Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Well, here is the first chapter of my Lumione. I hope that you will enjoy it! This first chapter will be present day and then the subsequent chapters will cover the year prior to see how we got to this point. And then the last few chapters will be where they go after this point. Please let me know if you have any questions, I hope that this will be enough to pique your interest! Inspiration for this story is the song Go Away by Katy B.

I didn't get as far as I wanted last week in this, so I can't promise that updates will be as regular as with Sleeper, but I am gonna try really hard! I would love to know what you thought of chapter one, and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!


June, 2000

The sunlight from her window was what sent Hermione's eyelids fluttering open. She stretched languidly, feeling the pleasant soreness of the previous night working its way out of her muscles. With the feeling of each stretched muscle a memory returned.

Rolling to her side, Hermione opened her brown eyes fully, blinking back the harshness of the light before her eyes focused on her bed companion. Tousled white blond hair framed striking cheekbones, jaw and greek nose, perfectly straight. His face looked completely relaxed in sleep and held none of its usual stoic hardness.

She let her eyes trailed down his bare chest, sparse golden blond hair decorating his pecs. He had shockingly defined abdominals for a man his age, but no six pack that some girls might swoon over. Still, he looked strong and utterly confident in his body.

One arm was slung over the pillow and the other hung limply against the bed, looking for the woman it was previously wrapped around. He looked empty.

What was below his waist was covered loosely by a white cotton sheet, but Hermione was very familiar with what was hidden from view. The thought of it made Hermione blush.

He was truly lovely to look at, but while she lay awake in her bedroom, watching her lover sleep peacefully, Hermione began to feel anger well up inside of her. She'd promised that this thing with Lucius Malfoy was going to stop, but somehow she found herself giving into him again and again.

She was disgusted that she found herself bound by his whims, his schedule, his life. Despite all of his words, his promises, she knew that he would never be able to live up to what she wanted, what she needed.

Her heart was breaking and it was all her fault because she constantly set herself up to fail. She couldn't believe that she'd brought Lucius back to her home again after the ministry party. It needed to stop before she was so broken that she wasn't even Hermione Granger any more, just some hollow, bitter copy of the bright girl she once was.

How could she be such a fool to give in to him again?


Hermione had come to resent the continual circuit of Ministry parties that had become a revolving door of the elite being put on show to prove how good they were and how much they cared about helping war orphans or veterans.

She knew the truth. None of these people really cared if an orphanage got built or if people got therapy to deal with their mental wounds that still lingered. They just cared about drinking and socialising, and showing off the new dress robes that they got that likely cost more than the donation they were going to be making that evening. She hated being paraded around as a war heroine, the same way that Ron and Harry were.

She never took to it as well as the boys did. The papers were always a bit crueler about her social life.

Still, she would dress herself in form fitting Gryffindor red dresses, her lion's mane of hair artfully arranged in an updo to pull back the fiery personality that she possessed. She drank champagne and danced with older wizards who had bad breath and let their hands wander. She avoided her friends and stayed only long enough as was socially acceptable.

For a while, her salvation from these events was sneaking out on balconies with Lucius, sneaking kisses and touches, and drinking whole bottles of pilfered champagne, getting drunk and stumbling back to her flat to join in glorious abandon.

But, he'd shown up with his gorgeous wife on his arm, she being the polar opposite of Hermione physically. She was tall and had curves in all the right places, as the boys would say, with long, straight blonde hair, and a classically beautiful face. She didn't need to wear dresses with artfully arranged ruching to disguise her lacking cleavage.

The Malfoys had swept into the room together, Lucius's large hand resting on the small of her back, guiding her around the room with a perfect smile on his face. Hermione hated the bitter taste in her mouth when she saw his hand stray lower than was publically acceptable.

Spinning away from the sight, from her lover, she made her way to the bar. Normally at these parties, she only drank champagne, but tonight she needed a bit more, and she requested a firewhiskey. She drank half of it in one gulp, trying not to wince at the burn as the liquid slipped down her throat.

For a while, Hermione mingled with her coworkers, counting down the minutes until she could leave this awful place. It was too painful to see him with her, especially when they looked so perfect, when they looked so right with one another. She hated seeing the pair of them laughing away with the Minister.

