PART TWO

Life, it seemed, returned to normal. Hermione knew as soon as she stepped into her flat that she wouldn't be seeing either of the Malfoys outside of office hours again. It was the only way that the world as any of them knew it could go on.

And yet, something stopped her from moving on, from accepting that anything and everything between them had finished. She glanced down at the boxed Patented Daydream Charm in her hand, thinking back to what Lucius Malfoy had been saying only minutes before. It still bothered her that he wasn't the evil, malicious man she had always assumed him to be. The only real thing she could accuse him of being in their latest encounter was deceitful, but it was hardly something that clocked up to being criminal or particularly evil. People were deceitful all the time, including Hermione herself, though she hated to admit it.

She looked towards the bedroom, knowing that behind the closed door slept the victim of her greatest deception: Ron.

A sigh escaped her lips as she sat down gracelessly on the sofa and tossed the box from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes onto the nearby coffee table. Something had to be done about Ronald Weasley, but she couldn't quite tell what. Her feelings for him remained unreadable and indefinable, crossing the lines of sibling friendship and romantic interest in what seemed to be all the wrong places. She had to admit she was scared at the thought of leaving behind the comfort and familiarity of their love for good, but deep down, it felt like the right change to make.

Hermione sighed again, her wandering gaze falling back on the box of daydreams. She thoughtfully tapped a forefinger against her lower lip. Then, she gave up resistance and threw all caution to the wind as she reached for the box, opening it and watching as swirls of pinkish mist tumbled out in smoky coils that slowly, caressingly, passed over her face.

'Somnio,' she whispered and closed her eyes.

The pale, rosy haze filling her view gently rolled to the edges of her gaze, leaving her to look out into a small, sparsely-furnished room. For a moment, the dark, panelled walls and antiquated décor seemed vague and only just familiar, but then she realised it was the room in the Leering Lion and she felt herself solidify.

A fire dancing in the hearth flicked away at the shadows while a small candelabrum in the opposite corner shed a little light on the far side of the room, the weakness of its rays leaving a margin of dimness in the middle of the room where an old double bed stood. Hermione walked over to it, touching the rich, dark wood of the footboard before sinking down onto the bed itself, the silk sheets pooling slightly around her. They were dove grey, soft, and sensual, and at once discreet.

There was the sound of a quiet click and Hermione looked up, seeing the only door in the room open inwards to let in a man, tall in height and edges made indistinct by the shadows. She smiled, feeling as though she had been waiting for the man all along, even though his face seemed strangely invisible to her and he was nearly indistinguishable in his black attire.

The man closed the door behind him and came to her with measured steps.

Hermione smiled wider then and lay back against the pillows, realising that she was wearing her favourite crimson negligee. She thought the man smiled, but couldn't quite tell. The roseate tinge at the edge of her vision expanded slightly before curling back almost out of sight. A sliver of firelight crossed the man's face and briefly caught his soft brown eyes as he sat down next to her on the bed, one hand reaching out to gently stroke Hermione's bare thigh.

She sighed contentedly and shifted into his touch, shivering slightly as his cool fingertips dragged a trail up and up until his hand disappeared under her negligee. The ghostly sensation sparked her arousal and Hermione wanted him to kiss her, so he leaned over her until his lips brushed gently against hers.

'Oliver,' Hermione murmured against him as her hand passed through the dark curls on his head, the locks straightening out even as her fingers ran through them. She paused to think when she felt his hair growing sleeker and longer; far longer than it should have been.

Hermione focused and looked directly up at the pale face of Lucius Malfoy, his eyes gleaming pale grey while one corner of his mouth quirked up in a faint smirk.

'You?'

'Were you expecting somebody else?' he asked, very much in his usual drawl. Hermione could only stare at him in astonishment, unable to figure out what he was doing there. She remained rigid in shock as he leaned over her again to kiss her, the feel of his lips tugging lightly at hers making her fear and resistance melt into nothing.

'Why are you here?' she managed to ask between gasps as one of his fingers grazed against her sex that was barely covered by a thin pair of lace knickers.

'Surely you don't expect me to pleasure you and answer your questions?' he said as he pulled away and looked down at her with a lazy smile.

'I don't even like you,' Hermione said with a frown as her mind began ticking. The rose-coloured cloud threatened to roll back over her view. 'You shouldn't be here.'

'Well, that is hardly my problem,' Lucius Malfoy said as his free hand languidly cupped one of her breasts, causing Hermione to arch suddenly with a slight whimper. 'After all, this is your dream, Miss Granger. Clearly, you must want me here, with you, touching you, pleasuring you …'

Hermione let herself relax into him and saw the rosy-coloured mist retreat again. 'Oh, gods, yes …' she breathed into the warm air as his thumb dragged across a nipple that hardened almost immediately, the sheer material of her negligee presenting the finest of barriers between touch and sensation. Lucius Malfoy quietly laughed in the back of his throat and Hermione felt her knickers grow damp.

'This isn't right, Mr Malfoy,' she said in a dazed attempt to protest against what seemed both wrong and natural. 'It can't be.'

'Perhaps you should call me Lucius, since we are to be getting rather … intimate.' At the last word, he stroked her clit through the fabric of her knickers and Hermione choked back a cry. The hand on her breast squeezed slightly and slipped under her negligee to caress her flushed skin.

'Lucius,' Hermione repeated, liking the feel of the name on her tongue. All else was forgotten as arousal swelled up inside her, pushing away all her thoughts and memories. Lucius smiled at her again before bending down and opening her mouth with his own, sliding a tongue inside to stroke and beckon her before retreating.

She felt his fingers, long and slender, hooking under the scrap of lace hiding her from him and tugging steadily downwards. Hermione raised her hips and felt the tingle of air brushing against her moistness, causing her to draw a quick breath and inhale the deep, intoxicating scent of his cologne. He smelt of cedar and mandarin and musk and sheer divinity. She barely noticed as he tossed her underwear carelessly behind him.

'Does it still not feel right?' Lucius murmured in her ear before nuzzling her, one finger poised down below and making slick circles against her.

Hermione simply squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on the feeling that was causing her legs to tremble and her hands to clench the sheets beneath her. There was a whisper of robes as Lucius shifted over to kneel before her, one hand taking a hold of her leg and raising it to spread her before him, his other hand still toying with her down below. He was, Hermione noticed, still fully clothed, but it only seemed to make her more aroused to be in a more exposed state of dress than him.

She drew a sharp breath when she felt a finger slip into her and stroke her inside, the teasing sensation making her lift her hips up again, desperate to press herself against something. Relief was given to her as Lucius drew out and slowly, firmly rubbed his palm against her mound, though it was a pleasure gained from the loss of another.

'Please, more,' Hermione heard herself say breathlessly as she rose up against the pressure of his hand. She thought he might have smirked, but didn't have time to look for it as she felt two fingers push up into her with a small thrust.

This time, she cried out, fondling her own breast with one hand while the other gripped at the front of Lucius' robes. Her hand slid down as his fingers began pushing in and out of her, and she felt his erection pressing against the front of his trousers. A groan rose up in Lucius' throat at her touch, but he swallowed it back down and quickened the pace of his fingers.

It was far from being enough when she knew there was so much more he could give her, but Hermione still felt herself tightening and coiling up, aching to spring open and undone.

The soft, luxurious material of his robes brushed against her as he leaned over her once more to capture her lips in his own, his free hand coming up to knead her breast. Hermione drank him in and wriggled and writhed under him as the indescribable feeling of euphoria burned harder and brighter and vaster …

She sat up with a start, panting and flustered as the rosy mist wrapped around her one last time before dispelling into the air completely. A bewildered glance around told her that she was lying on the sofa of her living room, far away from the Leering Lion and all the heaving passions and secret longings kept within that one small room.

Under the sensible view of her waking mind, she was alarmed to realise that Lucius Malfoy had been the one she had been fantasising about. In the light, she couldn't see anything about him that made him worthy of a guest appearance in her dreams, and it worried her that she was thinking about him in such way. Even though she now knew he was capable of more admirable traits, she didn't think that was any excuse to start lusting after the man.

The fact that she had felt even more incredible dreaming about him than she had felt about Oliver only added to her bemusement and unease. It seemed completely out of order, for she had been guilty of finding Oliver quite attractive since Ginny had reintroduced them several months back, but Lucius Malfoy …?

Hermione groaned, both in despair and frustration at having been left hanging. She really was going to have to speak to George Weasley about extending the thirty minute limit on the daydreams. After all, it wasn't the first time she had been brought so close to the point of release, only to be dumped back into the blank, indifferent arms of reality.

Blaming her overactive subconscious for presenting such a bizarre scenario, she dragged herself off the couch and headed to the bedroom, peeping in to see Ron already buried under the sheets, softly snoring. She sighed. Suddenly, even Lucius Malfoy in the room of a sordid little pub seemed more welcoming than the bleak routine presented before her. Especially if he was going to murmur things to her in that voice of his again …

Hermione blinked and shook her head. It occurred to her that the Patented Daydream Charm might have been corrupted, but on second thoughts, she realised it was a silly thought, as there could be no reason for Lucius to want to be in her dreams.

Feeling rather let down and robbed of more than just her release, she gave herself up to reality and slowly went about clambering into bed.

'So it wasn't even real?'

A weary exhale. 'Yes.'

'Gods, Hermione, you must've felt like a right idiot after that.'

'I did,' said Hermione, voice rather flat. 'And I still do.'

'Well, at least it's over. It's not like he's got any dirt on you.' Ginny lowered her magazine to glance over at Hermione. 'You haven't seen either him or the Ferret since then, right?'

Hermione didn't look away from her book. 'No. There are no more Malfoys in my life.'

'Well, it better stay that way if you're actually going to marry Ron. I don't think he'd appreciate them.'

'Who would?' Hermione said in half-hearted disdain. 'I'm just glad it was nothing more than a dream and everything's fine.'

'Was it a very good dream?' Ginny asked, somewhat slyly. Hermione looked up at her blankly as they sat in the back garden of the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow.

'I guess so …?'

'Mm … I bet Oliver's pretty good in real life as well.'

'Oliver?' Hermione asked with a frown, before she remembered. 'Oh, yes. Oliver.'

Ginny's eyes narrowed slightly. 'Did you daydream about someone else?'

'Um …'

'It wasn't McLaggen, was it?'

'What? No. Definitely not.' Hermione couldn't quite hold back an expression of revulsion. 'There's absolutely no way I'd ever dream about him, unless it was a nightmare. I think he already fills the criteria pretty well in waking life, though.'

'But it was someone else.'

Hermione cursed herself for not being able to lie well. 'Er, no. There wasn't anyone else, or any other dreams. Just that one of Oliver Wood, which I probably wouldn't have had if I hadn't been really drunk.'

'It's weird Malfoy didn't … well, do anything when you were drunk in a room.' An uncomfortable expression settled briefly on Ginny's shapely face. 'I would've thought he might've had some kind of, you know, "dark" designs to carry out on you.'

'He did,' Hermione replied straight-forwardly before realising that her friend meant something quite different. 'Oh, I mean, he pretended to blackmail me. That's pretty dark, isn't it?'

Ginny merely sniffed. 'It's petty and trying too hard to be clever, not dark. I mean, I thought he might've been planning to –'

'I don't think he's interested in Muggle-borns like that.' Hermione paused. 'Or women.'

'You mean he's gay?'

'What?' Hermione said, completely taken aback by the notion. 'No, I just mean that he doesn't seem to like taking advantage of women. Or that's at least what he said.'

'Well, if there's anything you need to learn, Hermione, it's that you just can't trust what a Malfoy says. Ever.'

'I know, but I really think he meant it.' She thought back to Lucius' words and expression. 'There was just something about him then that made me believe him.'

'It was probably a Confundus Charm,' Ginny remarked offhandedly as she turned a page of Witch Weekly. 'Or else he was using a bit of Imperius.'

'He wouldn't do that. He's not stupid.'

Hermione felt slightly nervous when Ginny looked up at her sharply, her gaze hardened by suspicion. She quickly turned her attention to her book, willing herself to sink back into the words that seemed suddenly quite dry and boring.

'You know, you're playing a dangerous game, Hermione,' Ginny warned her in a low tone. 'Imagining good things about someone who is, to be honest, beyond hope of ever being decent.'

'I don't know what you mean.'

'And you're rubbish at lying.'

Hermione couldn't argue with that, so she kept her eyes trained on the words printed across the pages in front of her and said nothing. She just knew that she'd give herself away if she spoke any further.

'If you so much as dare to have weird thoughts about Lucius Malfoy, I'm taking you straight to St. Mungo's to have your brain examined and you can thank me later.'

'They're not weird,' Hermione said, half-protesting, half-pleading.

'So you are actually having weird thoughts about him?'

'No! Well, not weird ones, whatever that means.'

'It means you're thinking about him in a totally unsuitable context; i.e. any context that doesn't show him for what he is – a money-hungry psycho with major issues.'

'He loves his son,' Hermione offered as a kind of argument, though Ginny remained unimpressed.

