Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to an area far outside my comfort zone! I've never really thought about this pairing but a plot bunny permanent residence in my head and here it is.

A/N: This story is set in an AU where Lucius never married, Draco was never born, and Hermione is older, starting Hogwarts in 1984.

Lucius Malfoy stretched leisurely, smirking at the widening eyes of the man in front of him. The man was small and pigheaded, a waste of space even in Lucius's airy office.

"Mr. Malfoy, I beg for you to reconsider," Marcus Parkinson pleaded, running his hands in front of him in fear. The goblet of wine the man was drinking shook precociously as his entire body trembled in fear. The room was filled with the sound of his nervous panting and Lucius soaked it in gleefully.

Lucius paused, letting his companion's desperation echo. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously soft. "And why, Parkinson, would I pass a law against Mudbloods attending Hogwarts?"

Marcus Parkinson gaped. "But Lucius, you hate Mudbloods!"

Lucius sighed, rubbing his forehead. The meeting had been entertaining at first, but it was clear that Marcus had long since passed his prime. "My feelings on them are not important. The point being is that unlike you fools, I remained neutral during the rule of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and for it, I have gained prestige as a neutral member of this ministry. Why would I throw it away to become a poor, status-less person such as yourself?"

Marcus bristled at the insult towards his family's wealth and Lucius's lips curved in a half-smirk. 1-0 him.

Marcus glared. "If you don't side us, Lucius, you will never be a part of our society again. When the Dark Lord rises, I'll be sure to inform him of your betrayal."

Lucius laughed dryly. "When your lord rises, I doubt he will have time for desperate fools such as yourself. But, in the case he does, you may give him my warmest condolences."

Marcus stood up, drained his goblet, and with one final death-glare, walked towards the door. Lucius watched the door slam with a detached boredom.

Staring at the empty goblet in front of him, Lucius wondered how long it would take for the poison to kick in.

Lucius kicked and turned that night, unable to sleep even on his own silk-smooth sheet. Marcus Parkinson was a fool, yes, but he had brought up and interesting point.

Born and raised in a Dark, Pure-Blooded family, Lucius was far from naïve. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would rise again, whether it was in the next year or in a decade from now. But what was he, Lucius Malfoy of the Malfoy fortune, to do about it?

Perhaps taking a good look at Hogwarts might be the best idea. Surely, there would be at least one muggleborn child who could prove to be a good investment?

Suddenly, a thought hit and Lucius shot up. Surely, it didn't exist, but if it did… he didn't even dare to dream.

But as he fell asleep, Lucius couldn't get the idea of a Slytherin Mudblood out of his head.