Thanks for the lovely reviews for the previous chapter. This is the last one; a short but hopefully sweet fic. Wish I could have a dance like this ...

Thanks also for the likes on facebook. Do head over and like the Laurielove page if you haven't already. The link is near the top of my profile page. It means a lot and is a great way to keep in touch with me and what I'm up to. Lots of LM etc mancrushing goodies on offer too!

So ... what next for our two?

Hermione owled in sick for the rest of the day.

-xxoOoxx-

"We seem to have forgotten something," she stated several hours later as they lay together in the gathering dusk.

"What?"

"I have a boyfriend."

"Do you?"

"You know I do."

"Weasley," he slurred, almost choking on the word.

"He has a first name."

"Not as far as I'm concerned. They all blur into one indistinct russet haze of base vulgarity."

"Don't," she moaned.

"So why are you here?"

She didn't at first answer. "It's complicated."

He stroked her arm. He wasn't particularly bothered whether she was with the idiot or not as long as he could go on fucking her. In fact, he rather enjoyed screwing her senseless behind Weasley's back. And yet ... it would be nice to have a little more freedom to meet up, to spend time with her, to talk to her.

Talk to her? What the hell was he thinking? His interest in the Mudblood was purely physical. Wasn't it?

"If you are in the wrong relationship, you should not prolong it for either person's sake."

Had he really just said that? It had sounded considerate, rational. It had sounded ... caring! Bloody hell, what was happening to him?

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and trusting. He swallowed, almost unable to bear it. "If I leave him, what would we do?"

"I don't know." He really didn't.

"Well ... I suppose there's only one way to find out."

Should he have stopped her, put an end to any false hope? But he wanted her no matter what. Before he knew it, he had bent down and kissed the top of her head, giving his affirmation.

"Can you imagine?" she continued. "Me and you ... drinking Pimms at the Minister's garden party? Bloody hell. Well, no one could say the wizarding world wasn't making strides forward in terms of reconciliation and diversification."

"I suppose we could ... start slowly."

"Start slowly, Mr Malfoy?" she teased. "How exactly do you mean?"

"I mean ... perhaps a little weekend away somewhere discreet ... a few dinners out in intimate restaurants in far-flung locations ..." He meant every word. He couldn't fool himself anymore. Fucking her was merely the icing on the cake. He wanted all of her. (Admittedly, the icing was always the best bit of the cake. And he always ensured his house elves covered his cakes in copious amounts of it.)

Her deep brown eyes looked at him and she purred up sensually, "Slowly?"

"Slowly."

He was circling her clit with two fingers, gently, languidly ... slowly.

"Slowly ..." she repeated, her eyes closing.

He slipped down to take a nipple in his mouth and nuzzled at it, his tongue swirling it with infinite patience. His fingers never rushed but took endless time to build her pleasure yet again.

"Slowly," he hummed against her breast as he sensed her breath hitch.

"Slowly," he mused as his fingers felt her anticipation soaking them. She gasped in, desperate to hold back as long as possible, waiting, waiting for the perfect come.

"Slowly," he stated finally as he looked up and met her eyes and gave his consent. And gradually, progressively, she came ... slowly, building layer upon layer of deeper pleasure; slowly, aware and focused on each new ripple of ecstasy as it layered itself in her body and rendered her helpless.

They stayed in the hotel all night. When at last it was time to leave the next day, they kissed with remarkable tenderness. "I'm going to end it with Ron. I'll tell him immediately."

He kissed her again, remarkably content with her declaration.

-xxoOoxx—

Over the next few days they met up whenever they could, always secretly, always with desperation and frantic need, but after each time they missed the other more, craved their next meeting. Lucius owled her frequently, sending her little messages and parcels several times a day. He wished he could be there to gauge her reaction, but he could tell by the replies that she was adoring it.

Hermione tried that first night to break it off with Weasley, but he had been in a rush and the opportunity had not materialised. The same thing occurred over the next few days. Weasley was out a lot, which meant at least she and Lucius could spend time together without Hermione feeling obliged to be elsewhere.

The following week was the Ministry Yule Ball. Everyone who was anyone was going, apparently. Lucius had considered what it would be like to go with Hermione on his arm – rather delicious, but neither felt that it was the right time. In any case, she had still not been able to tell Weasley, who seemed to be either away or entirely distanced from his supposed girlfriend at every moment. How the hell they'd survived even three years together was beyond Lucius. But with regard to the ball, the ruddy runt was expecting her to go with him. He and Hermione would bide their time.

