After lunch, Hermione excused herself to send letters to Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Kelsey about Lucius's idea for the ball's theme. If all goes well, they'll all sign off on the theme and proceed further with the planning. By the time she returned from the owlery, Hermione heard Lucius and Mrs. Swancombe in deep discussion … about her.
"… must do something about it. This whole Spanish divorce is starting to look worse and worse. In my day things were done much differently," the witch grumbled. "Married people didn't live apart in such scandalous manner! You grandfather never would have allowed it under his roof!"
"How lucky for him that he's dead and buried," Lucius drawled. "Grandmaman, normally I value your advise but this is between me and my wife. I've wronged her and I am trying to make reparations for it."
"By letting her leave your home? It's been months! Since when are you afraid to fight for what you want?"
Lucius wasn't falling for her goading. "I wasn't aware there was a time limit on winning back her trust. Remember the saying about attracting more bees with honey rather than with vinegar? It's the same difference between force and seduction. I want her to come back to the Manor willingly like she did before Enchanted Peaks. I want her to come back because she wants to, not because of any threats that I may use legal action to press my marital rights over her."
"You are a vain wizard, Lucius. It will be your downfall. The issue at stake is your familial obligation to produce more heirs before Draco gets lost on another mountain; it's not about how well you can seduce your wife into submission."
"This discussion is giving me a migraine," he complained.
Mrs. Swancombe chuckled. "Oh, do it your way, if it flatters your vanity. It's not my place to stop you, only to counsel. Just do whatever needs to be done for you both to sign the marriage contract."
Hermione decided to make her presence known and stepped into the room, effectively ending their conversation. "Did I hear you say that you have another migraine?" she asked Lucius.
"I told you, it comes and goes. I just…"
"Can't stand light, loud noise, or smell of food. I know," she finished for him. "Come, we should get you to bed before it gets worse."
They Floo-ed to the Manor and Hermione followed him to his suite. As he lay down, she waved her wand at the windows, closing the curtains to block out the light that irritated her husband in his malady.
"I'd rather you not see me in my weakness," he muttered.
"It's not a weakness, Lucius," she gently contradicted him. She removed his shoes, then unbuttoned his waistcoat and loosened his cravat. "We don't have absolute control over our health; otherwise, no one would ever get ill."
She removed his cufflinks and set them on his bedside table before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
"May I try something?" Hermione asked him.
"What do you mean? If it's another massage, I have to warn you that I don't relish the thought of becoming aroused and left to finish in solitude."
She rolled her eyes at him. "No, not that. I've been reading a lot about your condition and there are quite a few remedies."
"No potion has ever been remotely successful in helping and, if there is one, I do not want to become dependent on it."
"It's not any potion," she said, shaking her head.
"Oh, fine. I'm at your mercy."
"Okay, I lied a little. It does involve some massaging but only of your head," she said, digging around in her purse for supplies.
"I suppose if I remain clothed, it is all right," he said, placing one hand on her lap.
Hermione called for a house-elf and asked him to bring her a basin of hot water. When he arrived with supplies she requested, she thanked the elf and dissolved a few drops of lavender oil in the water before soaking a sponge in it. After squeezing out excess water, she dabbed his face with it.
"I know it's hot, but I want you to breathe in the scent," she instructed him, carefully patting his face.
"It smells like that massage oil," he commented.
"Stop thinking," Hermione admonished him.
"I'm not thinking, I just recognize it. It's your fault that I'm associating this scent with your erotic massaging."
She snorted. "That wasn't an erotic massage. It was just a massage. I think you're confusing it with Nuru or something."
He let out a whistle. "Look who's the expert on the subject."
"Look who needs to be quiet. You're supposed to be relaxing." Hermione set the sponge aside and reached for a jar of feverfew ointment. She carefully applied it to his temples and massaged it into his skin with the tips of her fingers. Dabbing more ointment on her hands, she massaged beneath his brows, pressing harder on the points she read about. Supposedly, if done correctly, it would alleviate any headache.
After several minutes of this, Lucius sighed in relief.
"Better?" she asked him.
"It's gone," he remarked in amazement.
"Good." Hermione rose off the bed to clean up and put away her supplies. "I should get going."
He rose up on his elbows. "You can stay here. You don't have to leave."
