Chapter Three:

Chapter Three:

Lucius stared out at the night sky, and he was tempted to open the window to let in some of the night air. It was humid in the room, but for his intended purpose for that night, he kept it closed.

He heard the door clicking behind him and smiled as he kept his back to the person who entered. Lucius knew it was her. He had planned and plotted that it was going to be Hermione who entered his room tonight.

Lucius had wanted her to come here for some time, urged her, and pleaded with her to see that morals did not exist here. They were two people who could turn to each other in comfort to shade themselves from the bleakness of their existence.

She would not have it, and nor would he have her denial. It bothered him that she was doing this to him, pushing him away like everyone else he cared about in this world. He should not have been displeased by this, she was an inferior being, but he was, and it drove him nearly mad with rage.

It did not escape his notice that she was always in the presence of the elf or that Lovegood girl, and because of this, he was not able to touch her or to even speak to her. But, of all the times she had been alone before, of all the times he had been able to interact with her, he realised she had made it possible because she had wanted it to be so. Now that she was determined to push him away, he never saw her without one of them.

And the cunning girl was supposed to be a prisoner in my own home.

He wasn't really upset by her actions at all; in fact they had only seemed like a minor obstacle since he had known he would be seeing her tonight. He had planned for it to be so.

Avery had helped him a great deal today, even though he was not aware of it. Today, Avery had spoken his thoughts out loud regarding how he believed Potter was dead. Lucius contemplated this. He did not think about the boy being dead; at the time he couldn't have cared less. No, at that time he was thinking of her and of how he could weld her back to him.

He informed Bella, after Avery had left, that there was a rumour that Potter was dead. Since it would be only a matter of time before his body was recovered, she should have Narcissa start the preparations for a celebration.

Lucius had told her this because he had known Bellatrix would take this rumour to heart. She would not be able to hold herself back as she boasted that her master's nemesis was dead. This would also take care of Narcissa, as she would be far too busy preparing for the great celebration that would never take place.

He had known Hermione would be distressed when she heard the rumour. She would hear, of course she would, since Bella would not be able to contain herself. Bella would boast and torment the poor girl with the rumour that she took as the truth. Hermione may have her cellmates to turn to for comfort, but for answers she would have to come to him. And she did need to have her answers.

As expected, she had come to him. How, or why, she had been let out he did not know, and truthfully he didn't care because she was here. She shuffled into the room, shutting the door while he kept his back to her. Lucius waited for her to call out to him, but she didn't. He heard Hermione sniffling behind him, and he turned instantly at the sound.

Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and she stood there trembling with an expression of utter agony. He had expected that she would be upset, but to see her standing there like her heart was about to break troubled him. He had thought that the boy was only a friend, but from her appearance before him, he couldn't help but wonder if it were more than that. His brows furrowed together and, before he could speak, she cried out, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" he asked, playing ignorant with a voice filled with concern.

"She is saying that he's dead. Is it true?"

"Ah, I take it you heard."

"Is. It. True?" She practically yelled from the frustration of not getting a direct answer.

"It is just talk, Hermione." He said her name for the first time without noticing, as he was focussed on determining whether her tears were from losing a lover or a friend. Her name had escaped his lips without any forethought. "Bellatrix only hopes it is true."

"But. . . she seemed so sure he is. . . dead." She tried to speak as she cried, but she was failing miserably.

"Is the Dark Lord downstairs celebrating with her?"

"No."

"Do you not think he would be here to celebrate his death?"

"Of course. . . but she seemed so sure," she repeated again, but more to herself.

"Until his body is found, I will have my doubts." These words brought the expected hope into her eyes that he wanted. He wanted her to seek comfort from him, which would hopefully knock her determination to keep herself morally together.

Still crying, she rushed at him and threw her arms tightly around him. He gladly welcomed it and gripped her back with a suffocating embrace.

"You believe he is not dead?" she asked with her face in his chest.

Lucius sneered visibly, as she could not see him, but his hand remained gentle as he wrapped it into her hair, caressing the nape of her neck in a manner that was meant to be soothing. "Yes," he replied in a calm voice despite the sneer still etched upon his lips.

