Lemons ahoy! Usual disclaimer: JK Rowling owns it, I don't, more's the pitty.

They slept soundly that night.

In the morning, however, when Lucius awoke, his wife was sitting on the window seat and staring out upon the grounds. "Hermione? Are you all right?" He slipped from the bed, donned a dressing gown, and joined her on the cushioned seat.

She turned and gave him a small smile. "I didn't feel well and I didn't want to disturb you." She laid her hand on his leg closest to her.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles. "Any new memories?"

A bashful smile broke out on her face. "I remember our courtship."

For some reason, the memories had come rushing at her while she was bent over the toilette, retching. Along with the images from the previous night, came the knowledge that Narcissa had perished shortly after lying to save Harry, but Hermione had not known until much later. Thus, by the time Lucius had publically started to court Hermione, his wife had been dead for over a year.

It had seemed odd to the Wizarding population in general, not only because Lucius had approached the famous Muggle-born, but also because their compatibility appeared to be genuine and almost—dare one say it?—caring and loving. What no one, other than Lucius and Hermione, knew was that the embers of their relationship had started burning that lone night of frenzied love-making. Harry had returned with Snape in tow, and Lucius had been removed from their camp with nary a backward glance. She had never uttered a word to Harry about what had happened that night with her and Lucius.

Hermione had tried to reconcile her heart with the idea that she was better off not knowing where the blond wizard had been taken, but it had hardly worked. There was a fuzzy memory that she had recalled of Snape once telling her that he had kept Lucius well-hidden until the final battle. Lucius had then demanded that his friend release him so that he could find Draco and Narcissa. Reluctantly, Snape had agreed, but warned him that both factions would likely capture him, or worse in the case of the Death Eaters, kill him.

Apparently, it was a risk Lucius was willing to take, for when the dust had settled after the final battle, and she had caught a glimpse of three blond heads huddled together, she'd nearly wept with relief. Then she had wept, because she'd realised Lucius did not belong to her. He belonged to Narcissa. Head hung low, she'd left everyone to their victory—or in some cases, their despair—and had set about trying to find her parents again, which had taken her a year in Australia.

Once she had returned, her parents opting to stay where they were, she had been greeted with a situation she hadn't expected: the Marriage Ordinance. Her mind had instantly rebelled, but her heart had broken all over again. Not only had she lost Ron, she had also come to care a great deal about Malfoy Senior, and he wasn't available either. Prepared to return to Australia to be near her parents and escape the proposed law, she had been surprised to hear a knock on her flat door.

Hermione cautiously looked through the peephole and was stunned at the man who now stood outside her flat. Lucius Malfoy.

She took down her numerous wards, opened the door, and smiled hesitantly. "Mister Malfoy."

He was dressed to the nines, as was his usual style, but there was an emptiness that lurked behind his eyes. "Miss Granger. May I come in?"

She stepped to the side and allowed him entry, shutting the door after him. Hands wringing, she made herself stop to indicate the sitting room with a tilt of her head. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

Lucius hadn't moved far into her flat, but he had certainly noticed the scattered boxes. "Going somewhere?"

Biting down the nasty retort of, 'it's none of your business,' she nodded before entering her kitchen to make tea. "I'm moving to be near my family."

"And they are where?"

"That's not really your concern, Mister Malfoy," she said on a huff. She forcefully plopped down a chipped cup of tea on a counter near the blond.

"Lucius," he stated quietly.

Her brow arched. "Is there a reason you stopped by?" She crossed her arms instinctively. She might have felt a moment of weakness with that beautiful man, but she would not let him destroy her life now. When he moved closer, she had to steel herself not to retreat. This was her flat, her territory, and he was considered an intruder—the enemy.

He pulled his black leather gloves off and stashed them away in his travelling cloak. "I assume you've been made aware of the Marriage Ordinance?" At her slight nod, he continued. "I've come to ask that you consider my suit."

She almost had to forcibly close her mouth, slack as it was with shock. A mixture of dread and longing welled in her chest. "I don't think Draco and I would be compatible, Mister Malfoy."

"Lucius," he implored again, this time stepping right into her personal space. "And the suit is mine, not Draco's." He lifted his hand and brushed away a stray curl that had fallen across her nose.

"Yours?" she whispered harshly. She was desperately trying not to inhale the spicy fragrance of the wizard that haunted her dreams at night. "I-I don't understand."

Frowning, he tilted his head to study her. "Draco has already petitioned for a witch and she has accepted." He leaned forward, his nose brushing hers. "I had thought perhaps since we had shared a kinship of sorts, that you would be amenable to continuing what was abruptly ended so long ago."