Her heart skipped a beat, but she declined, "I'm grateful for the offer, but I can't."
He lay back down.
"Thank you, again. For your idea," she said.
"No. Thank you."
She didn't know what to say. Slightly swaying on her feet, she bent over him. His pupils dilated as he anticipated her next move silently. Hermione lightly brushed her lips over his cheek, lingering for a moment before puling away. She really wanted to kiss him and the temptation was ten times stronger now than it was in his grandmother's library. Why was that? Was it because this room oozed of sexual memories? He kissed her here for the first time and showed her what a real orgasm felt like.
Sighing in disappointment, she moved away from him and quickly left the room before she lost the will to do so. Maybe she was lying to herself. Maybe she was ready for the next level. But she needed to hear an apology from him first.
The next day, she returned to her new job at the National Library of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Diagon Alley, better known as the Old Dominion. While her case against W.E.T.M.C. was pending, she was lucky enough to find this position. At least she wasn't financially dependent on the outcome of her case or on Lucius. This Monday her shift was from opening until three, which gave her plenty of time to meet up with Kelsey by five. Last night, during a prolonged owl exchange, everyone enthusiastically approved of Fire and Ice theme and the rest of the tasks were distributed. Harry and Ron were in charge of selling tickets and hiring a band; Ginny was in charge of publicity; Kelsey volunteered to take care of catering and menu, which left Hermione with picking venue and decorating, mostly due to the fact that no one else wanted those assignments.
After she finished up her shift, Hermione visited Park Lane and inquired at Grosvenor House Hotel about booking the Great Room for the ball. Fortunately, it was available for the night of May first and she quickly reserved it. Feeling incredibly accomplished, she hurried to inform the rest of the planning committee and then rushed off to meet with Kelsey by the austere steps of Old Dominion.
To her surprise, the witch was already there, waiting for her.
"I just shivered!" Kelsey dramatically announced, cuddling more into her coat. "Someone must be touching my ball gown. We have to go buy it before someone beats me to it!"
Hermione was perplexed. "We? Why we? You wrote to me last night that we had to meet up today to do something urgent for the ball."
"It is. We have to find our gowns. We don't have much time, you know. Once the publicity blitz will start, everyone will be out shopping." Kelsey weaved through throng of people, pulling Hermione behind her.
"I don't want a new dress if I'm going by myself," Hermione said.
"You can still look and try things on. You won't be going to formal events alone forever, you know."
"But what's the point now? I am going to Fire and Ice all alone," she argued with the blonde.
"Hey! Who says you need a new dress only if you're going with a date? I'm going alone and I'm going to look fabulous. Besides, how do you know your lush hubby won't ask you?" She wagged her eyebrows at Hermione.
"I doubt it. He was helpful enough to come up with a theme and all, but I don't think he'll ask me. But it's for the best. I'm completely losing control around him. Last night I almost kissed him."
"Almost kissed your husband? You big hussy!" Kelsey sarcastically exclaimed, her bright blue eyes dancing with amusement.
Hermione smirked at her. "I'm a little conflicted on whether or not I'm ready for things to become more romantic."
"How so?"
They walked through the doors of Twilfitt and Tattings and Hermione tried to explain as she followed her friend around the dress racks, "Now that I know him better, I am more attracted to him than I ever was before."
"But?" Kelsey prompted.
"But I'm afraid to fall for him and have my heart stomped on all over again. What if … you know…"
"What if he'll hurt you again?" Kelsey guessed, examining a sparkling aquamarine gown. "You can't worry about 'what ifs'. I mean, what if we have a horrible accident tomorrow? Should we just huddle in our homes from now on and avoid the world for fear something awful might happen if we step out the front door?"
"Well, no. That's just silly."
"Then there's your answer. Being hurt is part of the package of falling in love. We all take those chances."
Hermione knew she would have to voice what's really bothered her about her current situation. "I know, but … I don't think he understands that he did anything wrong. That's what keeps nagging me. It's not like we've avoided the subject. We have discussed it since Enchanted Peaks, but in none of those conversations did he ever apologize. According to Shattered Vows, a sincere apology is an important step. It shows that your partner is remorseful and is taking responsibility for what happened. Blaming other people — like his ex-wife, in our case — is not helpful. It's the only thing that's holding me back from becoming more involved with him right now. He's read the same book, so he knows it's one of the steps; therefore, it can only mean that he still beliefs he was a 'victim of unfortunate circumstances'. I'm using his exact phrase here. You remember what Ron and Harry said at our last meeting about it? In a nutshell, that's how Lucius views the situation."