"Headmaster Snape believes there might be truth to it." She paused to sniff before continuing, "He said it was possible the people holding his body might be holding out for a reward."

Lucius smirked at this: The rumours have warped to this so soon. Snape must have been joining in the celebration, no doubt wanting to take credit for the boy's death. "What rubbish is this?"

"He just thought... that perhaps the people who had found him are holding his body until they find someone to buy it. He said it might be possible they don't want to deal with Lord Vol..." She stopped herself from saying his name and then continued on. "So they could be looking to sell his body to someone that will."

"An interesting theory, one I would expect from Snape," he said as he contemplated what the girl had told him. However, something bothered him, and before thinking, the words left his mouth. "Why is Snape telling you this?"

She pulled away from him then, sliding backwards until she was out of his reach. "He must have been trying to make me lose hope. . . But you believe he is fine, don't you?"

He nodded his head slowly and watched as a small smile crept to her lips.

"Will you hold me for a while? I just need to be held," she asked with her arms at her side.

Immediately, Lucius took her back into his arms, pressing her against his chest, yet he was not content to just hold her. The days without her touches had created a longing for more. He did not know whether by tomorrow she would reject him; all he knew was that she wasn't rejecting him now. She had come to him, most willingly, and he could not afford to miss this opportunity.

"Do they know anything about Harry?"

Lucius looked down at her and saw the worry in her eyes. "They do not know anything. There hasn't been a sighting of him since the night you were captured."

She nodded her head and then wiped her tears from her eyes.

A silence came over them, and Lucius took the opportunity to stroke his hand down her back. He was tempted to do more, but he hated to press his luck after she had finally decided to come back to him.

Her hand began to rub at his back, her fingers clutching the material of his shirt as she raised her hand toward his shoulder. She looked up at him, and he saw within her eyes that she was frightened. He had thought he had calmed her fears down slightly, but now she seemed just as frightened as she had been when she had first entered the room. Her hand slid to the nape of his neck, and with gentle pressure he felt her urging his head toward her own.

He did not hesitate for a moment and moved quickly to her lips. He was holding her so firmly that she was standing on her tiptoes, but she didn't seem to mind in the least; in fact, she was kissing much harder than he was.

Her kisses were brutal, but he thought it was only because she wasn't aware of how to kiss. Yet, as her teeth sunk into his lower lip, he realised this wasn't about her experience; she knew what she was doing.

Pulling away from her, he looked down at Hermione and saw the raw desire in her. The hatred and the desire were mixed together, which caused his loins to harden. If she wanted to play this way, he was willing to play back just as hard.

Cupping her head not at all gently, he forced her lips back to his own and continued to kiss her with such forcefulness he wondered whose lips would bleed first. Most likely his, as her teeth had already penetrated his lip. As he thought this, her teeth once again sank back in.

This was not really how he wanted her, after all.

Again, he pulled away, his lip still caught between her teeth, causing him to wince. "Don't do that," he chastened her softly because he did not want to scare her completely away, just calm her down.

"Why?" she dared to ask. "Isn't this what you wanted?" She was teasing him. The girl was actually teasing him with tears in her eyes and a playful smile upon her lips. The contrast was quite alarming.

"Be gentle." He scowled her with a nervous laugh. He was not sure what had come over her; her change of mood was not a turn-off, but it was unsettling.

Hermione started anxiously clawing at him again; her hands were now stroking his chest. She leaned up, kissing his jaw, his neck, running her tongue down his body in slow licks as she unbuttoned his shirt.

She apparently wanted him, and he thought that was all that mattered, despite her quick change in temperament. He let her continue to unbutton his shirt as he stroked her down her back in a gentle manner, hoping that this would urge her to be gentle.

When his shirt was open, and it was his turn to undress her, he did so gently. Kissing her in short, soft kisses, he leaned down to suckle her skin above her breast. When she groaned, they weren't groans of ecstasy, but frustration.

Hermione pushed him away and took a few steps backwards. "Don't. Don't do this gently. I don't want it like that."

