12 months later

"Metanoia - The journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life." Fuckology

Hermione walked down the footpath, her six-inch Manolos clicking confidently with each step. Her pantsuit had been made for her and fitted like a glove. She'd never been one for frivolous spending but she loved the feel of the expensive fabric and now she couldn't imagine wearing anything less than tailor-made.

And Lucius was only too happy for her to spend his money how she saw fit.

She smiled to herself.

Lucius.

Lucius, who had spent the morning in bed with her. Lucius, who still surprised her with his generosity, his loyalty, his protectiveness. His ability to fuck her senseless.

Lucius, who worshipped everything about her, even her love of books. The man had built her a library, for fuck's sake! And it was with great pleasure that she had shoved that fact down Ronald Weasley's throat when he dared approach her a few months back to ask what the hell she thought she was doing with 'those fucking Malfoy bastards'.

She'd done away with her so-called friends — their hurtful barbs and stinging remarks meant little to her anymore. They were all still living their miserable lives — cheating on each other and getting caught in pants-down situations on regular occasions — and she knew by the rumour mill they were blaming Lucius for swaying her and convincing her to abandon them. They were the victims.

She hadn't bothered to correct the gossip columns; her relationship with Lucius was no one's business. Molly's comments were particularly cruel, going so far as to insult her parents for rearing such an ungrateful turncoat slag, and remarking that what's in the bitch always comes out in the pup.

As far as Hermione was concerned, when Molly Weasley went a step too far with her remarks, she became fair game.

A forged note in Arthur's handwriting, inviting Molly to lunch in his office, led to her finding her husband balls deep in Mary Cattermole's arse a few days afterwards.

Hermione's smile widened as she continued down the footpath; she rather enjoyed watching the spectacle that their lives had become, and was glad she was no longer a part of their world.

Because without them in it, her world had become richer and more vibrant. A world in which she would never have dared to imagine if she'd stuck with them.

She glanced back over her shoulder; her personal bodyguard was just a few steps behind her. She'd protested at first, telling Lucius she was more than capable of hexing the balls off anyone who dared to come near her, but he would have none of it. She couldn't use magic all of the time — for obvious reasons — and, now that they were back doing business in the wizarding world as well, he wanted her safe from the scum she used to call family. He refused to allow her to be in any danger, and the fear of losing her that was evident in his eyes when he insisted Raphael be by her side whenever he wasn't, was endearing. She'd relented — of course she had — and now Raphael was her constant guardian angel.

She felt the wide-eyes stares of everyone she passed; Raphael was built like a brick shithouse and she knew they looked a sight whenever they were out. But she no longer cared. Muggle and wizard worlds alike, they could stare all they wanted.

She no longer curled into herself, wanting to hide from everyone around her. She now walked with her shoulders back and her spine straight, and carried a confidence that was unimaginable a year ago.

But when one was held up rather than torn down, the change was inevitable.

"Ms Granger," Carlos nodded formally at her as she arrived at Lucius' new bar, just off Diagon Alley. He held the door open and she stopped and smiled.

"Carlos, I've told you a thousand times, please call me Hermione."

"Nuh-uh, Ms Granger." He shook his head. "The boss would kill me."

"Yes, well, maybe the boss needs to be reminded who the actual boss is." She winked at him and he chuffed out a nervous laugh. "Is everything okay?"

"Ah, he's in a meeting," Carlos told her with a shake of his head.

"Aurors again?"

Carlos nodded and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"They do know they'll never find anything, don't they?"

"Nah, not too bright, that lot. They think the boss'll slip up." He grinned. "Smart man, the boss. Only has the best working for him."

Hermione kissed Carlos' cheek, making him blush, and stepped through the door.

Lucius was in his usual place in the back — his luxurious office not unlike the one in Villiers — surrounded by his crew, and looking utterly bored as the three Aurors questioned him.

Hermione shook her head. Harry, Seamus and Ron; the three biggest idiots Merlin ever blew breath into were sitting with their backs to her. The Auror Department really needed to assess just who they let in.

She did, however, take the chance to just look at Lucius before he spotted her.

This man — her man — was fucking hot. He was a walking advertisement for how to make a suit look good, and the all-black three piece he was wearing today was no exception. His short, dark hair was no longer jarring, and suited his strong profile. Although he had changed it years ago to hide himself from the wizarding world, Hermione may have hinted of late that she might like to see him in his blond glory once more. Her eyes shifted, focusing on his mouth, a mouth that had worked its magic on her just hours ago, and she bit her own lip. She knew those lips were the topic of many conversations amongst the women in his crew; Pansy had asked her numerous times about just how good they felt.

