Author: Svelte Rose

LJ Community: dmhgficexchange

Theme: For the summer exchange over at the livejournal community.

Rating: PG-13

Title: Malfoys Never

Date: July 04th, 2006

Note: I would like to send my utmost thanks to the wonderful beta, Lady Sunflower for going over this piece and being as honest as possible with her opinions. Us writers would never improve if it weren't for the betas. Here's to the betas! Hip hip hooray! Second, I'd like to thank dmhgficexchange for letting me write for such awesome prompts. I enjoyed experimenting with a fluffy!Narcissa and especially the fluffy!Lucius. He still has a bit of a bite to him as I cannot imagine Lucius Malfoy ever being truly fluffy but here is my attempt so I hope you enjoy it! Gleamingeyes, if you don't enjoy Lucius in this one, I shall endeavor to write an even fluffier one for you. I aim to please. Enough of my babble and onwards…

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She already missed the sun.

Clutching the file of papers in her hand, she nodded slightly to the keepers of Azkaban. With her thumb, she rubbed the elegant engagement ring upon her finger and stepped boldly past the open doors.

"Ah…Miss Granger," familiar silver eyes blinked calmly at her, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

She motioned to the Keeper of the Keys and the masked man stepped forward, unlocking the chains at his feet and wrist.

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Slowly and luxuriously, Lucius Malfoy stretched his legs and his arms before sitting up, very much like the aristocrat that he was.

Clearing her throat, she pulled a sheet of paper from her voluminous folder and began reading out loud.

"Lucius Malfoy, you have been released from your sentence given for your crimes as a Death Eater and an ally of Lord Voldemort-" There was a gasp from the Aurors that had chosen to accompany her. Despite the mentioned person being completely and entirely annihilated by one certain green-eyed boy, his name still invoked fear.

But she was aware enough to notice he barely flinched.

She continued, her voice ringing loud and clear. "Due to lack of evidence against you, you will be released from Azkaban and placed under probation until the prosecution is allowed to appear before the Parliament with sufficient evidence…"

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He remembered her clear brown eyes meeting his before she flashed a tight smile at him. He remembered the looks of hate the other Aurors had given him while she led him out of the cold, dingy cell he would never miss.

And once outside, he blinked several times against the sun before climbing into an equipage that he noticed bore the Malfoy crest.

He also noticed that the footman had tried hard to repress the shudder that ran through his entire frame as he bowed before the tall, imposing man. Even the thestrals were fidgeting.

Lucius gripped his cane and smirked. He still had it.

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When the door closed behind her (much to the protest of the other Aurors), she settled in the seat across from him. Nodding slightly at him, she pulled out a book as he tapped on the roof of the equipage.

Hogwarts: A History. He mused silently to himself. He had heard that was her favorite book to read. The wear on the edges were proof of its constant handling.

And while he did enjoy the silence, he did not enjoy his confusion.

But Malfoys were never confused.

Right. So really, he was just lacking in knowledge pertaining to this specific matter.

And so he stared, unwavering in his action before she looked up and caught his eye. In it, something flashed and he knew that she knew.

Now the question was: if Hermione Granger (someone whose very existence he stood against his entire life) knew that he was guilty of the very crimes he had been incarcerated for and then let go…then why did she use her vast knowledge and connections (one which could very well rival a Malfoy's and admitting that was painful) to free him?

A tiny ray of sunlight rested on her left hand and for a scant second, the carriage lit up with tiny, dancing sparkles.

Ah yes…that's right. She was to become a Malfoy soon.

Suddenly, he didn't feel so well.

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Narcissa Malfoy drew to her full height as the black equipage slowly made its way to the entrance of the mansion. She clasped her shaking hands together before a large hand briefly held her shoulder. While it was supposed to be a gesture of comfort, it did not quell the butterflies wreaking havoc in her stomach.

When it stopped, her blue eyes widened expectantly as the footman leapt from his post and quickly opened the door. At first sight of the imposing figure stepping out of the carriage, her breath hitched in her throat and she very nearly cried when he held out his hand.

Her son bristled at her side and she knew he was as nervous as she was.

With abated breath, both mother and son waited for what seemed to be an extremely long minute.

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Surprise was a mild way of putting it.

Glancing at the indeterminate features of one Lucius Malfoy and his outstretched hand, Hermione Granger put aside her reserves and took his hand.

Exposed to the sunlight, the innocent ring on her finger blossomed in a shower of sparkles.

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"Lucius," she whispered, mostly to herself. But the gentle breeze in the air carried her words and Lucius Malfoy, in possession of a pair of very sharp ears, glanced up and caught her eyes.

Trying to keep the composure she had been chided many times for not keeping in certain situations - and balancing the wave of relief she had at the sight of her spouse - she nimbly climbed down the steps and then stood before him, fighting the battle between succumbing to her desires or keeping her reserve.

At this point, he had let go of Hermione's hand and opened his arms slightly. It was a gesture so small, barely noticeable that she had to look into his silver eyes in order to figure out its true meaning.

With a deep breath and as confidant of a voice as she could muster, Narcissa Malfoy threw him a watery smile. "Welcome home, Lucius."

