Two

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I'll never pull a Vander Arse on JKR.

"Does the name Edwina Wilson mean anything to you?" Lucius asked her, watching her face.

Hermione looked up. "Edwina Wilson," she said slowly, "is the one who swapped jobs with me in order to introduce new technologies for MLE..." When Lucius nodded, a thought hit her. "Are you saying Ron has been fucking her behind my back?" The thought was preposterous.

"Obviously behind your back," Lucius drawled, and Hermione glared at him. "I've seen them together, and despite my questionable past as a Death Eater, people still tell me things. You know yourself that the Minister pretty much follows Potter's and Weasley's advice...has done for years. So, when Weasley put it to him to swap jobs between you and Wilson, he simply did as told without questioning it."

Hermione felt as if hit by a Bludger. She was glad she was sitting down already. "The bastard," she whispered. "And I thought he'd had the courtesy to wait for Hugo to attend Hogwarts to make it easier on the children..."

"That possibly too," said Lucius. "But from what I gathered, he'd been planning it for a while, and it just happened to work out splendidly for him."

"Fuck," uttered Hermione. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Now, now, Miss Granger, no need for obscenities," Lucius said, one eyebrow raised. "It is nothing you can't deal with, now that you know the truth." He met her eyes, and she looked at him blandly.

"What can I do? It's not as if I want him back. The last year was hell for me, and I really have no interest in being with him any longer. I'll have a job keeping any meetings civil for the children's sake."

"I'm glad your taste in men has improved," Lucius said wryly. His face turned serious again before he continued. "There is another, possibly far more worrying, matter."

Hermione groaned inwardly. She'd been too uncomfortable facing the possibility her suspicious mind had discovered just weeks after she'd arrived in Phoenix. But Malfoy wouldn't be of course. "Let me guess: the technology invites abuse."

"So you've noticed." He looked satisfied.

Hermione snorted. "How could I not? I've spent the last three months learning how beneficial it all is, how to put tracks on potential troublemakers without them ever knowing, how to listen in to private conversations. I would be stupid not to notice the potential for abuse there.

"Initially, I was rather impressed with all this technology can do." She pointed at the computers on her desk. "But seeing how I could bust someone like Ron, who's done nothing illegal but likely accumulated plenty of potential for blackmail, simply by tracking any wizard or witch, just imagine how great this would be for someone of a mind like Voldemort's."

Lucius nodded. "Considering how we've always looked down on Muggles because they handed total control to their governments from the day they're born, I'm quite surprised so few wizards recognise the new measures for what they are. You can't deny that you see more than mere potential for abuse, Miss Granger, can you?"

Hermione glumly shook her head. "No." She sighed. "At least our banks are still in the hands of the goblins or else the Ministry might introduce the equivalent of microchips and a near-cash-free society like they did with Muggles..." Even to her own ears her words sounded lame.

"Well, I'm glad you've cottoned on to it," Lucius said, standing up. "I have every intention of finding out who exactly is behind this idea. No offence to Mr Weasley's intelligence, but I doubt he is more than a pawn in this." He looked at her questioningly.

"True. He is a lot of things, but I've never known him to be interested in taking over the wizarding world." She took a deep breath. Former Death Eater be damned. If Malfoy came to her, a Muggle-born, the situation must be worse than she hadn't dared imagine. He'd be an ally, at least for now. "Look, if there's anything I can do to get to the bottom of this..."

"Indeed, there is. I'm acting on a hunch here, but Edwina Wilson's husband is a Muggle with... old money. Care to dig a little deeper, since you're the one with all this wonderful technology at your fingertips?"

She could do this. It wasn't as if she reported to anyone but the Minister, and he was a few thousand miles away. And Wilson was a common enough name to not arouse suspicion should anyone have the audacity to sneak into her office and check on what she was doing. She would have to become friendlier with the staff, not merely courteous so she could find out more about her predecessor. About whoever introduced the new technology.

"Yes. I'll see what I can find out. How do I contact you?"

"An owl will find me. And..." he lowered his voice, "should you find yourself in dire circumstances, go to Taliesin West and say my name. No need to shout it, simply speak it. Then say the name of my grandson, and you will be given access." Increasing the volume of his voice to normal once more, he suggested, "Why don't we meet for dinner in a few days?"