Hermione was still becoming accustomed to Pansy, their friendship was still in its infancy, and Pansy's forwardness always brought a blush to Hermione's cheeks. But Pansy had also shown a softer side, and her loyalty was true — unlike that of the people she had once thought of as friends.

The Floo lit up, making her smile; Draco was here, looking as sharp and elegant as his father, and her heart did a tiny flutter.

Damned Malfoy men.

She had been nervous about Draco's initial reaction to Lucius' choice in her. Their track record had been fiery, to say the least. But his open acceptance had shocked her. He'd simply shrugged a shoulder and welcomed her into the fold. He had, however, told her that he would not ever be calling her Mum.

Hermione caught his eye and he grinned, stepping gracefully out of the fireplace and moving to stand beside her.

"Your friends are here again?"

"Apparently so." She rolled her eyes, and they both laughed.

Lucius' eyes lifted at the sound — a swirling mixture of gray, green, and blue locking onto her. He straightened his shoulders and stood, all conversation stopped. The men surrounding him shifted away from the table the second they saw her, knowing full well the consequences if they didn't stand every time she entered a room.

She crossed the room slowly — ignoring the stunned faces of the three mannerless morons still sitting at the table — loving the way Lucius' eyes trailed down from her face to her feet and back up again. He reached immediately for her, threading his fingers through her hair and covering her mouth with his. She leaned into him, sliding her arms around his waist and holding him tight. His kiss was far too passionate to be appropriate in a public place, and she knew that in part he was proving a point, but she simply didn't care.

It was no secret they were together. In fact, it had been quite the scandal the first time they had been seen in public. Lucius' reputation was sketchy at best, despite his declaration of having been a spy for The Order being found to be true. He still wasn't trusted, and his 'corruption of the brightest witch of her age' was still the subject of gossip the wizarding world over.

But Hermione had been happy to be 'corrupted' by this man. His old-school manners, his respect, his encouragement and enthusiasm towards anything she showed an interest in, all simply proved that Ronald Weasley was, as Lucius had said, just a boy.

And Harry and Seamus weren't any better.

She had become accustomed to the gentlemanly etiquette that surrounded her, and not just from Lucius. His men held the women around them in the highest regard, far more respectful than anything she had ever experienced. They were men who would never have sat on the couch, a beer in one hand while the other was shoved down their pants, sharing their 'conquests' with their mates. They were polite, charming, and loyal, with manners that made her swoon.

But they were also the scariest bunch of motherfuckers she had ever known in her life. Threats rolled off their tongues as easily as thank yous.

And the man who was currently making it hard for her not to purr, was no different.

Lucius drew back after an eternity, smiling at her, and she lifted her hand to his cheek, her eyes flicking briefly to the rock on her finger. A new addition; she was still stunned every time she looked at it. A large diamond, which Pansy assured her was at least ten carats, set in platinum and perched perfectly on her left ring finger.

"Join us?" Lucius held out his hand to the table. "I'm sure the Auror Department would like to know more about you, my love."

She slid into the chair he held out for her, smiling when he sat beside her and made a show of slipping his hand below the table to grip her thigh.

"They have come to talk to us... again."

Hermione rolled her eyes and finally looked at the three Aurors sitting across from her. To think she had been through so much with them. Now they were strangers. They all wore identical expressions: slack jaws, eyes bulging, cheeks flushed from seeing Lucius kiss her like he had.

"You would think they would tire of us," she said coolly. "They've yet to find anything to substantiate their accusations."

"Yes, but boys will be boys." Lucius squeezed her thigh again. His hatred for these three was barely concealed. Given the opportunity he would gladly bind their limbs and put them at the bottom of the Thames.

"'Mione." Ron finally found his voice and, unfortunately, it spoke the wrong word.

Lucius slammed his fist onto the table and the three Aurors almost fell backwards in surprise.

"'Mione?" He snarled. "'Mione? This is Ms Granger, and you will address her correctly, or not at all."

"Lucius." Hermione touched his shoulder gently. "It's okay. I've mentioned previously to Mr Weasley how I hate to be called 'Mione, but he was raised by a screaming banshee and a man who thinks garden gnomes are cute, so the poor guy doesn't know any better."

Ron's face flamed beet-red, and Hermione felt a surge of pride; she'd managed to politely insult three of the Weasleys in one hit, if only she could have gotten a shot in at the rest of them… except Charlie, of course. He and Sirius were doing a marvellous job setting up business deals for Lucius in Eastern Europe.

She noted Harry staring at her hand, the sizeable diamond glinting in the overhead light. "Is there a problem, Mr Potter?"

He looked startled at her formal address. "Are you engaged to him, 'Mi—" he coughed, flinching at Lucius' glare, "Ms Granger?"