'Dragons love their eggs,' the redhead countered brusquely, 'but that doesn't make them good mothers.'

'Actually, I think you'll find that dragons are –'

'Don't get pedantic with me, Hermione Granger!' Ginny snapped, shutting Hermione up. 'You've got to stop hiding behind all those facts and look at what's real.'

'What is real?' Hermione asked, feeling a bit helpless all of a sudden.

'Lucius Malfoy – any Malfoy – is off-limits and bad for your health. You're not going to have disgusting thoughts about him just because you thought for a moment that he was being nice. He's not. That's a pure fact right there, and it's one that you can and should remember all the time.'

'I don't know,' Hermione said, wearily lowering her book into her lap, having realised that her friend's indignant rage was only half as fierce as the discontentment gnawing at her. 'I think we've all been too quick to judge. I mean, look at Draco; he was such a … prat back at school, but he's fine now. There's nothing to say that Lucius Malfoy, or anyone else, couldn't do the same.'

'But he's part of a bunch of bigoted morons who just can't get it through their thick skulls that they're no better than anyone else because of their "pure" blood. And the only reason why Ferret doesn't buy into all that anymore is because he's part of our generation; he probably figured out that the world really doesn't work like that.'

'Then you're saying that Lucius Malfoy simply doesn't know any better.'

Ginny pursed her lips. 'I guess. Although I doubt he'd change even if he did.'

'But don't you see how damaging that is, Ginny?' Hermione said, filled with the same kind of fire that she had felt when taking on the case of house-elf slavery back in her schooldays. 'You're judging in the same way that people like the Malfoys judge everyone; your opinions are all based on prejudice.'

Ginny stared hard at her, which unnerved Hermione a little, but she firmly stood her ground, having realised that it was the issue of prejudice that she really wanted to be thinking about. The other girl seemed determined to stick to her views, which was understandable, given how the Weasleys had always suffered for daring to attempt a little equality, but Hermione could see that the reciprocated spite wasn't doing anything to fix the situation.

'Think of it as saving yourself the effort of hating someone without even knowing them,' Hermione said more gently, seeing the bitter expression on her friend's face. 'Hatred only drains you; I suppose that's why there's love and forgiveness. They fill you up.'

'But he gave me that diary,' Ginny murmured, looked pained for a moment. 'What kind of … monster does that to a kid? I almost died. But what's worse than that, I was betrayed by someone who I thought was a friend.' She paused and winced. 'I really believed in Tom.'

Hermione bit her lip, never having heard Ginny speak fully on the matter. She waited on tenterhooks as the younger witch bit her lip and stared ahead of her with a pained frown.

'I think the betrayal hurt more than anything,' the younger witch admitted at length. 'I never felt so abandoned and ashamed in my whole life.'

Knowing it would not be rebuffed, Hermione reached out with a hand to touch Ginny's limp one and grasp it firmly, warmly. She smiled sympathetically when Ginny squeezed back and attempted a watery smile.

'I guess that's why I hate Lucius Malfoy. I always wanted him to know just how shit I felt, and all because of him and his stupid plan to ruin Dad.'

'Don't worry, I think Voldemort hurt him just as much as he hurt you. Remember how he looked after the battle?'

Ginny frowned and shook her head slightly. 'I don't remember. Scared, wasn't it?'

'Mm. And it can't have been an easy time in Azkaban either. I'm sure he's learnt a thing or two about life since then.'

'He'd better have,' Ginny said threateningly. 'Otherwise, I'm going to have to teach him a lesson myself.'

Hermione simply smiled, glad to have her friend back.

Two more weeks, and it felt as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened in Hermione's life. She was in a supposedly stable relationship with an affectionate boyfriend, her work was receiving praise from the relevant quarters and no one had noticed that a couple of prophecy records in the Department of Mysteries had been smashed. Life was just great.

Hermione exhaled impatiently and tapped her foot as she waited for the lift to ascend, feeling unusually restless and that she was lacking something. Worried that analysing it would lead to paths less tread and potentially dubious, she simply assumed her disquiet came from having finished a large workload for the week and having practically nothing to do for the rest of the day.

The lift pinged open and she forced out a smile as yet another couple of wizards strolled in, the ease with which they talked and smiled and laughed irking her somewhat. She was convinced that she should have been as light-hearted and happy as them since everything appeared to be just the way she wanted it. One of the wizards snorted just as she finished that thought, and she glanced at him questioningly before realising that he was sharing a joke with his friend.

Her patience wore thin as the lift stopped once again, opening to admit several more Ministry workers into the limited space. The air grew slightly hotter and smiles tightened. Hermione stepped back to give the newcomers more space and blinked upon finding herself almost toe to toe with Draco Malfoy.

He barely gave any sign of greeting, his face bearing a veil of tiredness.

'Granger,' he said in a barely audible murmur.

'Hello, Draco,' Hermione returned through the corner of her mouth, conscious of drawing her fellow passengers' attention as an awkward, stifling silence bulged over them. Instead, she tuned her focus and studied Draco as inconspicuously as she could, feeling a mixture of curiosity and concern as she noticed flecks of dishevelment and dreariness in his otherwise sleek, groomed appearance.

After what seemed too long a time, they arrived at the floor housing the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Hermione, along with Draco and a couple of witches, stepped out into the wide corridor. Draco gave her a quick sideways glance and made to stalk off in the direction of his office, but Hermione stopped him with a light touch to the elbow, surprising them both with the oddly familiar gesture.

'Um, Draco … I just wanted to ask … how you were.'

Draco looked at her, slightly suspicious. 'I'm fine.' He paused and looked as though he had taken a minor dose of poison as he reluctantly asked, 'How are things with you?'

'Good,' Hermione said, both amused and worried that it seemed to pain him to make small talk with her. 'I mean, everything's all right, I suppose.'

Draco nodded. 'That's good.'

'Yes.'

They stood stiffly in the deserted hallway, feeling the burden of an awkward silence that engulfed them in a little bubble. From down the corridor, Hermione could hear people talking and the other sounds of work life, but it all seemed rather distant and disjointed. Draco fidgeted slightly, but continued to try and show a toughened exterior.

'How is your father?' she asked at length, trying not to think about the way her heartbeat quickened a bit.

Draco looked surprised, then paused to think. 'He is … well, I think. He is rather preoccupied with a project concerning Gringotts. They have asked him to take a post there.'

'That must make him over the moon,' Hermione said wryly, imagining that a bank was the perfect place for someone like Lucius to work at. Perhaps he could even replace the dragon they had kept down there; she thought his money-loving tendency would make him suitably protective of any hoard assigned to him.

'It keeps him distracted,' Draco replied with a smile that looked slightly bitter. 'Gives him less time to think about me.'

'Did you get your allowance yet?'

Draco nodded, slowly turning and beginning to walk. Hermione joined him, careful to keep at least a foot of space between them.

'I decided I couldn't wait for the legal complications to be sorted, so I took my mother's name.'

Hermione stared up at him incredulously. 'You gave up being a Malfoy?' She wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

'No, of course not. I'm just Malfoy-Black for the time being. I'm certain my father won't let it go on for long, though.'

'And what about Astoria? Are you still going to marry her?'

He pursed his lips and frowned. 'Not here, I shouldn't think.'

'You mean your father won't let you?'

'He has no say in the matter,' Draco replied coolly, although it was obvious to Hermione that Lucius continued to hold the reins, and rather tightly at that. 'However, I know he doesn't approve, so I thought it best to get married at my mother's. She has showed enough acceptance to make up for my father's lack of support.'

'That doesn't seem very fair,' Hermione remarked. 'You're basically being forced to elope.'

'Life's not fair, Granger,' he told her with a slight sneer, although Hermione didn't think it was really directed at her. 'I don't want to have my wedding at some stranger's house, but if it means I get to marry Astoria, then it is hardly an obstacle.'

Hermione looked up at him again, feeling her throat constrict slightly. The determination which set Draco's face and with which he loved Astoria Greengrass was unexpectedly moving. That it was delivered in cool, stiff words was neither here nor there; she could tell he loved his fiancée unreservedly and it made her question her own love and impending marriage. What she had with Ron seemed to pale in comparison to Draco's adoration of Astoria, his love clearly so great that it could not be kept under his fastidious control and simply had to be expressed.

'You should try your father again,' she suggested as they turned a corner and his office came into sight. 'He's probably just worried about losing you, but maybe if you could convince him that marrying Astoria won't mean leaving him behind …'

'It's no use,' Draco said flatly. 'I have tried explaining things in every way imaginable, but he refuses to listen. And you should know, my father was never a very good listener to begin with.'

'No, I guess not,' Hermione conceded as they came to stand outside the door of his office. She glanced up at the golden nameplate and noticed that it had been altered, now reading Draco U. Malfoy-Black.

D.U.M.B.

She squashed a smirk and turned her attention back to Draco, who was frowning again as he studied the colour of his trousers. Catching his dejected look, she felt pity stir within her and quite suddenly, she had an idea.

'Draco, you would really like to be married at your manor, wouldn't you?'

He quickly straightened up. 'Of course.'

'And are you coming to the Order Commemoration Ball?'

'Unfortunately, yes.'

'Great. Make sure you bring your father along at whatever cost and don't elope before then. It's less than a fortnight from now, so I think you can wait just a bit longer.'

Draco arched an eyebrow. 'Why do you want me to bring my father?'

'Let's just say that I would like a few words with him about the imaginary hell he made me go through. Get some closure on it, so to speak.' She looked at him confidently when he continued to appear doubtful. 'You'll be benefiting from this, too, so don't think it's all for me.'

'Not that I trust you, Granger, but I should warn you that even if I tried, there is no guarantee that my father would attend. It is hardly the kind of social circle that he is used to moving around in, and it's not like he has an interest in Dumbledore's Order.'

'True, but wasn't he friends with Professor Snape?' She was satisfied when Draco reluctantly gave a nod. 'Well, then, you could just tell him to attend for his sake. After all, that's what good friends do; they stick up for each other, regardless of time and place.'

'You mean you want me to guilt-trip my father?'

'Yes, if that's what it takes. It's hardly a crime. Plus, extremely good things will come of it that will make up for any bad things you feel.'

'You know, for someone so bloody righteous and good, you seem rather accustomed to taking on double standards when it's convenient.'

Hermione grew flushed and did feel a bit guilty, but she was sure the greater picture could afford a smidgeon of blurring lines and ethics this one time. Luckily, Draco pursued the point no further, clearly too wrapped up in his own thoughts and problems to bother with taunting her. It was possibly the only upside of having him wallowing in misery, as a forlorn Draco had no time to indulge his snide sense of humour.

'Maybe I don't always play fair, but I don't really think this situation with your father calls for it.' She looked at him with a small smile. 'And besides, I'm only human.'

Draco merely shook his head and looked disdainful as he took the hand she offered him and shook it firmly.

Hermione looked dolefully at her reflection in the mirror, seeing a sullen young woman in a crimson satin dress that suddenly seemed to be too bold for her paled complexion. Her hair, which had been in rich curls after hours of effort, was now rising up in its usual frizz and eluding all the clips she had carefully set in place. Mascara had smudged in the corner of one eye.

'Well, that's what you get if you decide to have a lover's argument in the middle of getting ready,' the full-length mirror told her haughtily. 'You should have either gotten rid of him a long time ago, or done it after the ball. Now you're going to have to start all over again.'

'I don't think I want to go anymore,' Hermione said as she slowly began pulling pins out of her hair. 'I can't bear the thought of having to see him there after what we said.'

'Shouted, I think, would be a more accurate description of your verbal exchange,' the mirror said primly. 'And you simply must go, or else he will think you a coward.'

'I really don't care.' She slowly began getting undressed, much to the mirror's indignation.

'Look here, young lady, you are going to that ball, is that clear? You owe it to yourself to prove that you are indeed better off without him.'

Hermione stopped undressing and sat down on her bed, feeling quite lost and hopeless for a moment. The night had definitely not started well, and her fight with Ron left her in too low spirits to want to join in any kind of celebrations. It occurred to her that mourning clothes would be better suited for that moment, as she had just seen the stressful end of a three-year relationship, and she was sure the break-up this time was permanent.

'A tie.' She flopped back onto the bed and stared blankly up at the ceiling. 'I can't believe we broke up because of a tie.'

'A wonky tie or a sordid affair; there's no difference when it comes to a fight,' the mirror said superciliously. 'Any excuse will do if there is enough spite involved.'

'I guess it was a long time coming,' Hermione admitted, thinking back to Ron's look of shock when she had blurted out a long list of his faults that had been grinding away at her tolerance for months. She felt ashamed at having lost it during what she had hoped would be a mature, civilised discussion, but she had underestimated the force of the emotions that had burst out of their usual confines in her heart. She could only wish that she had been a little more understanding and detached.

Trying to imagine cool composure led her to think of Draco, and she wondered whether he had managed to convince his father to come to the ball. She thought that Lucius would have a hard time weighing his options, recognising the opportunity to schmooze his way back into society, while at the same time acknowledging that he would be trying to suck up to those he despised the most.

