Hooray for finally getting over this writer's block! Trying to get as many chapters out as I can before things get busy again! Thank you for all the hits, reviews, and support! It's the reason I continue to write! Chapter 21 short but packed with emotion, so proceed with caution.

Chapter 21

Lucius and Hermione stood numbly in the doorway, watching Hopkins storm off until he apparated with a loud crack!

"What on earth was that all about?" Hermione finally asked. She wanted to round on Lucius and confront him for creating this new fiasco, but she still felt his rage concealed only just beneath the surface, so she softened her approach.

Lucius responded but refused to look at her. "Well, first off, he wanted you from the moment you walked into the room."

Hermione looked at Lucius skeptically, although he did not return her gaze.

"It's true. I had my suspicions during our conversation before your arrival, but judging by the sentiments he expressed during his interview, he clearly holds you in very high esteem and thinks that I am an unworthy outlet for your affections."

Hermione looked back out the front door to the spot where the reporter had vanished. "But I've never even met him before…"

"You sincerely underestimate your own influence, Miss Granger."

Is that why I was the target of your sick game, Lucius Malfoy? Hermione thought, although she didn't dare say it.

If Lucius was using Legilimency to read her mind, he didn't show it. "But yes, it would have been very advantageous for him if I had made a move that sent me back to Azkaban."

Hermione felt herself growing exasperated. "Why did you even invite him over in the first place?"

Lucius sighed. "The news surrounding us was getting stale, and I had hoped an interview would have stirred up some more drama, although this wasn't exactly the drama I was looking for…"

Lucius shook his head and quietly shut the front door. Hermione remained in the entryway, still overwhelmed by all that had happened in the last twelve hours.

"And what exactly was the drama were you looking for? Did you want him to be here for the morning after? To see my messy hair, the bruises on my shoulders, and the scratches on my back? Or better yet, for me to come downstairs wearing nothing at all-"

"No," Lucius interrupted. Looking away, he thoughtfully added, "I knew you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?"

"Come to breakfast looking the way you did last night, or rather, this morning."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I will continue to allude to it because I can imagine your feelings surrounding it Miss Granger, but the events of last night will have no bearing on the future."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What does that mean?"

Lucius fixed her in his gaze, his tone measured and his lips set in that thin, cold line that could cut right through her. "It means that it is unlikely such a perfect combination of alcohol, loneliness, and desperation will combine like it did yesterday evening, at least on my part."

Hermione felt her jaw go slightly slack. "So that's all it was then?" Her voice trembled with rage and sadness, although she tried to control it. "Some magic formula is all it takes to make a man of your standing sleep with a Mud-"

"Don't say it," Lucius hissed.

"Why shouldn't I?" Hermione yelled, losing composure. "Why? Because it makes what happened last night even more real for you? It holds you accountable? It makes you think about your decisions, maybe even how the affected me? Can you not bear to think about the fact that the great Lucius Malfoy has sunk so low that he has slept with a Mudblood the age of his own son?"

Lucius's eyes flashed dangerously. Hermione saw his hand twitch on the head of his cane, but she was no longer afraid. She had done so much for this man – fought for him, protected him, loved him, even – but she was done pretending for him.

"But since you know everything, please, enlighten me, Lucius," Hermione spat, taking a dangerous step toward him. "How did you know that I wouldn't come downstairs in such a state?"

Lucius tried to keep his tone level, but emotion soon threatened to get the best of him. "Firstly, because of your standing in our sick game. You would never give me the satisfaction."

"I gave enough of that to you last night," Hermione spat before she could stop herself.

Lucius's lip turned into a snarl. "I also knew you would bathe and dress before letting me see you again because you regret what happened as much as I do!"

"Oh, I do?"

"Yes!" Lucius bellowed, and Hermione felt a familiar fear well up inside of her, although she refused to step back. "Your tone, your demeanor, and this entire conversation had led me to believe that you regret the decision you made last night to not only tempt me-"

"Tempt you?" Hermione seethed.

"-but also that you regret all that happened afterward!"

"But what if I don't!?"

Lucius's mouth, ready to respond, shut itself silently. The pair stood in the entryway, booth seething and staring at one another with fire in their eyes.

The question hung in the air but went unanswered. The truth was too much for either of them to comprehend. For once in his life, Lucius Malfoy was at a sincere loss for words.

A part of Hermione wanted to take back what she said, but she was honestly relieved to have it out in the open. When she thought back to the night before, she felt excitement, frustration, and passion. There was regret there, too, of course there was. But she doubted it was in the way Lucius imagined. And the fact that his regret was so strong made her feel stupid, made her feel worthless, and made her feel used.

Hermione tried to convince herself that the reason she was so upset was because the man in front of her was like a marble statue, beautiful to look at but hollow within. But the truth was, she knew that he wasn't hollow, that he could love, but wouldn't, and that was the most painful part of it all.

Hermione's eyes sparkled with tears. Lucius's were reflective, but Hermione suspected it was because he had drawn so far into himself that he was almost lost to the world.

Lucius took a step closer to Hermione, and she saw his features soften slightly. He reached out his hand. Hermione stayed rooted to the spot.

Lucius grabbed Hermione gently by the chin, resting this thumb just below her lip. Hermione wasn't sure whether he was going to kiss her or slap her, or which one would have been harder for her to take, so she just braced herself and waited with bated breath.

Lucius guided her head to the side, and as she tilted her head, the telltale bruising on her shoulders and collar bones became exposed. He looked them over thoughtfully, almost as if trying to prove to himself that they were real, and that they were his. As he returned her head to its original position, Hermione tried to read his expression, but to no avail.

Lucius released her chin and stared at her one final time before suddenly sweeping back through the entrance hall, but he paused at the open doorway that led to the rest of the house. He stood in silence, one hand supporting himself against the doorway, the other white-knuckled on his cane.

Hermione remained frozen, helplessly watching him leave.

Although his back was to her, Hermione heard his voice quietly drift over to her.

"To answer your question from this morning, no, I didn't sleep well last night."

Hermione furrowed her tear-filled gaze.

"In fact, I didn't sleep at all."

Then, he whipped around the corner and out of sight.