A/N Hi Everyone, thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, favourites and follows. I've been desperate to get this chapter up before I got another review because my counter is currently sitting at 499. I've decided that I'd like to do what the 'proper' writers do and write a one-shot for my 500th reviewer so whoever gets in first this chapter (as long as it's not abusive) can give me a scenario which I will have to write. I'm open to pretty much anything, but I don't really know what goes where with graphic slash…. I guess I could try and write it but it would probably be rubbish and factually inaccurate.
I feel there's been quite a lot of build up to this chapter and I'm not sure if I've done it justice. I hope you enjoy it.
Lucius didn't think he had ever felt this nervous before going out for dinner. In fact, looking back, if one discounted his interviews with Voldemort, during which he had felt more terrified than anything else, he didn't think he had ever felt this nervous, full stop. As he tried on and rejected several sets of dress robes he did his utmost to convince himself that the evening would go without a hitch.
He had certainly left Hermione satisfied after their night together. The poor witch had barely been able to walk on Sunday morning. Uncertainty clenched in his gut. Had he been too rough with her? She had seemed appreciative at the time, a strange mixture of submissive and responsive which had fired his blood and left him a little delirious with lust. Lucius had enjoyed a lot of sex in his life. He had indulged in a varied diet ranging from vanilla to downright kinky; he didn't particularly prefer one flavour over another. What he did find arousing was Hermione's obvious willingness to explore her sexuality with him. It flattered his, already large, ego that she would ask him to engage in activities she had never tried before. He only hoped that he would have further opportunity to demonstrate his wide range of skills.
Sweet Merlin, what was wrong with him? He pressed his fingers to his brow, wondering if he had a fever. He had never agonised over a woman like this before, never performed a detailed autopsy of his sexual performance, never worried so much about what he was going to wear. Well, that wasn't strictly true; he often worried about his clothes, but that was because he liked to look good. Not because he cared what anybody else thought.
He cared very much about what Miss Granger thought. There was something about the defensive jut of her small chin and the subtle press of her full lips when she was displeased, that made him deeply uncomfortable. He would yield to her on almost anything; accede to any of her wishes if she would only stop looking at him with disappointment in those big brown eyes. He shuddered as he fastened the buttons on his shirt. He could only pray that Hermione never found out how vulnerable he was to her displeasure. She could dissect him emotionally if she so chose; pull him apart as easily as Severus eviscerated Scarab beetles before making a wit sharpening potion. He hated this feeling of exposure, and yet, he craved her company.
She must never know. He told himself as he appraised his appearance for the last time. He was as immaculate as always, his hair, his robes, even his shoes; he was perfectly groomed and masked, in his own composure. He had been celibate for over four years, he acknowledged. Of course, the first woman to break that drought was going to end up affecting him a little more than his previous dalliances. Whilst his objective to seduce Miss Granger had been fully satisfied, he was not quite ready to let her go. There was no harm in continuing the affair a little longer, as long as Hermione never found out about his deepening feelings. He winced as he reminded himself that a rather large obstacle, entirely of his own making, both literally and figuratively, now stood between himself and the woman he desired.
How he wished that he had chosen a more conventional method of pursuit. It might have taken a bit longer, but the girl would have capitulated eventually, they always did. Now, he had manoeuvred himself into an awkward corner, where he was actually going to be forced to fight his own son for her affections. He smoothed a hand through his flawless hair. Draco had everything, the Malfoy looks and fortune of course, but also an easiness of temperament and a lightness of spirit that he, Lucius, was not in possession of. Furthermore, Draco was not nearly as tarnished by the events of the war as Lucius was. Given the choice, would Hermione really choose him over his son? His head start, promising as it had initially appeared, was looking shakier by the minute.
Perhaps, he thought, as he apparated to The Three Broomsticks, he would be better focussing his attentions on Draco rather than Miss Granger. The boy was already enamoured by Miss Greengrass, surely it would be easier to steer him in that direction, taking advantage of Draco's, still intrinsic, need to please his father, rather than trying to seduce Miss Granger out from underneath his nose. He smiled a little to himself as he tapped on the brick wall behind Diagon Alley. Yes! That would work. All he had to do was make it obvious to Draco how unsuitable a wife Hermione would be. He was a master manipulator, and this should be a piece of cake.