Hermione sat up and stared hard at the mirror, thinking of the injustices being scattered about the world and steeling herself to address the ones that were in her power to fix. The love between her and Ron might not have survived, but it was no reason to let the love of others be crushed when it could be saved. And she knew she could save Draco's; it was only a matter of a little willpower and cunning.

'I'll go,' she said out loud, 'but not for myself.'

'Well, that's better than not going at all,' the mirror reasoned. 'Just make sure you look absolutely stunning; we want you to take everyone's breath away, especially that man of yours. It's the only way to get him back.'

'Oh, I don't want Ron back,' Hermione said with more nonchalance than she actually felt. 'We're quite over, and maybe have been for a while now.'

Had the mirror had eyebrows, it would have raised them. 'Is there somebody else that you are seeking to impress, then?'

'What? No. No, not at all.' Hermione turned away and rummaged around for her bottle of Sleekeazy's Super-Strength Hair Potion. 'But I do owe it to someone else to turn up. I think I owe them quite a lot, actually, seeing as they're the one that showed me what love is and what it's not.'

'That sounds rather romantic,' the mirror said, sounding oddly wistful. Hermione straightened up, bottle in hand, and considered Draco for a moment.

'Yes, I suppose it does. Which is odd, given where it's coming from.'

'Life is full of mysteries, the least of all which is love,' the mirror said wisely, though Hermione couldn't help but wonder how on earth a mirror would know anything about life or love. 'You have only to look at yourself to realise how strange it all is; after all, you were going to marry that young man!'

'What's so strange about that?' Hermione asked with a frown, not liking it when the mirror tittered and gave off a discernibly pitying air, though how it managed to do so when it was only a sheet of glass was another question entirely.

'You can hardly say the two of you were well-matched,' the mirror scoffed. 'Perhaps you thought the differences were able to be breached with the presence of love, but you were never going to be equals in anything.'

'Well, no, I wouldn't say that …' Hermione argued vaguely as she began massaging the taming potion into her hair.

'Of course you will deny it at this stage, otherwise it would feel like you've wasted all that time on a doomed relationship. The truth, however, remains to be believed. Surely you can see that you were never going to be fully satisfied with him?'

'I don't think it's possible to be fully satisfied with anyone. Nobody's perfect.'

'Yes, but you would have been less happy with him than with others,' the mirror pressed on, surprisingly determined to make its point. 'You articulated it rather well yourself with that list of yours. What was it? You don't respect my work or my hobbies, you spend far too much time caring about Quidditch, you blow everything out of proportion when I'm just being friendly to other people –'

'Yes, all right, that's enough,' Hermione cut in briskly, not liking how accurately the mirror was mimicking the shrill tone she had used to upbraid Ron. 'Fine. So we probably never would have been the happiest we could be if we'd stayed together, but that's been sorted now, hasn't it?'

'Let us hope so,' the mirror said, haughty again. 'I don't want to see any man who is unworthy crossing over the threshold to this home again. He will have to go through me first if he wants anything from you.'

Hermione merely rolled her eyes and continued to fix herself up again, both touched and exasperated by the mirror's protective personality. Glancing at the small clock on her dresser, she realised that she was running a little late and hurried herself along. She had never been one to buy into the idea of coming 'fashionably late', which she interpreted as being the name people gave to their laziness or their arrogance.

'You look splendid,' the mirror crowed approvingly.

'Do you really think so?' Hermione asked, genuinely uncertain even though she thought and hoped she looked nice.

'Absolutely. You will make heads turn, my dear, though you really ought to hurry up and go, or else you'll miss the entire thing.'

Hermione added the finishing touches to her dress and hair before snatching up a handsome black silk clutch that matched her shoes and clattering out into the living room. She ran over to the fireplace, only to remember a vial of potion that was vital to the evening and hurrying back into the bedroom to retrieve it from a secret box under the wardrobe. The mirror clucked and gave the impression that it would have shaken its head, had it had one.

Back in the living room, a quick wave of Hermione's wand had a small fire flaring up in the grate, the flames turning green when she threw in a handful of Floo powder. She called out her destination clearly before stepping in, feeling herself pulled forwards into a whirl of indistinguishable time and place.

What seemed several seconds later, she was gently shoved out of a fireplace in the Ministry's Atrium, which was filled with witches and wizards in vibrant dress chatting and laughing, a band playing a light waltz, and floating trays of canapés and champagne. In the middle of it all stood the Fountain of the Order, the fallen heroes watching over the lively gathering with bright, golden expressions. Even Snape looked marginally more cheerful than usual.

Hermione had barely straightened up and begun dusting herself of any ash when Ginny appeared at her side, looking radiant as usual in an elegant dress of green silk that perfectly outlined her slender frame. Her face, however, wore an expression that went against the pleasing image she made.

'Where have you been, Hermione?' she asked quickly and quietly with a scowl. 'Ron's starting to get drunk and it's embarrassing.'

'Well, that's hardly my concern now,' Hermione replied firmly and steadily, though she trembled a little under the hard façade. 'We broke up just under an hour ago.'

Ginny stared at her, her hand slipping slightly on her glass. 'You did? You mean you finally, finally did?'

Hermione frowned at her friend. 'Should you be sounding that happy, Ginny?'

'Oh, I'm not happy,' Ginny said, regaining her casual briskness. 'I'm bloody relieved! You finally had the guts to face the music and shut it down!'

'Um, yes, something like that.' Hermione accepted with a nod of thanks when Ginny passed her a fresh flute of champagne from a tray that floated by.

'What did Ron say when you dumped him?'

'Actually, I think it was more of a mutual decision …'

'Which is why he's trying to drown himself in champagne and humiliate my entire family with his dancing,' Ginny said, pursing her lips as she gazed over the crowd with a glaring look. Hermione followed her line of sight and found the few heads of distinct red hair gathered down one end of the vast hall, the above-average height of the Weasleys making them even easier to pick out.

'Bill's trying to get him to calm down, but the silly idiot won't listen,' Ginny explained scornfully before adding, 'You look gorgeous, by the way.'

Hermione murmured her thanks and agreed when the younger girl suggested that they join their usual group of friends who were currently standing in the shadow of the fountain. Harry waved at them and grinned as they threaded their way through the loose knots of witches and wizards talking animatedly with each other. He was standing with Neville, Luna and a tall, lanky young man with a mop of brown hair that flopped sideways over his forehead. The stranger was holding hands with Luna, who was wearing her famous radish earrings with a bright pink dress that clashed wildly with her companion's bold red robes.

The guilt and gloom Hermione had felt at ending her relationship with Ron was washed away by the warmth and charm of her friends as they welcomed her with hugs and laughs, dispelling all unease and grief with their affection. The young man holding hands with Luna introduced himself as Rolf Scamander, grandson of the great naturalist Newt Scamander. He and Luna were off to search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack in a week's time. Hermione simply smiled politely and nodded, having learnt to keep her opinions on chasing fictional creatures to herself.

After a bit of vacillation, she decided to let Ginny break the news about her and Ron and slipped away while Harry was dropping his jaw and Neville's eyes were becoming comparable in size to dishware. It was enough that she had lived through it once; she didn't fancy having to go through it all again as well as answer the dozens of questions her friends were bound to ask.

Her hand slipped into her clutch as she ambled through the people all celebrating the role the Order of the Phoenix had played in the war. The cool glass of the little vial inside grazed against her fingers and Hermione removed her hand, satisfied that everything except one thing was in place.

That one thing was surprisingly hard to locate, given its usual desire to be in the limelight, but its striking features made it a little easier to spot.

Lucius Malfoy stood alongside his son as Kingsley conversed with them, several solemn-looking wizards also joining in every now and then. Hermione recognised them to be members of the Wizengamot, and for a moment was worried that the Malfoys had been discovered for their recent jaunt down to the Mysteries, but decided that wasn't the case when she saw Kingsley smile and give Lucius a nod of approval.

'Well, it is good to have you here with us, Lucius,' the Minister was saying in his deep voice as Hermione reached them. 'I hope to see more of you in the future.'

Lucius inclined his head and smiled. 'Of course, Minister.'

Hermione waited a few seconds to let Kingsley and the Wizengamot wizards drift off, not wanting to make false explanations on how she knew the Malfoys well enough to engage them in polite conversation. Draco, however, had spotted her earlier, and after an appraising look up and down, waited for her impatiently.

'What a load of nonsense,' Lucius Malfoy muttered to his son as he gazed after the Minister. 'Shacklebolt knows perfectly well that I won't be around here for much longer, yet he has to rub in his generosity as though we didn't suffer from it enough.'

'Er, Father …'

Lucius turned his head around at Draco's slight nudge and his grey eyes passed over Hermione without a glimmer. Then they snapped back to her and stared. None of his pale, pointed features seemed to move, but Hermione felt them shift nevertheless and suddenly felt quite self-conscious, wondering whether she was showing too much skin.

'Ah, Miss Granger,' Lucius said after a short pause, his drawling voice sounding decidedly normal, although his expression continued to be unusually frozen. 'What a … delightful surprise.'

'Hello, Mr Malfoy. Draco.'

Draco nodded and shot a meaningful look at her. Hermione simply raised an eyebrow and directed her attention back to Lucius Malfoy, noticing that he held a glass of champagne in one ring-laden hand.

'I didn't expect to see you here.'

'I would've been rather insulted if you had,' Lucius replied with a slight sneer. 'The kind of people filling up this place is rather … different to my usual standards.' He glanced pointedly to the cleared space before the band, where Ron was busy showing off his sloppy, drunken dance moves. Hermione bit her lip and cringed.

'You must be ever so glad to know that you are marrying that.'

'Actually, Ron and I are just friends,' Hermione replied, hating how she felt embarrassed even admitting that, given his current behaviour. 'We broke up today, in fact.'

'Well, then, I do believe congratulations are in order,' Lucius said with a slight smirk before raising his glass to her and taking a small sip. He glanced sideways at his son, and Draco reluctantly raised his own glass and drank. 'You, Miss Granger, have managed to escape what would have been a most regrettable existence. After all, it is common knowledge that marriage is essentially the signing over of one's life to another party who will undoubtedly not know how to take care of it.'

'Wise words as always, Mr Malfoy. I'm surprised the Minister hasn't offered you a job as an advisor.'

Lucius didn't appear to mind her sarcasm, his self-satisfied smile remaining curled on his lips. 'On the contrary, such a position was offered to me and I would have accepted, were it not for the fact that it would have hindered my son's career.'

Draco looked surprised, and then faintly pleased. Next to him, Lucius coolly sipped at his champagne and pretended nothing genuinely sentimental could ever pass through his lips.

'As it is, I have taken a post with Gringotts Bank instead,' Lucius continued, idly eyeing the people milling about before him, 'and I shan't be in the country much longer, so you will no longer have to fear any further attempts at deception on my part, Miss Granger.'

'You're … leaving?'

He gave her an odd look. 'That is indeed what I said.'

'Where to?'

'Egypt.' His smile hardened. 'Cairo, to be precise. Gringotts has a branch there that has work for me.'

Hermione stared at him without realising it, being jolted back to her senses when he cleared his throat. She felt her hands become a little clammy as she fiddled with the clasp of her clutch, her nerves starting to fray the more she grew aware of it.

'In that case, Mr Malfoy, I, er, have something I need to talk to you about.'

One blond eyebrow arched high as Lucius looked at her. 'About what, might I enquire?'

'About the little thing in the Department of Mysteries a few weeks ago.'

'I have no idea what on earth you are speaking of,' Lucius replied smoothly, causing Hermione to look at him exasperatedly before gesturing to the younger Malfoy for his intervention.

'I think you should listen to what Granger's got to say, Father,' Draco said grudgingly. 'It's probably quite important.'

Lucius Malfoy appeared to mull it over in an offhanded manner, although Hermione imagined that he was paying it serious attention beneath his affected demeanour. And what is he like beneath his robes? she wondered before giving a cough and slamming down censors on her thoughts.

'I shall humour you just this once, Miss Granger,' the object of her curiosity drawled, making her blush slightly with the uncomfortable intensity of his pale-eyed gaze. 'Now, what is it that you wished to say?'

Hermione glanced around at the scores of people filling up the Atrium. 'We should find somewhere private first. I wouldn't be surprised if that Skeeter woman was here, listening in on our conversations.'

'Very well,' Lucius conceded haughtily as he gestured for her to lead. Draco watched them warily as they made their way towards the far end of the hall where the lifts stood, vacant. Hermione glanced back and made sure the elder Malfoy was following with a glass in his hand. She tipped her clutch and heard the faintest sound of liquid as the vial inside rolled about. Her confidence rose.

'I think my office will do,' she said stiffly as they walked into an empty lift, feeling relieved that hardly anyone seemed to be paying them any attention. She didn't want anyone thinking the wrong thing about her and Lucius Malfoy, as unbelievable as it would be.

The lift doors closed with a quiet clang and all the noise of the celebration was cut out. Hermione did her best to bear the awkwardness and held her head higher than she was used to, hoping to give the impression that she could and would defy both Mr Malfoy and the bad things he stood for. Lucius, for his part, appeared too sure of himself to be affected by her presence as he gazed at the lift doors through slightly lowered lids while his glass rested between his long fingers.

