As always, thank you to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
In many ways, St. Mungo's had become a second home for Hermione. It was crisp and orderly, and it was easy to dive into the methodical practice of what she knew, drawing from her intelligence instead of her emotions as she so often did when she was at home. On this day, however, she couldn't feel more out of place, even as she sat in a small waiting room that had become so familiar to her.
Arthur held her hand tightly in his, occasionally squeezing it reassuringly. They were the only two people in the room, the silence overwhelmed her.
"Hermione," Arthur called softly.
She looked up at him, knowing her eyes betrayed just how nervous she was.
"Relax," he said, kissing her forehead. She leaned into it, tilting her head when he put a finger under her chin, coaxing her into a sweet kiss. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, letting the kiss linger as she melted in the comfort of his embrace.
A throat cleared and they sprang apart abruptly. When Hermione looked up, her throat went dry.
None other than Molly stood in front of them, smiling awkwardly at them.
"H-hullo, Molly," Hermione stuttered, flushing.
"Hello, Hermione," she said softly. Dean walked in behind her, giving them friendly waves.
"What brings you in today?" he asked, carefully helping Molly into a seat with one hand on her back and the other plastered over the woman's bulging belly.
Molly caught Hermione's gaze and rubbed her bump affectionately. "My third- or rather tenth, I suppose," she said softly. "It's a girl." Molly looked past her at Arthur, exchanging unspoken words with her ex-husband.
"You expecting again, Hermione?" Dean said, smiling at her.
Hermione couldn't mask the drop in her expression at Dean's question, and Arthur rubbed her back softly. "No, not at the moment," he answered for her.
"Oh," Dean answered easily. "Lucky you, then. John and Lydia are quite the handfuls already, don't know how we'll manage with a house full."
"So you just have the one, then?" Molly asked, surprise evident in her tone.
Hermione looked up at that and gave her a quick smile that she knew did not meet her eyes. "Yes," she said softly.
"Oh," Molly answered quietly, and the room dropped into an awkward silence.
Hermione began wringing her fingers as she peered anxiously at the waiting room's open doorway, praying that a healer would show up and whisk them away.
As if on cue, a short, silver-haired healer appeared then. "Mrs. Weasley?" she called.
Hermione froze for a moment as she made to stand, a blush tinting her cheeks as she steadily avoided looking in Molly's direction. She sprang up after another moment of hesitation, eager to exit the room. As they passed by Molly, the older woman reached out a hand and caught Hermione's arm.
"It'll happen soon," she said quietly, giving Hermione's arm a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes shone with sincerity, and for once were devoid of the pain Hermione had grown accustomed to seeing in them over the months.
"Thank you," Hermione said, giving the woman a small but genuine smile.
"Cheers, then," Dean called as she nodded at him before following Arthur and the healer into the hall.
Only a few minutes later, she was lying on her back with her feet in stirrups while the healer examined her most intimate parts. Arthur held her hand gently, squeezing it whenever her eyes met his. The healer was silent as she worked, which only served to augment Hermione's trepidation.
"You're doing great," Arthur assured her, giving her a quick kiss.
"Thank you," she said, looking back at where the healer worked between her legs.
"Have you been having any monthlies?" the healer asked. "You should experiencing them for a day or two at the most," she explained.
"No," Hermione answered.
"Good. Most bound witches should be experiencing only a few days of bleeding a month, although most are expected to stop bleeding completely within a year or two."
Hermione nodded as the woman continued to poke and prod at her nether regions, forcing herself not to squirm.
Eventually, the healer pulled back, flicking her wand to fix Hermione's clothing once she'd removed her feet from the stirrups.
"All is normal, and the fertility enchantments in your ring have been confirmed to be in perfect working order," the healer spoke, and Hermione let out a small sigh of relief. "What this means, then, is that your difficulties are being caused by external factors," she said, looking between Hermione and Arthur. "We understand that you have been thrust into a difficult situation and that your stress levels will naturally be elevated at many times, but it is my duty to remind you that you must prioritize keeping your stress levels low in order to foster the healthy growth of your family."
Hermione nodded, squeezing Arthur's hand.
"You are in optimal health, Mrs. Weasley, and we hope to hear positive news from you soon," the healer said before nodding at them and exiting the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind the healer, she stood, turning to Arthur.
"I understand," he said, giving her a soft smile at the look she gave him. "Molly and I...we tried for a girl for years," he said, smiling fondly at the memory. "We tried for so long, and we'd all but given up hope when we found out she was pregnant with Ginny."
