Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! You are an awesome bunch. We can all agree from last chapter that Ron's a douche. Unfortunately, I'll have to subject you to his presence in this chapter. I'll make up for it, I promise!

Let me know what you think :)

Happy weekend,

Lana

Hermione lay exhausted on her lover's bed, completely spent after another round of lovemaking. The setting sun made the room appear almost lilac. Behind her, Lucius groaned and wrapped his arm around her waist, tenderly kissing her shoulder blade. He draped one leg over both of hers. She turned her head back to look at him, finding his warm gray irises fixated on her. She snuggled close into his embrace.

Her eyes began to close uncontrollably, but as she was about to drift off to sleep, he spoke, "May I ask you a rather personal question?"

"Of course."

His hand languidly traced over her thigh. "I noticed that you're not very keen on receiving oral sex, why is that?"

Her drowsy state quickly dissipated. "Oh! I suppose it's because … Well, my last boyfriend found it unsanitary. That's what he called it." She let out a sad sigh.

He laughed. "Then he should find everything about sex repulsive. Sex is not supposed to be sanitary. Exchanging bodily fluids is by definition unsanitary, but if everyone was so squeamish, the human race would go extinct. And that's your only reason?"

"Yes. I had to wonder sometimes if it was me," she admitted.

"You're serious?"

She nodded, burying her face in the pillow.

Lucius turned her back to him. "Weasley was daft idiot for making you feel this way even once. I can prove to you that he couldn't possibly be more wrong."

"You already did," she said with a shy smile.

"Something tells me that as much as you enjoyed it, you're not fully convinced." He lay back down. "Up here, Miss Granger."

"Up where?"

"Straddle my face," he told her.

Hermione obeyed him. With his encouragement, she placed herself directly over him. She could feel the shift in his focus. He looked straight between her legs.

"You have the most beautiful pink pussy … so well proportioned," he said, running his hands up her legs.

Lucius began to kiss and place small bites up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, soothing each bite with his tongue.

Hermione sighed in pleasure when he began to trace circles around her clit with the tip of his tongue. She was still sensitive from their previous romp and her bud ached under his ministrations. Unabashedly, she moaned as he swirled his tongue around her entrance and dipped it deep inside. Her inner walls clenched hungrily around it. Soon his tongue was replaced by two fingers, delving deeper. As his digits worked their way in and out of her, he sucked on her clit, stopping occasionally to reverently place kissed over and below it. Oh, he know just how well to work her dark pink nub, contrasting suction with light flicks. Above him, Hermione was already trembling uncontrollably. When his fingers found that special spot inside her, she could barely cry out as she came. He gave her one last firm lick before loosening his hold on her and letting her fall over to her side. Rolling on top of her, Lucius made quite a show of sucking and licking the two fingers that had given her so much pleasure.

"You see, my dear, real wizards love licking pussy. If they don't, that's their problem, not yours."

She grinned at him, before pulling him down for the longest kiss of her life.

Towards the end of July, Lucius had to go away to Lisbon for a week, and she busied herself with work. It was dull without him, but she enjoyed receiving his daily letters. He was as charming and witty on paper as he was in person.

One day as Hermione stepped out of the shower, a doorbell echoed around her flat. Haphazardly throwing on her clothes, she raced to answer it. To Hermione's surprise, Ron was standing outside the door.

"Hi!" she greeted him, ushering him in. "Are you here to see Ginny? She's not home, but you're welcome to wait for her."

He awkwardly walked in and looked around. "Ah, thanks. I'll wait. I'm actually here to invite you and her to Harry's surprise birthday party. I'm having my first photography exhibit on the thirtieth at nine, and at the stroke of midnight I thought we'd roll out the cake and turn it into a party for him." He handed her an invitation card with venue information.

"Wow. That's a really nice idea," she said. "And congratulations on the exhibit. I know how much you enjoyed photography as a hobby. Here, sit down. Would you like something to eat? Or drink?"

"No, I'm fine. And thanks." He sat down on the couch, rubbing his palms nervously on his legs. "So you'll come?"

Thirtieth … damn. That was the day Lucius was coming back from Lisbon. Why did Harry's party had to be at the stroke of midnight? Why couldn't it be the night on the thirty-first like always?

Right, surprise part.

"I'd really like to. It sounds like a big night for you and Harry, but … my boyfriend is coming back from Portugal that day. I don't really know what our plans are but we sort of agreed to get together then."

"Well, I'd really like you to come. You don't have to stay the whole time. You can come right before midnight, so you won't have to cancel your plans," he suggested, looking wide-eyed and hopeful at her.

"Oh, well, I guess I can do that."

"So, you're seeing someone? Is it serious?"

She nodded. "Yes, it's pretty serious. Ginny actually set me up on a blind date with him last month. I thought it would be a one-time thing, but it became more…"

Ron's face was a strange mix of surprise and hurt. "You ever think about us? What it would be like if we were still together?"