Biding his time was something Lucius was rather good at.

-xxoOoxx-

Lucius had considered taking someone else to the ball, but if truth be told, he had not looked at another woman since being with Hermione. He could have taken someone merely as a companion, of course; a little jealousy never hurt anyone ... much. But, no. He wished to be free from obligation to watch her. And he was sure they could spend significant amounts of deliciously illicit time together; it would remind him of their first encounter at the Library Dinner. He would go alone.

He saw her almost as soon as he entered the large Ministry ballroom. Her beauty seemed to spread out from her to capture and entrance those around her. For a time he hung back and simply watched. She was wearing a red dress, long and clinging, with an open V-shaped back. Her hair was piled in lustrous curls on top of her head and she threw her head back and laughed as she held a glass of champagne in her hand. Weasley hovered behind her, downing a glass quickly and glancing around as if he wished desperately to be somewhere else.

Hermione turned to look around and saw Lucius. Her eyes froze on him and her mouth curled up slowly into a thrilling smile. He smiled back.

A while later, they managed to steal a few short words while passing.

"You look beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy."

"Where's Weasley?"

"Don't know. He's here somewhere but I've barely seen him all night."

"Potter?"

"Not here. Training in Australia. I'm basically all on my little lonesome, apart, of course, from all the hundreds of unknown faces desperate to pretend they're my best friend."

"I could take you away."

"Now that I would adore. Unfortunately, we may have to wait a while." At that moment the Minister for Magic approached her and ushered her off for what looked like an intense conversation.

It seemed like an age before he could get anywhere near her again. But he wasn't going to waste it this time. The dancing had started and he'd watched as she had moved with heady eroticism to various fast-paced songs. Of course, it would take even more than the most sensual woman he'd ever met to get Lucius Malfoy up on a dance floor for those. But now the music slowed and couples started to form. That he could handle.

She was sitting, taking a drink on the side. He walked up smoothly.

"Miss Granger."

"Mr Malfoy?" she smirked.

"Dance?"

"I ..." He could tell she was suddenly wary. She glanced around the room apprehensively. He changed tack.

"Dance." This time it was not a question. He held his hand out. With a look up into his eyes, she slowly slipped her fingers into his and allowed him to guide her up.

It was relatively dark and crowded on the dance floor but still they turned heads as they made their way onto it and moved into each other. He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her against him, aware of a slight resistance on her part.

"Relax," he hissed.

"People are watching."

"I thought we were going to be together?" he teased.

"Yes, but Ron ..."

"We're only dancing. McGonagall's over there dancing with Shacklebolt. No one's thinking anything of that."

His hands held her tight, one just over her left hip, the other pressing into the small of her bare back, pushing her flush against him. This time she did not pull back. Her eyes closed and she gave herself over to him.

"Lucius ..." she sighed.

"Yes?"

"Love being with you ..."

"So do I."

"I want ..." her soft voice trailed off.

"What?" he murmured softly, for her ears only. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you."

"Do you?"

"So much."

"How exactly do you want me?"

"I want ... I want you to suck on me." She breathed her developing fantasy out for him as they swayed to the slow pulse of the music.

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

Their words were so soft, slipped sensuously onto the heady air just between the two of them.

"Specifically?"

"My breast."

"Which one?"

"Left one first."

"That's my favourite."

"I know."

"And then?"

"The other, and then back to the first." Her voice was becoming more breathy with each utterance. She pressed harder into him. He clasped her, his hand moving further down her hip.

"Just lips?"

"No, tongue. Lots of tongue. You have the perfect tongue ... and then ..."

"What?"

"Bite."

"Hard?"

"Not to start with."

"Carry on."

"Then down. Touch me."

"How do you feel?"

"I want you. I'm wet for you. I'm throbbing for you."

"What am I doing?"

"Fingers are sliding up into me. Hard up into me. Pushing and feeling and filling me."

"How many?"

"Two ... maybe more. Then out. Find my clit. Find it and rub it."

"How?"

"Rub around it. Then over it more gently, then around again hard. Then go down."

"Of course."

"Push me down and open me and find me with your mouth."

"What first?"

"Just the tip of your tongue, circling ..."

"And then?"

"More. I want your fingers inside me and suck me. Suck me hard. You do that so well. You do that so fucking well."

"More?"

