Chapter 14

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 beta...AmyLouise.

Chapter 14

The Manor

Kisses, her little kisses...sweet, sensual and intoxicating...were melting him. She made him tremble. Tremble! Lucius Malfoy, fifty-year-old man, trembled from the girl's soft kisses.

He stood in his private chamber with Hermione still in his arms. Wicked moonlight teased their senses and tampered with their sanity. It danced in Hermione's mahogany hair and shimmered in Lucius' silver eyes. Their magic was swirling and merging around them. A warm amber glow surrounded Hermione; cool crystals shone and sparkled around Lucius. The magic of the moonlight changed them, freed them from their doubts and worries. They were careless and sensual. There was no tomorrow, no future; only now, only them in each other's arms, only passion and fire.

Lucius released Hermione from his arms and ordered in a low growl, "Undress me."

She obeyed his order silently and readily. Slowly, she untied his cravat. Carefully, she opened every button on his many layers of clothes. Gently, she took them off one by one, savouring every minute of it. When at last she reached his bare flesh, a rapturous groan was torn from Lucius' throat. Hermione's fingers ravenously touched, coaxed, and caressed. His body mesmerized her; his scent intoxicated her; his smouldering gaze dazzled her. The sound of his frenzied breathing heightened her arousal.

Soon light touches weren't enough. Lucius slipped the silk robe from Hermione's shoulders and drew her to bed. There, for the first time in their short history, he allowed her to lead in their love dance. She laid him on his back and sat on his hips. He was hers. He had surrendered, submitted to her. Hermione's mouth was on him. Everywhere. She tasted him, devoured him, worshipped every inch of his body until Lucius grunted, his voice hoarse with urgency, "Now, Hermione. Take me into you now."

She positioned herself above him then, descending on him slowly, torturously, marvelling in the sensation of him sliding inside her, penetrating her. At last, Lucius' roar and Hermione's moan announced their unity, oneness. For a moment, it seemed that the world froze around them. Time stopped its running, and Earth halted its rotation. Hermione locked her eyes with Lucius, and they began their movements. The world was alive again. Time and Earth restarted their perpetual motion anew in unison with the lovers.

She was a vision, a siren. Lucius was lost, utterly, irrevocably lost. She was driving them both to the climax with such force, such passion. Later, he would dominate her again, and she would succumb to him more than once this night. Yet the ravishing image of Hermione on top of him...her rose-colored skin, glistening with perspiration; her amber eyes, half-closed in ecstasy; her cherry-red lips and wild curls; her full breasts and rounded stomach...would be engraved in Lucius' mind forever. Time and again they drove each other to completion and, eventually, to total exhaustion.

They lay in his bed in a tangled mass of limbs, silk sheets, Hermione's curls and Lucius' locks. Their exhausted bodies intertwined in every possible way.

"I should go," she said.

"Stay, nothing awaits you there, only a cold bed and grief. Sleep now."

Lucius' strong arms embraced her, and the steady thudding of his heart lulled her into slumber.

***********

Harsh, merciless sunrays awoke Hermione. She found herself alone in bed; Lucius wasn't there.

Confusion, guilt, despair, grief...morning brought it all. The elusive euphoria of the night evaporated, vanished with the first ray of sun. Unavoidable, unforgiving reality dawned on her. Dark, heavy thoughts flooded Hermione's mind. Not love! Traitor! They shouted in her head. The urge to run was overwhelming, forcing Hermione to hurriedly spring up from the bed.

The door opened and, fully dressed, Lucius walked into the room.

"Good morning."

His freshly shaved face didn't bear any signs of confusion or doubt...a soft, satisfied smile played on his lips. Nude Hermione froze in the middle of the room, desperately trying to locate her robe. The next moment, it appeared in Lucius' hand.

"Are you looking for this, my dear?" he murmured as he held it for her.

Hastily, Hermione dived into the robe and tightly wrapped it around herself. Sensing her uneasiness, Lucius carefully observed the woman in front of him. His smile faded, and a familiar coldness slowly crept into his features.

"You were going to run, Hermione, weren't you?"

"No." Hermione's honey eyes found his silver ones. "What are we doing, Lucius? What's happening? I don't know how to do this, how to behave, how to justify myself."

Hermione felt her lower lip began to tremble, and she bit it hard. Lucius' eyes caught that. He came closer to her and traced her lip with his thumb, wiping a tiny, ruby-red droplet of blood. Her lips parted from the unexpected caress. A soft sigh escaped her mouth, and instantly Lucius' lips were on hers. His tongue gently swept over her bitten lip, soothing it. Hermione's mind clouded again, and she almost lost herself to the sensation. Almost.

***********

Lucius was kissing her supple lips, knowing that in a minute she would push him away from her. Still, he couldn't resist. Without hesitation, he took everything her sweet mouth offered.

"Stop! Please, Lucius, stop." Her small palms pushed against him.

