Chapter 7

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. Huge thank you to my betas...Glorioux and AmyLouise.

Sunday, July 24

Hermione's Flat

Hermione spent all of Sunday in conflict with herself. Several times during the day, she seriously contemplated the idea of cancelling the dinner, but she knew that they needed a plan of action. Thus, staying home was out of the question.

It had been six-and-a-half weeks since Ron's death; somehow it felt like longer, and she was going to dine with Lucius Malfoy. Somehow, she felt like a traitor of the worst sort.

Hermione could neither entirely dismiss nor fully comprehend the feeling. On the surface, the dinner was nothing; it was not a date, not even close to that. Yet in her heart she knew that something was stirring between Malfoy and herself. Otherwise, the hot waves of anticipation would not have risen in her stomach every time she unconsciously touched the spot on her neck. The spot that Lucius had healed and then so softly caressed.

Hermione's sudden and unexpected awareness of Lucius Malfoy as a man concerned her enormously. It was easy before: first he was an enemy, then he was just another wizard of her acquaintance. Now, he had become an ally, a partner, and maybe something more than that. Was he a friend? Could she trust him? Hermione didn't have these answers yet. She felt lonely and confused.

Then again, there was another matter that had made itself known two weeks ago. Hermione had decided to keep it to herself until it became apparent to others. The knowledge of what was going to happen made her realize that she very much needed a vendetta, perhaps even more so than Malfoy. The most important thing for her right now was to get those bastards, and if that meant dining with Malfoy, she would go and dine with Malfoy.

In the end, it was as simple as that. Thus, at precisely seven o'clock in the evening, she stepped out of Malfoy's fireplace. She was wearing a simple dark blue jacquard fitted dress a la sixties with matching pumps. Her wild curls were pulled up.

Malfoy Manor

Lucius looked at the witch in amazement...she looked astonishingly sophisticated. The dark blue of her dress drew attention to her honey eyes and contrasted with her peach-hued skin beautifully. Delectable, he thought. Ah, and this delicate neckline, now open for viewing... Lucius was forced to take a calming, deep breath.

It's amazing how little you need to get quite, hmm, 'excited,' when you are alone with a young and extremely appetizing witch, Lucius chided himself.

The image from yesterday still haunted him: Hermione with her hair wet, wearing something awfully short (with her belly button out in public!), flimsy, and shamelessly transparent. He wasn't used to this kind of 'lingerie'. He wasn't even sure if that was the proper name for it. He had never seen anything of that kind on Cissa.

"That would be just ridiculous," he chuckled to himself and returned his attention to Hermione. He had a dinner to host. At that moment they sat in the Manor's grand living room and waited for dinner to be served.

"Would you like a glass of wine to whet your appetite, Mrs. Weasley?" murmured Lucius in a pleasant baritone.

"No, thank you. Just water please," answered Hermione.

Lucius cocked his brows at her. "Why? Does wine before dinner somehow contradict your beliefs or principals?"

"No," said Hermione, and dismissively waved her hand. "It's just... water is better for now."

"Hmm, how peculiar," muttered Lucius.

The moment the doors to the dining room opened, Lucius stood up and offered his arm to Hermione, which she accepted with a surprised glance. He escorted her to the table and helped her to sit down. By serving the dinner on a small, cosy table, the wizard ensured an intimate atmosphere, which he was decidedly aiming for. To his dismay, Hermione declined all his attempts to pour her a glass of wine, and Lucius honestly couldn't fathom why.

They ate and talked. They discussed their actions in case of an attack and decided that their plan should be straightforward: disarm, immobilize, and then send for Aurors. The point of Lucius' slight concern was Harry Potter's reaction, but Hermione reassured him that she would undoubtedly be capable of handling it. They also decided that from now on, Lucius should remain in Hermione's close vicinity to ensure his timely appearance by her side in the event of an attack.

After all immediate questions were answered and all decisions were made, their conversation strayed into the open philosophical field. Sure enough, Hermione took advantage of the first opportunity.

"It's interesting that you had such a significant change of heart during these recent years, Mr. Malfoy. You're paying your house-elves; you're cooperating with Harry Potter; you're even dining with me, a Muggle-born witch. Why did you change sides? What happened, Mr. Malfoy?"

As the question had left her mouth, she eyed Lucius with obvious concern. The wizard grinned; the little witch wasn't sure if she had overstepped the boundaries.