The same long fingers that had, in her mind, touched her so perfectly …

Warmth suddenly bloomed in her depths, and Hermione felt her cheeks begin to burn, her mind unable to keep out recollections of the fantasy she had had immediately after her adventure with the two Malfoys. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had seen her buy several more of the Daydream Charms in the effort to wash out the disturbing dream with others featuring different men, but she had never quite managed to think of someone new and titillating enough to replace the tall, pale blond.

Worried that the wizard sharing the lift with her would notice her discomfort, she turned her face away slightly to try and conceal how flushed she surely looked. Needing something to do, she quickly took a sip of her own champagne. Lucius didn't seem to notice that she was even there.

Six floors and what seemed an eternity of uncomfortable silence later, they arrived at the floor for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Hermione led the way reluctantly, concerned that he might take the opportunity to hex her in the back, and half-hoping he would, as it would give her a reason to renew her dislike for him.

It did come as a relief, however, when she found herself at the door to her office in one piece, and she withdrew her wand to undo the wards and other security enchantments that she had placed on the room. Having opened the door, she turned around to look at Lucius, feeling uneasy by the way his eyes had already been fixed on her.

'If you'd like to come in …'

His silence unnerved her far more than his words, and Hermione tried to remember that she was the one in charge, the one holding the power in their little situation. She watched closely as he sauntered into her territory, his seeming arrogance both irritating and oddly admirable in light of the fact that he really didn't have the upper hand.

'So, Miss Granger …' he drawled as he looked around in languid appraisal, 'what was it that you wished to talk about?'

Hermione swallowed and had to concentrate on hiding her unravelling nerves as she closed the door behind her. Ten seconds, and the man before her already looked like he owned the place as he stood in front of her desk, looking at her with his head tilted back slightly. She forced herself to walk towards him, and then past him as she went around to the other side of the desk and set her glass down on it.

'I have a few questions that I'd like to ask,' she said, meeting his gaze while she carefully opened her clutch under the table so that he couldn't see it. Her hand closed around the vial and slowly loosened the cork lid.

Lucius wore a proud look as he answered. 'I can't say that I shall answer truthfully or even at all, but I shall allow you to waste my time just this once. I suppose you have earned it.'

'I'd appreciate that,' Hermione said, forcing out a smile and hoping he hadn't heard the slight pop that the cork had made. 'Although I'd appreciate it even more if you tried to answer truthfully.' As casually as she could, she reached for her glass and brought it under the table to pour a few drops of the vial's contents into the remaining champagne. Lucius didn't notice, his attention having been drawn to the currently empty portrait on the far wall.

To her dismay, Hermione realised that he was still holding his glass and she tried to think of a believable excuse that would make him put it down, but no ideas seemed to come. Trusting herself to think of something sooner or later, she came back around the desk to stand nearer to him, though a good two feet of space remained between them.

'Did you speak to Skeeter at all before you sent me the letter threatening blackmail?'

'I had no reason to, seeing as I had nothing to actually offer her.'

'But you had false evidence,' Hermione pointed out. 'And surely the people at the Leering Lion would have seen me doing … well, drunken things. Skeeter wouldn't have needed much else to piece a story together. Merlin knows she would probably do it even without evidence of any kind.'

'You have history with the hag, do you?'

Hermione thought she might like the wizard a tiny bit better because he agreed on Rita Skeeter being a hag. She did notice that he hadn't answered her question, but it didn't surprise her. She doubted that he would ever speak the truth of his own volition. Instead, she focused on coming up with an idea to disarm him of his glass while continuing her pretence of interrogating him.

'I suppose we do have history. I'm the one who notified the Ministry of her being an illegal Animagus.'

Lucius looked mildly surprised. 'Ah, so it was you. Yes, I do remember the fuss made over that.'

'And I blackmailed her before I did it,' Hermione admitted somewhat sheepishly, not quite knowing why she was divulging such information to him. It was like handing a wand to a prisoner; it wasn't difficult to imagine that Lucius Malfoy would ruin her as soon as she presented him with the chance.

'Did you now? How very interesting …'

Hermione smiled weakly, when an idea flickered up in her mind. Using her wand which she was holding concealed behind her forearm, she concentrated on gradually increasing the temperature in the room. Lucius took another sip of champagne and frowned. His free hand came up to slightly loosen his sleek, silver cravat. Tendons grew taut for a moment as he stretched his neck in the effort to get more air under the collar of his rich, green robes.

When he glanced back down at her, Hermione had to work hard to wear a blank expression, and she was relieved when he looked away again towards the empty portrait where Tonks sometimes lounged. She felt her heart quicken and had to hold back her excitement as he set down his glass, which still had two fingers of bubbly left in it, on the desk behind them and adjusted his cuffs.

'I think I just saw Tonks in the portrait.'

As she expected, Lucius' gaze was immediately drawn back to the picture, and Hermione seized the opportunity to quickly switch their glasses.

'She must've realised it was you and not Draco, otherwise she might've stayed.'

'Are you implying that she is familiar with my son?' He picked up the glass that he assumed to be his.

'Yes, or that's how it seems, anyway,' Hermione replied, trying not to watch too closely as he leisurely raised the glass to his lips and drank. 'They almost seem to be friends.'

'That is ridiculous,' Lucius scoffed, licking his upper lip that was a little moist from the champagne. Hermione felt herself grow rather flushed. She stopped the Warming Charm and tucked her wand away in the hidden pocket of her dress.

'My son has no reason to take any notice of her,' Lucius continued, placing his glass back on the desk and casually taking off his heavy outer robes. 'Is this room always so warm?'

'Um, is it warm right now?'

Lucius glanced at her with an arched look. 'I expect you should know, Miss Granger, since you look rather flushed.'

'I must be too used to it,' Hermione said, a little too quickly. She hoped the wizard didn't notice. 'But getting back to the questions …'

'Ah, yes. Your precious questions.'

'Would you have ever hurt Draco in revenge for what he did to you?'

'Of course not. I wouldn't ever dream of harming him. He is my son, and I love him.' He frowned, appearing perplexed by his own blunt declaration.

'Well, that's comforting to know,' Hermione said, striving to be nonchalant as she watched him with a pounding heart. 'And would you have let me get hurt if it had meant getting to your prophecy more easily?'

'I can't imagine a situation where I would be that foolish. As I have already told you, the Minister –'

'– Would suspect you first. Yes, I can believe that.' She began to slowly pace, aware that Lucius' narrowed eyes were tracking her every movement. 'So you wouldn't have ever dared to really blackmail me?'

'Not under the current circumstances, no.'

'That's good. Do you still believe that pure-bloods are better than everyone else?'

'Yes.' A muscle jumped in his clenched jaw as outrage began clouding his eyes, and it was as though he was angry at his own lack of tact and self-control.

'So you must still hate me.'

'I cannot say.'

Hermione paused where she was at the other end of the room and stared at him. Lucius stared back, his mouth tight with rage, although it was impossible to tell who it was directed at. Knowing that he would catch onto her scheme very shortly, she concentrated on getting as much out of him while she could, making sure she kept her questioning as informal as she could. She guessed that the moment he felt it to be an interrogation would be the moment he understood what was going on.

'Do you see me as an equal?'

'Certainly not.'

'Then would you continue with your pure-blood campaign now if you had the chance?'

'I shouldn't think so. It is enough to know that I am of superior lineage; I can't imagine pursuing it in the way of the Dark Lord will yield good results, particularly now.'

'I guess that's better than wanting to keep up your role as a Death Eater,' Hermione conceded, though she wasn't particularly pleased. 'How did you know about the prophecy?'

'I was present at the time it was given.'

Hermione frowned. 'That means you must've been at Madame Pampalome's … What were you doing there?'

'I was having my palm read,' Lucius answered with the greatest reluctance, his speech more clipped than usual. Hermione gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.

'You – you went for a palm-reading?'

'Yes,' he said tersely.

Hermione simply stared at him and tried to get her head around the idea of someone as conceited and proud as Lucius Malfoy dabbling in the foggy subject of Divination. It didn't fit at all with the mental profile she had created of him over the years, and she was left feeling baffled at who exactly the man standing across the room from her was.

She noticed that his face looked thinner and coarser than ever before, and the smug, swaggering attitude had vanished as quickly as a shadow being melted away by the light. It seemed that he hadn't quite realised how honest he was being, the feeling being so unfamiliar to him, yet he also seemed to be … relieved at making such private confessions.

'Have you been to get your palm read before?' she asked when she finally had her mind in relative working order again.

'Indeed. I have been in the habit of seeking out her advice, and I dare say I'm her greatest client.'

'So you're the reason why she keeps coming back to Knockturn Alley,' Hermione said in understanding that quickly morphed into annoyance. 'Our department's wasted a lot of time trying to get her to take her business somewhere else. She's known to trade in Dark objects as well, and that's obviously illegal. We're always just wondering where she gets the items from. They're hardly common …'

Lucius Malfoy was fiddling with his cuffs, looking irritated by his own lack of control. Hermione glanced at his expression and then at his fidgeting hands, and realised that the little addition she had made to his drink was compelling him to not only speak the truth, but act it as well.

'Mr Malfoy, did you give Madame Pampalome objects with Dark magical properties?'

He looked like he was trying to say one thing, but it instead came out as: 'Yes.'

'So you've been at least partially involved in continuing the black market trade in the country.'

'One could say that, yes.'

'Perfect.'

Lucius blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'This is perfect,' Hermione repeated with a rising sense of triumph. 'Your answers have given me everything I need, Mr Malfoy.'

'Everything you need for what, exactly?'

'Everything I need to blackmail you,' she replied sweetly. 'Relying on Divination and dealing in Dark objects are hardly things you wish to be known for, is it? I'm sure the Minister and the Wizengamot would have something to say on the matter, not to mention that awful harpy Rita Skeeter …'

For a moment, the elder Malfoy looked surprised. Then, he was whirling around to pick up his glass of champagne and bring it to his nose to sniff it before raising it to the light and examining it.

'You gave me Veritaserum,' he said slowly, frowning as he eyed the champagne for a second longer before snapping his gaze to hers. 'You had the nerve to give me Veritaserum and expect to get away with it.'

'I thought you might need a bit of help answering my questions truthfully,' Hermione said more calmly than she felt. She slipped her hand into her hidden pocket and curled her fingers around her wand. 'I think it's actually done you a lot of good to get all that off your chest …'

'You wretched little witch!' he snarled, wand suddenly in hand and pointing at her. 'You give me this abominable insolence after I went to the trouble of ensuring that no harm came to you! I should have simply let Wood do the job and have you create a real scandal to be ruined by!'

'Mr Malfoy, please, I haven't finished yet, and you really need to hear this part.' Hermione had withdrawn her own wand and watched the wizard warily for signs of his icy anger getting out of control. 'I can promise you that I will never tell anyone of your dubious behaviour, if you will agree to two simple terms.'

Lucius glared at her, but now seemed more wary than enraged. 'And just what are these two conditions?'

'Firstly, you swear not to be involved in illegal activities again.' She fixed him with a pointed look. 'And secondly, you support Draco in his choice of bride and let them marry at your manor.'

'You are being ridiculous,' he said with a sneer. 'What reason could you possibly have for taking the side of my son on the subject of his future wife?'

'I think Draco deserves to be happy.'

Lucius continued to sneer, but it looked less malicious now. 'You know nothing about the matter.'

'I know enough to see that you will make your prophecy come true if you deny him this,' Hermione countered resolutely. 'You will lose him, and you might never get him back. He might overthrow you somehow because he resents you more than he loves you. You don't want that, do you?'

'No, I do not,' Lucius said, not seeming to mind how quickly that truth left his lips. 'I can't afford to lose him, but I know I shall if he marries that Greengrass girl. He loves her unlike anything I have ever seen.'

'Are you jealous of her?'

'Yes.'

'And you're afraid he'll desert you like you wife did?'

Lucius clenched his jaw and fought not to speak, but answered in the affirmative regardless of his efforts, and Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit sorry that she had put him in a situation that must be humiliating for him. It was a wonder that he hadn't tried to maim or even kill her yet. She was quite certain that he must hate the fact that she, of all people, was the one to witness his moment of weakness.

That he admitted to being abandoned made him both pathetic and human, and there was pity mingled with something else as she looked at him.

'If you love Draco as you say you do, then you won't lose him even when he marries Astoria. And he's definitely going to marry her, with or without your approval.' She paused to let her words sink in, noticing his preoccupied look. 'It's up to you.'

'Why do you even wish for his marriage or his happiness?' Lucius asked, suspicious.

'Because … well, seeing him fighting for the right to love and marry who he wanted made me aware of certain things, and I think I might just have saved myself from a lifetime of regret, thanks to him.'

'Ah, you must be referring to your engagement to that idiot boy of Arthur's.'

'Ron's not an idiot.'