Extracting herself from a very one-sided conversation with Padma Patil, Hermione decided that she didn't care if her absence was noted. She didn't need to subject herself to this. Rifling through the coat room, she couldn't help but give out a yelp when someone grabbed her, pressing hot lips to her own.

Her not-so-mysterious attacker broke the kiss. She could never forget those lips. "Did you really think that you were going to leave without even saying hello to me?" Lucius's voice was sauve, like silk slipping over her naked body.

She tried to take a step back. "I thought you seemed quite preoccupied. Didn't think you'd even realized I was here." She knew that she sounded jealous, and she hated herself for that. "Now, if you don't mind I was heading home."

He was peppering kisses up and down her neck, one large hand inside her dress, palming her breast, the heel of his hand pressed against her hard nipple. "Take me with you?" He whispered in her ear, and Hermione could feel his smirk when she whimpered. He knew exactly how much he affected her. "As lovely as you look in this dress, I would love to know what you've got on underneath."

Clearing her head, Hermione tried desperately to remember the blonde woman in the other room. "Lucius, you promised me. What about Narcissa?" She should know by now that his promises were all the same. Empty.

But then he pressed himself fully against her, and she could feel his aching cock against her belly, and her concerns were melting away in a lustful haze of firewhiskey. "Narcissa cannot know." He said definitely. "Shall we?"

Hermione bit her lower lip, knowing that she should say no, but she found herself a bit breathless and telling him yes. She could feel his urgency through the side-along apparition to her flat. He was just as desperate as she was to get naked beneath the sheets.

When she opened her eyes, they were in her moonlit room, and she was tugging his long hair from the band that held it neatly at his nape. Savagely, she gripped him by his hair, forcing his lips against her, pressing her tongue between his lips to spar and parry with her.

Then, he was pushing them back and they were tumbling, tumbling onto her bed, and he was covering her body with his own, his body moving like the predator that he was. His hands worked their way behind her body to unzip her figure hugging dress, and Hermione was shimmying out of the silky fabric, leaving it in a heap on the floor, and leaving her bare except for nude, lace knickers.

The look in his grey eyes reminded her of why she did this, again and again. He always looked so in awe of her, as if his words were momentarily stolen.

He got over his shock soon enough, his mouth dropping to one breast, laving her nipple with his tongue and alternating with hard sucks that left her wet between the legs and arching for more. This other hand pinched the neglected nipple, making her whine. Her finger made quick work on the buttons that kept his dress robes together, wanting him to be as bare as she was.

By the time that he kissed down her belly to her sex, Hermione was certain that she'd soaked through her knickers, and she hissed when he pulled them down her legs. His tongue wasn't tentative when he sought out her clit, only confident, confident that he could play her body just right and make her sing. Two long fingers entered her channel, thrusting into her and making her cry out.

Part of the eroticism of it, to Hermione at least, was that it was Lucius Malfoy doing this to her, a mudblood. And knowing that he loved it just as much as she did. Before long, she was coming around his fingers, hips rocking as he sucked her between his lips, letting her ride out the waves of orgasm.

She watched in a daze as he licked his fingers clean, moaning at her taste, before pushing his own boxer briefs down his pale, strong legs. It was another thing she found utterly attractive about him. His confidence to just go after what he wanted, without fear of rejection. And maybe the sight of his proud cock jutting out from his body, wiry golden curls surrounding the base.

He grabbed one of her legs, pushing her knee towards her chest and placing his cock at her entrance. He hesitated for a brief second, giving her the chance to decline, before seating himself fully inside her, groaning at the feel of being fully encapsulated by her cunt.

Hermione pulled him down to kiss her while she adjusted to his size, until he began thrusting. Then, she had to pull her mouth away to sing her praises to the heavens, not caring how wanton she sounded moaning for Lucius Malfoy. "Yes!" She cried, again and again, as he rubbed her exactly the right way.

Lucius peppered kisses against her face and neck, interspersed with praises about how good she was. "Couldn't stop staring at you in that bloody dress."

"Wanted to take you in front of the entire ministry."

"Merlin, can you feel what you do to me?"

