Lucius Malfoy didn't know how to feel after his long talk with Hermione. He walked to his bedroom but couldn't get her off his mind the entire time, consumed by thoughts of her and what had just played out. It had been years since he had connected with anyone on the same level that he had connected with Hermione. The last person he ever felt that truly interested in was his dearly departed wife. No. He could never compare his stunning pureblood bride to that of plain Muggle-born Hermione Granger. They were not the same person and they never would. Hermione paled in every aspect compared to Narcissa. He snorted. Maybe that was why he was still alone and single… In his mind, no one was as good as Narcissa.
He had to give it to her though, she was interesting and so very smart. He had actually enjoyed spending the night with her just talking and getting to know her and he hated himself for thinking this, but he might like to do that again sometime.
He had learned a great deal more about Hermione Granger in the past few hours that he had ever really known about her. From her upbringing to what made her tick right through to how miserable and was that Ron Weasley wouldn't leave her life. Instead, he hung on like a parasite and refused to let go and acknowledge defeat. And although Hermione said she didn't want his help to rid her life of the red-headed parasite he thought that perhaps he would help anyway. A pleasant and intelligent woman such as that didn't deserve the misery and condemnation she was currently going through.
Yes. Maybe he would help her out, after all, he wasn't under the hand of a maleficent puppeteer anymore and could live his life how he saw fit, even if it meant helping the bushy-haired little know-it-all Mudblood… Muggle-born, he corrected himself. He didn't have to lower himself anymore to the vulgarity of calling her a Mudblood anymore.
She shook his head, long blonde hair flying wayward with the movement. What had happened to him and where was the real Lucius?
o-o-o-o-o
Eyes heavy with sleep her eyelids slowly fluttered open. The room was blurry as her eyes tried to adjust to the light flooding through the large windows. It had to be at least twelve in the afternoon she deduced by the way the sun hung high in the blue sky. In a panic, she sat up and looked around. Her head throbbed and her mouth dry as if it were packed full of cotton wool. Where in the hell did she fall asleep last night?
Then is all came flooding back. Shit. She was never drinking again. Ever. The light burned at her retinas and her head throbbing, she closed her eyes and lay her head down again where she had been sleeping. Never in a million years would she have ever had dinner with Lucius let alone let him sweet-talk her into coming to his home.
"Hungover?" The deep baritone voice of Lucius hit her ears and she was sure there was a tangle of amusement dancing on his tone. "Happens to the best of us." He mused, drawing the curtains shut on the sitting room so she could at least open her eyes without her head feeling as if it were about to split into two.
He watched her intently. Hair wayward and knotted, last nights mascara giving her the illusion that perhaps she was related more to a panda than any humans, the once pressed clothes she fell asleep in crumpled and creased and her heels sat on the floor; now nothing more than an afterthought. She looked completely and utterly dishevelled.
She writhed in place, the painful head-splitting headache gnawed at her psyche, she wanted to keep sleeping and get a few more hours but she knew that wasn't possible. She wanted to get home and run from here as fast as she could. Or did she? She had really enjoyed her night with Lucius. He was well-spoken, well-mannered and dare she say it… Interesting. Damn. No. She shouldn't be taking a liking to the man. He was vile, evil, crude, cruel, condescending and vindictive…Just a few adjectives she thought that fitted his description well.
"Well. At least you didn't murder me in cold blood." Her voice muffled as she talked into the pillow rather than him.
He sat on the edge of the bed and she rolled towards him just a little as the mattress sunk. "I told you I wouldn't, and I am a man of my word. If I were going to kill you, I would have done so as you slept the entire morning away in my sitting room. It would have been a perfect crime; nobody knows you are here."
She rolled over and glared at him. "You have put a lot of thought into this."
"Indeed. I have the great Hermione Granger in my home in the most vulnerable position someone could be in- slumber, and you didn't think it crossed my mind?" A malicious glint crossed his eye just as he ducked as a pillow came flying towards him.
"I was supposed to be at work today and instead I am here, drinking and then sleeping half the day away. What the hell has become of my life?" She asked mostly to herself as she sat up again, the headache making her feel as if she went twenty rounds with a Hippogriff she perched precariously on the edge of the bed next to Lucius.