Draco and Miss Greengrass were already seated when he arrived at Amicus Apple. His son shook his hand and introduced him to Astoria, who he had not seen for some time. She was beautiful, in an understated way; her dark hair curled over her shoulders and she wore a green satin dress which was draped in such a manner as to be both demure and alluring. She reminded him of Narcissa in some ways; a perfect paragon of pureblood breeding and manners. Yet, there was something more to her, something in the way she interacted with Draco, that spoke of a core of steel beneath her polished façade, an unwillingness to accede to societies dictates if they did not suit her. In short, she reminded him equally of Hermione, he could not imagine her taking the loss of Draco lying down.
As if summoned by his thoughts, he felt a ripple of interest spread through the room. Heads were surreptitiously turned toward the entrance and he caught Draco rolling his eyes and heard him mutter,
"Every time, you think they'd leave the poor girl alone, for once."
Along with just about everybody else in the restaurant, Lucius turned to observe Hermione remove her cloak and hand it to the maître de. He swallowed convulsively as his eyes fell on her bare shoulders and the exposed length of her leg. Her black cocktail dress was understated, but he could not seem to tear his eyes from her form, imaging as he was, the silky skin that lay underneath.
"Sorry about that." Hermione was delivered to the table by an awestruck looking waiter and wrapped her arms around Draco in a warm hug. Lucius shuddered. The other diners muttered amongst themselves at the sight of one of the golden trio sitting down to eat with not one, but two Malfoy's.
"No problem, Hermione, I had forgotten what a stir you cause, and you only made it worse by wearing that ravishing dress." Draco gave her a lascivious look and Lucius clenched his teeth so hard he was surprised his jaw didn't crack.
"Miss Granger," he drawled, desperately trying to conceal his jealousy, "it seems you have quite the fan club." He looked disdainfully around the room, hoping Draco picked up on his disapproval. A Malfoy should never make a scene.
She turned to him, a hint of hurt in her honey brown eyes, and he seized her hand and raised it to his lips, his open mouthed kiss the closest he would allow himself to an apology. Their eyes met, and he felt the tremble that ran through her fingers as their bodies connected. He allowed himself a smug smile and pulled out her chair; she was still his, for now.
Hermione sat next to him and opposite Draco. Lucius did not like the way his son's eyes travelled over her exposed décolletage as she arranged herself in her chair, smiling a greeting in Astoria's direction and tucking her beaded handbag under her seat. Astoria might have the edge when it came to classic beauty, but there was something enchanting about Hermione, a vivaciousness that captivated him, and surely could not fail to captivate his son too. He reminded himself of his plan; he needed to draw Draco's attention away from Hermione.
"Miss Greengrass, perhaps you might advise us on the wine list, I believe your family has several very successful vineyards in Tuscany, do they not?" He gave her his warmest smile, pleased when she blushed a little. At least she was not immune to his charm.
"I'm no expert, Mr Malfoy, but I'll do my best." She bent diligently over her menu. Lucius looked up just in time to catch Draco spearing Hermione with a thousand galleon smile.
"I'm sure you must have some opinions too, Hermione?" His son smiled warmly at the girl. "After all, a chef as talented as you must have a well-developed palate."
"I doubt there are any Muggle beverages on the menu here, Draco." He cut in before Hermione could answer. "Perhaps it's best to leave the choices to those who are a little better versed with wizarding society."
There! He couldn't have made it clearer to the boy, Miss Granger was unsuitable. Hopefully now Draco would back off and leave her to him. He could have sworn he felt the temperature to his left drop a few degrees. His barb had clearly struck home with Hermione. He gave a mental shrug. It couldn't be helped; he would make it up to her later.