"Put a finger up my arse."

"Of course. Two."

"Two."

"You can take it."

"I'll take all of you."

"Suck and suck and lick and suck and pull me to you."

Lucius had been focusing on her words, and was considering disapparating both of them to a bedroom somewhere within the next few minutes, but all the while he had retained a vague awareness of their surroundings. When his hand had slipped down to cup her arse and pull her harder against his gloriously erect cock, he'd known people had noticed, even if she, in her haze of erotic imaginings, had lost track of reason. She was so delirious with her fantasy that she had simply ground against him. His other hand was splayed wide across her back, naked where her dress opened up.

"And then I'm coming. Coming so hard, Lucius."

"I know," he purred against her ear.

"And then you'll turn me over and pull me back to you and drive into me."

"Drive into you?"

"Yes. Hard and fast and deep."

"In one?"

"Yes. First time, in so hard I scream."

"Does it hurt?" There was an edge to his voice. His cock was rock hard.

"Yes, it hurts so sweetly. Hurt me again. Pull out and do it again."

"Gladly."

"And again. Hold me fast for you. Hold me in your hands hard and fuck me."

"Fuck you," he repeated, pushing his groin firmly against her.

"Fuck me hard, Lucius."

"Always."

And then something made him glance up. Lucius saw him, Hermione didn't. The figure of a red-headed man was bearing down on them. His face was twisted with rage and he was practically pushing people out of the way to get to them.

Lucius smirked, tightened his grip on the man's girlfriend, and lowered his head to nuzzle on the exposed flesh of her neck. Hermione moaned in pleasure.

Ronald Weasley reached them at that moment. Grabbing both of them by one shoulder he ripped them apart and shoved Lucius hard back. The blond man took several steps backward but was able to steady himself quickly enough.

"What the fuck d'you think you're doing, Malfoy?"

"Dancing. Like everyone else."

"You know what the fuck I mean. You were practically screwing her right here, you fucking bastard!"

"Charming. How dare you speak in that way in front of a lady."

"Cock! How dare you paw her with your fucking blood-stained hands, you sick perv!"

"Ron." Weasley ignored Hermione's voice.

"You fucking cunt." He pushed Lucius' breast bone hard with his forefinger. "Stay away."

"Ron. Not here."

He turned to her, furious.

"And what the hell do you think you were doing letting him grope you like that?" Although the music had moved onto a loud and fast song, people were still stopping and staring openly at the three of them, fully aware of the confrontation and who it involved.

Hermione grabbed the younger man's arm and dragged him off the dance floor and around a quiet corner. Lucius followed at a discreet distance.

Hermione sighed before speaking plainly. "Ron, I've been trying to tell you, but every time you've shut down on me or we haven't had a moment to speak or you've been out."

"Tell me what?" He caught a glimpse of Lucius out of the corner of his eye. "Fuck off, Malfoy!"

"No. He needs to be here."

Weasley's eyes widened with horror and he looked from one to the other.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Ron. It's over between us. It has been for some time. I've tried and I've tried to tell you but ... you just haven't been around. We never talk anymore. I barely see you."

"But ... you're not ... you can't be ... with ... him?" He said the last word with a catch in his voice.

She sighed. "Yes. I am."

"What?"

"I didn't want it to come out like this. I didn't want it to be this way. Why did you have to do that?"

"You were the one practically letting him give you one on the dance floor!"

Lucius smiled to himself at the thought.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry. But it's for the best," Hermione continued, her voice certain.

Ron looked away, his face twisted with incomprehension and disbelief. "But, it was supposed to be me who ..."

"What do you mean?" she queried.

He shook his head. "Never mind."

"Ron ... it hasn't been right for ages, you know that. We've just been ignoring it."

He glanced up at her, and there was a look of corroboration in his eyes and something akin to shame. Lucius noticed it as he approached them both and took hold of Hermione's arm. But any contrition on Weasley's part quickly melted away when he saw Lucius' fingers curl around the arm of the woman he'd until now called his own.

He snarled, "Go to hell, both of you! Fuck knows what your future will be like. Fucking crazy. Don't expect me to comfort you when it all comes crashing down."

"Oh, I won't Weasley, don't worry," drawled Lucius with a teasing smirk.

The younger man immediately turned and swung a right-hook at Lucius, but he was ready for it and swerved, avoiding it narrowly. His immediate response, a remarkably elegant upper-cut, was not so easily avoided and caught Weasley flush across the left side of the jaw then up along the nose. It floored him.