"I'm not sure how that's relevant, Mr Potter. I mean, you're here to investigate Mr Malfoy, not me." Hermione sat back, her hand sliding from Lucius' shoulder to the back of his neck, her fingers lightly caressing his warm skin. It was a deliberate gesture, one of intimacy, to show these three fuckers just where her allegiances stood.

"Well, ah, it is, um, relevant," Harry stammered nervously. "If you're now Mr Malfoy's... um…"

"Fiancée?" Hermione suggested with no small amount of amusement at Harry's squirming.

"So it's true?" Ron cut in, pointing his finger at Lucius. "You're engaged to this piece of trash?"

"I guess that depends on your definition of trash." Hermione reached into her purse and tossed a photograph across the table, smiling sweetly at both Harry and Ron. "Your fiancée, Mr Weasley, and your wife, Mr Potter. Am I correct?"

The picture was of Lavender and Ginny in a very compromising position with Seamus, and Ron's already glowing face almost burst into flame.

"Where the fuck d'ya get that?" Seamus looked horrified, jumping up. Although at Ron and Harry seeing the picture, or at being caught with Lavender and Ginny and their less than stellar reputations, Hermione wasn't certain.

"Maybe you should be more concerned with just who you're fucking, Mr Finnigan." Hermione looked between Harry and Ron, and then back to Seamus, her sweet smile turning into something more devious. "Molly Weasley expects pure-Potters, not fag-breathed Finnigans?"

Seamus' face had gone deathly pale and she was sure that Ron was about to pass out. Harry was staring between the photo and Seamus. He had no words.

No doubt the shit was going to hit the fan later. Hermione almost wished she could watch.

Lucius ran his hand higher along her thigh, grinning broadly. Hermione smiled back at him, a silent exchange passing between them; this meeting definitely wasn't going the way the Aurors had planned.

"Now, what is it that you're after this time?" She looked at all three of them in turn. "You've searched our pubs, and our homes, even our vaults at Gringotts. The only remaining place is our potion facility and greenhouse, which The Ministry has approved, but we are more than happy to show you. Mr Zabini, if you will?" Hermione nodded at Blaise, who winked at her then headed through the door in the back. "And we have the perfect person to give you the tour."

"Longbottom!" Seamus' voice squeaked, when Neville appeared half a minute later.

Hermione smiled. Neville was Lucius' well-hidden secret. A genius Herbologist and way above the teaching job he'd been offered at Hogwarts, very few people knew he worked with The Malfoys. He was no longer the chubby introvert they had first known. He was cunning and ruthless — a true Slytherin, Lucius often said — and he had grown up well, turning the heads of females wherever he went.

But he'd only ever had eyes for one.

"Parkinson?" Harry's eye's almost fell out of his head when he realised whose shoulders Neville had his arm draped over. Pansy's talent for making potions was equal to Neville's ability to grow unique plants, and they made a formidable team, both at work and at play.

"Lads," Neville said with a bemused smirk, taking a seat beside Lucius. Pansy sat across his lap, and he circled her hips with one arm.

"These boys would like to tour the facilities, Mr Longbottom," Lucius explained. "They are under the impression that you and Ms Parkinson are... up to no good."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Neville pinched Pansy's hip and she laughed.

"Not in front of the Aurors, babe." Pansy ran her hand down Neville's chest. "Whatever will they think?"

"That I'm the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet." He tightened his grip on Pansy's hip. "I got the perfect girl, and the perfect job, while they're still playing games." He reached inside his waistcoat and pulled out a card, flinging it across the table to land in front of Harry. "Meet me there in an hour."

"What the fuck, Neville?" Ron looked like he was about to explode. "You work for this arsehole too? What the fuck is wrong with the both of you?"

"Let's just say I wasn't content to sit back as an Auror and drink myself into women's knickers, Ron. We were the generation that changed the world, yet you all gave up. We should have been there to ensure nothing like that ever happened again. Did you think you were doing that by becoming Aurors? Corrupt ones at that? You just couldn't give a fuck, could you? Let someone else worry about it this time, is that it? To think I looked up to you, Harry. What a let down you've become, the three of you — Gryffindors, my arse. We're doing good work here, for both worlds. The drugs we produce, the potions we make, they save lives — they stop addictions. We set up rehabilitation facilities, counselling services, mentoring programmes... This family is doing your fucking work for you. You'd do well to remember that. So, to answer your question, Ron. There's nothing wrong with us. In fact, we're worth twelve of you."

Lucius sat back, his trademark smirk curling his lip, Hermione's fingers still caressing the back of his neck. "Now, boys, Mr Longbottom has been more than accommodating. You're free to visit his facilities within the hour. So if that's all, we've got a business to run."

Seamus stood, eager to leave the embarrassment behind, but Ron and Harry remained seated. Hermione arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow and stared them both down.

