Chapter 16

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 16

Tuesday, September 27, 9:50 am. The Ministry of Magic, Courtroom # 7.

A murky, gloomy courtroom met Lucius and Draco with hollow, cold emptiness, producing shivers in both of them. They sat on the bench and waited in silence.

By request of all involved parties, Antonin Dolohov was given a closed trial. Therefore, there would be no press, no flashing photo cameras, no curious crowd allowed...only the victim's immediate family members, the Auror leading the investigation, and two key witnesses.

While the Malfoys were waiting, the room was slowly filling with people. One by one, all the Wizengamot's members walked into the courtroom and took their places. Harry Potter, the chief investigator, appeared shortly after them. Soon after his arrival, Lucius and Draco had the dubious pleasure of witnessing the unorganized, noisy entrance of the motley-looking Weasley clan.

There was, however, someone missing...one particular witch, to be exact. Lucius huffed in annoyance. With his eyes trained on the entrance, he was an epitome of rigidness. It was five minutes to ten, and Hermione still was not in sight.

Where is she? Uneasiness began to gnaw at Lucius' heart, and his mind began to draw unrealistically gruesome pictures of what might have happened to her. Thus, when at one minute to ten his long-awaited little witch finally stepped into the courtroom, Lucius let out a sigh of relief.

Hermione momentarily paused at the entrance, and Lucius immediately caught her eyes. Warm, liquid amber met shimmering, lucid silver. Their desperate gazes, hungry for each other, collided and merged violently. Both of them were trying to see through and to penetrate the armour and touch the soul of the other. Both were seeking for the signs; looking for affirmation that their suffering, longing, and craving was mutual. Sure enough, they both found what they looked for. Lucius unmistakably sensed the crumbled state of Hermione's resolve and her readiness to give up. Hermione clearly recognised Lucius' dire need and a burning desire for her.

The loud voice of the minister interrupted their moment. Kingsley Shacklebolt announced the beginning of the trial. Hermione reluctantly tore her eyes from Lucius' and hurriedly sat down on the nearest bench.

Violent intensity permeated the room...Dolohov was going to be brought to the courtroom in a minute. Lucius was calm and composed; he was quite sure that the outcome of this trial was already predetermined. On the other hand, it was obvious that the emotional state of his son was the absolute opposite of his own. Lucius could feel that Draco's nerves were taut as the string of a bow. The boy was extremely tense; his hatred towards his mother's murderer, whom he was about to see, was almost palpable.

Hence, the moment a chained Dolohov, clothed in prison robes, appeared on the threshold, Draco sprung up. He was already in mid-air jump to Dolohov's throat when Lucius managed to intercept him.

"Easy son, easy. Get a hold of your emotions, Draco. Do not make a spectacle of yourself," growled Lucius in a low mutter.

"That filth, that son of a bitch, should be dead," hissed the enraged younger Malfoy through clenched teeth.

"Yes, he should. However, he will slowly rot in the misery of Azkaban instead. I have come to think that it is a rather plausible alternative. Look at him, Draco. He is already half-dead. The rest is only a matter of time, son," uttered Lucius in a hushed whisper, trying to calm down the youth.

A pair of pavement-grey eyes focused on Dolohov's figure. The prisoner was chained to the chair in the middle of the courtroom, facing the members of the Wizengamot. His head was unnaturally crooked to the side; his wet lips were twisted in a demented smile; a thin trail of saliva trickled down his jaw. His mad, maniacal stare constantly shifted from one face to another.

"What the hell happened to him?" Draco turned to his father with puzzlement and disgust.

A pair of blond brows arched in the customary Malfoy manner, and a response sounded in a low, satisfied drawl, "Antonin had an unfortunate accident, Draco. He is probably still recovering."

Realisation dawned on the younger Malfoy and the smirk of understanding spread across his face.

"Father," drawled Draco with the slight nod of recognition.

"Son," Lucius gave a curt nod back.

The head of investigation was the first one to speak. He presented the case to the minister. After hearing Potter's presentation, Shacklebolt had a number of questions for the defendant. At this point of the trial, the head of the investigation stated that Antonin Dolohov had suffered from a brain haemorrhage, which had resulted in his loss of speech.

Unsurprisingly, this news was met with a satisfied murmur in the courtroom. There were even a few loud shouts from the Weasley family.

"You deserve this, bloody bastard!"

The commotion forced the minister to call for order. After peace has been restored, Dolohov answered the questions by shaking his head insanely. That being done rather quickly, the minister requested that witnesses take the stand.

Lucius was called first. He stood in front of the Wizengamot's members with his habitual aristocratic confidence and answered all questions in his calm, pleasant, and self-assured baritone. Ten minutes later, Lucius returned to his seat. Now it was Hermione's turn.

She got up graciously and walked forward. The silk of her light lavender robes draped beautifully around her body, clinging to her every curve. Lucius could not tear his eyes from her, even had he wanted to. The minister was asking Hermione questions, and she was answering him. Lucius, however, did not hear any of it. His full attention was focused on the music of her melodic voice, on the softness of her curves, on the beauty of her face. He missed her. He missed her terribly.