Hermione nodded, giving him a quick kiss.
"We are trying," he said when they pulled back. "We are trying, and you will get pregnant."
"Thank you for being here, Arthur," she whispered, kissing him again. "I appreciate it, more than you know."
"You are my wife," he answered simply.
He gave her another lingering kiss, and she ran a hand up his chest. "How much time do you have before you need to be back at work?" she asked when they pulled back, breathing heavily.
"Enough," he smiled as she tugged him out the door, heading for the nearest Apparition point.
X
Hermione stood in front of her bathroom mirror, scowling at the many empty bottles of Sleekeazy's that were strewn across the marble countertop. Even after slathering her hair with product and using every charm she knew, her mane of wild curls still refused to cooperate. Tonight the Malfoys - alongside Kingsley - would be hosting the Ministry's annual Beltane Ball. She would need to put on her best facade on this evening, presenting herself as the dutiful wife of some of the richest and most powerful men in wizarding society. It was maddening, considering that all she wished to do was return to the dungeons to care for her parents.
There was a soft knock on the open door, and she turned to see Harry leaning casually against the doorframe, looking devilishly handsome in his Gryffindor-red dress robes.
"You look gorgeous, Harry," she said, sweeping her eyes over him appreciatively. She had the pleasure of seeing a slight blush tint his cheeks.
"I could say the same to you," he said, sweeping his own eyes over her form. She was currently wearing a short, blush-colored robe that was spattered with small splotches of liquid from her last application of Sleekeazy's.
She rolled her eyes at him. "You would say that even if I was wearing a bedsheet, Harry," she laughed.
"Bedsheets are my favorite," his voice dropped an octave as he crossed over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
She giggled as he began planting kisses along her neck, smiling into her skin. "There's no time for this right now," she said, sighing as she pulled away. "My hair is not cooperating with me and guests are due to start arriving in-" she peeked at his watch "-just over an hour."
He pulled back, kneading her shoulders until she became pliant under his touch. "You and I both know that's not all that's bothering you," he said. "They've been stable for nearly a week now, 'Mione. We've already emptied the pensieves twice. They're on the mend - please don't let your fear make you forget that."
She sighed. "I know," she said. "It's just that whenever I close my eyes, all I can see is her convulsing, and all that blood…" she trailed off, feeling herself getting choked up.
"Hermione," Harry twisted her gently until she looked at him. "You saved her. You've assessed them yourself dozens of times since - they've never been better. They are on the mend." He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
"Thank you," she whispered when she pulled back.
"Tonight, you need to step back and relax a bit," he smiled, rubbing her shoulders. "That is what you need most of all right now."
She gave him a small smile and nodded.
Harry looked at the mess of empty bottles spread over the sink. "You know, I think I still get paid a dividend for each bottle sold," he mused.
He guffawed at her expression. "Yes, you have indeed been paying yourself every time you purchased a bottle."
She scowled again. "It's your money-"
"Our money, Hermione," he said pulling her close once more. "This isn't just about your parents and hair though, is it?"
"I…" she bit her lip nervously. "I don't fit in with these people. Only two years ago half of these people would have shunned my presence in their high society affairs. And now…"
"Now, you've been thrust into the center of it all and have no idea how to cope," he finished for her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror, shining with understanding.
"How did you manage it?" she asked, relaxing into his embrace.
"I think you know better than anyone that I didn't," he chuckled. "But I had you, and now you have me. We'll get through this night, and anything else life throws at us together."
She nodded and gave him a small smile, tilting her head back to kiss him.
"Now, let's get your hair sorted, shall we?" he said when they pulled apart. She scowled once again, and he laughed, giving her another quick kiss.
X
An hour later, they'd managed to somewhat tame her curls into a bun at the crown of her head which she'd then interwoven with some of the crystals she'd saved from her wedding. She'd chosen a long, sweeping set of midnight blue velvet robes that swept low across her chest, leaving her shoulders and collarbone exposed, along with a swell of cleavage that she'd been unable to cover. There was a long, glittering cape attached to the back, sweeping along behind her.
"You are the most beautiful witch I've ever seen," Harry said, walking up behind where she stood, watching herself in the mirror. She gasped as he reached around her to fasten a necklace made of large, glittering diamonds around her neck.
"Harry," she whispered, touching the necklace. "You know I can't wear all of that jewelry they've given me, it's entirely too much-"
He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Actually, this one's from my vault," he said. "It was my grandmother's," he said. "At least, I think so - it looks like she's wearing it in one of her portraits, but I can't be certain-"
"It's stunning," she interrupted with a smile, twisting in his arms to kiss him once more.
