A/N I have a chapter with a bit more meat in it tonight. Thank you again to everybody who has reviewed, followed and favourited. I got a lovely guest review which I couldn't reply to. They asked for more domestic scenes. Sadly our intrepid pair have been out and about quite a bit recently but hang in there for the finale...I'm going for full domesticity there!

Hermione paced anxiously up and down the floor of her kitchen, come living room. The soft cream silk of her evening gown whispered against the floorboards as she moved but, for the first time since Lucius had overhauled her wardrobe she paid little attention to her own clothing. Her eyes were fixed on the bedroom door where a very grumpy Lucius Malfoy was preparing for an evening at the muggle opera.

It had been Hermione's idea. It was all very well, she said, being seen mingling with the pureblood families and at fancy society events but wasn't it important that the ordinary wizarding world be reminded that she was still at heart a muggle born woman of the people? Lucius had argued that all she needed to do in order to facilitate that impression was to allow herself to be photographed during any one of her numerous meetings with National Hero No. 1 Harry Potter. He had unwittingly walked straight into Hermione's neatly baited trap. She had gleefully informed him that she had four tickets for the opening night of Carmen which Ginny Potter, who had inherited her father's love of all things muggle, was desperate to attend. She had promised him that if he would escort her not only would she be seen with Harry and Ginny but she would allow them to be photographed too.

Try as he might to weasel his way out of it Lucius had to admit it was the perfect opportunity, thus he had endured the horrific experience of the muggle tailor (although Hermione thought the latter part of the trip had made up for the indignity of being quite so carefully measured). He had point blank refused to allow Hermione to help him into the tuxedo though. He had taken it and himself into her bedroom and magically locked the door. He had been in there for over half an hour, Hermione was beginning to wonder if he had climbed out a window.

Finally the door opened and a very self conscious Lucius emerged. Hermione swallowed hard. She was used to Lucius Malfoy. He cut an imposing figure in his wizarding robes and quite a mouth watering one naked. She had not expected to be so affected by the sight of him in muggle evening dress. The well cut dinner jacket accentuated his broad shoulders, tapering snugly to his flat stomach and narrow waist. The trousers hugged his muscular thighs, enhancing the length of his legs and somehow making Hermione feel even smaller in comparison to him.
"You look very nice." Her mouth had gone dry.
Lucius scowled. "I look ridiculous."
Hermione shook her head. "Would you turn around please."
He gave her the patented Malfoy raised brow but, undaunted, she circled her finger at him. "Turn around." He sighed loudly but complied.
Hermione gave a little hum of approval. "You should check the pockets."
"what for?"
"Sometimes they leave them sewn up, you might need me to unpick them for you."
He cast her a scowl over his shoulder but thrust his hands into his pockets. Hermione could not contain the moan that escaped her as the fabric of his trousers was pulled lovingly over the tight sphere of his arse. Lucius spun around in surprise.

"Why Miss Granger, you little lech." His self consciousness appeared to have been short lived as he strolled towards her in his usual predatory fashion. She retreated away from him until the back of her thighs hit the kitchen table.
"Am I to assume from your woeful lack of self control and manipulative behaviour that you approve of my new clothes?" His hands were on her waist, his warm breath brushing her cheek.
She placed her own hands on his chest, gently stroking the cotton of his pleated shirt front. "I very much approve."
"Good." His tongue traced the outline of her ear as he pressed against her. Muggle trousers and a very thin silk dress did little to conceal his growing arousal.
"Lucius!" Her voice sounded ridiculously breathy as he began to bunch up the silk of her dress.
"Yes?"
"We're going to be late."
"I don't' care."

They weren't late. Hermione had factored in Lucius' irrepressible libido, although not his protracted dressing time, into her scheduling. They met Harry and Ginny outside the theatre just before the final bell rang. Hermione was immensely grateful to her two friends as they greeted Lucius cordially. Harry even went so far as to shake his hand rather than the only-just-not-rude head not he had favoured the older man with before. Lucius had, of course, turned on the charm, congratulating them both on Ginny's pregnancy and asking politely about the their baby preparations. Hermione found the whole event a little surreal. In truth she was very grateful to be seated inside the warm theatre with the physical barrier of her body between Lucius and her friends.

Lucius proved to be a most irritating companion. Despite the fact that Hermione knew he spoke better French than she he fidgeted constantly and kept up an incessant stream of questions which, when coupled with Ginny's own queries meant that Hermione took in very little of the performance.