'Of course he is,' Lucius Malfoy said impatiently. 'You would not be denying it if you had been the one to ingest the truth serum.'

'Well, maybe that's your opinion, but in any case, that's beside the point,' Hermione countered a little sharply. 'I want to know if you will agree to my terms. Otherwise, I've got no choice but to report you for what you've done.'

'I suppose relieving you of the memories concerning the matter is out of the question?'

'Absolutely.' She kept her wand trained on him, even when his was slightly lowered. 'I've broken so many rules for you, Mr Malfoy, and this will be the last time.'

'Surely one more time would not hurt?' He was smiling all of a sudden, and using the same, slithering charm that she had seen him use on countless others before her. Yet for all her disdain for his obvious schmoozing, Hermione had to admit that it was strangely effective and was making her waver in a way that had seemed unthinkable only moments before. It only added to her surprise to know that he could still function in his smooth ways whilst under the influence of Veritaserum.

'Consider it this way, Miss Granger,' Lucius continued, sheathing his wand and taking a few steps towards her. 'I have divulged to you things that I have never shared with anyone, not even my former wife.' He gave her a meaningful look. 'I have quite put myself at your mercy by answering your questions, so is it not only reasonable to ask that you to keep the knowledge gained entirely to yourself? After all, I have spoken them while placing my trust in you …'

'You've spoken them because I gave you Veritaserum,' Hermione snapped, annoyed that she was actually being charmed by his charlatan's act. She grew uneasy when his false smile gained a predatory edge and he closed the distance between them with a few easy steps.

'Precisely. Which means that everything that I have just said to you now is nothing but the truth.' He stopped when he was looming over her, the tip of her raised wand only inches away from his chest. 'It also means that you can believe me when I say that I have not shared with anyone the secrets you imparted on me whilst in an inebriated state.'

'What – what secrets? I don't have any secrets. You're bluffing.'

'Well, we shan't know that unless I share the details of that particular night with you, which I will if you withdraw your intentions to blackmail me.'

'You seem to forget that you don't have the power in this situation, Mr Malfoy. I've only to ask, and you'll answer truthfully.'

'Yes, that is quite right, but we should also address the fact that you imbued my drink with a serum which, if I'm not much mistaken, has strict regulations on how it is to be used. I highly doubt that personal revenge is a sufficient reason to convince the Wizengamot that your application of it was utterly lawful.'

'So you're going to take me to court over this?' Hermione asked with an arched look.

'Only if you insist on blackmailing me and interfering with mine and my son's affairs.' He tiled his head back slightly to gaze down his nose at her imperiously. 'The choice is yours.'

'This is such a mess,' Hermione muttered irritably, 'and you're impossible.'

'I prefer to think of it as being experienced,' Lucius countered in his customary drawl, telling her that he had reverted back to his supercilious charade. 'I have had some dealing with such matters of a … questionable nature and am aware of all the footfalls involved. You, on the other hand, Miss Granger, know nothing on the subject, and make a rather easy opponent to beat.'

'Maybe that's true, but at least I've got a clean record,' Hermione retorted, fighting off the overwhelming sense of power emanating from him, as well as her thoughts that were recalling her fantasy about him. She pushed her wand forward until it was touching his chest and prepared to blast him off his feet with a hex, when she caught the scent of his cologne and froze.

He smelt of cedar, mandarin and musk. It really was divine.

'What is it to be, then, Miss Granger?'

Hermione blinked and glanced up at him quickly, noticing that he was wearing a slightly stoical expression, the Veritaserum presumably making him show the seriousness that he was feeling inside.

'Will you swear upon silence, or should we go round in endless circles, never quite able to rest from the fear that one will use the other's secrets to expose them?'

'I don't see why I should be complying to your terms. Mine would benefit not only you and me, but Draco and Astoria as well. You do want him to be happy, don't you?'

'More than anything in the world,' Lucius replied curtly, his mood changing as suddenly as the weather. 'However, I don't believe he will find it in joining with Astoria Greengrass.'

'He loves her!' Hermione burst out. 'If he can't find happiness in marrying the woman he loves, then where is he supposed to find it?'

'In something rather more useful and consistent than love,' Lucius answered stiffly. 'A successful career, for instance, will give him a lifetime of contentment, whereas love offers happiness for only as long as it lasts, and it is a well-known fact that it is one of the things in life with the shortest expiration date.'

'You clearly haven't been in love,' Hermione said with an incredulous shake of her head, 'or you wouldn't be saying that.'

'Indeed, I have never known it, nor do I expect to. I have no time to indulge such fanciful appetites.'

'But you've got time to plot a complicated scheme of blackmailing me with non-existent evidence.'

'It was hardly complicated. A little more elaborate than usual, but nothing beyond the grasp of a wizard of my intelligence.'

Hermione bit back a groan of frustration and stepped past him to get some space, finding his arrogance and his willing ignorance to be smothering. It was beyond her comprehension how a man who obviously did love could deny himself so thoroughly. She didn't doubt for a moment that he had never been in love with anyone, and it made her sympathise with his former wife, as she couldn't imagine twenty plus years of loveless marriage as being particularly enjoyable. Perhaps they had been affectionate of each other, but Hermione knew only too well how that wasn't enough to satisfy a heart that wanted more.

She could now see what Draco had meant by saying that his father didn't tend to listen, but that fact now distressed her more than it infuriated her. It pained her to see someone in such a state of deliberate hard-heartedness and she wanted nothing more than to prove to Lucius that he was very much in the wrong about love and the source of happiness.

'Mr Malfoy, I don't think I should have to blackmail you into giving Draco the unrivalled happiness of love, but I certainly will if you continue to refuse him that blessing.'

'It truly does mean quite something to you, doesn't it?' Lucius mused as he eyed her with a frown. 'You really must feel rather indebted to him, to be fighting so stubbornly for his case.'

'I do,' Hermione said simply, and she meant it. 'He showed me what love is, and that's more than I can say for most people I know.

Lucius appeared to grow thoughtful, his grey eyes narrowing in calculation while he unwittingly tapped one forefinger against his side. His long hair, which fell loosely over his shoulders, gleamed in the light as he tilted his head slightly to one side, and Hermione was once again reminded of her dreams. She clenched her hands when she felt herself wanting to reach out and run her fingers through the sleek, pale strands and see if it felt as wonderful and erotic as it had been in her mind.

Her surveying of him only grew bolder and more thrilling when he didn't notice her attention as he remained too consumed by his thoughts which had to be weighing down his options. Hermione tried to hold back all the sordid speculations passing through her mind as she watched him, but found that they only grew wilder the more she tried to suppress them.

She was saved from further internal conflict by seeing Lucius prepare to give his answer, his cold, pale eyes alighting on her with what she assumed was the utmost disdain.

'It would seem that I have little choice but to accept your terms, Miss Granger.'

'That's probably the best decision you'll ever make, Mr Malfoy,' Hermione assured him confidently. 'If you could just swear it, then I'll leave you alone, hopefully for all eternity.'

'Well, then, I shall swear to you upon my father's life.'

Hermione looked at him questioningly. 'Isn't your father dead?'

'Ah, yes, well that would be the point.'

'Look, Mr Malfoy, why don't you just swear on Draco's life and be done with it? I mean, what're you so afraid of? It's only going to give you a wonderful daughter-in-law.'

'Yes, but how am I supposed to know that she will indeed be wonderful? She could be an absolute harridan, for all I know.'

'Just swear it. Please.

'Very well.' He made a show of taking a deep breath. 'I swear to you, upon my son's life, that I shall not involve myself in illegal activities, and that I shall support my son in his choice of bride and allow them to wed at Malfoy Manor.'

'Now, if you'd just said that in the beginning, then we wouldn't have wasted –' she glanced at the clock on the wall, '– half an hour in this room.'

'When a man is bargaining for his right to make life decisions, that is hardly a waste of time,' Lucius countered conceitedly while Hermione walked to her desk, rolling her eyes.

'Yes, but the problem is, Mr Malfoy, you were trying to make life decisions for other people, and that's really not good for anyone, least of all your grown-up son.'

'Draco still requires guidance.'

'Don't we all?' Hermione said with a sigh, opening the top drawer and reaching into it to close a hand around another small vial at the back. 'I know you just want to give him the best and protect him from mistakes that maybe you feel yourself to have made, but life's all about making your own mistakes and learning from them. It's the only way you'll really appreciate those lessons.'

'And I suppose dear little saints such as yourself no longer make these mistakes?'

Hermione gave a snort. 'I'm hardly a saint if I'm blackmailing people and spiking their drink with Veritaserum.'

'That is true.'

'But I have learnt a few very important lessons from all this,' Hermione admitted as she walked back towards him. 'The most vital being that love is the start and the end of all things.'

'And the other lessons?' Lucius asked, clearly finding the talk of love to be distasteful.

'Well, one would be not to blackmail you again, otherwise I'll never get rid of you, and another one is not to judge someone before you've seen them in the light of truth.'

'How very wise,' Lucius remarked with a slight sneer, presumably trying to make Hermione feel foolish, but she was too used to sticking up for her ideas to take any notice of his jeering. Instead, she held out the glass vial to him, the pale violet liquid inside swilling around slightly.

'Here, drink this. It's an antidote to the Veritaserum.'

Lucius cocked one eyebrow. 'How do I know that it isn't poison or something of the like?'

'Because if I wanted you dead, Mr Malfoy, I wouldn't have bothered trying to talk some sense into you beforehand,' Hermione said impatiently, offering the vial a little more pressingly. 'I just feel that since you had the goodness to be fairly discreet during this entire thing, then I should offer that, too.'

'You do realise that my discretion was exercised purely for the sake of my own interests?'

'Yes, but there's no need to say things like that. Let's just leave it at you having been a better man than usual, and I was a slightly worse woman.'

'That seems a fairly satisfactory conclusion,' Lucius drawled as he took the vial from her and uncorked it. 'I don't believe that you would be capable of deliberately poisoning me, in any case. You simply don't have that kind of instinct.'

'That's something to be proud of, in case you didn't realise,' Hermione told him with a slight lift of her chin. She watched with anticipation as he tiled his head back slightly to take a small gulp of the antidote, noticing the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. Her hand felt a little clammy as she took back the vial when he passed it to her.

'Well, that was a charming little conversation,' he drawled with all his familiar condescension as he picked up the outer robes that he had shed, 'but I do believe we have been here long enough.'

'Yes,' Hermione agreed, feeling oddly reluctant all of a sudden. 'Draco must be worrying for you.'

They spoke no more as they left the office, Lucius leading the way this time in his arrogant, indolent gait. Hermione marched along just behind him, trying to ignore the urge to stare at his back and guess what it looked like underneath his robes. She chased away the thoughts that suggested he might be quite lean yet muscled in an effortless way.

Her thoughts got no better as they rode down in the lift, but she managed to pretend that nothing other than facts and work-related matters were passing through her head when he chanced a sideways glance at her.

As the lift doors opened onto the Atrium, all the noise and music of the ball flooded into their ears, and Hermione felt it to be rather surreal, as though she had been gone from it all for a very long time. Beside her, Lucius Malfoy drew himself to his full height before stepping out, and Hermione let himself go on ahead to make it seem as though they had happened to be sharing the lift by coincidence.

A quick glance around the huge hall showed the party to be in full swing, and there was now a considerable number of witches and wizards on the dance floor, either dancing with each other or by themselves. Nearest the band was Ron, swinging his long arms and shaking his legs as though he had a beetle down his back. A bottle of Dragontail was being tipped about in one hand, and Hermione cringed at seeing both what it was doing to him and what it would make of him later.

'Granger?'

She jumped slightly, and then tried to hide it under a hasty smile as she turned around. 'Draco.'

'Father told me what happened.'

'Oh? What did he, er, say exactly?'

'That you gave a big speech on what it means to love, and he changed his mind because of it.'

Hermione looked at him in surprise, but didn't try to correct him.

'He said he would let me marry Astoria at the manor if I brought her to dinner next week, so I just came to say … er, thanks.'

'You're welcome,' Hermione replied automatically, her weak smile becoming brilliant as she realised that she had won. 'I hope it brings you every happiness.'

Draco merely nodded and lingered awkwardly for a moment before giving her a final nod and disappearing back into the crowd. Hermione watched him go, slightly wistful for the friendship that they would never have and elated that something good had come out of all the blackmailing and spiting.

'Perhaps you would like to join me in a toast, Miss Granger,' Lucius drawled as he, too, came up from behind, startling her. He offered her a glass of champagne, and in her slightly stunned state of mind, she took it. 'I think you have earned the right to raise a glass in honour of my son and my future daughter-in-law.'

Taken aback by the extent of his changed heart, Hermione dumbly raised her glass and lightly clinked it against his before following him in taking a sip. Lucius smiled, not all that unpleasantly, and seemed to be in far better spirits than she had ever known him to be.

'So I really may trust you not to share the secrets that I disclosed to you?'

'Definitely,' Hermione replied without hesitation. 'I can't think how bringing down someone else would ever benefit me.'