Her eyes closed, in ecstasy and pain, and she even heard herself whimper. "Why would I want to continue something with a married man?" she asked in a broken voice, hating herself for her weakness.

His lips were on her eyelids, pressing gently. "I have been a widower for over a year, Hermione. I am subject to the Ordinance, same as you."

She quickly opened her eyes and searched his grey depths. "But I saw you with Draco and Narcissa, after the battle!"

"I was mourning with Draco," he admitted softly. "I believe you saw a lifeless mother being cradled by her son."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm so very sorry."

He nodded and cupped her heated cheek, swiping at the falling tears with his thumb. "Despite what you might think, Narcissa was a good woman. She will be missed." Lucius gathered her close, insinuating himself between her legs, the kitchen counter at her back. "Tell me that you feel the merest spark of what happened that night."

Lucius' long, hard body wreaked havoc on her senses and her long dormant desires, pressed against her as it was. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Why?" His fingers drifted across her jaw and down the slim column of her neck, idly caressing her skin. "I may have been delirious with fever that night, but I knew very well to whom I clung." He slipped one button of her lavender blouse from its hole. "Tell me what you felt."

She was panting now, trapped against the counter and his unyielding stance. Every time her chest rose, his deft fingers would collide with the bare skin of her cleavage. "I felt..." She tried to grasp onto words that described what she experienced that night, but his continued touches drove her to distraction. "I felt needed, wanted."

"Yes," he hissed and slipped another button free, revealing a lacy purple bra. He traced the edging on the cup. "And?"

"Fire, passion," she breathed and reached out to finally touch him as well. She ran her hand over his chest, feeling the taut muscles underneath his robes. "I wanted more."

He dipped his long fingers inside the cup and pushed the material aside, freeing her breast to his gaze. "I longed for more as well." He caressed her soft flesh, clearly mesmerised when her nipple began to pucker from his attentions. "So much more..." Bending low, he latched onto her breast and suckled, his tongue laving her nipple, his teeth nipping at the ruched bud.

"Oh, God," she moaned and threaded her hands through his silky hair to keep him where he was. "Don't stop."

"Don't leave," he countered after releasing her nipple with a wet plop. He straightened and ran his hands along her sides and down to grip her waist, lifting her to perch on the counter. "Consider my suit," he demanded.

"Think about what you're saying, Lucius," she said, cupping his clean-shaven jaw. "It ends in marriage. And not just any marriage. You would be united with a Mudbloo—"

Her words were effectively silenced with his lips upon hers. His talented tongue explored her mouth, her teeth, and duelled with her own. He broke away only to breathe. "No, my Hermione." His hands slipped under her blouse and began stroking the heated skin of her back. "I know very well what considering my suit means. Very well."

Could she risk it? Could she risk her heart and mind to try and find happiness with this man? This man, who had been broken, who'd had his whole life taken and given back to him in pieces, was asking her to help reshape his existence. Did she have the courage to do so?

Slowly, she nudged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her forehead against his. "I suppose if I must be subject to the Ordinance, I can think of no better person to drag along with me." She kissed his patrician nose. "Yes, I accept your suit."

She was not prepared to be pulled flush with his body in a tight embrace. "You won't regret it," Lucius assured her, words interspaced between kisses and licks to her neck and shoulders. He spelled away the rest of the buttons on her shirt and proceeded to unhook her bra, gradually freeing her body to his heated gaze. "I will lavish you with the richest fabrics, the most extravagant jewels, the best—"

"Lucius, no!" she protested. "I just want you."

"And you shall have me, witch," he purred, cupping her breasts in his hands, his thumbs circling her areolas, flicking her nipples with his nails. "So responsive." He dipped his head to taste her skin. "So succulent," he murmured.

All Hermione could do was hold onto him. He made her dizzy and lightheaded with need. When his hands strayed to the zip of her jeans, she halted his advance. "Do you really want to do this in the kitchen?"

His eyes were hooded with lust. "I have waited a long time to have you, Hermione. You don't know what kind of restraint I showed that night in the tent."

She laughed a little. "Lucius, you were sick."

"I'll have you know that, even in my weakest of states, I am not one to be trifled with." He continued to undo the rivet and lower the zip.

"Stop, please," she begged softly. "I don't want to lose my virginity on the kitchen counter."

His hands fisted and drew away. "You are untouched?" He stared at her, a fierce light residing in his eyes. "You are truly mine?"