Was it amoral to think about another woman on the trial of the murderer of his wife? Yes, it probably was. Should he have stopped it? Yes, he probably should. Could he have stopped it? Yes, he probably could. Did he want to stop it? Hell no, he most certainly did not!

Lucius' eyes followed Hermione when she returned to her seat. The witch made a point of not looking at him during the trial. "No matter," he thought, "she will look at me later. I will make her look at me."

After Lucius and Hermione had given their testimony, there was only one thing left...the verdict. This part of the trial went exactly as expected. Antonin Dolohov was found guilty on all counts and was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. That was the end of it. The closure. The dead could not be returned, but now they were at least avenged properly.

The moment Shacklebolt announced the end of the trial and called the case closed, Draco hastily bade his goodbye and rushed home to Astoria. Lucius shook his head, gave him a mocking glance, and chuckled, "Who could have thought that a Malfoy would be so easily domesticated?"

He walked out of the courtroom and settled outside of it, waiting for Hermione. His eyes were once again glued to the door. At last, Hermione had said all her farewells and stepped into the corridor. She spotted Lucius immediately. However, she only gave him a slight nod and started to move through the Ministry corridors towards her office.

"Oh no, you don't," muttered Lucius and went after her. The enthusiastic beating of his heart accelerated in anticipation.

The hunt was officially on! The predator was ready to claim his prey.

He knew for certain that she was aware of his pursuit; he was hot on her heels. And yet the stubborn witch chose not to stop. That was even better; Lucius indeed enjoyed the chase very much.

The delicate scent of her perfume filled his nostrils. Her untamed curls flourished before his eyes. The fluid motions of her body stoked raw, scorching fire in his groin. And after a few minutes, he could swear he sensed her arousal in the air as well...or maybe he was just absurdly oversexed.

 "All right, that is quite enough," growled Lucius. With that, he snatched Hermione by the waist and dragged her into the first empty room he saw. Hermione shrieked but did not fight him.

Once the door was closed, and locking and imperturbable charms applied, Lucius turned his full attention to the slight witch in his arms. She was trembling and panting feverishly. Her back was pressed against his chest, and Lucius' arms held her tightly.

Lucius lowered his face into her curls and inhaled. For a moment he just breathed her in, marvelling in her closeness.

"Why did you run, you silly girl? What were you thinking?" he purred in her ear after a minute.

"You promised to stay away, Lucius. Why aren't you?" breathed Hermione.

Lucius pressed her to himself even tighter and began to nibble on her neck. Simultaneously, he ground his hips lightly into hers. They both moaned from the friction. And yes, now Lucius was absolutely certain that he sensed Hermione's arousal in the air.

"Why should I, Hermione? I desperately want and need you. You, quite obviously, desperately want and need me. So, why should I stay away? Could you please explain it to me? Because I cannot comprehend that." Lucius' murmur vibrated against Hermione's neck.

His deft fingers began to swiftly undo the buttons on her robes, and shortly both of his palms covered Hermione's sensitive breasts. She moaned again and arched into him, causing him to grunt. Encouraged by Hermione's responsiveness, Lucius covered her neck with open-mouthed kisses, leaving a wet trail on her bare skin. One of his palms ventured lower to caress her abdomen while the other fondled her breasts and pinched her nipples gently.

Alas, his content was short lived. Suddenly, Hermione untangled herself from Lucius' hands. She turned to face him, drew a heavy sigh, and said, "You are asking why, Lucius? Look at me; look carefully." And with that, she tore open the folds of her lavender robes and exposed herself to him.

"I am almost five months pregnant, Lucius! I am carrying another man's child! Aren't you repulsed? You should be repulsed; you are a Malfoy for God's sake! How could you possibly want me...a pregnant, Muggle-born witch? What could you possible need from me?"

Lucius froze, taking in the sight of her. Her stomach was more rounded and more prominent. Her breasts were heavier. She looked much more pregnant now and was absolutely, utterly, positively, breathtakingly beautiful.

"Repulsed? Repulsed, you said." The sound of his ragged breathing filled the room.

With a predatory growl, he closed the distance between them.

"Let me show you exactly how repulsed I am."

In an instant, Hermione was pushed up against the wall. Lucius was all over her: kissing, licking, biting, touching, caressing every inch of her body. He was taking, breathing her air right out her mouth. His lips were everywhere. His hands were everywhere. He took her by storm, attacking and overwhelming all her senses. While controlling her every breath, he seized her every attempt to fight and overpowered her every will. Until eventually, she gave up and succumbed to the maelstrom of sensations and desire.

Her arms snaked themselves around his neck then. Her lips opened for him, granting him an entrance. Her legs wound themselves around his waist, pressing him closer, even closer to her, and she let out a beautiful, melodic cry of surrender.

And he knew then, that he had won. She was his forever. Forever...no less. Lucius Malfoy will see to it.