'That is most excellent.' His gaze left her to rove over the people before them, appearing to be drawn to one person who seemed to be attracting attention without even meaning to. 'Don't you think that your former fiancé is an idiot?'

Hermione followed his line of view and grimaced at seeing Ron trying to lure a pretty witch with his atrocious dancing. 'Yes, I guess he is.'

'I can't say how glad I am that you chose not to marry him. You would no doubt have been made to bear a reckless number of children as his wife, and the world has seen far too many Weasleys already.'

'Well, that was another reason that I broke up with him. The pressure to start a family's too much, and I want to concentrate on my career at the moment. It's a really exciting time to be in the Ministry right now.'

'So I told Draco, but we shall see if he has listened at all.'

Hermione took another gulp of champagne, enjoying the crisp, sparkling taste rolling across her tongue and the hint of light-headedness that came over her. She was about to take a larger sip, when she saw Ron's head turn her way and his clouded blue eyes locked with hers across the hall.

There was a pause; and then he was stumbling his way towards her, pushing past bewildered wizards and indignant witches. Hermione glanced around frantically, knowing that something ugly would very likely transpire from meeting a drunken Ron, and she found herself clutching at straws to get out of the situation before it had even begun.

'Mr Malfoy, I need you to dance with me.'

Surprise flitted across Lucius' face. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Dance. I want you do dance with me.'

He cleared his throat and fiddled with his cravat. 'I would rather not.'

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, he's almost here!' Hermione cried, snatching Lucius' glass out of his hand and placing it down on a nearby tray with hers. Then, before he could protest any further, she grabbed his hands and pulled him over to the edge of the dance floor, where she placed one of his reluctant hands on her waist, gripped the other, and started to waltz.

'What on earth are you doing, Miss Granger?' he demanded angrily even as he eased into the dance.

'I'm not giving Ron a chance to make a scene,' Hermione replied as she peered over his shoulder to see a red-faced Ron glaring at her. The insult of having his ex-fiancée whirling around the room in the arms of an old enemy seemed to be too much for him, and he turned sharply on his heel to push his way through the throngs of chatting witches and laughing wizards.

'I like your smell,' she heard herself say when her nose picked up the scent of Lucius' cologne. She felt his arms stiffen around her, but he didn't let go. 'It's very masculine.'

Lucius licked his lips and avoided her gaze. 'Yes, it is rather.'

'Are you disgusted at the idea of dancing with me?'

He continued to look past her. 'Hardly.'

'Good, Hermione sighed as she relaxed into the soaring steps and the hands holding her. It occurred to her that he could very well be lying, but it didn't seem to matter when he led her so elegantly and easily. She became aware of the feel of his robes under the hand resting on his shoulder, and she stroked the material slightly, relishing its luxurious texture.

Lucius cleared his throat again and turned his head to see where he was taking them across the floor. It gave Hermione a glimpse of his throat under his cravat, and she struggled to repress the desire to press her lips to it.

'Perhaps you would care to tell me, Miss Granger, what you know of the Ministry's relation with the Egyptian one.'

'I really don't know much about it, as it's not in my department,' Hermione replied as he carefully spun her around when the music called for it. 'I just know that the Egyptian Minister does his job well.'

'I see.'

He looked disappointed for a brief moment before the expression vanished under a smooth veneer of natural haughtiness. The look pricked Hermione's annoyance, but she honestly now believed it to be only a mask that he wore in public, having seen how drawn and serious he had been when speaking and acting the truth. It made her wonder what he was hiding under the gleam of arrogance currently on display.

'I'm glad you're letting Draco marry here.'

Lucius wrinkled his nose slightly. 'Well, it was either that, or have him seek his mother's support and possibly wed at her residence instead. And no Malfoy should marry anywhere but at his rightful home, and no woman seeking to become a Malfoy should be made into one elsewhere.'

'Is that really all you feel?'

'Should I be feeling more?'

Hermione laughed out of exasperation, breaking away from him and walking off the dance floor, aware that he was following her. 'I wanted a drink,' she explained when he caught up with her, and it was no longer so unexpected when he held a glass of champagne out to her within moments. She took a few gulps with a thankful look, noticing that Lucius merely glanced at her indifferently while one of his hands lingered on the small of her back where it had come to rest after they were buffeted to the side by a small band of raucous wizards heading for the dance floor.

'Did you really never love your wife?'

His hand was gone in an instant and his look replaced with one of wariness. 'I don't think that concerns you, Miss Granger.'

'Yes, I know, but you did say that you've never loved anyone after I'd given you Veritaserum.'

'And we agreed not to speak of private matters anymore,' Lucius reminded her coolly. 'I would very much like to keep it that way, otherwise I cannot guarantee that the secrets I keep for you shan't find their way into the paper one morning.'

'You've got no sense of decency,' Hermione remarked sullenly. 'You'd sell your own mother to get a promotion, wouldn't you?'

'Well, the answer to that shall remain unknown, for my mother is quite dead and buried.'

'I worry for her bones.'

'Ah, yes, but I did swear to you on my son's life that I would not get involved in unlawful dealings, and I rather fear that grave-robbing counts as such a thing.' He automatically relieved her of her glass when it was empty, placing it carelessly onto a passing tray.

'Thank you.'

Lucius merely inclined his head in acceptance and let his gaze roam beyond her, not bothering to try and charm her with his false smiles and flattery, which only served to make him more appealing in Hermione's eyes. She detested sycophants and people who went out of their way to torment other people, but it was clear to her that Lucius Malfoy wasn't quite as simple and definable as that. He did and said many things under all sorts of pretences, but she knew that his love for his son was the one thing that he could not pretend. She also knew that he genuinely believed that he was saving Draco from getting hurt in the future by clamping down on his love for Astoria while it was still blooming.

'I guess you're just trying to be a good father,' she said at length, drawing Lucius' attention back to her. 'I've got to give you credit for that.'

Lucius looked at her for a long moment, his face quite blank. The sheer lack of pretence threw Hermione off and made her feel a bit flustered; a fact which she tried to cover up by looking up at him defiantly, but meeting his gaze only made it worse. Those silvery pale eyes of his shifted like mercury, changing from their usual guarded coldness to something more like emptiness. It reminded her of how he had once looked all those years ago at the end of the war, and she felt her heart being tugged towards him.

'You are the first person to say such a thing,' he said, still drawling, though its pretentiousness was softened by his oddly unassuming demeanour.

Hermione attempted to smile carelessly, but it came out strained. 'I'm sure it's only because no one else has made you tell the truth quite like I have. I don't think many people get a chance to really know you, Mr Malfoy.'

'No, I expect not.'

She squirmed slightly under his unrelenting gaze. 'I'd better go and find my friends. They'll think I've been kidnapped, otherwise.'

'Of course.' He stepped back and gave her a cold smile, drawing on his façade again. 'Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Granger. You may also wish to take some of that antidote you keep in your office.'

Hermione looked up at him sharply. 'Did you spike my drink?'

His smirk seemed genuine. 'I was merely levelling the ground, so to speak. Playing fair, although I hardly asked you any questions, so perhaps we are still uneven.'

'You – you … How did you even get hold of the Veritaserum?'

'Really, Miss Granger, you sound as though you would never do such a thing yourself. Is it so unthinkable that I, too, might keep a bottle of it upon my person at certain times?'

Merlin, you really are a piece of work,' Hermione muttered irritably, suddenly understanding why she had spoken certain things that she might otherwise have never said. 'This is goodbye and good riddance.'

'I return from Cairo in four weeks,' Lucius said suddenly, his eyes catching Hermione's and holding them in an open gaze. 'It shall perhaps be the last time that I am in the country for quite some time.'

Hermione stared back at him for a moment before giving a jerky little nod. She watched, bemused, as he bowed his head stiffly in return and turned away to vanish into the crowd without a backward glance. The music continued to swell and fade with rhythmic sighs around her, but Hermione felt strangely disjointed from the entire setting, thinking that she felt regret, though for what, she wasn't sure.

Taking his suggestion one last time, she slowly made her way back to the lifts, wishing that she had an antidote for the confused swirl of feelings tumbling about inside.

The wedding of Draco Ulysses Malfoy-Black and Astoria Greengrass had been postponed for an extra week as his father fought to scratch off 'Black' from his son's full name. Narcissa Black had made a small fuss of standing up to her ex-husband, just because it seemed only proper to show a bit of fight, but the matter had eventually been smoothed out by the groom becoming solely Malfoy again

It was exactly a month after the Order Commemoration Ball that Hermione saw a large paragraph in the society pages of the Daily Prophet announcing the Malfoy wedding, and she couldn't help a big smile as she went about her day. Things were looking brighter and she was enjoying life as a single woman who had the freedom to do whatever she wanted to do and without having to tell anybody. She still had occasional nights of reaching across her bed and finding it horribly empty, but she was starting to get used to it.

Draco's marriage, to her, felt like the end of a chapter in her life that had seen a permanent breaking away from an old friend and love. She and Ron hadn't seen each other much since the ball, but it was part of a mutual decision to keep their distance while they both made themselves comfortable with a fresh start. Sometimes, she thought she missed him, but a little bit of contemplation always led to the conclusion that she missed the idea of him more than Ron himself.

Walking along Diagon Alley, she felt a spring in her step at knowing that she had a chance to begin all over again. There would be no more delusions and deceptions to bind her to commitments that she didn't want to keep; she would make sure that she gave her heart as much of a say as her mind, and be a little more impulsive to break the monotony of her steady routine.

Wearing an easy smile, she made her way up the street, a small bundle of freshly bought books tucked under one arm while in the other, she carried a paper bag stamped with the logo of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

She was in the middle of wondering how the Malfoy newlyweds were doing, when she noticed the striking contrast of white-blond against black out of the corner of her eye and stopped in her tracks. The impressive white marble face of Gringotts Bank rose up in front of her, but for once she had no interest in the handsome structure as her gaze landed on the wizard walking down the wide steps. He was reading a scroll that he held stretched out with hands encased in black leather gloves, his brow furrowing into a small frown.

Hermione swallowed thickly and considered marching off quickly, but it struck her as the act of a coward, and if she had learnt anything from the entire ordeal with the Malfoys, it was that running away from things never solved anything.

Mustering up her courage and confidence, she firmly called out, 'Mr Malfoy!' and watched as he raised his head to look directly at her.

She quivered slightly at meeting his silver-eyed gaze.

'Miss Granger … What a pleasant surprise.' He hardly quickened his pace as he sauntered down the last few steps to join her on the street. 'I did not expect to see you today.'

'Neither did I. I thought you were in Cairo.'

'I was, and I shall be again by this evening. I merely returned for the week to attend to a few business matters.'

'Oh?'

'Namely, I have just passed on the ownership of Puddlemere United to one Ludo Bagman, whom you know, I dare say. Several years abroad seems to have changed his financial luck quite substantially, and he is rather interested in buying out as many English teams as he can.'

'I suppose it must be impractical owning a team here when you live in Egypt.'

'Oh, it was not due to being impractical,' Lucius countered offhandedly. 'I merely did it because I have no reason to own an actual team, now that there is no chance of interesting my son in the management of it so as to keep him from marrying. I need not say how that particular strategy turned out.'

'But don't you want to own it just because you can?'

Lucius gave her an odd look. 'Certainly not. I don't have enough interest in the project to pursue it any further.'

'So you don't like Quidditch.'

'Hardly.'

Hermione's esteem of him rose, and she dared to hope that he had more redeeming qualities that would excuse the thoughts she had been having of him lately, which she had had to label 'unreasonable' for the time being. Ginny's constant reminders that all Malfoys were bad made her wary of saying anything about them out loud, but it was easy to forget her friend's stringent disapproval when she was facing a Malfoy, especially the one that she had secretly been wanting to see.

Glancing at him now, she noticed that the Egyptian sun hadn't seemed to have touched him, although there did seem to be something livelier and lighter about his expressions. Even when he sneered as he looked at the paper bag in her arm, it didn't seem half as insulting.

'Well, now, Miss Granger, what have we here?' His eyes lit up and a smirk twisted the corner of his mouth as he reached into the bag and pulled out a box of Patented Daydream Charms. 'Are we enjoying a guilty pleasure?'

'It's not for me,' Hermione said quickly, feeling her cheeks burning. 'It's for a friend.'

'Of course it is,' Lucius said dismissively as he looked over the packaging a little more carefully. 'I can't quite decide whether I would believe that more if you were married or single.'

'Mr Malfoy, please.' She glanced around them nervously at the other witches and wizards passing by with the occasional look in their direction. She let out a breath of relief when he finally handed it back to her, though it wasn't without a show.

'Well, we all have dreams,' he said with affected benevolence. 'After all, it is the best place to liaise with people who may very well not be half so pleasant in real life.'

Hermione looked up at him alarm, worried that he could read her mind.

'I imagine you are simply dying to meet Mr Wood again,' he drawled airily as he neatly rolled up the scroll he had been reading and placed it into an inner pocket of his robes. 'So I shan't keep you any longer. Good day, Miss Granger.'

'I don't dream about Oliver,' Hermione said, almost scornfully. She realised her mistake when Lucius turned back to her with a slightly predatory smile.

