Chapter Seven: Tuesday

Lucius' eyes were barely open the next morning as he flooed into work. He stepped toward his office and spotted Hermione at the water cooler talking with some of their co-workers. The pink sweater she had on hugged her pert breasts in just the right places, and he was immediately much more awake than he wanted to be.

Damned burning blood—if they didn't come together soon he was going to go insane. Keeping his face as expressionless as possible, he said, "Miss Granger, will you step into my office, please?"

"Of course," Hermione agreed, her expression equally wooden.

Inside the door, Hermione stopped when she did not immediately see where Lucius went. She felt rather than saw him as his arm snaked around her waist, drawing her against him. His lips traced the shell of her ear before he inquired, "How did you sleep last night, my dear?"

"Oh, I—I had the most unusual dream," she said "I dreamt that silly cat you gave me could talk."

"Did she—did she say anything in particular?" he asked. Hermione felt his body tense, and began to suspect he might already be well aware of their new feline friend's communicative abilities.

Chuckling, she said, "Only that I should make you suffer for sort of bonding us without even asking first. I thought even in the Wizarding World it was customary to have at least a first date before inextricably combining your magic with the woman to whom you're attracted—"

"Hermione, stop it," he said sternly. "You do not want to make me giggle like a girl in the middle of the office I'm meant to be efficiently running. It might give the others the wrong impression."

"Maybe I should do just that," she grinned wickedly. "You're much too uptight, anyway."

"And you think denying our blood will somehow reduce that tension?" he wanted to know as his hand traced down the curve of her hip.

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

"No doubt," he smirked. "I'm going to kiss you now, Miss Granger, and I dare you to deny what you feel then."

Hermione's whole body lit up at the sound of those words, and she knew if he did that, she would throw herself right down on top of his desk and serve herself up as his lunch if he asked her to. Their eyes locked and held, breaths coming fast, their lips mere centimeters apart, when Kingsley stepped in.

"Lucius? Hermione? What is going on?"

"Oh, Miss Granger thought she had something in her eye," he explained. "I was trying to see if I could get it out for her."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said. "I believe you must have succeeded. I'll see you gentlemen later."

"Very good, Granger," said Lucius. "And if Pussy talks again, perhaps you should listen."

Kingsley's brow shot up at this.

Laughing at this, Hermione's eyes widened, but when she saw Lucius' poker face she laughed even more. "I will tell my new cat you send your regards, sir," she replied demurely, and then left as quickly as she could.

"Hermione got a new cat?" Kingsley asked. "Was that wise?"

"I am hoping so, sir," Lucius replied. "I thought perhaps it might help us flush out a would-be killer."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "A most unusual idea. But what possessed her to call it Pussy?"

"I don't know," said Lucius, more straight-faced than ever. "It certainly had nothing to do with the beast's fur, since it doesn't have any at all."

Kingsley's eyes underwent several changes as he digested this news. Before he burst into laughter himself, he blushed and said, "Well, I forgot why I came in here completely. I'll have to come back later, I think."

"Yes, Minister," Lucius answered, the picture of innocence as the man turned on his heel and popped away from view. Then he stepped over to pour himself a small glass of water from his pitcher, and he stood there sipping it, trying not to chuckle. "This cat may be more interesting than I thought," he commented before sitting at his desk and getting to work on some of the paperwork waiting there.

"Um, Mr. Malfoy?" said Hermione softly as she poked her nose in his door. "Are you not going to have lunch?"

"Oh, Her—Miss Granger, I had no idea so much time had passed," he admitted as he looked up from his desk. His blood literally boiled as he caught sight of her slim body as she leaned on the doorframe. "Why do you ask, my dear?"

"Thought maybe you'd like to eat with me," she said. "I made more food than I needed, and I didn't see you come in with any earlier, so—well, I made chicken salad. Do you like chicken salad."

"Yes, I find it most agreeable," he answered with a smirk. "Would you like to eat in here, or out among the masses?"

"Is it a good idea to eat in here?" she asked uncertainly.

"Define good," said Lucius with a smirk.

"So it's probably a bad idea," she commented, trying not to laugh.

Lucius stood up and strode methodically up to her. When their noses were touching and their bodies may as well have been, too, he said, "Define bad."

"Th-this is bad," she said.

"Is it?" he inquired with a wry grin. "I rather thought it was very good."

"That's why it's so very bad," she pointed out. "Kingsley—"

"—is at a meeting in the lower levels," Lucius finished. "He isn't likely to bother our—repast."

"It's just lunch, Lucius," she chastised him. "No blood firing talk—just a simple meal between fellow employees."

"Whatever you say, Granger," he practically purred. "But we both know you came back because you couldn't stand being so close, and yet so very far away."

"Think what you like," Hermione said as casually as she could. "I'll go get the food."

Lucius chuckled warmly as he watched her go, and he was still smiling to himself when his personal secretary stepped in. "Did you need anything for lunch, boss? I'm off."

"No, Allison," he answered. "I'll be dining in today. But thank you."

"Sure thing," she said, though she frowned slightly when she didn't see any food to be eaten there, and then she shrugged and popped out of view.