Kelsey shrugged. "So wait until he sees your point, or the book's point. If he just wanted to check off all the steps, he would have offered an apology by now, even an insincere one. If he called himself a 'victim of unfortunate circumstances' last time you talked about this, it means he doesn't get it yet. All you can do is hold off on the dating stuff until he'll get it through his head. Thing is, he either has to come to this realization on his own time, or you have to come out and say that you'd like to move to the next level, but that's what's stopping you."
"I don't want him to feel like I'm demanding an apology," Hermione explained. "I want him to mean it. It's not about hearing the words, it's about hearing him admit he was responsible and that he regrets it. And that it'll never, ever happen again while we're married."
"Then, like I said, you'll have to wait until he comes to that conclusion on his own." Kelsey playfully held up a fuchsia organza gown in front of Hermione's body.
"No way," Hermione said, glaring at her. "But you're right about Lucius. He has to realize it himself. That's what Shattered Vows says too."
Kelsey hung the dress back on the rack. "Forget that darn book for a second. Focus on gowns. Ooh, what about this?"
"I told you, I'm not…" Hermione lost her train of thought as she scanned the gown her former colleague dangled before her. It was a flowing sea-foam green chiffon with two slits up the sides.
"That's gorgeous," she softly said. She held up the dress to her body and looked into the nearby mirror. It felt so deliciously light to her touch and the color was very flattering against her skin. As Hermione stroked the fabric, she wondered what it would feel like to have Lucius touch her through it. Out of curiosity, she glanced at the price tag and shook her head. She didn't even know it was legal to charge that much for a dress.
"Stop looking at prices and just try it on," Kelsey encouraged her, her own arms laden with gowns of almost every color.
No harm in trying it on, Hermione reasoned and followed her into the fitting room.
When she emerged, Kelsey was already standing in front of the mirror in a gorgeous floor-length ball gown that wildly glittered with tiny sequins. The black provided a beautiful contrast against the witch's golden hair and fair skin.
"Wow! You look amazing!" she complimented her.
"You think? It definitely has possibilities, but I have too many little black dresses already."
Hermione gasped out as she gawked at herself in the mirror next to Kelsey. "It's so sheer. I feel so naked!"
"You look hot! Look at those legs you'll be flashing! The bodice isn't sheer, just the skirt."
Turning in full circle, Hermione scrutinized herself from every angle. "It's too long on me. It would look better on someone more statuesque, like you."
"They can always alter it."
Then Hermione heard a familiar, shrewd voice berating a sales clerk. She turned to confirm her initial impressions.
"Mrs. Swancombe!" she called out in surprise, stepping away from the mirror to greet the elderly witch.
"Oh, don't you look lovely, dear," Odette Swancombe said, eyeing Hermione's gown.
"Thank you. I'm just trying it on. My friend Kelsey is also here…"
Her heart skipped a beat when she caught the sight of Lucius with Draco on the other side of the shop.
Mrs. Swancombe followed her gaze and, to her horror, called out to them, "Lucius, look who is here!"
His gaze lifted up to them and he froze when he saw Hermione. She blushed as he continued to stare at her. The next thing she knew, he crossed to them and was standing before her.
"Well? Doesn't you wife look lovely?"
He looked at Hermione as though he's never seen a woman before. "Lovely? Yes … stunning. Botticelli's Birth of Venus."
Her blush deepened at his flustered tone she never heard before. "Um … thank you. I'm not sure it's my style." Her own voice was shaking.
He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Well, it's very … becoming, nonetheless," he said.
"Hermione! Help needed over here! I can't figure out this snappy thing in the back!" Kelsey called out from the fitting room in panic.
Excusing herself, Hermione ran off to her friend's aid, shaking from her unexpected interaction with Lucius.
In an attempt to distract herself from what happened at Twilfitt and Tattings, Hermione went back to the library. She ended up in corner table on the third floor, leafing through the new Numerology volume that she shelved this morning.
A shadow fell over her and someone set down a book on the table. She stared at the title Organometallic Chemistry of Transition Metals. Hermione looked up to see Lucius standing over her.