'Ah, then the Daydream Charms are indeed for yourself.'

'I – I never said that. I just said that I don't –'

'Yes, yes, I heard you the first time round, and I hardly care to hear it repeated.' He seemed a little irritated suddenly. 'Good day, Miss Granger.'

'But …'

'Was there something else you wished to say? I do have a rather hectic schedule today, and am due to meet my daughter-in-law for lunch shortly. It wouldn't do to keep the dear girl waiting.'

'So you do like her after all.'

Lucius struggled to keep his smug smile in place. 'I must admit, I was somewhat mistaken about her. She has proved to be a most perfect addition to my family. Excellent taste and character, if I might say so. There never was a better witch to be a wife for my son.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Hermione said, trying to feel delighted at hearing him sing the praises of another woman. 'Um, I don't know if you remember, but you told me at the ball that you'd be back in a month's time …'

His eyes narrowed slightly. 'Indeed, I do recall it.'

'Well, I just … I wanted to know why you said it. Why you told me.'

'I thought it might interest you to know that after this evening, I shall no longer be in the country, so you shan't have to worry about possible encounters that would see a revival of blackmailing, at least not from me.'

Hermione studied him closely, trying to discern what was passing through his mind beneath his polished, sneering front. Whatever it was, she was certain that it was not the casual insensitivity that seemed to roll too smoothly off of him, though were it not for the fact that she was starting to feel a little desperate, she would have let herself believe him and let him go.

As it was, she found herself fighting the urge to give up and run away, having become aware of what it was that she regretted.

'You know, you don't have to wait for me to give you Veritaserum to tell me the truth, Lucius,' she said in a lowered voice, searching for signs of his true mood. 'And if it makes it any easier, I'll tell you that I have thought about you. Quite a lot, actually.'

His habitual sneer remained in place, but it was clear his attention was elsewhere as he looked at her with incomprehension in his eyes. Hermione offered him a tentative smile, suddenly fearing that she was sorely mistaken and that he, in fact, had no feelings for her except those of contempt. The thought of that humiliation made her panic somewhat.

'I – I mean, you've given me quite a lot to think about, Mr Malfoy, and I just wanted to let you know that I, um, appreciate the fact that you've kept your word on all this and –'

'Why change back?'

Hermione blinked. 'Sorry?'

'You called me Lucius, but then went back to Mr Malfoy.' He looked at her expectantly. 'Why did you change back, Miss Granger?'

'Because I … I thought you might not like me being too familiar.'

'Perhaps we should take this somewhere a little more private.'

Hermione could only nod, feeling too embarrassed to flee without regaining at least some of her dignity. A quick flick of her wand saw her shopping shrink down until it was small enough to fit in one pocket. She was both glad and disappointed when he didn't offer her his arm, and accepted that he was merely being careful not to make them the subject of gossip as they strolled towards the archway that led down into Knockturn Alley. Even walking side by side was drawing some attention, and Hermione could hope that there would be less prying eyes wherever they were going.

She was too busy thinking and worrying to notice that he silently steered them with only the force of his presence to a tall, thin building halfway down the narrower road. Hermione stopped abruptly when he did, almost colliding into his side. At his slight gesture, she looked up at the grimy front of a pub. The sign hanging above the door bore a faded image and the words, The Leering Lion.

'For old times' sake,' Lucius drawled with a ghost of a smirk at seeing her hesitate. 'After all, you do owe me several drinks, I should think.'

Hermione suppressed her nervousness and gave a curt nod, unable to explain how her desire to not enter the pub wasn't only because of the drunken night weeks ago. Watching him go in with head held high, she forced herself to believe that it was the perfect chance to test her courage and maybe even win back some pride. With a ball of trepidation lodged in her chest, she passed over the threshold into the pub.

Inside, it looked like any other establishment of similar trade and reputation, the wooden floor weathered with age and the sturdy, simple furniture matching the dull, dark, panelled walls. Hermione thought she vaguely remembered the room, but it was still lost in a hazy memory. Looking towards the bar, she saw Lucius speaking in furtive tones to a large, sullen barman with a shiny, bald head and a slightly lazy eye. She imagined that he was even grumpier than normal at having to speak to a wizard with a head full of hair, and dazzling hair at that.

She was starting to wonder what kind of transaction the two men were making, when Lucius gave a final nod to the barkeeper and turned around to beckon her with a gloved finger.

'Come along, Miss Granger,' he said in a patronising tone as she walked cautiously towards him. 'We have been given a room for further privacy.'

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she followed his lead up the rickety wooden stairs, feeling anxious by the wholly unexpected turn her day was taking and not daring to believe that it was what she wanted. The musty smell rising from the dark carpet softening their footsteps only made her more uneasy as she began to remember a bit more. Or perhaps she was just dreaming it, but that didn't make things much better.

Finally, Lucius stopped outside a door at the end of the first floor corridor, using a heavy key to unlock it, which struck Hermione as being strange. She didn't know of many places in the magical world that bothered to use actual keys since there were Locking and Unlocking Charms.

'Ladies first,' he said as he held the door open for her, his smile looking a little forced. Hermione hovered just outside, glancing first up at him, and then at the room before deciding that she would only know the outcome of their meeting if she stayed for it.

The first glance around the small bedchamber made her tense up immediately as she realised that it was the same room that she had seen in every daydream since the fantasy with Oliver. Feeling a little alarmed all of a sudden, she turned back to look at the exit, only to see Lucius closing the door and locking it behind him with the key. He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. Then, he came towards her with almost silent steps.

Hermione tried taking a few steps back, but had taken no more than two when she bumped into the foot of the large double bed. Lucius stopped when he was standing with only a foot of distance between them, and Hermione saw the slight shadows resting beneath his eyes.

'Now then,' he began in a quieter drawl, 'you were telling me something, Miss Granger.'

'I was?'

'Indeed. Something that might allow me to say a few words of my own.'

Hermione stared up at him helplessly. 'I … I've dreamt about you. I dream about you every time. I've tried thinking of a hundred different things and seeing a dozen different faces, but … I always get you.'

She blushed and avoided looking into his eyes, finding them too intense to meet in her embarrassed state. When the seconds passed in silence, she became more and more convinced that she was only heading towards disaster. It made her wish for the ground to open and swallow her up, and maybe Lucius, too, just for good measure.

'It was in this very room that I saw Madame Pampalome for the first time,' Lucius said in an unusually reserved tone, drawing Hermione's wide eyes to him. 'I have never believed in the powers of Divination, but it had reached a point in my life when it really didn't seem so absurd to want a little guidance from something superior to the human mind.'

Hermione watched, captivated, as he slowly raised a hand to lightly brush the back of a finger against her wrist and slide his way up her arm.

'I was rather tired of making mistakes which earned me my wife's indifference and my son's resentment.' He paused when his finger reached the crook of her elbow. 'I thought that perhaps Divination, of all things, would clear my foresight with a little knowledge of the future, and I had heard that Madame Pampalome was no fraud. I needed very little convincing at the time to seek her out.

'Suffice to say, I was left rather disappointed upon more than one occasion, but the possibility that she might truly know of something that would turn my luck around served to entice me again and again. It is hardly a surprise that she needed no other clients when she had me paying fifty Galleons a time to hear her speak.'

'You paid fifty Galleons?' Hermione couldn't help exclaiming in a voice that had been reduced to a whisper through nerves.

A small smile of bitterness rose to Lucius' lips. 'That is hardly the troubling part to my story, Miss Granger. After all, I have realised over the years what a terrible mistress money has been to me, and I have not regretted the times when I have attempted to rid myself of her.' He gently rubbed circles into her upper arm with a thumb. 'She has always called for me to dedicate myself to her cause only, and I allowed myself to get so infatuated that I almost lost my family entirely.'

Hermione felt her breath catch when his other hand came to smooth its way across her hip and up to cradle her waist.

'By the time I realised my error in prioritising, it was too late to save my marriage, but I thought that perhaps I could at least salvage what little love my son still had for me.' He stepped closer until the front of their robes brushed against each other. 'I made various attempts to prove to him that I had changed, and that I would change yet more if he wished it, but he would not believe me. Perhaps he could not after all that I had let him go through.'

'But you were in Azkaban; there was nothing you could do,' Hermione pointed out, no longer even trying to stop herself from feeling the strange feelings that the wizard aroused in her. 'And even if you had been with your family, it would've been impossible to stave off Voldemort without risking death.'

'Ah, but I would have risked that,' Lucius said, his voice dropping lower as he pressed himself slightly against her and leaned his head down so that his lips hovered close to her ear. 'I would have risked everything to keep them safe.'

'I know,' Hermione said softly, reaching up to touch his hair, hesitantly at first, and then sliding her fingers into the silky, loose strands. She thought she heard a noise catch slightly in the back of his throat, and she brought her other hand to curve around the back of his neck. The hand on her arm tightened for a moment before gliding up to bury itself in her mass of curls.

'You made Draco believe me,' he murmured, his breath warm in her ear. 'I cannot say I understand how it happened, but my son returned to me and I believe it was … because of you.'

'He was never going to desert you,' Hermione assured him, closing her eyes to draw in his scent. 'He always knew you loved him. I just helped him see it a bit better.'

'I think perhaps you have done the same for me.' His arm snaked around her back to hold her closer to him, and she let herself relax into the embrace fully. A slight sigh escaped her lips when she finally felt his lips against her skin as they brushed against her jaw and pressed kisses and half-kisses up to the corner of her mouth.

It felt a thousand times better than a dream, and Hermione knew that she could not listen to her rational mind and leave as it advised her to. She knew that she would regret it forever if she did.

Instead, she stayed and clung to the man against her, who was so real and so alive, and parted her lips for him when she felt his tongue trace lightly across the seams of her mouth. It was all too easy to forget everything when he lightly dragged his lips against hers and tugged at her lower lip, and the first thing to desert her mind was her own name.

The hand that had been burrowing in her hair and cupping the back of her head now reached down and touched her thigh before taking hold of it and pulling it up to hook around his hip. Hermione felt his erection press against her and she choked back a whimper, moulding into him when his other arm slipped down her back to take her by the arse and lift her up onto the bed. She held onto the front of his robes and used her grip to pull him after her, raising herself up on an elbow to meet his mouth as he slowly leaned over her.

She broke away when her mind sparked one last thought.

'What about your lunch with Astoria?'

'I have a lifetime of opportunities to lunch with her,' Lucius said, looking a little annoyed by the interruption. 'The barman knows to deliver a message telling her that I am very much unavailable.'

'So you knew you were … what, going to seduce me?'

'I knew,' he began through a clenched jaw, 'that I would be in no mood to be exchanging small talk with my daughter-in-law after I had seen you, regardless of what would actually transpire from our discussion.'

Hermione licked her lips and nodded. She raised a hand to his face and stroked his jaw, feeling it steadily loosen under her touch. Lucius let her be tender for a moment before he leaned over her again to kiss her, this time a little more forcefully, his knees nudging her legs apart. Hermione complied, all the while licking back at the tongue keenly exploring her mouth and pulling at his robes in the hopes that they would somehow fall off.

She felt him shudder slightly when her hand managed to slip in past his shirt and touch his bare chest, her fingers stretching out until they came across a heartbeat almost as rapid as her own. A slight groan sounded in the back of Lucius' throat and he reluctantly pulled away, straightening up as he kneeled before her and swiftly disrobing himself. Hermione watched, enthralled at seeing the heavy layers of black peeling back over his shoulders until he was at last down to his shirt. The buttons didn't seem to come undone fast enough.

He was indeed lean and lightly muscled, his angular build so different from the lanky, boyish frame of her former fiancé. She couldn't resist reaching out to touch him as his shirt fell open and his smooth, pale skin was revealed to her, and she revelled in the way he drew in a sharp breath as she ghosted her fingers over his abdomen. Her hand dipped lower, cupping him through his trousers, and she felt a thrill at feeling his hips jerk against her.

Thirsting to see more, she used both hands to undo the front of his trousers and push it down past his narrow hips before reaching in to draw out his hardening cock. The sight of it triggered an unexplainable rush of feeling that Hermione couldn't account for, and overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation of passion, she let it whisk her out of her usual proper, prudish cast. It emboldened her, and she felt strangely delighted by her newfound sureness as she stroked a thumb over the flushed head of Lucius' straining member, feeling immensely pleased at hearing a barely suppressed moan from above.

Lucius moved with less elegance as he removed his shirt completely and dropped it behind him to add to the pile of robes on the floor. Hermione continued to stroke him and drag her hand up and down over his erection, feeling its width and the silkiness of the skin, which only fuelled her desire to feel him inside her.

'Lie back,' he commanded in a terse murmur as he took her hands in his and placed them over her head while she consented and lay back. Then, slipping one arm under her neck and cradling her to him, he used his free hand to push up her robes until she felt the cool air of the room breathe across her hips. She rose up slightly to let him pull down her plain cotton knickers and saw him throw it behind him without a second thought. A gasp left her when he touched her below, his fingers coating themselves in her arousal before slowly sliding into her.