"Ron, don't." She sighed in exasperation. She didn't want to answer that question for simple fact that the answer would be too cruel for his ears; Hermione never thought about that. Perhaps she did in those first few months after their break-up. Now it's been two years and, even if she wasn't with Lucius, she never felt those pangs of nostalgia.

"I did at first, but now… it's been such a long time, Ron. We've both moved on," she said.

"So, who is he? The bloke you're with, I mean. Do I know him?"

"You've definitely heard of him."

He cocked his head. "It's not Malfoy, is it? I saw photo of you sitting in front row with him at Ginny's show."

"No, it's not Draco." She nervously chewed on her lip, wishing he'd stop with his questions.

"So who? You can bring him to the show, if you want. I'm just curious."

Her palms began to sweat, but if she showed up with Lucius to the show, Ron would know anyway. It would be best to prepare him now to avoid any unpleasantries that a public reveal might present.

She gulped. "It's actually … it's …um… it's Lucius Malfoy." Her stomach nearly dropped to the floor as she heard herself say it aloud for the first time.

Ron froze. He blanched, then flushed tomato-red. "You're serious?"

Hermione weakly shook her head and looked away, silently praying for Ginny to march through the door and end this conversation.

"And Ginny set you up? What the hell was she thinking?" he asked.

Not sure if it was a rhetorical question or not, she still replied, "She didn't know it was him. It was really her and Draco that set us up. Ginny didn't know who his match was, and Draco didn't know she picked me. It's not a big deal. It worked out rather well actually. For all of us."

Ron shook his head. "Hermione, he's dangerous. I know Ginny's been chummy with Junior, but Lucius Malfoy is not a harmless, pathetic git like his son. That man is bad news!"

"Whoa! Watch it with the insults, Ron," she warned him, holding up her hand. "I know you don't like him, and I can understand that. Until my date with him, I really didn't think much of him either. But it's different, okay? I like him; he makes me happy."

Ron looked perplexed. "How is that even possible? You're the most famous Muggle-born witch, do you need to be reminded what he thinks of that? How do you know he's not after something? How do you know he doesn't go around behind your back calling you a Mudblood? How can you even be with somebody who thinks like that?"

"Enough, okay?" she said quietly. "If he was so repulsed by me, we wouldn't be together."

"Oh, come on! Don't be so naive. Hermione, I know you probably won't believe me, but I still love you—"

Mercifully, at this moment, Ginny breezed through the doorway. "Ron!" she shouted. "Aren't you a sly one? You never told me you were stopping by today. What's going on?"

Hermione stood up. "I have a lot of work to get done. I'll let you two catch up." She walked out of the room with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She wished it was one event she could skip, but she didn't want to hurt Harry by missing out on his party.

She was still conflicted on this topic when the big day arrived. After indulging in pasteis de Belem he brought back for her, she and Lucius predictably tumbled into bed together, happy to be reunited once more. Perceptive as ever, he picked up on her uneasiness as they still bathed in the afterglow on his bed. He listened attentively as Hermione laid out her dilemma bare before him.

"But we don't have to go together," Hermione concluded. "I have no idea what to tell my friends if they ask about us. I don't want lie, but … if we arrive and leave together, it'll be obvious and I'll look childish denying. Yet once something like this is out, there's no way to go back to that same level of privacy. It'll be out there for the public consumption." She nestled deeper into his chest.

Lucius folded his arms around her and laid a chaste kiss on her cheek. "You can tell them the truth, if you like."

Her eyes widened. She was shocked. "But that would mean, it's out there."

He nodded. "Obviously, I'd prefer that you not broadcast my sexual proclivities, but I'd also never force you to lie to your friends for me. It's a stormy petrel for abuse. I'll have none of it."

"You're really okay with us making a couple debut of sorts? Because I don't know who'll be at the exhibit and the party. I can't guarantee that it won't cause a media blitz the next day. Ginny has kept it quiet, obviously. I'm sure Harry would too. But everyone else? I doubt it."

Lucius shifted a little and leveled his gaze. "I don't mind. You can tell anyone you want. Or keep it our secret. Whatever you decide, I don't want you to feel as though you have to choose between me and your friends. They'll have to see us together sooner or later."

Hermione blushed Hester-red and hid her face against his shoulder, trying hard again not to replay Ron's earlier reaction. How would he be in person?

"Ron didn't take it well when I told him about us," she confessed.

Lucius's eyes flashed, but he stayed silent. She wondered what he was thinking, wishing she could read him as well as he read her.

He set his hand on her thigh. "Did he do something while I was away?"

How does he do that? Hermione bit her lip, and after trying half a moment to resist, told him the truth, "When he invited me, he told me he still loved me."