"I don't know what has become of my own life let alone anyone else's," Lucius retorted as Hermione's leg brushed softly against his own and his breath caught in his throat. He tried to ignore the fact her leg was resting against his own but not having the touch of a female of late, he found it incredibly hard to tune it out.
"I'm going home," she sighed sadly looking forlornly across the room.
"Are you sure you don't want me to make him disappear from your life and this earth?" Lucius asked hopefully but was only met with a glower.
"Fine, fine." He held his hands up defensively. "Can I at least have my permit to import my dragon?" He asked hopefully once more, still trying to drown out the soft touch of her leg against his own as want and need throbbing through his body. It had been that many years since he had fucked anything, he would gladly shag anything on two or four legs now, a Hippogriff, a Unicorn… a Muggle-born.
"I'm still thinking about that. Now I know the reason you want the dragon I am more inclined to agree with you having it. However, I still worry about the welfare of the beast. I know how heavy handed you can be… for lack of a better word and I worry that the dragon will be punished and dealt a heavy hand."
She fished around for her shoes, breaking contact with his leg and he felt a little crestfallen at that fact. The warmth that was radiating from her to him all but gone.
"Oh, but Miss Granger-," he stopped abruptly as she held a hand up and cut him off quickly.
"I just spent the night in your home, getting drunk with you and I daresay I kind of enjoyed it, we can drop all formalities and you can call me Hermione from here on in."
"Ok, Hermione," Her name rolled off his tongue with the ease of water flowing from a waterfall. "How else do you deal with a dragon besides a heavy hand and a head-on approach? Do you smother it with rainbows and kisses? And with all due respect I have shown you nothing but kindness and respect since you have entered my home, I had more than enough opportunities to slaughter you in cold blood and hide your body where it would never see the light of day again, instead I have shown you that I have changed my ways and perhaps adopted a less brutal approach to things in life. Perhaps you could afford me this one permit, this one chance to show you that I have changed for the better."
She watched him with deep regard. Perhaps he had changed… Fuck it. She didn't want to hand over this permit with such ease. She wanted to make him work for it and earn it but he was making it really hard to hold the disdain she felt towards him when he has turned out to be so genuine of late.
She sighed a mix of anger and frustration. "Come by my office tomorrow and we will see. I have to get home." She tucked her feet in her shoes, hopelessly smoothed her hands over her crumbled shirt and tried to push her knotted and wayward hair out of the way.
He watched her. Never in a million years did he even see a day go by where Narcissa never fully made herself. In Fact, he couldn't even tell you a day he saw her without a hair out of place on her head and here was Hermione Granger with little care or regard for her appearance and he wasn't sure if he liked the confidence about her or if perhaps she should take more care with her appearance. The brazen witch really didn't care what people thought of her and he liked that aspect about her. He liked how genuine and kind she was, and he liked how interesting he found she was.
Fuck. He actually liked Hermione Granger. And it was with sincerity. Never, ever did he think this day would come and he was kind of taken aback that it had taken him this long to work it out. Of all the stories Draco had told him, he had assumed Hermione was some fire breathing hag that had a vendetta against the world, but she was quite the opposite. Perhaps she just had a short fuse of assholery which no doubt Draco had riled her up during their school years.
He breathed. He only needed his permit and that was it. He could go back to his life of solitude and push down all thoughts good or bad of Hermione Granger. He would never have to see her again save for when she dropped in to check on the Dragon every now and then.
Hermione began to walk out of the sitting room, snapping Lucius's attention back to her. "I'm going," she called out over her shoulder, the clacking of her heels on the marble floor echoed throughout the foyer just like Narcissa's used to do.
"Let me walk you to the gates, Hermione," He called out and took a few large strides to catch up with her. The least he could do was extended his chivalry. After all, he didn't have that dragon yet.
A/N: Wow. Thank you, everyone! I can't thank you enough for your words of encouragement and reviews. This is my first story with this pairing, and I am trying so hard to do them justice. I'm more of a Sev fan so it's hard for me to write Lucius. Let me know how I am going. I had a few reviews saying if I wanted the relationship to progress, I would have to stop Lucius calling Hermione a Mudblood, which is fine in theory but not in practice. When I write Lucius the phrase Mudblood just wants to spill forth from my fingers and incite hatred so changing my train of thought is incredibly hard. I just can't see him changing his ways, even after the war but for intents and purposes of this story, I feel I had to let the hate between them diminish. -Aliasmel1
