I own nothing you recognize.
This is a lemon-y muggle AU.
Warnings: Like the song, this contains adultery and death
"Hello? Who is this?"
"Narcissa. I believe you know my husband Lucius."
"The only Lucius I know is my fiance."
"That's rich. The blonde sod has proposed."
"I'm sorry but who are you?"
"I told you, I'm the wife of the man you text at all hours of the day. And I'm sure you're the one he's been shagging at night too."
"No. he wouldn't."
"He did sweetie. He did."
"I... No... He... He said he loves me!"
"I'm sure he did say that. A man will say anything to get a girl's attention."
"I'm so sorry. I. I. He said he loved me. I don't believe you. I have to go."
Hermione had been thinking all afternoon about the conversation. Lucius wasn't exactly a common name but surely, he wasn't the only Lucius in London. She was also certain there would be another blonde Lucius. He was over far too often for him to be married. He would come over a little past dinner and stay until it was time to leave for work, he'd always head in right before nine and be back before seven. There was absolutely no way it was the same Lucius
Lucius walked into his lover's flat, she seemed to be in a bad mood. She didn't greet him with a kiss like normal.
"Sweet, what is bothering you?"
"Nothing."
"I know when nothing is bothering you, and this is certainly not nothing wrong."
"Nothing you need to worry about."
"Okay, if you're sure" He leaned in and kissed her. She let him lead her back into the bedroom. Maybe Narcissa had the wrong idea. Maybe she had the wrong number.
Lucius was kissing down her throat, telling her how he'd make her forget whatever was bothering her. He backed her against a wall and gently started kiss along her jaw, slipping his hand along her side. He lets his thumb gently caress the underside of her breast and she knows Narcissa is wrong. He slides his other hand under her skirt and drops to his knees. As he slowly drags her knickers down her thighs, all thoughts of the strange conversation on the phone flew out her mind. All that was left was his tongue sliding along her slit. He gently lifted her leg on to his shoulder. He slipped two fingers into her as he traced the alphabet on her clit. It was his favorite little trick, and she was pretty sure it was hers too. A few minutes and a small orgasm later he guided her on to the bed.
He liked this, when she was looking up at him, disheveled but with a small smile on her face. Right before she starts to reach out to him, she always lets the left side of her mouth twitch, like she knows she's about the get her way. Youthful nature at its finest, before life tears a girl to pieces and makes her into a weary woman like Narcissa. He slid off his slacks and climbed to rest over her, he settled between her legs and began kissing her and rocking his hips against her. Her hands gently slid under his shirt and pulled it over his head. He was older, but he was beautiful, and in this moment she was sure he was all hers. He was slowly sliding his hand along her thighs, up and down, constantly rubbing as he rocked against her. She reached between them and guided him in.
"I really think you have the wrong number. You should stop calling."
"You wear Alexander McQueen."
"I. Yes. How do you know?"
"He came home smelling of it. Where did he tell you he was going?"
"Work. Like he does every morning."
"No sweetie. He doesn't work. Doesn't have to."
"You're wrong. My Lucius wouldn't do that"
"Oh, you are so precious. He came home smelling of you and climbed into my bed. Didn't even bother to wipe his dick off."
"There's no need to be vulgar."
"Yes, there is. Gentle doesn't work with you."
"I don't know why you're doing this."
"We deserve better."
"I love him."
"I know you do. The scratches and love bites prove it."
There was silence as Narcissa waited for it to sink in.
"He... He can't be."
"It's hard to accept, I know. He is a wonderful liar, but he has his ticks."
Another silence.
"What are they?"
"He changes the topics."
"With sex"
"Now you're getting it darling."
"Narcissa?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"I know. But now you do."
"Yeah. I do."
He came over again, but this time she didn't let him guide her into the room.
She didn't let him use his lips to make her forget.
He was indeed a terrible liar.
She wasn't.
Either that or he didn't even care enough to notice.
She wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.
"Hello. What do you need today?"
"I need you to focus."
"Focus?"
"Yes. We need to figure out how we are going to deal with the lying prat."
"Oh. Okay."
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
Over the next month and a half, Lucius slowly went downhill. At first, it was a little fatigue. Nothing too noticeable if you weren't around him all the time. Then his appetite started to disappear. Said he didn't enjoy eating much anymore. He barely was able to make it to see his lover anymore. She seemed oddly understanding. He moved less and less each day until one morning he didn't move at all.
They investigated.
They found nothing.
The headlines read "Malfoy patriarch found dead at home". The article outlined his sudden decline in health and all the poisons they tested for. In the end, it was considered a tragic loss. Then it listed the details for the funeral- three days time in the cemetery in the center of town, graveside service only.
Narcissa folded the paper up and sipped her tea.
Across the city, Hermione did the same.
Sitting in the front of the church on opposite sides of the aisle that day were two beautiful women dressed in black. Each held a single rose that faded from black in the center to red at the tips. Each wore a veil over her eyes.
The pastor stood up and talked about how Lucius was a good man. All his charity work and his life accomplishments. There almost wasn't a dry eye in the house. Severus stood up next, he was the closest Lucius ever had to a brother. He went on about how he was such a good friend.
Well, at least he didn't have to lie like the pastor did.
Narcissa made sure to dab her dry cheeks occasionally.
At the end they stood and walked to the front, everyone laying their roses and bidding the widow goodbye. Before long, there was only Narcissa and Hermione left. They walked up to the casket together and laid down their roses. Hermione offered her condolences with and laid her hand on Narcissa's. They said nothing more, smiled at each other, and Hermione walked away. It was the only time they would ever see one another face to face. Narcissa held in her hand an engagement ring that wasn't her own.
She smiled down at the casket and dropped it in with a handful of dirt. He wasn't the only one hiding a secret.