What was he doing here? Was he looking for her?
"Is this seat taken?" he asked, gesturing the seat across from hers.
"No." She indicated to the other unoccupied tables in the area. "And neither are any of those."
"The light is better here."
Hermione lifted her propped feet off the chair across from her and he sat down.
Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest with happiness that he sought her out. For a several seconds, she stared at him, then lowered her head back to her book.
"Here," he said, patting his lap under the table.
She looked back up at him. "What?"
"Put your feet back."
"No," Hermione said in breathless whisper.
"It's how you like to read, don't you? No reason for you not to be comfortable."
"I'm fine," she murmured.
She was becoming uncomfortably warm again. Her head felt heavy and light at the same time. Her body kept tingling. Returning to her book, Hermione read – or rather she pretended to read. He was turning the pages more often than she was. It didn't matter though. She rather enjoyed watching him. Hermione loved the way his eyes moved across the page. She imagined them moving over her body like that. Lucius noticed her watching him and raised his head to look at her inquiringly, smirking slightly at the way she was studying him.
Hermione swallowed and glanced away from him. "I just thought that it's odd how you remained single until our wedding," she said, attempting to cover up her blatant observation of him.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Why is it odd?"
She cleared her throat. "You weren't seeing anyone. There was no one affected by our spontaneous wedding."
"It's not odd. I simply didn't find anyone suitable enough to make me want to remarry. You didn't seem terribly interested in the position."
Tension-filled silence descended between them.
"We were meeting so briefly and not always under the most amicable of circumstances," he admitted. "I was always curious about you. I desired you. Sometimes during all those conferential debates, I'd picture what you'd look like naked. I'd imagine what you'd feel like, what you'd taste like…"
"You shouldn't say such things to me," Hermione admonished him.
"Why? We're married. And now I know all those things about you." He paused and gave her a salacious once over. "Almost all."
She stood up so rapidly she became dizzy. "I need to put this back," she said, grabbing her book and bolting away from him.
She found a dark aisle and leaned against a bookshelf. She couldn't allow herself to rush into the physical stuff again. Although she yearned to feel his hands and mouth on her, she was still apprehensive about the rest of it. Hermione wasn't eager to feel him become rough again. Even though she did enjoy one of the positions they've tried that night, the rest of it wasn't really to her liking. What if it was always like that?
Lucius came out of the shadows to stand before her.
"What's wrong?" he asked her, sweeping her hair out of her face.
"Nothing," she responded, turning away from him.
He molded his body to hers, protectively cushioning her against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist.
"It's not nothing," he said.
"Then it's everything. Everything is wrong and nothing is right."
He placed his mouth directly against her ear. "If it's in my power, I'll make it right. Tell me what you want and I'll do it."
Hermione shuddered against him with desire. "I can't," she chocked out. "You should let me go."
"No. I don't want to let you go. Come home with me. Stay the night."
She was about to decline his offer, but gasped when his hands slid to her bottom and gave her a firm squeeze before running back up to cup her breasts. His lips found her neck and she urgently pressed herself against him. Lucius pulled away from her and turned her in his arms to face him. The smoldering glow of his eyes caused her to sway. Savage desire sparked between them. He whispered her name before he lowered his mouth to hers, tenderly kissing her. Giving in to the irresistible urge, she kissed him back, rubbing her chest against his.
His hands combed over her sweater, covering her breasts with his palms. "I want to see you naked again. You are so beautiful." He kissed her again. "I want to be deep inside you. Surrounded by you."
He moved his pelvis against her provocatively and Hermione broke away from him. Shaking and breathless, she told him, "I think we should go."
She went back to their table, slipped into her coat and gathered her things.
"If I was too forward—"
"You weren't. I just …" She rubbed her forehead wearily. "I need more time."
"Hermione, I feel like I'm doing something wrong. You never want to be alone with me. Are you afraid of me?" he demanded in alarm.
"No, of course not," she responded to his words with a negative shake of her head. "But you've read the book I gave you."
"Yes. And?" he prompted, frowning.
"If I have to tell you, then you still don't get it."
Maintaining her rigid composure, she wished him a good evening and walked away, feeling completely miserable. Her emotions were so conflicting, and she didn't know how to deal with any of them.
Sigh… falling for Lucius is never easy.