"Let's go," he said, placing her hand in the crook of his arm. She swallowed nervously as she let him lead her out the door, then froze altogether as she heard the voices of their guests floating up from the entrance hall.
"Hermione," Harry laughed. "I won't leave your side," he promised.
"You have to," she groaned. "I have to entertain as the Minister's Wife," she muttered bitterly.
"Hullo, Harry," Arthur said, walking up to them. "Hullo, Hermione," he pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "May I ask why you have yet to join the festivities?"
"Hermione's got a spot of anxiety, is all," Harry chuckled.
"You look stunning, Hermione," Arthur offered. "You're certain to be the center of attention this evening."
Harry chuckled at her expression. "That is the opposite of what she was hoping for, I imagine," he smirked.
The two men offered their elbows to her, and the three of them soon made their way down the steps of the grand staircase. As predicted, as soon as they'd begun their descent, the guests that filtered through the entrance hall toward the ballroom all began watching them, and she watched as many started exchanging words in hushed whispers. Despite her knowledge that the number of older women that survived the plague significantly outnumbered the women of birthing age who had survived, she was still surprised by the number of women present in the room. As they reached the bottom of the steps, she knew her skin was tinted pink from all of the attention.
"Harry! Hermione!" Ron called, making his way over to them. "Oh! Hi dad," he added when he saw Arthur, who greeted him back happily.
Hermione pulled her hands away from her husbands, suddenly feeling flustered in Ron's presence.
"I'll leave you all to it then," Arthur said, giving them a small smile before disappearing into the crowd.
"You look beautiful, 'Mione," Ron smiled at her. "How have you been?"
"Thank you, Ron," she smiled. "I've been...well," she hesitated.
Thankfully, Ron didn't notice her hesitation and carried on chattering. "Parvati's around here somewhere," he said, craning his neck as he scanned the crowd. "She's been taking advantage of the night to drink for once," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling.
Hermione smiled at the sight, glad to see how smitten he appeared to be with her.
"Mate, look at those!" Ron pointed to a floating tray of desserts that were piled high with cream and adorned with what looked suspiciously like flecks of real gold. Ron tugged Harry's arm and dragged him off after the tray, leaving Hermione standing alone as they quickly vanished into the crowd.
Hermione swallowed nervously, feeling the heat of the gazes of those around her as they watched her every movement. She craned her neck as she looked around, inwardly cursing her small stature. She began wandering through the crowd, keeping her head down lest she make eye contact with one of Kingsley or Lucius' haughty acquaintances. She spotted Draco's platinum head a short distance away, and sighed in relief, quickly making her way over to him. He was standing with Blaise and Theo, and together the three of them towered over her.
"Hey," Draco smiled down at her, slipping a hand around her waist and giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek. "You look amazing," he whispered in her ear.
"Well if it isn't your lovely stepmother," Theo smirked, snorting at Draco's instant scowl.
"Hullo, Theo, Blaise," she said, smiling at the two men. "Enjoying the party?"
"Half of these people are insufferable twits," Theo said, rolling his eyes.
"Agreed," Blaise said. "They wouldn't know class if it bit them in the arse."
"Mrs. Huxley looked ready to lick my father's boots," Draco huffed. "Pathetic, the lot of them."
Hermione stifled a giggle.
"Have you had the pleasure of running into any of the Malfoys' esteemed acquaintances yet?" Theo asked.
"Thankfully, no," she said, leaning closer into Draco as she scanned the crowd around them with a small frown.
"Our wife appears to have gotten caught up with some of ours," Blaise said, looking somewhere beyond Hermione and Draco. "She looks most displeased."
At that, Theo let out a small snort, his eyes following where Blaise looked.
Hermione looked between them, puzzled. "You have the same wife? I thought that-"
"Did I not tell you what happened?" Draco said, stifling a smile at the scowl that had taken over Blaise's face.
"After his initial betrothed's sudden passing, he was reassigned to a new wife," Like Draco, Theo was smirking as he spoke, eyes dancing with humor as he took in Blaise's scowl. "As it turns out, the Ministry mailed him a letter informing him that he had been re-assigned to one Ms. Molly Weasley, and only a few days later realized that the letter was supposed to say, 'Ms. Ginevra Molly Weasley.'"
At this, Hermione let out an outright laugh, and the others - save Blaise - joined her. "I am so sorry, Blaise," she said once she'd sobered. "I can't imagine what that must have been like."