Lucius shook out the pain in his fist and sneered down at the supine man beneath him. Weasley clutched his nose in his hands, trying to stem the blood pouring from it.

"Fucki' 'ell! You'b broken by fucki' doze!"

"Lucius!" Hermione tutted loudly and bent to Ron, withdrawing her wand. Lucius simply adjusted his robes.

"Episkey," she intoned, waving her wand fluidly over the broken bone.

Ron moaned even louder as his broken nose crunched back into place.

"Ron! What's happened to you?" A shrill voice broke the air.

Hermione and Lucius turned to see a distraught and curiously orange young woman suddenly rushing over. She dropped to her knees beside Ron, which made her already remarkably short pink dress ride up even higher, placed urgent hands on his chest and stroked up to his head. When she saw Hermione her eyes flared with fear and she tried to rein in her clear anxiety, pulling back from him a little and suddenly becoming overly preoccupied with her hair.

"Who are you?" demanded Hermione.

"I'm ..." The girl pursed her lips and spat down to the man still lying helplessly on the ground. "Ron! I thought you'd told her!"

Hermione crossed her arms and waited. "Told me what?"

Lucius, for his part, leant back against the wall to gain a more comfortable position from which to watch the proceedings.

"I'm Tamara."

"Tamara? And how exactly do you know Ronald, Tamara?" Hermione's lips tightened and her eyebrows rose expectantly.

"We ... I ... we've ... we're ... well, I might as well tell you – I thought he'd already told you. We've been seeing each other."

"Oh." Hermione turned her glare down to her now very much ex-boyfriend. "And were you ever going to see fit to mention this to me, Ronald?"

"Don't call me that."

"So it's alright for you to have a bit on the side, but not me."

"At least I wasn't going at it with a Death Eater in full –"

"Former Death Eater," chipped in Lucius.

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy! - going at it with a Death Eater in full view of much of the wizarding population!"

"Well –" Hermione's face was pinched and her eyes darted around. Nobody was guilt-free in this situation, but hell hath no fury like a Granger scorned, even if the outcome ultimately suited everyone. She rounded on them bitterly. "At least that's all out in the open! Hello, Tamara, I'm Hermione Granger. You are most welcome to my ex-boyfriend. I wish you every success with him. Just a few words of warning: he leaves his toe-nail clippings on the floor of the bathroom; he will never learn not to eat with his mouth wide open and in fact thinks it's even better if he's laughing at the same time; he never puts the loo seat down and leaves drips all over the rim; he'll only go down on you if he's completely pissed which means that the experience is rather like being gone at by an inebriated Basset Hound; and I should imagine it will only take him about a month before he asks you to sniff his farts under the bedclothes. Enjoy!"

Before Lucius could even raise a smile, Hermione had grabbed him by the hand and dragged him from the site, leaving Tamara gawping down as Ron staggered to his feet.

-xxoOoxx-

"Well," Lucius mused. "All's well that ends well."

"She's welcome to him."

"Quite so. After that little revelation I should imagine your conscience is reasonably unscathed."

He appraised her. It was clear her pride had been dented by her boyfriend's infidelity, even though her behaviour hardly left her much to assume the moral high-ground. Hermione stood for a moment, her face slumped, before tuning into the sound of another slow dance emanating from the main room. "Come on," she stated, suddenly determined.

She gripped Lucius' hand and pulled him onto the middle of the dance floor. Now people openly stared.

"Our last dance was rudely interrupted," she said. "Let's finish it properly this time."

Hermione pulled his hands tight in around her waist and curled hers around his neck. Her hips swayed sensuously, prompting his cock to twitch to life immediately. She was pressing hard against him, obviously and erotically, grinding and moving. If he could have taken her right there on the floor, he would have.

And then the hands around his neck pulled him down and he stared into a bright face, warm and welcoming. "Kiss me," she murmured.

If a flicker of hesitation passed through the mind of Voldemort's past favourite as he considered kissing the Muggle-born war heroine in full view of the great and good of wizarding society, it was dismissed instantly as her face broke into the most sensuous and enticing smile he'd ever seen.

And so, allowing his mouth to curl up into a smirk of supreme Malfoy satisfaction, he bent his head and did as she asked.

Bliss.

Lots of love to you all. xxx

(whispers subliminally - facebook, remember facebook ...)