They perused their menus in silence for a few moments, Astoria making a few inane but politic comments regarding the diversity of the menu. Lucius placed the leather bound document on the table and fixed Hermione with a supercilious glare. "Would you like me to order for you, Miss Granger? I believe the menu is rather complex." (In comparison to your coarse Muggle upbringing) He hoped the subtext was clear to Draco who was staring at him aghast.
"No thank you, Mr Malfoy." She placed her own menu on the table. "Whilst I do generally prefer the simpler things in life-" he was sure there was an insult in there somewhere "- On this occasion, I feel more than capable of handling a little complexity." She smiled warmly at Draco and Lucius felt her leg shift against his, was she playing footsie under the table with his son?
The white hot rage which coursed through his system was so strong that he almost hexed the waiter just for smiling too effusively at Hermione. They all gave their orders and, after the wine had been poured, Lucius took a grateful slug.
"Hermione, won't you tell us how your research is coming along?" There was an edge of desperation to Astoria's tone. She was clearly aware of the uncomfortable dynamic between the trio, and was doing her best to smooth things over. Lucius was again reminded favourably of his ex-wife; Astoria really would make a good partner for Draco.
"It's going well, thank you Astoria." Hermione smiled politely and Lucius suddenly wished they were alone, so he could probe more deeply and ask the several questions he had thought of since their last chat. Her work fascinated him, almost as much as her agile mind and delectable bpdy. "In fact-"Hermione's words interrupted his reverie "-I'm considering a trip to Stockholm in order to further my research."
"Really, Hermione, I didn't know." Draco's voice was like syrup, Lucius would never have employed such an inappropriately seductive tone over dinner. "Perhaps I could come with you. I know the city well, there are all sorts of little nooks and crannies I'd like to show you."
Hermione blushed and opened her mouth to respond, but Lucius got in before she could speak. "Now, now Draco, I'm sure Miss Granger's trip will be filled with dry academic meetings and the perusal of dusty libraries, you would be intolerably bored, I'm sure." He said the last with such disgust that his own boredom was clearly conveyed. "I would imagine you would be much better taking Miss Greengrass, her appreciation of the cultural aspects of the city is likely to be far in excess of anything Miss Granger has to offer."
There was a brief silence as his three dining companions were dazzled by his rudeness. Draco had opened his mouth to respond when their starters were delivered.
Hermione had ordered scallops with a cauliflower puree. Lucius touched his fingertips to the handle of his cane and muttered an almost silent Confundus. Hermione shuddered and reached for the wrong fork.
"Really, Miss Granger, you are truly a shining example of Muggle manners are you not?" He leaned across her and plucked the correct piece of silverware from the selection at her side. "This is the correct implement, and please try not to eat off your knife; the clientele here are rather sensitive to poor etiquette."
She snatched the fork from him, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at the one she held. She looked back at him and frowned, clearly about to retaliate, when Astoria broke in, her voice a little desperate.
"What do you think of the weather we've been having? Surely this heat can't last."
"It's seemed a little chilly to me recently," Hermione snapped, spearing a scallop with unnecessary force.
The meal continued with excruciating slowness. Lucius continued to point out Hermione's deficiencies to Draco, although he didn't dare Counfound her again, the look she had given him last time had been far too shrewd. His barbs did not seem to be having the desired effect on his son though. If anything, Draco was throwing Hermione more sultry looks across the table and, whilst the curly haired witch didn't appear to be reciprocate his regard, she certainly wasn't rejecting it either. Miss Greengrass did her best to pour oil on troubled waters, apparently oblivious to the fact that her paramour was blatantly trying to seduce the woman opposite, and every time Lucius spoke Hermione's shoulders seemed to rise a little higher. He almost thought he had seen a crackle of static in her hair at one point.
They were halfway through their mains when Lucius delivered a particularly vicious riposte regarding the poor performance of Muggle born children during their first years at Hogwarts. Halfway through his diatribe, Hermione stood, pushing her chair back before either Draco or Lucius could stand.
"Excuse me; I need to visit the ladies." She strode away without waiting for any of them to respond. To Lucius' surprise, Astoria put down her own napkin and hurried after Hermione.