"I believe the words "satan's bollocks" were thrown around quite a bit during the initial two rounds," Draco smirked.
"Shut it," Blaise grumbled, to the continued amusement of his two best mates.
"Welcome," Theo spoke to someone over her shoulder, and Hermione turned to find none other than the woman in question approaching. She wore a set of champagne-colored robes that accented the swell of her middle.
"Hullo, Ginny," Hermione said carefully, giving the woman a small smile.
Ginny's returning smile was stiff, and she instead situated herself between her two husbands, giving them quick kisses on the cheek in lieu of returning Hermione's greeting. Draco's arm stiffened around her waist, but she placed a hand delicately on his chest, signaling him to relax.
"Weaselette," Draco drawled, his voice as stiff as Ginny's smile had been.
"Malfoy," she greeted. "Lovely party," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
"Congratulations," Hermione said, gesturing at Ginny's baby bump.
"Thanks," Ginny said. "And how far along are you?" she said, blinking innocently as Hermione smoothed a hand over her flat stomach at the other woman's words.
"I'm not currently expecting, actually," Hermione said, trying to maintain her false smile.
"Oh, so just the one, then?" Ginny pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Hermione answered through gritted teeth.
"Hm," Ginny said, giving Hermione a small, sad smile.
Blaise, Theo, and Draco exchanged a look, likely calculating the amount of time they had left keeping their wives in such close proximity before things imploded.
Before Draco could pull her away, however, she spotted Kingsley in the crowd, who gave her a small smile. "Please excuse me," she said, giving Draco's hand a quick squeeze before slipping away.
"You look ravishing tonight," Kingsley said as she approached, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright," she said, giving him a smile that she hoped was convincing enough.
Before Kingsley could answer, a small group of Ministry officials Hermione recognized from the wedding walked up to them. They all gave her short, curt nods as they approached, greeting Kingsley.
"Mr. Shacklebolt," A short, portly-looking man with balding grey hair spoke first. "Mrs. Shacklebolt," he added, lifting her hand so he could give it a quick kiss.
"Welcome," Kingsley said. "I hope you all have been enjoying the evening's festivities," he added.
"The Malfoys have certainly outdone themselves," an auburn-haired man said, looking appreciatively around the grand ballroom.
"They have," another man agreed. "How have your accommodations been at the Manor thus far? If I recall correctly, you've been living here nearly a year now, have you not?"
"Yes," Kingsley nodded. "The Malfoys have provided us with many comforts."
"I trust that you have been enjoying it as well, Mrs. Shacklebolt?" the auburn-haired man asked.
"Yes," she answered. "They have been most hospitable."
"I can only assume that there has been ample space provided for the children here," the balding man said. "Your family was one of the few that we neither needed to grant a larger home or house elves for tending to the children," he added.
"That is true," Kingsley said. "The nurseries are kept on the third floor, in the west wing."
The tall, thin woman with curling grey hair in the group spoke then, her eyes sliding up and down Hermione's frame. "It is of my understanding that you have yet to conceive a second child, Mrs. Shacklebolt," she said. Hermione recognized her as one of those who had been praising her at the wedding, but her eyes were cold as she appraised her.
The others in the group watched her interestedly as they waited for her to respond.
Hermione swallowed before answering. "Yes, that is true," she said quietly.
"How…unfortunate," the woman clipped, taking a slow sip of her champagne as she continued to appraise her.
Had Kingsley not been gripping her waist tightly, she feared that she would have buckled under the force of the woman's gaze.
After a drawn-out moment of silence, the woman turned to Kingsley and began inquiring about Ministry-related activities. Soon, the others in the group joined her, leaving little room for Hermione to participate in the conversation.
"Excuse me," she mumbled after a few minutes of conversation, wandering until she stepped out onto one of the many terraces. She sucked in a mouthful of fresh air before crossing over to one of the stone benches and sitting down, closing her eyes as she inhaled a deep breath. The sounds of the night floated around her, the terrace somehow quieter than the ballroom that was only feet away. Hermione suspected it was one of the Malfoys' clever enchantments, along with one that kept the area around her nicely warm although she knew the temperature was only slightly above zero.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lady of the Manor," a familiar voice spoke from in front of her. Hermione looked up to see Parvati smiling down at her, looking even more stunning than usual in glittering gold robes.
"You look beautiful," Hermione smiled at her friend, fingering the delicate material as the woman sat down beside her.
"Courtesy of on Mr. Covington," she said, sweeping her hands over her dress. "He may be rubbish in the sack but his gifts quite make up for it. Somewhat," she added with a small shrug.