He squeezed the flesh of her thigh. "Of course he loves you. He knows it was a mistake of his life to let you go. Memories of you keep him awake at night. His desires drive him to near madness. He even fantasizes about you as he fucks other witches. He's contacted you when it was convenient for him and until he sees you with someone else, he'll think he stands a chance of winning you back." Lucius's hold tightened. "We'll be merciful. He'll see us together, and it will kill whatever false hopes he harbors."

Hermione noted a wicked grin flicker across his lips. "What are you up to?" she asked in suspicion.

"I'm not up to anything. Just let him see you. Let him see you with me. Happy, satisfied, safe. If any part of you north of your navel really matters to him," he caressed her leg, "he'll move on. He'll let you go."

"Is that what you would do if you were in his place?"

"Hardly. I'd kill to keep you. But I'm giving the boy the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's half as mad for you as I am — and tonight, he's going to realize it."

She gave him a wry smile. "Doesn't sound very merciful to me. It sounds sadistic."

"It's both," he said, moving his hand back up to her waist. "Trust me, I would know."

She didn't ask him to elaborate. She just nodded. Who in heaven or hell could have spurned him? The mere thought of it, the mystery, made her throat tighten and her hair stand on end.

"Just as long as you're aware this will make us public."

He nodded darkly. "I'm very much aware. You mentioned it several times."

"I made it clear to him that I don't return his feelings, but I don't want to rub his face in our happiness. I don't need some kind of validation that I'm doing better than him on the romance front," Hermione said.

"I promise to be good." His words were sober, and his smile edged with a sneer. "So long as he respects you, Hermione, I'll be as gentle as a lamb."

A wolf in sheep's clothing.

Lucius flashed her a smirk, drawing her toward him as they walked through the door at Chelsea loft, where Ron's exhibit and Harry's surprise party were held. Immediately, the music struck her like an ocean's wave. The lights were low, which seemed an odd choice for a venue whose purpose was to show off photographs. The room was filled with people she didn't recognize. Hermione squinted, expecting Ron or Harry to pop up any minute before them. She counted to ten and saw no sign of either one. Breathing out in relief, she willed herself to relax as Lucius placed his hand in the small of her back.

They walked around looking at the photographs on the walls. One whole section was post-battle Hogwarts. At the end of the exhibit were photos of Weasley family members, then one particular photo nearly caused Hermione's jaw drop to the floor. She spun to look at Lucius, hoping to distract him, but it was too late. He'd seen it too. His face grew strict and impassive.

"It's you," he said.

Hermione blushed as red as molten metal. It was a photograph of her in black stockings, reclining on the bed with a large, feathered, red lady's fan covering her chest. Ron had taken it the night of a Masquerade Ball they attended three years ago. Although her mask was on, there was no disguising the fact that it was Hermione Granger, posing provocatively on a rumpled bed.

"Did you give him permission to use this?"

She buried her burning face in his shoulder. "No. He never mentioned it when he dropped off the invitations. It was a private moment and a private photo. I never meant for anyone to see it."

Lucius snaked his arm tighter around her, his touch simultaneously succoring and sinister. "Let me have a closer look."

"No, don't. Can you just take me home? I'm suddenly not in a surprise party mood. I'll just stop by Harry's tomorrow."

It was beyond mortifying and Lucius's silent perusal of that damning photo intensified her embarrassment even more. His ruminant eyes appraised it as he tilted his head.

Then he spoke, "Magnificent, isn't it? He captured your seductive playfulness perfectly here. And the play of light and shadows is exquisite. It will be a pity to destroy it."

Destroy it? She felt blood drain from her face. "You wouldn't," she managed. Hermione didn't want this photo here anymore than he did, but they had no right to destroy Ron's personal property. She'd just insist that he take it down.

"I must," Lucius said darkly. "I'll compensate him, of course. But it will not be displayed for all the world to see. After all, you forbade it."

"Yes, but … it's his photograph. Technically, he didn't need my permission to display it, as I willingly posed for it and allowed him to keep it."

He shook his head. "He owes you an apology."

"Yes, and he probably will once he finds out how unhappy I am that he did this."

"And then? What do expect me to do, Hermione? Let him parade you around like Lady Godiva? Let him sell it? Let him masturbate to you whenever a fancy strikes him? I won't have it."

"Please…" Hermione set her hands on his chest, grasping his robes, feeling the rough beat of his heart. "Just let it be."

His brow and mouth were still taut as a towline, but gradually, she watched his eyes begin to soften.

He cleared his throat. "Is that really what you want from me?"

She nodded warily. "Who cares what he does with this picture? It's not me. You have the real me."

He lowered his gaze upon her. His words were warm and dark, "How you paralyze me." Then Lucius passionately kissed her.

When they pulled away from each other, Hermione saw Ron, staring at them in horror before he crushed the champagne glass in his hand.