Hermione arched up with a sharp breath and thrust her hips against him, wanting more. She had all but forgotten the Lucius in her fantasies as the Lucius in reality slowly delved into her, his lips at her neck as she threw her head back and stared wildly at the ceiling.

Finding her hands grasping thin air, Hermione brought them back down to knead her breasts through her robes, feeling her nipples harden in spite of the layer of material. Lucius growled against her skin and he pumped his hand a little faster inside her, still holding her to him, as though any space between them would diminish the rising heights of their pleasure.

The quickening pace of his hand made her buck against him and she grew desperate to have more, to have release. She tried twisting her hips and grinding herself against his palm to fill the missing gaps, but it never felt enough, and she told him so with a slight whimper.

Realising that she was getting closer to losing herself, Lucius suddenly pulled out his fingers, making Hermione lament the loss before she was arching back again as he thrust his cock in halfway before slowly pushing himself in the rest of the way. His nose pressed up against the underside of her jaw and she felt his tongue flick across her throat, corresponding with the finger that grazed her clit and sent her jerking up against him.

He took one of her legs and pulled it over his hip as he began to push in and pull out in a steady rhythm, his cock gliding against her nerve-lined walls so that she clenched around him at every slow thrust. Hermione hooked her other leg around him and shifted so that he could go deeper, and Lucius moaned his appreciation into her neck.

His hand came to cover hers at it fondled a breast, stretching out over her smaller hand to squeeze in time to the rhythm down below. Hermione felt herself tremble and creep closer to the very edge, wanting nothing more than to go catapulting off into the limitless skies. She pressed herself as close to him as she could while he fucked her, relishing every moment of being held in his arms. When his lips came up to press against hers, she answered hungrily and sucked at his tongue as it slipped inside her mouth.

A slight shift in angle made him rub against a spot that had her crying out, the sound muffled by his mouth on hers. Lucius moved a little faster, the rhythm of his hips becoming increasingly erratic as he drew nearer to his climax. He positioned himself to try and stroke the perfect point of pleasure inside her with each plunge, and Hermione felt herself tighten and tense until it was becoming unbearable …

The moment he pulled his head away, she was thrown off a cliff and soaring into indescribable heights, the force of her ecstasy driving out a cry from deep within her that echoed around the small room. Lucius didn't hold out any longer with her clenching and writhing beneath him, and he came with a violent judder of his hips and a long groan that got lost in her tangled hair as he pressed his face into the wild mass. Heaving with exhaustion, they let the waves of their pleasure wash over them, Hermione clinging to Lucius' broad back as he lay collapsed on top of her.

Eventually, he drew in a deep breath and pulled out completely, taking his time to sit up before he pulled up his trousers again and fastened them. Hermione watched him languidly, too drained of energy to make any effort to be modest. Her eyes followed him as he turned his back on her and rose off the bed. He stooped slightly to pick up all of his discarded clothes and drew them back on with careful, concise movements.

'This won't be happening again, will it?' she asked without any real emotion, addressing his shirt-covered back. Lucius didn't turn around, but continued to dress.

'That would be for the best. I think we have created enough history between us to last a lifetime.'

When he did finally turn to look at her, he was wearing his haughty face, but Hermione wasn't entirely convinced by it.

'We both have futures, and I highly doubt that they are destined to join together at any point.'

'So that's it?'

Lucius' lips thinned. 'Let us not get carried away, Miss Granger. You are still rather young; you may wish to marry at some point and start a family of your own. I have my son and his wife to think about. These are responsibilities that we cannot ignore simply because … well, because we can enjoy a bed together.'

Hermione tried not to feel disappointed as she watched him turn his attention back to his robes. She felt strangely cheated out of something. An ending. Closure. It was as though the fantasy of Lucius that she had steadily cultivated in the past few weeks wasn't designed to satisfy with only the fulfilment of her release. She must have wanted more, and she did want more, though how and why, she couldn't say.

By now, the wizard in the room was fully dressed and looking immaculate once more, and Hermione felt like she really had just dreamt their moment together.

Lucius cleared his throat and seemed slightly uncomfortable beneath his arrogant veneer as he turned to look at her, and Hermione was prompted to quickly pull down her robes to cover herself as his pale eyes glanced over her.

'My post in Cairo is too good to decline,' he said unexpectedly, his gaze meeting hers with seeming reluctance. 'I trust you understand the place a good career holds on the list of one's priorities.'

Hermione nodded, still reclining back against the lumpy pillows on the bed.

Lucius tilted his head back slightly to gaze down at her. 'Well, then. I suppose this is goodbye, Miss Granger, and good riddance.'

She couldn't help a slight smile at how he used her own words, and was glad that it masked the hiss of despair shooting through her. She didn't want him to know how much of an effect he was having on her, though at the same time, she desperately wished he would see through her act and call her out on it.

Lucius lingered for a moment to glance about the room before abruptly turning and opening the door to leave. A feeling of panic seized Hermione. She realised that everything would be lost as soon as he stepped past the threshold, and knowing that she couldn't let that happen, she jumped up from the bed as though she had been hit by an electric current and ran over to him.

'Lucius, wait!' she cried out before she was standing behind him and burying her face in his back. The scent of his cologne filled her senses again.

'You – you can't leave now. Not like this. We've … we've been through too much for things to go back to how they were.'

He felt tense beneath her hands as she held onto his shoulders, and though she was afraid to, Hermione slowly let go of him and stepped back in the hopes of having him turn to her. Her fears seemed to be realised as Lucius remained with his back to her, but then he turned and took a step towards her so that he could close the door behind him. It was probably only because he didn't want to be overheard and not because he wanted to stay, but Hermione felt relieved all the same.

'What exactly do you want from me?' he asked, the shadow of a frown beginning to settle on his brow.

'I … I don't know,' Hermione answered, hating how childish she sounded in her uncertainty.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. 'You don't know?'

Hermione swallowed thickly and shook her head.

'Well, neither do I, Miss Granger, and you should know that I despise not knowing.'

'I want you …?' she tried again, feeling her courage falter at seeing his expression darken. 'I mean, I want …'

Without warning, Lucius seized her by the arms and pulled her sharply to him, his hands moving to grasp her tightly about the waist as his mouth descended on her in a hot, urgent kiss.

Too bewildered to resist, Hermione found herself letting him in and sinking into his tight embrace as his tongue smothered hers with passion. She couldn't quite understand how any of it was happening, but she knew that this was what had been missing in her life – this hungry, desperate desire that set fire to all of her senses and made her feel more alive than anything she had known. That it was Lucius Malfoy who was infusing her with such feeling and such life was both shocking and exciting beyond her wildest imaginings. The colossal differences between them and the impossibility of a relationship with each other seemed utterly irrelevant when he was clutching her so fiercely to him and pressing his hips against her, his erection hard and thick against her belly.

Hermione gasped as he suddenly broke away, his lucid eyes clouded and his breaths coming quickly.

'I am not convinced that this is a good idea,' he said, looking a little dishevelled, his hands still gripping her at the waist. 'After all, what on earth are we expecting to get out of this? Other than some pleasure, of course.'

'I don't know and I don't care,' Hermione said, equally short of breath and feeling oddly thrilled at being so reckless for once in her life. 'Does it even matter?'

Lucius made a low noise of frustration that got lost in the tumbles of her hair before he pulled away sharply and let go of her to step away.

'This is not what is supposed to happen,' he snarled in vexation as he began pacing before her, reminding her of Draco as he ran a hand through his long, loose hair.

'I am divorced,' he said a little vehemently as he abruptly halted and spun around to look at Hermione. 'I have an adult son and I cannot say I have a particular liking for your precious Ministry or the circle in which you involve yourself.'

Hermione bit her lip and watched him, not quite sure what she should or could say.

'And you are a Muggle-born,' Lucius continued more quietly as he turned away from her and resumed his pacing. 'I cannot forget that.'

Hermione watched him as he brooded for a moment, and then instinctively drew in a sharp breath of apprehension when he suddenly whirled around to glare at her, his pale eyes narrowed in hardened scrutiny.

'I cannot understand for the life of me why on earth I should possibly want you,' he said in a voice shot through with resentment, stinging Hermione deeper than she wanted to admit. 'It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.'

'Does it – does it always have to make sense?' Hermione found herself asking him, a little tentatively.

'Yes,' was the flat reply. 'How else am I to live a life that is truly the product of my own decisions and determination?'

Hermione hesitated and then frowned. 'You know, I don't find it easy either. You're not exactly the kind of person I imagined I'd end up liking.'

Lucius glanced at her contemptuously, as though he thought it offensive that she wouldn't naturally find him attractive while at the same time finding that same idea repulsive. It was, Hermione thought, yet another sign that confirmed what a paradoxical existence the elder Malfoy had created for himself.

'They say that with feelings, its sense is that it doesn't make sense,' Hermione found herself saying, remembering Ginny's advice, although she definitely wasn't going to repeat the bizarre analogy involving flobberworms and hippogriffs to Lucius. 'I'm still not sure I like you, Lucius, but I'm willing to try. And I guess you must've wanted to as well, if you came back for me.'

He made an ostentatious noise of disparagement. 'I did not come back for you.'

Hermione inwardly flinched, but was firm in the determination that had gathered inside her.

'Believe that if you want,' she told him, acting bolder than she felt. 'But we both know it's not true. I've seen what you're really like, Lucius Malfoy.'

Warily, he raised his eyes to look at her, his gaze suspicious. The mistrust and accusation expressed on his features returned them to a state of conflict and possible enmity that actually felt more comfortable to Hermione than any tenderness or trust, and she felt suddenly enflamed with audacity as she viewed him as an opponent.

'I know you can love and that you do have a conscience,' she told him fearlessly, looking him directly in the eye. 'And I'll always believe that about you, even if no one else does.'

He stared at her, his expression so streaked with different feelings that it was practically unfathomable. But the uncertainty that sprung up in Hermione at the sight of it disappeared under the weight of her newfound confidence that wrapped itself around her like a protective cloak.

'And if you can't accept the fact that you want me, then maybe I can threaten you into wanting me and staying a bit longer.'

Immediately, Lucius' eyes tightened with anger, suggesting that he didn't like being threatened, even in such innocuous circumstances.

'And just what exactly do you propose to threaten me with?' he sneered, quite suddenly magnificent and detestable. Just as he should have been.

Hermione smiled, feeling unusually mischievous as she slowly backed away until her legs bumped into the bed. She was even more pleased to see Lucius following her, seemingly without even meaning to.

'I will blackmail you into taking a chance on me,' she said as she sat down, amused and then aroused to have Lucius come and stand directly before her, his crotch at her eye-level.

'You cannot be serious,' he drawled with a show of cynicism that didn't waver even when Hermione reached up to place her hands on his hips.

'Oh, I'm deadly serious,' Hermione assured him as she slid her hands around to his arse and experimentally squeezed his muscled buttocks. There was a choked sound from above, and she smiled as she gently pressed her face against the front of his trousers. 'I'll tell the Minister that you traded Dark objects if you don't stay here and finish what you started.'

'You are being … utterly unreasonable, Miss Granger.'

'I'm actually being very reasonable,' Hermione said matter-of-factly as she leaned back to look up at him. 'I've given you a very clear choice of either facing the Minister and the Wizengamot over the possession and trading of illegal items, or staying here with me for the rest of the afternoon and seeing what happens from there. Nothing more, nothing less.'

Seeing him hesitate, she gave his backside another squeeze and was this time rewarded with a slight thrust of his hips.

'This changes nothing,' Lucius said, his voice sounding ever so slightly hoarse as he tilted his head back. 'I shall leave for Cairo this evening and it may be a very long time before I return again.'

Hermione paused to consider his words, her fingers now resting on the buckle of his belt. 'I suppose I can live with that. It's not like I was hoping for a marriage proposal or anything.'

'In that case …' Lucius drawled before suddenly dropping down to haul her legs over his shoulders and brush against her. 'I suppose I shall simply have to stay for the rest of the day, seeing as I really have no wish to go before the Wizengamot again.'

Hermione whimpered despite herself and threw her head back. 'Merlin, life's just full of hard decisions.'

'Indeed it is,' Lucius murmured as he deftly undid the front of his trousers and positioned himself closer. 'And now, Miss Granger, I believe I must teach you not to play such dangerous games with me. There is nothing to say that I won't actually blackmail you if you cross me.'

She smiled up at him, feeling flushed and ready. 'I'd like to see you try.'

Lucius eyed her with a faint smirk before he plunged into her with one powerful thrust, forcing out a cry from her parted lips.

It was heaven and it was only for an afternoon, but Egypt wasn't so far away and Lucius Malfoy didn't have such a clean record that Hermione would fail to find more things to blackmail him with. It would be the only sure-fire way to continue fulfilling her fantasies and allow him to want her and have her without feeling any worse for it.

Lucius leaned over her to kiss her, and she sighed against his tongue.

It was twisted and it was totally senseless, but Hermione thought it was possibly the most genuine thing she had ever experienced.

Their story, she realised, was only just beginning.

~ The End ~