"We need to stop this, it's wrong. We both know that."

Anger began to stir in Lucius' heart. The girl did not know her place. She was his; he claimed her. He would not allow her to reject him like this.

"Ah, here come the Gryffindor morals." He smirked coldly. "Rather late for those, don't you think, Hermione?"

Hermione shivered from the ice-cold tone of his words. Understanding his growing anger, she pleaded, "You know we need to stop. Lucius, please, do not come for me anymore. Please, let me be."

"Are you trying to dismiss me, witch? No one dismisses me, no one."

A shadow of a wishful smile touched Hermione's lips, and she continued, "I cannot dismiss you, Lucius. I wish I could. Alas, I am too weak for that. I am begging you...just let me be, Lucius. Let me be." Her lips began to tremble again and her eyes filled with tears.

For a second, anger disappeared from Lucius' eyes and warm flecks of compassion flashed in them. Unconsciously, his hand rose to caress Hermione's face. However, the next moment, coldness returned, and he dropped his hand before it could reach her. He stepped back and uttered, "Very well, I'll do as you wish, Mrs. Weasley. I am sure you will find your way home. Goodbye."

And he was gone. He left Hermione be, just as she asked...alone, in tears and utterly heartbroken. With difficulty, she gathered the last shreds of her sanity and Flooed to her flat.

The moment Hermione landed at her living room, she was met with another angry voice. "Care to explain, Hermione?" The tone and furious green eyes indicated that Harry was seriously pissed off.

Yet Hermione, in her emotional and mental state, didn't notice that.

"Harry!"

She saw her best friend and launched herself onto his chest, showering him with stifled sobs, tears, and muffled complaints, and effectively robbing him of an opportunity to lash out at her.

Harry

When Harry hadn't found Hermione at home the night before, and then again, didn't find her at home this morning, he just knew she was with Malfoy. Emotions were boiling in his heart; he could barely contain himself.

However, now...when his best friend and, at the same time, the guilty party...was crying her eyes out in his arms, he was at a loss.

"Hermione, Hermione, what did he do? Tell me. I'll kill him, honestly!"

"No," came her muffled reply.

Thirty minutes later, on this Monday morning, showered, dressed and ready to face the world, Hermione sat in her kitchen.

"When did it start?" Harry reluctantly asked Hermione. He had mixed feelings about this...he needed to know the truth, and he didn't want to hear it.

"When Lucius saved me from Dolohov." Hermione noticed Harry wincing at her 'Lucius'. "We were slowly coming to it for weeks. We spent a lot of time together. Loneliness is a scary feeling, Harry; terrible, actually." For a while, they sat in silence, both of them deeply engrossed in their thoughts. Eventually, Hermione broke the silence with a sigh. "It's over now, no more."

"Over? Is it truly?" Harry gave her a sceptical glance.

Hermione nodded. "Don't give me that look, Harry, it is over."

"I won't pretend that I understand, Hermione. And I cannot put myself in your shoes either. Hence, if you say it's over, it's over."

"Thank you, Harry. Oh shit, I'm late for work!" Hermione jumped. In a hurry, she grabbed her handbag and was ready to leave when Harry's hand stopped her.

"Well, about that...it is a mad house in the Ministry. The press is there; you can imagine the rest. I have a Floo in my office. I think it would be better to go directly to my office, and then we can wait it out there. Mm?"

Hermione gave Harry's words a moment of consideration and then said, "No, I won't hide, Harry. I will arrive at the Ministry the way I always do."

Harry smiled, patted her shoulder and muttered, "I should have guessed as much. Ginny and the family are waiting for us there."

The Ministry of Magic

She is late.

Lucius stood in the Ministry's corridor. A dark niche safely concealed him from the public's eyes. He was waiting for Hermione's arrival, along with the press and a few dozen innocent bystanders. The fruits of his morning's efforts were already evident. All the right people were talked to and all the strings were pulled. Unsurprisingly, one by one, correspondents and representatives were disappearing. The crowd was rapidly thinning.

Suddenly, a wave of excited rumble rolled over the remaining crowd. At last, the main attraction had arrived. In a few seconds, Hermione came into Lucius' view. She walked through the corridor with determination. Seven Weasleys and Potter escorted her, forming a barrier between Hermione and the crowd.

The moment he saw her, his breath hitched and his mouth went dry. His hands kept squeezing the cane until it yielded with a discontented creak. An unexpected sense of admiration flooded Lucius' heart. She was magnificent...her eyes were alight; her untamed mane curled wildly around her face. She held her head high with pride, and her every step was full of grace and confidence.

Lucius drew a satisfied breath: here she was...his witch, his lioness, his new lady. Their morning rant didn't matter. Nothing mattered, he had decided. And once the decision was reached, there was no way around it. Eventually, she would be by his side. And if it was pursuit she wanted, then it was pursuit she would get.