The queue on the stairs between acts was painfully tight and Hermione was feeling thoroughly disgruntled when they finally reached the bar. Lucius took himself off to buy their drinks and Ginny excused herself to make an obligatory visit to the bathroom.

Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into the relative privacy of a corner of the bar.
"Mione what have you done to Malfoy?"
Hermione's eye was immediately drawn to the tall, pale figure at the bar. His blond hair was no less striking for being tied neatly back from his face. "You mean getting him into a tuxedo, it was not easy Harry."
"No!" The boy who lived rolled his eyes at his friend's gross stupidity. "I mean getting him to apologise to Ginny."
"He apologised? When?"
"Back there on the stairs, I heard. You were too busy reading your programme to notice. Did you put him up to it?"
Hermione shook her head, dislodging a few curls from her careful up do. "Of course not. I don't think I have that sort of influence." She looked back towards Malfoy who was handing over a muggle note as if he frequented these establishments frequently, waving at the bar tender to keep the change.
"Do you think he's changed though?" Harry's gaze followed hers, "I mean really changed? He seems so different now."

Hermione chewed her lip, thinking back to the Lucius Malfoy she had known in the past. The man who had taught Draco to call her mudblood, who had stood by as she was tortured, who had slipped Voldemort's diary into Ginny's cauldron. She didn't recognise that man. And even the man coming towards them across the crowded bar in a muggle tuxedo, his hair pulled back, juggling three glasses of wine in his large hands with a bottle of water for Ginny tucked untidily into his jacket pocket seemed unfamiliar. "He does, doesn't he?" She answered Harry as she stepped forward to relieve Lucius of his burdens.

She took in even less of the second half. Even though the show was excellent, the singing sublime, the costumes splendid she didn't notice a thing which irritated Lucius no end rendering her unable to answer any of his questions.

They exited the theatre to flashbulbs muggle in honour of the opening night, poorly concealed wizarding in honour of Harry and Hermione. Harry and Ginny obligingly posed, Hermione less so, Lucius acted as if the photographers weren't there at all.

Hermione insisted they get a taxi home. At almost nine months pregnant Ginny was far too pregnant to apparate safely anyway and she was excited at the prospect of experiencing a taxi ride. Lucius was clearly less impressed as he folded his long elegant form into the black cab. He regarded Hermione curiously as she leaned across him to pull the seatbelt down over his body.
"This will hold you in place if we crash." She demonstrated the seatbelt by yanking hard on the fabric, next to Lucius' head. He gave her a supercilious look but out the corner of her eyes she saw him surreptitiously testing the seat belt.

As they drew out into the London traffic Ginny made a moue of displeasure.
"This isn't quite as appealing in reality as in my imagination." She sniffed heavily, "What is that smell."
"Diesel I think," Harry placed his hand gently on her knee. "I think you might be a little more sensitive than most right now." Hermione smiled at the two of them.
"You do realise this is probably the last time I'm going to see you two before..." She paused before gesticulating meaningfully at Ginny's distended belly.
"Oh don't say that." Ginny rubbed her stomach. "I'm terrified!"
"I'm excited." Harry turned to her with a grin.
Lucius twitched his lips in his closest approximation to a smile. "I remember feeling a combination of the two before Draco was born."
Three sets of eyes swivelled towards him and he shrugged rather defensively. "I am capable of the odd bout of human emotion from time to time."
"Wonders never cease." Harry muttered half under his breath. Hermione shot him a malevolent look which he correctly interpreted. "I never imagined I'd see you in a muggle taxi Mr Malfoy." He said in a more conciliatory tone.
Lucius gave a disdainful sniff. "There are some forms of muggle technology I am willing to embrace Mr Potter," he said rather stiffly. "I do not think motor cars will be one of them."
"I quite agree." Ginny broke into the rather tense conversation, "this is even worse than a portkey, are we nearly there?"
Harry glanced out the window. "Yes we are." He tapped on the glass and the driver flicked on his intercom. "Can you let us out here please?"
Hermione noticed they were still a couple of streets away from Grimmauld place, clearly Harry's amnesty with Malfoy didn't quite extend to letting the older wizard know where he lived.

The taxi drew to a halt.
"Take care," Hermione, leaned over to hug Ginny. "Owl me when you have news OK?"
"I will." Ginny smiled as Harry hopped out of the taxi and came round to the other side to help her out. Just before the red headed witch heaved her considerable bulk out of the cab she leaned across the aisle and placed her hand on Lucius' leg.
"Thank you Mr Malfoy." She said quietly before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. With a final wave at Hermione she was out of the taxi. As they pulled away in the direction of Hermione's flat she saw Lucius raise his hand to touch the spot on his cheek that Ginny had kissed.