Hermione slammed the bathroom door and looked around covertly. Thankfully she was alone for the time being. She turned the cold tap on, splashing water against her cheeks. If they were wet already then she wouldn't have to acknowledge to herself that she was crying.
"Hateful, horrible, bloody man," she muttered, leaning her forehead against the mirror's blissfully cool surface.
She couldn't believe that she, Hermione Granger, war hero, had allowed herself to be brought to tears by Lucius Malfoy of all people. What an idiot she was. How on earth had she allowed herself to believe that he liked her, that they were friends?
"Stupid, bleeding heart Gryffindor," she muttered even more quietly. She supposed Lucius was just another one of her ridiculous crusades. She was so desperate to appreciate the good in everyone that sometimes she was blinded to the painful truth: some people really didn't have any good in them, to begin with.
Lucius' transformation from considerate lover to supercilious pureblood in the short space of three days was a clear indication of the blonde's perfidy. She didn't know if it was his desire to hide their relationship from Draco that was making him treat her so abominably, or perhaps his behaviour today was simply an indication of how he could be expected to treat her whenever they were in public together.
The toilet door banged again and Hermione straightened up, scrubbing at her eyes. Astoria stood just inside the room staring at her.
"I'm so sorry," the younger witch said, engulfing Hermione in a warm hug. "Mr Malfoy is being a pig."
Hermione could only nod in agreement as she hiccupped inelegantly against Astoria's shoulder.
Hermione didn't have a lot of female friends. She and Ginny were close, but there weren't really any other female shoulders she would consider crying on. Under normal circumstances, she might have felt uncomfortable, but Astoria's embrace was so kind, so warm, and so natural, that she felt herself relaxing into it and accepting the comfort the other girl offered.
"I thought you two were seeing each other," Astoria said hesitantly, once the worst of Hermione's tears had subsided.
"So did I." Hermione mopped at her face with a hand towel. "But he's made it more than clear this evening that he'd much rather being seeing you."
"Astoria looked momentarily stricken. "I'm so sorry-"
"You have nothing to apologise for," Hermione interrupted, blowing her nose vigorously. "He knows what I am and if I'm not good enough for him in public then it's his loss."
"Quite right." Astoria handed her another paper towel. "Do you want to leave? You and I could sneak out the back, Draco would understand."
"No." Hermione shook her head defiantly. "No, I'm going to have this out with him one way or another; this isn't an acceptable way to treat anybody. Although why I expected better from Lucius Malfoy I don't know."
Astoria shrugged. "Draco expected better from him too. He said he thought his father was smitten."
Hermione gave an inelegant snort. "I'm really not convinced Lucius is capable of that depth of emotion."
"Maybe you're right." Astoria toyed with the strap of her handbag. "Do you think Draco's the same?" She blurted out the question as if it had taken great courage to do so.
"No!" Hermione rebuttal was instantaneous and instinctive. "No, Draco's a wonderful person, who, despite his horrific upbringing at the hands of that megalomaniac outside, is more than capable of loving you."
"Thank you." Astoria clutched Hermione's hands in her own, her eyes bright. She glanced over her shoulder. "We'd better be getting back," she said ruefully.
Hermione nodded but gave a wail of horror when she caught sight of her tear stained face in the mirror.
"Now he'll know he made me cry."
"No he won't." Astoria brandished her wand and began to cast a number of cosmetic spells which Hermione had been too busy saving the world to ever learn.
Lucius and Draco regarded each other steadily over the table for several silent moments before Lucius looked away and signalled to the waiter for another bottle of wine. Being this consistently rude to a woman he only wished to take home and ravish was thirsty work.
"What exactly are you playing at, Father," Draco asked after both their glasses had been refilled. Lucius sipped his drink, avoiding his sons' eyes.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Why are you being so abominably rude to Hermione?"
Lucius feigned surprise. "I don't know what you mean."
