, the sound ringing Hermione’s increasingly sensitive ears. “That’s rich! I’m probably a damn sight better than this bloke you’re running behind. He’s got you so wrapped around his rich, little finger that you’ve become a bit of a snob, if I might say so.”

“What? What did you just say to me?”

“You’ve heard me. I know it’s you’re the reason that Ginny’s coming in here after every outing with you, bringing in a load of parcels as if she cleaned out Twilfit and Tattings. Mum asked her where everything came from and she said you, but I know better. You must be doing a hell of a lot with your new wizard if he’s forking over galleons by the lot for you and your mate.”

If Hermione had been able to see straight, she would have risen to her full height to promptly slap the arrogant look off his face.

“How dare you speak to me like that?!” she seethed. “You’re supposed to be my best friend and this is how you treat me? Just go, Ronald!”

“I live here,” he replied coolly. “If anyone is going to leave, it should be you.”

“Fine; I’ll leave. So help me, you’d better refrain from saying another word to me or I’ll hex you to the point that you’ll be unable to even think about shagging Lenore.”

With that, Hermione grabbed her sweater and wand that she’d placed next to her on the couch. The throbbing in her head now rivaled the one in her chest. Arguing with Ron had her blood racing and had she been feeling one hundred percent, she would have soundly berated him.

Knowing that a silent and hasty option was her best bet for all parties involved, Hermione hastily got to her feet. She’d taken three steps when the blood rushed down from her head.

Ron watched in silent horror as Hermione’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, causing her to fall face down in a dead faint.

Immediately he began to panic and found himself frozen into place. Right at that moment, Ginny and Harry whom were both holding hands, walked inside.

“What did you do to her?!” Ginny cried, running over to her friend.

“Me? I-I didn’t do anything!” Ron sputtered.

“What the hell happened?” Harry demanded, ire flashing in his green eyes.

“We were talking-alright we were arguing!” he admitted after both Harry and Ginny flashed him an angry look. “Then she said she was going to leave and got up, and then she passed out! I never touched her.”

“I’m sure that’s the abridged version but it doesn’t matter right now,” Ginny said curtly, cradling Hermione’s head in her lap. “Harry, go get Mum and Dad.”

Smoothing Hermione’s hair out of her face, Ginny was glad that she didn’t break her nose. “Why didn’t you catch her, you ass!” she spat accusingly.

Just then the entire family dashed into the house, bedlam breaking loose.

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Weasley cried, stooping down next to Ginny. “Ginny dear, fetch me a cool cloth,” she said, gently moving Hermione’s head to lie flat.

Ginny was back in a hurry, thrusting the cold rag into her mother’s hands.

“What happened?” Mrs. Weasley asked, pressing the cloth against Hermione’s forehead.

“Ronald said they were arguing, most likely he started with her, and said she fainted.”

“Ronald Weasley!” Molly all but shouted. “This girl wasn’t feeling well to begin with! She nearly looked dead on her feet when she came in or hadn’t you noticed? Why in the devil did you come in here and get into a strop with her!”

Ron was still standing perched against the sofa, feeling two inches high as he was soundly berated by his mother. Desperate to move out of line of his Mum and Dad’s disapproving glare, Ron stood up and walked over to Lenore, who’d been sulking and standing behind Fred and George.

Right then Hermione gave a small moan, her amber eyes cracking slightly to see Molly and Ginny hovering over her. She tried to sit up but felt too disoriented and slumped back into place.

“No, love, stay down,” Mrs. Weasley chided. “How are you feeling?”

Hermione furrowed her forehead slightly, wanting to speak but the pain in her head inhibiting her. “Ginny,” she managed to weakly utter, attempting to beckon her forward.

“Yes love, what do you need?” she asked. Hermione’s voice was so low that Ginny had to nearly press her ear to her mouth. Her brown eyes widened after she heard her request. “Are you absolutely sure?” she asked, her voice akin to horror.

Hermione weakly nodded her head.

“What did she say?” Mrs. Weasley asked, unable to hear what was exchanged between the two.

“Umm…well you’ll find out soon enough," Ginny answered skeptically. Before anyone was able to ask her where she was going she hurried over to the Floo and disappeared in a whoosh of green flames.

All Ginny could think was, luckily, the Floo had been across the house where no one would have been able to hear her call out for ‘Malfoy Manor,’ and also, what was about to ensue when Lucius Malfoy walked with her into the Burrow.
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Accidental Blood Bond