Hermione smiled awkwardly. "If you still want me, yes." She'd barely finished her sentence before she was tugged forward so that she had to wrap her legs around Lucius trim waist to keep from being drooped to the floor.

"What started in that tent has ruled my waking and dreaming thoughts, Hermione," Lucius growled low and he buried his face in the crux of her neck. "I will wait until you are officially mine before I take something so precious from you."

She returned his embrace and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Thank you for that, Lucius, but honestly, we don't have to wait that long."

And they hadn't. Just long enough for them to make it to her bedroom where he had worshiped her body the way he had meant to that night so long ago. They kissed, they clung to one another as if each were a port in the storm, and when he'd entered her the first time, there had been a burning pain, soon outshined by the rapture he'd brought her to, over and over.

"What has you smiling so wantonly, love?" Lucius' soft question brought her out of her musings.

Hermione crawled over to sit alongside her husband and laid her head on his shoulder, loving the way he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her close. "I was remembering the time you asked me to consider your suit." A small chuckled escaped. "I must say, you were adorable in your tenacity."

He huffed in mock offense. "Malfoys are not adorable. We are dignified, austere and powerful. Never adorable."

"Oh, I see," she drawled, sitting up and shifting so that she straddled his lap. "So, you wouldn't agree to being adorable if it meant that we could—" She swivelled her hips against the noticeable bulge currently pressing into her mons. "—make love?"

Grey eyes rolled back into his head. "I am the most powerful ruler of all things adorable," he grunted, grasping the hem of her nightgown and rucking it up over her thighs.

"So easy," she purred liltingly and leaned forward to press her lips to his.

"Only for you," he agreed. He pushed aside his dressing gown to reveal his hardened length and tugged her closer, centring her so that she could feel the full affect of his arousal. "See what you do to me?"

Slipping beneath her knickers, his fingers deftly swirled around her aching nubbin and stroked the slick folds of her sex. A growl of frustration banished her knickers, and his fingers found a new angle to tease her with. "My beautiful wife," he cooed. "So needy and wet for me." He grasped her by the hip with his free hand, manoeuvred them into a more comfortable sitting position, and immediately started thrusting his pelvis forward, his heavy cock sliding easily between her nether lips. When her questing hands tugged on his hair, he encircled her wrist and brought it between their bodies.

"Touch me," he commanded her in a gruff voice, shifting so he could place her palm on his erection. He gasped when she instinctively began fisting it up and down. "Gods, yes," he moaned.

While Hermione had vague images of what Lucius looked like naked, she was now face to face with that reality in sharp detail. His cock was thick, its purplish head glistening with precome every time she pulled back his foreskin. She swiped her thumb over the tip to coat the digit, brought it to her mouth, and sucked the salty substance off the pad.

"Enough!" He had been watching her the entire time and looked ready to pounce the moment her thumb slipped between her lips. Pulling her in for a searing kiss, he growled against her mouth, "Inside, now."

This was it; there was no return after consciously having sex with Lucius for the first time. Fumbling, she placed the tip of him against her opening then eased herself down, letting out a choked sob of pleasure when he stretched and filled her. He sank in to the hilt, seated as far as humanly possible within her. His hands returned to her hips, to direct her over him back and forth, the friction eliciting a sweet ache deep in her womb and making them both groan in bliss.

His hands rhythmically grasped and released her arse with each delicious slide of her up and down his shaft, his thrusts alternating between slow and deep, hard and plunging. She had to wrap her arms around his shoulders to remain upright, which allowed him to place love bites along her slender neck.

Her core clenched when he began panting in her ear. "I have missed you. Your warmth surrounding me, making me whole."

"Ah, God... Lucius!"

He snapped his hips upwards, smiling when she shrieked as she was impaled on his cock. "Love how you respond to me, effortlessly, as if your last breath depends on me."

Her head lolled back. "Yes," she sighed, arching into him. "Need you."

"Why do you need me?" he snarled with another series of sharp thrusts. His eyes pleaded with her for something unknown.

Between the sound of their flesh smacking and the feel of him bottoming out inside her again and again, her legs began to tremble and her insides to quiver. "You make me feel safe, cherished," she sobbed.

He pulled back and he drove deep, causing her to whimper with need. "What else? Tell me, Hermione!"

He sounded so desperate to hear something from her, but she couldn't comprehend much beyond the churn of his hips, the winding of his cock inside her passage to hit spots she didn't know existed, leaving her breathless and desperate for relief from the divine torture of it all. His right hand strayed up to cup her breast, his forefinger and thumb twisting and tweaking the hardened bud, making her squeal. "Lucius! Oh, God... yes!"