"Really?" Draco's eyebrow disappeared into his hairline. "Correcting her table manners, criticising Muggleborns, not to mention flirting with my girlfriend; I feel as if I've accidentally used a time turner and ended up back in the 90's."
"I'm sorry if I may have appeared a little overbearing," he said with complete insincerity, "but I'm afraid I have realised what a terrible error I made in pushing you and Miss Granger together."
"You have?" Draco looked relieved.
Lucius nodded sagely. "I have, I realise now that she is grossly unsuited to be the mother of the next Malfoy heir. I must insist that you return your affections to Miss Greengrass, she is a perfect paragon of pureblood virtue." He pursed his lips piously.
Draco turned a strange shade of puce.
"You really are an arse sometimes, do you know that?"
Lucius was prevented from retorting, and he would have said something terribly clever, by the return of Miss Greengrass.
The dark haired witch gave Draco a hard look as she sat down and very subtly shook her head, Lucius might not have noticed it if he hadn't been studiously avoiding his son's eyes. He was still smarting a little over being called an arse.
"Has Miss Granger been waylaid signing autographs on her way back from the lavatory?" he asked snidely. The girl had been gone for far longer than was proper. He wanted to get this interminable meal over with so he could take her home and do unspeakable things to her.
"I'm right here, Mr Malfoy." Her tone, he noted, was remarkably chipper. "I did stop to speak to a few well-wishers. It is so rewarding to be lauded as a hero by society, isn't it? Oh, I forgot," she added blithely as she took her seat next to him, "you wouldn't know."
He winced, just a little, at that barb, but decided to magnanimously ignore it. Draco and Astoria were deep in a murmured conversation. Draco had placed his hand on top of his girlfriend's. Lucius wondered if the stern look had been all that was needed to bring the boy to heel. He didn't know whether to applaud Miss Greengrass or chastise his son for being such a milksop.
Either way, he decided that the other couple were so absorbed in each other that it would do no harm for him to amuse himself with Hermione. Her presence next to him throughout the meal had kept him on a knife edge of anticipation. Her soft scent stimulated thousands of pleasurable memories and he could barely concentrate on insulting her for vivid sexual flashbacks. Sneaking a glance in the direction of his son, he covertly placed his hand on Hermione's thigh. He eased it upwards a little, still staring blandly across the table, while his fingers slipped beneath her skirt. They encountered the lace the top of a stocking and then warm, soft flesh. Lucius inhaled sharply, he was assailed by images of Hermione, naked but for those stockings and a pair of high heels, legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged into her over and over again.
His pleasant reverie was interrupted by something sharp poking against his belly.
"Mr Malfoy-" Hermione leaned close to him and smiled sweetly as if she were making a particularly witty observation about the food "-if you do not remove your hand from my thigh within the next five seconds I will hex you so hard you'll be grateful you have already sired an heir, do I make myself clear?" As if to punctuate her threat she angled her wand downwards in the direction of his crotch. He snatched his hand back giving her a wounded look as he did so. She ignored him, instead, smiling brilliantly at the waiter who had come to clear their plates.
Lucius surreptitiously examined Hermione as she looked at the desert menu. He was rather stung by her rejection of him. Admittedly, he hadn't been particularly nice to her over the course of the evening, but surely she had to understand that he had appearances to maintain. If she wished to keep their relationship a secret then they had to display a certain amount of animosity when in public. The last thing either of them wanted was the press finding out about their union. He ignored the tiny voice in his head which proclaimed that it would be extremely proud to be associated with Hermione Granger in public.
He regarded the slender curve of her throat remembering the taste and texture of that milky skin against his lips. She wouldn't stay angry with him for long. Another glass of wine and a few compliments and he was sure she would be more than happy to accompany him home.
"I'm going to have the chocolate fondant," Astoria said, apparently oblivious to the tension between Hermione and Lucius.
"Good idea." Draco smiled across at her.
"I shall have it too." Lucius closed his menu. "I'm quite a fan of chocolate." He smirked over at Hermione.
She closed her own menu with a snap. "I'll have the lemon tart; I've recently gone off chocolate."