Later, Hermione had no idea how exactly she'd gone from being suspicious of Lucius Malfoy to looking forward to spending an evening with him in the course of less than an hour. She blamed it on his mention of Taliesin West, the masterpiece of an American architect, a Muggle as far as she knew. Very unlike Lucius. It could not have been just because of a mutual suspicion of the reasons for introducing draconian technology; although that helped. Whenever she'd mentioned the potential for abuse to any staff members, she'd been met with wide eyes and a surprised, "That would never happen in the wizarding world," followed by detailed rants how the Muggles had allowed their governments to dumb them down systematically over past decades before casting the final strike that aimed for complete control of every individual.

Maybe it was simply because Lucius was a familiar face and, more so, a familiar accent in a foreign environment. Back in London, she'd seen him occasionally at various Ministry functions, each time with a new witch on his arm after he'd stopped mourning for his late wife.

Hermione woke up and stretched. Sunday. Yes! I don't have to get up. Lucius would come by in the afternoon, and they'd probably go and eat out somewhere. He'd spent a few days in London, but had promised he'd return today, hopefully with some news.

Hermione's life had taken a drastic turn since Lucius had walked into her office nearly a month before. To the better, despite the worrying information they'd been able to unearth. Rolf Wilson, Edwina's husband, she'd found out, came from a family who appeared to systematically seek to mate with at least one witch or wizard in each generation. He had an aunt who was a witch, a great-uncle who was a wizard, another great-great uncle who was a wizard, and it went on and on for nearly 800 years into the past. Hermione was amazed his genealogy went this far back; the few people she knew to have an interest in the subject were always lamenting the fact that they could not trace back further than two or three-hundred years. The Wilson clan also seemed to consist of many trouble-makers. One had been hanged in England for attempting to poison Prime Minister Earl Grey in 1831. A sister of Rolf, Serena, was doing time for drug dealing. One of Rolf's uncles was rumoured to have killed his wife, although the case had been closed soon after the event, due, allegedly, to lack of evidence. Hermione concluded that it was a strange family indeed and would justify further investigation.

She heard a knock at the door and went to open it. "Lucius! Great to see you again! How was your trip?" Spending time with Lucius had become the highlight of her days lately. He never failed to entertain her, be it with intelligent conversation or his sense for adventurous outings to wizarding establishments all over the American West.

Lucius bent down and pressed a kiss on her cheek, flustering her. "Hello, darling. I'm glad to be back, to be honest. It was cold and wet and crowded, just as one would expect London to be in February, and I never did manage to see Kingsley."

"But the tea is still good, right?"

"Oh, the tea was wonderful, yes." He looked at her with predatory eyes. "But nothing in comparison to this sight."

Hermione felt blood rushing to her face as she looked down her body. Modest, royal blue pyjamas, clearly designed for comfort, dotted with vividly green frogs. "Had I known you're back early, I'd have taken my lace out." It was meant to sound tart, but even to her own ears it sounded more like a confession.

"Ah, well, if that's what your plan was..." He looked at her appraisingly. "How about...?" A flick of his wand left her completely naked. And speechless. "Much better." He lifted her effortlessly and carried her straight to the bedroom.

"Lucius, what do you think you're doing?" Hermione had enjoyed these past few weeks flirting with him on every occasion. It had been the best therapy to improve her self-esteem after having been left by Ron for another woman. However, Lucius had never before indicated that his interest might go beyond outrageous flirting.

"I don't need to think what I'm doing, young lady."

She snorted. "Young. Right... I guess compared to you, I am young," she allowed, trying her utmost best to sound serious.

He laid her on the bed in a manner one would place valuable china on a table. "And cheeky. An enticing combination I highly approve of," Lucius said, sitting down on her bed and taking his shoes off. He stood up again, turned to face her, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, never losing eye contact. Once he'd rid himself of his shirt, he took his wand and vanished the rest of his clothing.

The wizarding world might assume that Lucius Malfoy was born for pleasure. Hermione was now learning the truth of this assumption. Being with Lucius was pleasure; she'd already learned that. Being intimate with Lucius brought pleasure to new heights.