He nodded and with a smile he reserved only for her, Lucius reached out and pulled her into a hug.

Uncomfortable at the uncommon display of affection, the other enamored pair glanced at each other, unsure of what to do with themselves.

They didn't have to think long as the other pair separated quickly and made their way up the steps. Narcissa had only glanced back at Hermione before the girl slowly followed after them, her soon-to-be husband meeting her halfway.

Standing right in front of her, keeping the curly-haired woman from progressing further up the stairs, Draco placed a chaste kiss upon her lips.

Though barely long enough to even be considered a kiss; in that fraction of a second, Hermione was reminded that her actions were not for naught.

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Dinner was a tense affair. Malfoys weren't much for talking - and while Hermione had a habit for running her mouth off in situations where she wasn't entirely comfortable - this was the one exception.

Poking around at her food, she very nearly flinched when a warm hand gently rested on her knee and rubbed tiny circles on the apex of her thigh. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, Hermione sent a silent 'Thanks.'

Draco, on the other hand, had not only done it for her, but very much for himself, also.

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With only the crickets' chirps and a glass of port as his company, Lucius stared at the very hand he had reached out to help the mud- no, muggle, down from the carriage.

His ancestors must be turning in their graves. A bit surprisingly, he felt no excruciating pain from the Dark Mark decorating his left arm and saw no flash of the deadly green light. Lord Voldemort was most certainly dead.

Clenching and unclenching his hand, he only looked up when the door opened with a creak and in stepped a lithe figure.

He waited until she turned around, and when she did, he noted that she had hardly taken notice of him before she skipped up the steps, two or three books in her possession.

Ah…so she hadn't noticed him. Very well then; he wouldn't cause a scene, either.

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When Draco had first asked her to move in with him, she had all but said no. She liked the comfortable flat that Harry and Ron purchased for her as a belated present for all the years they'd been fighting Voldemort and was very much against the idea of sitting down with the matron of Malfoy Mansion at dinnertime trying to make small talk.

Small talk she could do.

Narcissa Malfoy…well that was an entirely different question.

But at the sight of pleading silver eyes and soft kisses she had tried to protest, but her will weakened and she found herself saying 'yes' before she knew it. With an excited 'whoop' and a rashly muttered incantation, Draco Malfoy had half her stuff packed.

The other half - well, she had no idea and had gave him a very proper scolding as to how dangerous it was, if out of no where, a series of La Perla lingerie were to land on some unsuspecting fop's head.

He had only smirked at her before slapping her delightful rump.

She spent the rest of the evening glaring at him and imagining all sorts of hexes.

And surprisingly, Narcissa Malfoy turned out to be a pretty pleasant hostess.

If only she hadn't had to deal with Lucius Malfoy also…

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A bit surprised when the fireplace roared to life and a familiar face popped up, Lucius sipped calmly from his glass as his son's fiancée skipped down the library stairs and towards the flames. "Blaise!" she chirped happily.

Blaise grinned, but really, it seemed more like a smirk. "How are the festivities over at grand ol' Malfoy Manor?"

Her smile waned a bit before she nodded. "Good."

"Liar."

"It's as good as it can be," she answered.

A very diplomatic answer. Lucius arched his eyebrow and continued drinking his port.

"How is that nasty bloke, anyways?"

Why that little…Lucius fumed, nearly stepping out from the shadows.

"I hope he's doing fine," she answered.

A well-read man himself, Lucius knew to look beyond her words and was slightly piqued at her inference. Why, she acted as though she belonged to this house more than he! Really now, he didn't need her concern. This was his home, certainly not that meddling, bothersome, big-haired, buck-teeth-

"Hermione," Blaise began, all cheeriness gone from his face.

Lucius took note of the expression on his face. One that he had seen far too many times during Draco's mentioning of his fiancée.

"I know, Blaise. I know. I'm surprise Harry and Ron haven't done worse than just giving me the silent treatment, you know."

"Yes but, Hermione-"

"I know it's not the right thing to do. And it kills me inside to know that I am looking at a man who killed many of our dearest friends-"

Lucius held back a scoff. As if he would bother with students. No, his prey were of more importance. That is, they weren't part of his son's graduating class.

"But Narcissa wanted this. Draco wanted this-"

Really now? He thought his son held him with the utmost disdain.

"And I wanted to do something for him. He did so much for us that I've no idea how to repay him and this was the best I could think of."

"But you know what he's capable of," Blaise softly spoke as he stared intensely at the guilt-ridden witch before him.

"And I know what I'm capable of," she said with assurance.

Well, if she didn't have the blood-line befitting of a Malfoy, she had plenty of personality to make up for it.

Oh lord, was he actually - no, NO. He was not. Lucius grabbed the bottle silently and chugged it.

"In any case, he seems harmless."

"Yes, but only now." Blaise glared. "Jesus Hermione, if you'd only-"

"Blaise," she spoke softly, the one word possessing volumes of meaning behind it.

"Right, right. The past is in the past. I'm off to bed now. 'Night, Hermione."