"I don't want to hurt you," was all he could say.

She only glared at him and replied, "You won't."

She continued to undress herself. Roughly pulling the clothes from her body until, with a few short tugs, she was completely naked. She stood in front of him naked and without shame.

"I need you to do it this way." She wept as she said this and walked back to him to kiss him once again.

He no longer desired to have her this way, but he went along with it. Gripping her body, he began clawing at her while she brought her hand down to his pants.

In an instant, she was on the floor with him over her. He attempted to be gentle with her, despite her request, but when she raked her nails over his skin while lowering his pants to his thighs, he found himself being a little too forceful with her.

She arched her body up as he entered her, forgetting that she could have been a virgin because of his greed to have her, but thankfully she was not. As he thrust into her, he kept thinking of how he finally had her, and now there was completion.

His movements within her were harsh, hitting her with his hips for the hard fuck that she wanted. He wanted to make her happy, and as he heard her gasp and moan, he knew he was succeeding. Lucius did not open his eyes to look at her, being too engrossed with the feeling of himself within her.

Her hands on his buttocks pulled him forward, directing his movements as she jerked her hands back ruthlessly. He wouldn't last long, but there would be more times – he would make sure of it.

He started to force himself more deeply within her, unafraid of hurting her, even though she gasped with each stab.

Hermione shifted under him, causing him to move with her to keep himself from slipping out. Already, he could feel the burning of his knees from the carpet, so he quickly pulled her up so she was sitting on his lap. The move gave him enough time to adjust – to give him more time to enjoy her.

Thrusting up into her, he kissed her hard. He went deep, as deep as he could go.

Hermione bowed her head to his shoulder, and he could feel her trembling in his arms. To him, it was an indication she was coming. He wasted no time, urging himself to find release from the pent up frustration he had felt for the past year. He punished her body with upward thrusts that had now become erratic. With a long, loud grunt, he indicated to her that he had found completion, and that he didn't care who had heard him.

It never took Lucius long to re-group. A few short seconds at most, and when he brought his head down to kiss her head through the copious amounts of hair, she was still trembling. She had not been trembling from an orgasm as he had thought, no, she had been crying.

"Hermione?" he asked as he raised her head to look at him. He did not get an answer from her; as soon as she looked at him, she began to bawl. "Did I hurt you? I told you I didn't want..."

"It wasn't you," she sobbed. "Oh, why did it have it be you?"

He couldn't make any sense of what she had said. Maybe he never would, since he could not really make sense of why they were together at all. They had such hatred for each other for being who they were, and yet here they were, naked, with his penis slowly slipping out of her body.

He didn't know what to do, or what to say, and he could only watch as she brought her hands to her eyes to cover the tears that leaked down her face.

Lucius could only stand so much of this hysteria, so he moved, lifting her up as he stood and brought her to the bed. Her hands wrapped around him as he lifted her, and she continued to cry into his shoulder, even when he laid them both upon the bed.

When her cries became sniffles, she finally spoke, but only after she turned her back to him. "This will have to end."

"Why do you say that?"

"Don't be daft; you know it too."

He did. And yet he was not willing it to be so – not yet. Not when it was apparent to him that he needed this, needed her. He could find a way; he had always been able to find a way to get what he wanted before, but with her it meant that he would be losing a great deal. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to lose everything for her.

The next day, she was in his arms again while he moved slowly within her. Her lips were locked with his, their breathing ragged and shallow. Lucius had sought her out earlier that day, and he was glad she had not put up a fuss when he had suggested she come back to his room.

If anyone had asked, he would have said he was weak again and needed the girl's assistance, and it wouldn't have been a lie at all.

The night before, after she had left, he had felt a void without her; he had a need for her to stay with him. He never wanted to let her go, so he vowed not to. She could be worth losing everything. This world no longer cared for them, and they could find some small amount of comfort with each other if they were away from it all. Isolated and alone, he imagined a good life with her.

He could make her forget the boy, make her forget everything, and give her everything that she needed – as long as it was him.

He wanted to have her, and so he thought he would.