"How can anyone go off chocolate?" Astoria wondered.
"I don't know." Hermione shrugged. "I've just begun to find it rather bitter." She did not look at Lucius.
Lucius felt a flicker of apprehension as they waited for their deserts. Hermione really did seem rather displeased with him, despite the fact that he had ceased slinging barbs in her direction. Whether by accident or design, his plan appeared to have succeeded. Draco was now looking at Miss Greengrass with such blatant, cow-eyed, devotion that it made Lucius feel a little nauseated. His son had a lot to learn when it came to managing woman.
Despite his self-professed love of chocolate, he didn't really want his desert when it came. He just wanted to leave as quickly as possible and apparate Hermione back to the manor where she seemed to find him a lot more charming than she did in public. Draco and Astoria appeared to be of the same opinion. They both finished their deserts in rapid time and Astoria placed her napkin on the table.
"Mr Malfoy, Hermione, I'm terribly sorry but I forgot that Mother asked me to look in on her cocktail party this evening. She'll be terribly disappointed if I don't drop by, would you please excuse me?"
"Of course." Hermione smiled across at her.
"I should really accompany you, Astoria." Draco got politely to his feet and pulled out his girlfriend's chair. "It's a long way for you to apparate on your own."
"Well, if you wouldn't mind…" Astoria gave him a doe eyed look. "I'm not nearly as good at apparition as you are, Draco."
Lucius looked at them both through narrowed eyes. As a master deceiver, he knew when he was being lied to. Nonetheless, he couldn't wait for them to bugger off.
"Of course, you must leave; we wouldn't want to disappoint your dear mother." He stood and kissed Astoria's hand. "Please convey my regards to her."
"I should go too." Hermione made to stand, but Draco forcibly pushed her down into her chair.
"Please, Hermione, don't leave on our account, you haven't finished your desert yet."
"I-" she looked down at her plate "-oh." She picked up her fork, looking rather dispirited.
In a flurry of goodbyes and goodnights, and amidst a few more stares from the surrounding tables, the other couple left. Lucius, who had finished his own pudding, slid into Draco's vacated seat so he was now opposite Hermione. She kept her head down and took small neat bites of her tart.
"Would you like anything else, Hermione?" He asked as he signalled for the waiter, hoping she would say no so he could request the bill and they could leave.
"No," she said shortly.
"Miss Granger, manners cost nothing."
She looked up at him then, and her eyes blazed with such ire that he was almost grateful for the waiter's timely intervention. Unfortunately, it did not last long enough; as soon as the man had departed she turned on him.
"As if you have any idea what consists of good manners you pompous, arrogant, good for nothing, arse."
"My dear girl, there is no need to make a scene." Lucius didn't think he'd ever been called an arse twice in one night.
"A scene," her voice grew louder, "you think a few insults is making a scene. You have absolutely no idea what I'm capable of." She rose to her feet. Lucius felt briefly intimidated, but was relieved to see that her wand remained somewhere out of sight. "You are a self-serving, duplicitous, ignorant, prejudiced, arrogant, popinjay, and you're not nearly as good looking as you think you are." Her voice had risen several decibels. Necks around the room were being craned in their direction.
"Really Miss Granger, must you resort to petty name calling? You're not even terribly good at it, you used arrogant twice," Lucius said blandly, trying to pretend that the comment about his looks hadn't hit home.
"You're right; I'm not good at name calling. I find that, in instances such as these, actions speak louder than words." Before he had any idea of what she was about to do, she had upended the water jug from the table directly over his head. "Thank you for a most educational dinner, Mr Malfoy." She flounced out of the restaurant leaving Lucius to splutter helplessly and scrape his wet hair out of his eyes. If he had been in any doubt as to how unpopular he had become with the wizarding world at large, he was disabused of those illusions when several of the other diners began to applaud.
A/N Do any of you feel Lucius got off pretty lightly there?...I do…it's a good job the night is young…he wouldn't be stupid enough to follow her out the restaurant, would he…