"Is there something else either of you need to say?"

"You're not as smart as you think, 'Mione." Ron leered at her — at least he tried. She was sure he'd already shat in his pants — quite literally — when Lucius took offence at the horrendous nickname, and now he was trying to be the hero he never was, nor would ever be.

"And why would you think that, Mr Weasley?"

"The Malfoys? Really?" He laughed, glancing around to Harry for support, but Harry was simply looking dumbstruck. "They're scum. And they'll turn on you and your filthy blood—"

"Watch what you're saying, little brother." Charlie's voice was brittle with contempt and Ron spun around so quickly, he fell from his chair and landed on his arse. Charlie squatted down in front of him. "Family loyalty is what the Malfoys are all about. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Hermione smiled as Sirius' hand landed on Charlie's shoulder, murmuring to his husband to 'go easy, my love.' She was completely in love with Lucius, but that didn't change the fact that she was still insanely jealous of these two.

"Charlie? What the...?" Ron looked stunned. Harry sprung up from his chair and stared at Sirius, his mouth hanging open. Hermione noticed the pained look exchanged between the two men. Molly and Ginny had given Harry an ultimatum — that much she knew — his godfather, the man he had idolised and loved, or Ginny. It had broken Sirius' heart when Harry chose Ginny, Molly bloody Weasley chirping in her trophy son-in-law's ear constantly about how Sirius was a disgusting abnormality and that the Weasleys, sans the son she'd disowned, were his only family. She'd played him like a fiddle. Hermione shook her head; she had hoped Harry would come to his senses eventually.

Charlie gripped his younger brother by the shirt collar and hauled him to his feet in one swift movement. "Mr Malfoy asked politely, but I wasn't raised like he was. So, unless you, Scarhead, and the leprechaun have some solid evidence to back up your accusations, get the fuck out."

"Oh, but before you go..." Hermione slid another picture across the table and Ron blanched. Lavender's mouth was wrapped around a cock so large the strain was visible on her face; eyes watering, saliva dripping down her chin. And the size, coupled with the look on Ron's face, clearly indicated that the appendage didn't belong to him. "As I already said, Mr Weasley, your definition of scum is a little off. Lavender may have agreed to marry you, but her lifestyle clearly isn't going to change. And just a word to the wise, Mr Weasley, your new fiancée is so easy..." Hermione looked around at the group of men surrounding them and then looked at the picture. "I'm certain that any one of these men could have her any time they wanted."

All the colour drained from Ron's face as he glanced around the room, realisation dawning that someone in the room was the one in the picture.

"Maybe you also should redefine your definition of smart. The gossip columns would love to get their hands on these pictures."

"Blackmailing an Auror is illegal, Hermione." Harry said quietly, but she only laughed.

"Illegal? I wasn't sure you knew what that word meant. Besides, it's not blackmail. I'm simply letting you know that there might be more of these pictures around — hundreds more — and I would hate for the Aurors' Office to be embarrassed by you all so publicly."

Lucius stood, holding his hand out to Hermione, and pulling her to his side when she took took it. He kissed her temple and smiled. "Have I told you today how much I love you?"

Hermione turned to wrap both her arms around him, looking back over her shoulder at the stunned expressions on her former friends' faces. "I believe you said it very loudly while we were alone this morning."

"Well, maybe we should retire and I can tell you all over again." Lucius said in a low voice, running his nose along her hairline. "Mr Weasley, Mr Potter, Mr Finnigan, we're definitely done here. Carlos will see you all out."

Hermione watched as they left, and she shook her head. How she had put up with them as long as she had, how she had thought she was in love with Ron, how she had ever thought them her friends was a total mystery.

"Put them out of your mind, my love," Lucius whispered, "I'm certain, after remembering what you're capable of, they won't be back."

He led her towards the Floo and pulled her in with him. His lips lifted slowly into a smile she knew all too well. It was a smile that said she was about to spend the afternoon very naked and very satisfied.

"And we won't be back today either."

He kissed her quickly and looked back over his shoulder. Standing around his office were his family — Draco, Raphael, Carlos, Blaise, Pansy, Neville, Charlie, and Sirius. He loved them all.

He swallowed, taking a moment. Words weren't needed.

They all knew.

Happy birthday, Claire xxx

Many teabags were squeezed during the writing of this fic.

The bodyguard/gardener quip comes from The Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers:

Frodo: "We are hobbits of the Shire. Frodo Baggins is my name and this is Samwise Gamgee."

Faramir: "Your bodyguard?"

Sam: "His gardener."

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

Rick Blaine, Casablanca. Ranked #67 in the American Film Institute's list of the top 100 movie quotations in American cinema (Wikipedia).