He didn't speak for several minutes. Finally though he turned to Hermione. "Now Miss Granger please enlighten me, can muggles truly predict the future using such a blunt instrument as a pack of cards?"

It was an unfortunate angle, that was all. Well, it wasn't just the angle. It was one of those photographs which contrive to falsely capture a moment in time that never truly existed but is held forever immortalised. Lucius had somehow managed to lean over Hermione whilst simultaneously staring at her with a look of such visceral hunger that even she was slightly unnerved by it. Meanwhile she, apparently unaware of the fact that her companion appeared to want to eat her alive, was looking up at him with a look which could only be described as vacuous devotion. The photo took up the whole front page of the Daily Prophet with only a small insert in which Hermione repeatedly stood on tiptoe to kiss Lucius and his hand (now helpfully circled in red) repeatedly palmed her backside.

Rita Skeeter had just returned from three weeks in the Caribbean which seemed to have done little to blunt her quill when it came to Hermione. The by line was no more flattering than the photography. The vitriol filled piece suggested that Hermione Granger had been dangerously influenced by her death eater lover, that her continual fraternisation with pureblood families was evidence of her having been brainwashed by the depraved Lucius Malfoy. The article hypothesised that she was little more than a vapid handmaiden to a criminal mastermind and a vote for Hermione Granger was, in truth, a vote for Lucius Malfoy and pureblood supremacy.

Hermione had ignored the prophet. She had ignored the three owls Lucius had sent her asking if she was alright. She could not ignore Harry, Ron (and rather surprisingly) Draco, when they arrived at her desk baring (inedible) food from the canteen and the latest opinion polls. Hermione's share of the vote had significantly dropped. Despite her friends' reassurances she was devastated. She had wanted to lock herself in the toilets and cry but Hermione Granger was not a weeping in the cubicle kind of girl. Instead she ate the horrible canteen food. Drank a cup of tea with two sugars and thanked the boys for their support. Then she shooed them out of her office and got on with dealing with the ongoing saga of the purple cows (one had given birth to a magenta calf).

As she expected Lucius was waiting for her when she arrived home. She wasn't sure which of them was more surprised when she flung herself into his arms and sobbed inconsolably against his robes. Lucius had patted her back in a slightly awkward manner before withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her.

She slumped onto the sofa, a picture of self indulgent misery. Lucius took a seat next to her.

"You know, Hermione," his thumb brushed across her knuckles and she realised with a flash of warmth in her chest that he was holding her hand. "I've been expecting this backlash for some time now. The election is less than a week away and The Prophet has played right into our hands."

"Really?" Hermione gave a loud sniff. "You do know I actually want to win the election don't you?"

"Of course, and now your opponents think you're done. They will concentrate their slander on each other ignoring you."

"That's because I am done Lucius, I'm a vapid handmaiden." She succumbed to a further storm of weeping.

Lucius sighed. "You are not a vapid handmaiden although your weeping is most irritating. "

"Thank you so much, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. How do I prove I'm not a vapid handmaiden?"

"I would have thought that would be obvious, perhaps you are getting a bit intellectually flabby now you have me to think for you!"

She slapped his arm. "It's not obvious to me Mr Malfoy so please, enlighten me, how do I prove I'm not a vapid handmaiden to a criminal mastermind."

Lucius smirked. "By breaking up with him of course"

Hermione gazed at him, completely silenced. But I don't want to break up with you a small voice whispered somewhere in the depths of her mind. Lucius proved himself not to be a mind reader as he opened the ever present diary and ran a long finger down the pages.

"Perfect." He breathed. "In two days time you have your final candidates debate, followed by a dinner at the ministry." You can dramatically and publicly sever your ties with me there. He sounded so matter of fact. Hermione bit her lip and avoided his eyes. He misunderstood her discomfiture lifting her hand to press his soft lips against her skin. "It will work, I promise you." You'll be occupying the Minister for Magic's office by next Monday.

Hermione nodded at his words and allowed her head to drop down onto his shoulder. She believed him, how could she not? He had steered her course so perfectly throughout her entire campaign she would not lose faith in him now. Why then did what she needed to do seem so terribly wrong?

A/N Well they couldn't just carry on doing the washing up together and having amazing sex forever could they?