A/N: I was listening to 'Walk Away' by Five Finger Death Punch, and this plot bunny dug it's way into my brain, and has been messing with my ability to write anything else. So, I wrote this to rid myself of the plot bunny. This is a one-shot. I have three WIPs posted on this site and two not posted, so I have no immediate plans to write a sequel and/or a prequel to this. Maybe with enough support those plans may change, but it'll take a while.
Here comes the legal stuff. I am not JKR. I don't own HP or any of the characters or settings contained therein. I make no profit from this.
So, I'd reccomend heading over to You Tube or something and checking out the song before you read this because it's very closely tied into the song. Go ahead. It'll wait.
Back? Good. Enjoy, and please review.
The party had died down, the guests had all gone from the large, now mostly-dark manor. Lucius had poured himself a generous helping of elf-made wine, and was sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, staring into the dancing flames, thinking of the past few months when she entered. She said nothing as she took the seat next to his on the couch, not sitting too close to him, but close enough he could see every exquisitely made-up detail about her, from the stunning red dress, to the carefully matched jewelry, and the hairstyle that must have taken hours but was now becoming messy and undone. She looked perfect.
"That dress looks quite enchanting on you," he smiled as he poured her a goblet of wine.
"Thank you," Hermione murmured, taking the glass and staring at him as she took a long sip. "You do know what tonight is, don't you?" she asked quietly.
"From the party we just held, I would imagine less than two weeks until Christmas," he replied in his soft drawl.
"It has been the requisite month since my bill was pass. A month and four days, if you want to be technical about it. We're free."
He looked somewhat taken aback by this news.
"Would you prefer a public breakup, or perhaps we should break it off quietly and let the press figure it out when they will?"
"I had rather thought our... actions of late might have diminished the need for a breakup scene at all," he looked at her in confusion.
"You mean the sex?" she asked in surprise. "Lucius, I didn't..."
"You're about to tell me that it didn't mean a thing to you, aren't you?"
"I thought the feeling was mutual," she replied in a quiet voice.
"Perhaps your powers of perception aren't as legendary as they have been made out to be," he hissed.
"Perhaps I knew, deep down... and it was wrong of me to take advantage of that fact. I'm sorry if that makes me a demon of sorts. But you are no angel yourself, Lucius. You must have seen where I might be a bit skeptical about the thought that sex with a mudblood might not mean anything to you, either."
"Your actions in the public eye seem to have been different recently as well."
"I made a deal with you, and I played my part well. I did everything you had asked of me when it came to said deal. I thought that, had we been in a real relationship, my affections and attitudes towards you would be growing over the course of our six months together, and adjusted my public face to display that. It may have been considered cruel to say such things if you were harboring feelings towards me, considering there was no truth behind them. But I don't regret a single word I said, Mr. Malfoy."
His gray eyes met her brown, hoping that they betrayed some emotion, but they were stone. There was no hint of her attempting to hide anything from him. Her words were the truth.
There was a long silence before she muttered, "Lucius, you gave me what I wanted. You threw enough money around the Ministry to get the Werewolf Rights Act passed. And I gave you what you wanted. I acted like your witch for the past six months. I went with you to every social function you could think of, no matter how much of a persona non grata I felt. I allowed you to take me on dates so we looked like a legitimate couple. I showed you affections when the situation called for it. And I haven't breathed a word of our arrangement to anyone, even though the Weasleys have treated me somewhat like a pariah recently. Please, let's just end this easily and walk away."
"I have no desire to walk away, Hermione," he replied, eyes burning into hers.
Her eyes misted over. "Have you no idea the hell this is for me?" she said, trying to contain a sob.
"Excuse me?" he asked, taken aback.
"Do you not remember what happened to me here?" she asked, her voice an octave higher. "Did you not think that my coming over here regularly would bring back painful memories? Did you not wonder how I could barely stay past dark so I could pretend to spend the night?"
"I did not consider that," he admitted in a low voice. "You hid your emotions quite well."
"It is a trait I wish I had never had to learn," she snapped. "I'm sorry, Lucius, but there is nothing left for me to feel for this place other than complete contempt."
"And if I said I would never subject you to these walls again?"
"None of this is real!" she hissed, pointing sharply between them. "Why should I continue to pretend that it is? Our bargain is over!"
"Some of the things you have been saying may have led me to believe..."
"I'm sorry if I told you that I cared. It was something said in the heat of the moment, and things that are said post-coitus cannot always be believed," she blushed as she looked pointedly into the fire. "If I told you I'd be there, that I'd stay, it was a lie brought about by alcohol and good sexual relations. I should have kept my mouth shut, but at the time I'm sure I lacked the ability."
"And you let me say those things about you in the press when you knew I was speaking more from the heart than you were ever going to be willing to?"
"Heaven help me, but I hope you look like a complete arse Mr. Malfoy. I'm probably going to laugh as I watch you try to put yourself back together once I'm gone. Old wounds run deep, sometimes they never heal."
"That is beyond cruel, Ms. Granger," he shot back through clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry you may have thought so, but I've never cared at all," she replied. "I am attempting to be civil about this, but the more you fight it, the more I'm beginning to wonder why I don't put out a press release and say what I truly feel."
He was across the couch in a flash, hand grabbing her wrist, causing a few drops of wine to spill over the side of the goblet and onto the dress he had loved to see her in so much. "You wouldn't dare..."
"Then make this easy on us both, Lucius! Walk away," she insisted, not backing down.
"I do not wish to walk away," he growled. "You may not think we meant anything, but I think you're just afraid to admit anything."
"There was never any hope of a relationship between us," her voice wavered as she said it. "You know the deal, and I upheld my end of the bargain. We agreed to walk away from this after six months. Even the extra four days has been too much. I should have insisted on the breakup announcement the moment we hit six months."
A desperation came over his eyes, and his hand loosened it's grip on her. "Please, Hermione..."
"Please, Lucius," she cut him off in a whisper. "Pretend that none of this is real."
"Is?" he breathed.
She realized her mistake as soon as he said it. The wine glass was shoved into his hand, and he had to fumble to keep it from falling and smashing into the ground. She used his moment of distraction to slide quickly off the couch. Her heels clacked softly on the tile as she walked quickly from the room, and a moment later there was the sound of the heavy front door slamming.