Until, finally, her walls were fluttering around him in orgasm, white light flashing behind her eyes, and he was collapsing against her, her name groaned into her ear when he spilt his seed inside of her.

When they'd recovered, he gently lowered her leg, pulling himself from inside her, and rolling off her body. He lay on his side, pulling her head to look back at him. He lurched forward, planting a sloppy kiss on her lips, their tongues joining in a lazy dance. Hermione moaned, feeling her lust for him growing again all too soon.

She pulled away, before things could get out of hand. As if they haven't already. She thought, her bitterness creeping back into her mind.

Lucius gave her a lazy smile, before pulling her body against him, so that she was nestled against him. Her head was tucked under his on the pillow, his arm wrapped around her waist not giving her an inch to move away. His feet intertwined with hers.

Hermione could hear his deep, even breaths and knew that Lucius had drifted off into slumber. Before long, her own eyes were slipping shut.


As if sensing her eyes on his body, Lucius's eyes opened, slowly blinking the sleep from his slate gray eyes. He gave her a cautious half smile, as if sensing the turmoil in her eyes. "Hermione, is everything alright?" He asked, his voice husky, gravelly with sleep.

Hermione detested the excited shiver that raced up and down her spine at the sound of his voice, hating her traitorous body. Then she remembered his words from the night before, that he still hadn't told Narcissa…

"Please, just go away." Hermione told him, her voice wobbling from the pressure of her tears. She wanted to sob her heart out, but she also didn't want to break down. "Just leave me alone. It would be kinder to me."

That got Lucius's attention and he immediately sat up. "Hermione, I don't understand." He tried to push back a lock of her hair, but she jerked away as if burnt.

"It's too hard, I can't do this any more Lucius. I don't even want to look at you." She sat up as well, pulling the sheet around her bare breasts, covering herself from his view. "I can't keep doing this."

"But, Hermione, you know how much I care for you." He said, not accustomed to not getting his way in everything he desired. He thought he could talk his way out of this with pretty words and promises, but at this point his games wouldn't work on her.

Hermione felt the tears spill over her eyelashes when she shut her eyes, fat salty droplets rolling down her cheeks. "I know that you care, Lucius, but it's not enough. Please don't even try to tell me you love me either. Can't you see that this isn't fair to me?" She set her jaw, her resolve strengthening. "It's not fair to Narcissa either." Although the cold blonde woman's feelings were the least of her worries.

Lucius let out a breath of air through his nostrils, as though he were trying to calm himself down. "You know Narcissa means nothing to me, Hermione. You mean so much more to me than she ever could." Hermione wondered what he thought when he looked at her, his muggleborn mistress. Could he ever grow to care enough about her to give her the life she needed?

"But somehow, you don't care about me enough to break it off with her." Hermione accused. "It's not enough for you to tell me you care, I don't want your empty words, Lucius." She said, strongly, letting all of her pent up resentment spill over.

Hermione wiped desperately at her tears, hating that she was so weak in front of him, but unable to stop. She tried to watch dispassionately as he slowly rose from the bed, his naked body completely revealed to her eyes as he redressed, clearly trying to give her time to recall him.

Once he was completely covered once more, he looked at her, hurt clear in his eyes, and Hermione thought this might be the first true emotion that she'd seen from the devious man. "Are you sure this is what you want, Hermione?"

"Yes, I think my world will be a much better place without you in it." She said, resolutely, not willing to crumble back into his arms. "Please, just go away."

Lucius nodded once more, before he turned and left her bedroom. She didn't walk him out, he was familiar enough with her flat that he knew the way to the door. Once she heard the latch click shut, she allowed herself to break down.

Flopping back against her pillows, her body racked with sobs while she clutched the pillow he'd slept on, hating herself that she loved his scent.

Several hours after he'd left her tears had dried, but she still hadn't moved herself from her bed, even though the stickiness between her legs disgusted her. She laid there, watching the sun move slowly across the room, taking a moment to reveal in the warmth it provided.

She let her mind wander to how she'd allowed it to get so bad. How on earth had she allowed herself to get so sucked into his web, and how did she let herself get sucked in time and time again? How had she let herself become so affected by him, his presence?

What had happened to Hermione Granger to make her this way?