She nodded with a small smile. "Good night, Blaise."

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The next morning, Draco was presented with a little card on a silver platter carried by a house elf.

Of course Lucius Malfoy commanded the best - even when delivering a small summons.

Reading the missive, he rolled his eyes and suppressed the urge to roll back into bed where a soft, pliant body was waiting for him.

Her chestnut curls swallowing her pillow and half of his, Draco allowed a brief smile before leaning down and passionately kissing the sleeping witch.

A moan came from her mouth as her lids fluttered open before a squeal of protest was made against his mouth. Her chin slightly red from the rub of his stubble and she barely had time to yawn before she felt his warm hand making its way up her bare legs and- oh lord!

Not proper. Not proper at all.

The house elf had long disappeared, and only when Hermione felt the paper against her throat as he clutched her there with his hand, did she point it out.

"What's that?"

With a bit of grumbling, another deep kiss and a squeeze of his hand in a place that had no business of being squeezed, he left to get dressed.

She rubbed her eyes wearily and brought her left hand up to her face.

Hermione wondered, for the umpteenth time in her life, if she was as sane as she claimed.

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"Tell me something, Draco," Lucius began, tipping his leather seat back before resting his feet on the surface of his desk.

"Of course, Father," Draco answered as he sat stiffly in his chair on the other side of the desk.

"What is the nature of Granger's and Zabini's relationship?" he asked, twirling a quill in his fingers.

"They are close friends," he answered tersely. Draco had a feeling he knew where this was leading. He was hardly surprised his father knew; being that the man knew everything even behind maximum security bars.

"Oh?" An arched eyebrow. "Nothing more?"

A muscle twitched in his jaw.

"Draco?" came the prompt.

"They were lovers, now they are just close friends," he repeated, leaning back into his chair.

"Really?" How a man could make one word have so many different meanings was fascinating for Draco, who made a point in life to be as blunt as possible.

Now all you had to do was add in a pinch of sarcasm and you had the wit of a Malfoy.

Draco lifted his hand and rested it underneath his chin, patiently waiting for the continuation of his father's dialogue. Lucius Malfoy was the very embodiment of bureaucracy. Snobby, arrogant, handsome as hell - a confession Pansy had made to his horror - and a flair for the dramatic.

Lucius Malfoy jerked around and faced Draco, his robes flaring around him as though they came from Snape's very own closet. "Obviously you know my feelings about this." He waved his hand towards Draco.

"Obviously." The younger Malfoy tensed, the muscle in his jaw twitching once more.

"As you know, we pride ourselves on being one of the only generations of purebloods left."

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"But as it seems with all great things, they must come to an end."

"Now just one moment, Father-" Draco all but bit out, having stopped the insinuation.

"Do not interrupt me!" Lucius roared, slamming his palms down on the desk.

Draco breathed heavily, the infamous Malfoy temper quickly gaining hold.

"As I said, they must come to an end." Lucius dusted off an imaginary speck on his spotless robe. "Zabini still loves her."

"I'm aware of this." Draco had always and probably will always be proud to have a father such as Lucius. But at this very moment, he knew that if given the chance to throw a sucker punch at his father, he would have taken the chance.

"You were rivals in school, were you not?"

Draco only nodded. It was true. Despite being in the same House, Blaise Zabini and he competed heavily for grades, in magic abilities, and even for girls - one girl in particular.

"Malfoys never lose," Lucius finally muttered, fingering the key he had pulled out from the desk drawer.

A bitter smile crossed Draco's face. "Of course."

"What a fight it must have been." Gray met gray.

"You would not believe it if I told you."

With a flick of his wrist, Lucius Malfoy tossed the key to Draco. He noted with some pride that his son had deftly snatched it out of the air, his Seeker abilities still prominent.

"The vault is three stories below. Give the key to Granger and tell her that as of today, she is the owner of the Malfoy/Black family jewels."

Draco couldn't help but goggle. "Father…does this mean-"

"Don't assume anything," the elder snarled. "If she is to become a Malfoy, people will recognize her as a Malfoy and not only as the brains behind the Golden Trio," he emphasized the last part, sarcasm dripping from his sneering lips.

"I couldn't agree more," Draco muttered more to himself than to his father, while he studied the key with new interest.

An audible sigh was heard, catching the attention of the younger Malfoy.

"As I said, Malfoys never lose," he continued. "I will not let Granger beat me. The Wizarding World will see my accepting of her as an example and not use her generosity as an example of how one should act. We set the trend, we don't follow them."

Arching an eyebrow, Draco could hardly help himself as he answered in a desert-dry tone, "I'm so glad you see it that way, Father."

"Insolent boy! Now, leave." With that dismissal, Lucius reclined into his chair, his robes fluttering about him - were they enchanted? - and ignored Draco completely.

Figures only Lucius Malfoy should see it as a competition. Regardless, Draco was surprisingly relieved, for it was probably the best they were ever going to get out of a retired Death-Eater.

Bowing, Draco shook his head and left without another word. He was truly itching to go back to bed and present the warm, curvaceous, delectable, soon-to-be wife of his with the key.

…and then some.