"Well, Mrs. Weasley, I didn't change anything. I simply quit," Lucius calmly explained. "Twice in my life I was foolish enough to choose sides. Moreover, I forced my wife and my son to choose with me. This mistake brought nothing but death and devastation to my family. I won't ever repeat that mistake again. I no longer belong to either side. I belong to myself. I am neither for nor against, Mrs. Weasley. Seven years ago, at the end of the war, I realized that I knew of nothing meaningful...only power, purity of blood, black, white, green, red. Everything was complete and utter bullshit. The only thing that mattered at the end was the survival of my family and my name. I am a Malfoy, and I am on my own side. I've done, and will do, whatever is good for me and the people I care about. I will fight and destroy anyone who dares to touch or harm anything that's mine, no matter from which side he is."

Lucius looked at the witch with interest. "Tell me, Mrs. Weasley, are you still stuck in your childish ignorance? Do you still believe that there are only white and black, right and wrong? Do you still not recognize hues and mixtures in the world, even after you found out the truth about Severus and Dumbledore? Or, perhaps, you finally learned that all your life you will be forced to choose a lesser evil. Mm?"

Lucius was intently watching Hermione. She looked taken aback.

"I am not a child, Mr. Malfoy, and I am not ignorant. I learned and experienced a lot during the war and after. I know that life isn't simple, and all colours in it are completely mixed together. Bad and good, right and wrong are braided so tightly together that sometimes it's hard to tell the difference. Yet I strongly believe that there are basic principles and guidelines all human beings need to follow, even if it's just for humanity's sake."

By the end of her speech, Lucius was smiling. The witch was exquisite in her passion.

"Bravo, Mrs. Weasley, once Gryffindor, always Gryffindor... But enough, I would like to show you the books that I think would be useful for your translation. Are you interested, Mrs. Weasley?"

Lucius stood up and offered his arm to Hermione again. This time she didn't hesitate, and they walked to the library.

Once there, Lucius made a welcome gesture and drawled in a soft murmur, "I've reorganized and moved the books that I thought you might find useful onto these shelves. Please, Mrs. Weasley, take a look."

The witch enthusiastically walked toward the shelves, and Lucius walked with her. He was observing with pleasure how her pink lips were whispering the titles of books, and how her delicate fingers were gently caressing the books' spines. Of course, his wandering gaze didn't stop there. Lucius was appreciatively taking in the lines of her profile and the soft curves of her neck and shoulders.

Eventually, observing wasn't enough anymore. The need to touch her softness and inhale her scent became extremely acute. He didn't fight it. He simply came closer and breathed her in; the scent of jasmine with a hint of vanilla and white rose filled his nostrils. One stubborn lock of hair, which was coiling free at the nape of witch's neck, caught his attention. He experimentally touched it lightly, and then, he daringly traced the curl with his finger.

Lucius sensed how Hermione froze under his touch. He was right behind her now; there were only a few inches between them. In one small movement, he crossed the distance and exhaled raggedly. Lucius could see how Hermione's fingers tensed on the shelf. He extended his hand and slowly traced the length of her arm, starting from the tips of her fingers, then knuckles, delicate, thin wrist, elbow, shoulder.

The witch began to tremble, but it didn't stop him. He continued by caressing her cheek, running his fingers down her chin and neck. Next, he pressed himself lightly into her petite body, giving her an opportunity to feel him. At this, the witch stopped breathing altogether.

Lucius marvelled in a pleasurable closeness for a few seconds; however, all too soon, the witch began to stir and he, to his chagrin, was forced to release her.

Lucius stepped back, and Hermione turned to face him. Her breathing was laboured, her cheeks were flushed with lovely pink, and her poor little lips were bitten to a deliciously red colour.

Mouth-watering, thought Lucius.

"So, Mrs. Weasley, what do you think?" asked Lucius, feigning indifference.

There was a brief silence. He could see clearly that the witch was conflicted; she probably couldn't decide how to proceed. However, after a moment of consideration, she answered as calmly as she could.

"There are many good books here, Mr. Malfoy."

"Did you find something interesting, Mrs. Weasley? The library doors will be open for you anytime, and my elves will be available to assist you," said Lucius, as he stepped closer to her.

His movement obviously startled the young witch and she hurriedly began to move toward the door while answering, "I'll think about it, Mr. Malfoy. Oh, look at the time. I really need to go now. Thank you for a very pleasant evening." And with that, Hermione made a hasty exit.

Lucius' grey gaze followed her thoughtfully. Slowly, he drew a deep sigh, shook his head and then Apparated away from the Manor.

A minute later, he appeared in the Malfoy family tomb. Lucius sat down near Narcissa's grave and groaned quietly, "Cissa, Cissa, what am I doing? Will you forgive me, Cissa? Forgive me, forgive me."