With Ron, sex had been... not unpleasant at best, stale at worst. She'd occasionally wondered if something might be wrong with her, but didn't dwell on the thought for too long. After all, she was perfectly capable of bringing herself to orgasm, which proved she was healthy and her body functioned as it should, so she figured maybe Ron hadn't taken enough time or maybe didn't know how. After all, he'd never been the adventurous sort in bed. Those adventures she only knew from hearsay.

Lucius focused on her. He joined her on the bed, still keeping eye contact with her. Then slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes and hands moved to her torso, lightly stroking her ribs, her stomach, and he occasionally purred sounds of delight.

Hermione was unable to suppress a shudder and sighed happily. His hands felt so wonderful on her skin, and the slight tickle of a few strands of his long hair feathering her breast only increased the sensation. Out of their own accord, her fingers found his head and tangled his hair, occasionally tugging gently as her pleasure increased from his administrations.

"Gorgeous," he breathed and stopped the movement of his hands momentarily, eliciting a whimper from somewhere deep inside her. His head bent towards her face, and his lips crushed on her mouth, which opened almost instantly to allow him entry. One tongue explored another, stroking passionately. He tasted wonderful, pleasant, unique. There was a hint of fresh mint and another herb she couldn't quite define, and tasting him further heightened her senses as if they weren't already heightened to the hilt.

She suddenly felt a shiver of cold as his tongue left her mouth to explore other parts, gliding down her neck, showering her with just a hint of little licks, further down to her breasts. One hand gently kneaded her left breast while his tongue flicked over the nipple of her right, then his breath blew on it, making her all the more aware of the pleasurable sensation. Her fingers still entangled in his hair, she felt him withdraw, and her body arched towards his head. No, stay right there!

His chuckle came from deep within. "Beautiful." He moved his head, and his tongue now attended to the other breast with equal focus while his hand moved over to the previously kissed one to knead, flick, and rub a thumb over her now very acutely aware nipple. She whimpered in the sensation of simultaneous incredible delight and slight, ever so slight, discomfort.

Then there were feathery kisses all the way down her breast, her ribs, her stomach. Further down, even further, while one hand replaced the tongue on her breast, again kneading, flicking, rubbing, eliciting moans from her.

As his tongue slowly lavished the skin of her folds, his hands moved downwards from her breasts, making her feel momentarily bereft. But then one of his fingers found her clit and circled it in slow, deliberate movements while his tongue indulged in feather-light kisses up and down her thighs, eliciting shudders with yet more delight...and anticipation.

The circling around her clit stopped only to be replaced by the lighest touch of his tongue, which quickly grew into a sucking movement, one moment bordering on pain, only to be replaced with gentle strokes further kindling the fire that started deep in her core. She arched into his touch and moaned. "Lucius..."

"Like this?" His tongue, his velvety, clever tongue circled her clit now. "Or like this?" The tongue was smoothly replaced by his finger while the rest of his hand's digits delved deeper between her folds.

"Oh, yes..." She arched further up into his hand, fingers, tongue. It was the most exquisite torture she'd ever experienced. Whatever you do, don't stop...

One moment, there was sensation, the next, the fire exploded into fireworks. The orgasm engulfed her entire body, her entire being, helped by digits finding that spot somewhere inside her wall. "Oh. M...M...Merlin!"

The deep chuckle prolonged her shuttering. "Beautiful. Gorgeous. You should see yourself. What a sight to behold." His voice sounded deeply satisfied.

At least one finger still pressing against her inner wall, actively prolonging her orgasm, his head moved upwards, and lips came again crushing down on hers. For the first time in her entire forty years, Hermione tasted herself, and it was strangely erotic.

When her body finally slowed down its contractions and Lucius ended the play with her tongue, she sighed, deeply content. "Best. Ever."

He chuckled. "I hope only to date. Surely, there is more."

Her eyes widened. "I've never felt this way..."

"Well," Lucius drawled. "Blonds in general are rumoured to be more sophisticated lovers than ginger-heads. I'll leave it up to you to decide."

"This one is also far more self-confident; I'd say, bordering on arrogance," she said and snuggled against his chest. She wondered how she could have missed so many years of pleasure with Ron. Good riddance.

A/N: For details of the prompt, please see chapter 1.

Grateful thanks go to southernwitch69 for making this more readable. For correct writing, thank her. For mistakes, blame me.