Grasping her shoulders, he set up a punishing thrust, steadily increasing his pace, building the ache inside her core, making her walls clench. "Tell me!" he demanded.

And then, just as she was cresting the precipice, clarity found her. "Because I love you!" she screamed as every nerve in her body turned in on itself before exploding outward in waves.

Lucius' breath turned ragged. He cursed hoarsely and gripped her tightly, riding out the ripple of her orgasm, following her with his own. He was delivering short jerky thrusts, and she could feel the pulsing of his cock as he released himself in bursts that bathed her core with his seed.

Both clung to each other, panting and breathing heavily in the silence of the room. After several moments, Hermione sat up slowly, still impaled on Lucius' softening cock.

"That was—" She swallowed and touched her heated cheek. "—intense."

His smile was warm. "It is always this way between us." He tucked a wayward strand behind her ear, caressing the side of her face in the process, a pensive look edging into his eyes. "Did you mean it?"

She thought to play coy with him, but his gaze held uncertainty—something she was unused to seeing in the normally proud man. "Yes," she murmured before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. "Memories kept me near to you, even when I wanted to run in the other direction."

Lucius cleared his throat and took her hands between his own. "I think I may know why you fell," he began hesitantly.

She rose a little, shifting off his lap in fears that she might not like to hear his theory. "I was in the library."

He nodded in agreement. "You were searching in the biology section for possible answers." He reached out and rubbed at the dark smudges underneath her eyes. "You were ill this morning."

"I tried to be quiet," she said a little sheepishly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, you misunderstand, Hermione." He pulled her close and ran his hands up and down her arms. "You've been ill several mornings, yes?" She frowned but nodded. "I believe you were ill that morning and became dizzy whilst standing on the platform stairs. Vertigo can greatly affect women who are..."

She raised her eyebrows when he didn't say anything. "Women who are what, Lucius?"

"Women who are with child."

"What?" Her voice barely came out. Her vision began to tunnel. "Oh God... I'm... oh, God!" Bile crept up the back of her throat, and she lurched from the window seat to run for the bathroom, reaching it just in time to empty her stomach into the bowl.

She was grateful that he didn't say anything more but grabbed her tangled mess of hair and held it back while she became sick once more. When there was nothing feasibly left in her stomach, she sat on the tile floor with a groan. "Thank you."

He bent low over her, pressing a wet, cool flannel to her forehead. "How do you feel?"

"Like the world is constantly tilting and I can't make it stop." She looked at him with teary eyes. "Did you know?"

"Not at first." He helped her up, flushed the toilette, and cast a small Tergeo on her face and mouth before escorting her back to the bedroom and sitting her on the bed. "After Pomfrey examined you, however..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I thought it best to tell you once you had grasped the full context of your relationship with me. I think it would have been difficult for you to handle coming to grips with the facts that you were married to me and that you were pregnant, don't you agree?"

Hermione gave him a half-hearted glare. "I suppose."

"There is no supposition about it. From your displays of mistrust to your outright refusal to accept certain situations, the outcome for you and our child would have been grim, to say the least."

"Fine," she muttered, hating to agree with him on the specific subject. "But I still don't remember everything. Why did you tell me now?"

"Do you not know?" That yearning was back in his voice again, and she couldn't stand that she had put it there.

She leaned against the headboard, rubbing her temples, searching in her jumbled mind for the possible answer. Gratefulness did not begin to encompass the emotions coursing through her when Lucius took her hand.

"I wanted you to remember our love before I told you such a thing, Hermione," he spoke quietly. "You would not have wanted the burden of knowing about the pregnancy without knowing how it came about."

Damn, but he knew her so well. "I concede that fact." And she did see his logic concerning the situation. Had she known before she was ready that she was pregnant with his child, she would have gone around the bend and probably done something that she would've later regreted. As it was, she was still in shock, but it was tempered with knowing that the baby had been created by an obviously loving couple. "Is that why I was in the library? Searching for possible books on the first signs of pregnancy?"

He slipped back into bed, pulling her to him before answering. "I suspect that is the reason." He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. "How are you feeling now?"

"Sleepy," she murmured drowsily. "Stay with me while I nap?" Her eyes had already closed, but she heard his answer.

"I'd like to see anyone keep me from it."

She smiled and snuggled close to Lucius, quickly succumbing to Morpheus' sway and dreaming of the family yet to come.

Yes, this is the last chapter. I don't plan on a sequel. Thank you to all of those willing to leave a review. I really appreciate it!