Hermione laughed, shaking her head at her. "Always look on the bright side of life, right?"
Parvati laughed with her for a moment before sighing. "Lavender wouldn't have minded," she said sadly, looking off at the night sky that glittered with the light of a thousand stars.
Hermione reached over and squeezed Parvati's hand. "I miss her too," Hermione said.
"She loved parties, dressing up, all these things," Parvati said. "I just wish I could share all of this with her, even for one final moment," she added, her voice tinged with sadness.
"Do you remember the time she tried that new makeup charm she found in Witch Weekly?" Hermione giggled.
Parvati threw her head back and laughed. "Her lips were glittering green for a week!"
"It's times like these where the loss feels the greatest," Hermione said when they'd sobered, looking back at the party over her shoulder. "So many are carrying on as if nothing has changed, but everything's just so different now."
"Mm," Parvati agreed. "Strange, isn't it? Just a year ago I couldn't fathom being married, let alone having children."
"But now…" Hermione said, exchanging a knowing look with her.
"Now, they're everything...everything and more," Parvati agreed. "And my husbands... I've grown quite fond of them, too, I must admit," she added.
"Even Ron's god awful chewing?"
Parvati laughed again. "That I can do without, but...I love him, Hermione," she said. "I really do." Her eyes were shining with the emotion.
"He loves you too," Hermione smiled. "Even if he hasn't yet said it - I know he does. I can see it in his eyes as much as I can see it in yours. And when he looks at the twins and then at you...he looks like he's about to burst with it."
Parvati gave her a beatific smile at that, and they soon fell into a companionable silence.
"Let's head back in," Parvati said, standing. Hermione followed behind her, weaving through the crowd of unfamiliar faces.
They'd stopped to pick up glasses of sparkling cider when Hermione's hand collided with that of another woman. She pulled back, and the tray floated away to reveal a dark-haired woman standing in front of her. She wore robes in a near-identical midnight blue color to Hermione's, but Astoria's were cut low at the bosom. They also had a long slit cut up the front, where a glittering silver heel was visible. Despite the daring cut of her dress, she still managed to look elegant. She was quite pretty, save for the frown that was etched deep into her features as she appraised them.
"Greengrass," Parvati said curtly, giving the woman a stiff smile.
Oh. Hermione looked at the woman once more, taking in the features of the woman who had once been destined to be Draco's intended. Hermione had only seen the woman's picture once in papers accompanying the announcement, which she'd promptly thrown into the fire, unable to stand looking at the couple any longer.
Astoria was the picture of disdain, staring back at Hermione with narrowed icy-blue eyes. "Patil," she sniffed. "Granger."
"Fascinating outfit choice," Parvati said, narrowing her eyes back at the other woman.
Astoria narrowed her eyes further. "And your robes are quite...striking," she said disdainfully, before turning to Hermione. "Quite plain for such an event, no?" she said, flicking her eyes over Hermione's dress. "And the necklace is...a bit...well," she flipped her long, straight hair over her shoulder.
"Have you been enjoying the festivities?" Hermione offered with a strained smile, ignoring the woman's remarks.
"My night has been satisfactory," she sniffed haughtily.
"And where are your esteemed husbands?" Parvati asked, smirking at Astoria's resulting frown.
"They're around," Astoria said, smoothing a hand over the small, rounded bump of her stomach. She caught Hermione's gaze and gave her a small smirk. "I hear that you've yet to conceive a second," she sniffed. "How unfortunate."
"And I hear that your husbands are quite destitute and that you've been assigned one of the homes that were seized," Parvati snapped.
Astoria glared at her before turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd without another word.
"Parvati!" Hermione said, still gaping at the exchange.
Parvati shrugged. "She needed to be put in her place," she said. "Besides, can you imagine how upset she must be at the reminder that she's stuck living like a pauper while you get the life she always wanted?"
Hermione stuttered. "It's- I've never been much for all of-" she waved her hands in the air noncommittally.
"And that's what's killing the bitch," Parvati said, winking at her. She frowned as she caught something behind Hermione. "Do excuse me - Covington's drunk again," she sighed, disappearing into the crowd.
And so Hermione found herself alone once again and opted to make her way to the loo instead of chancing any more unfortunate run-ins.
She was soon walking down a corridor that held only a few mingling guests who paid her little mind as she breezed by. She was making her way past an open sitting room when she paused, turning to re-examine the room's occupants.
Inside sat Lucius, and he was sitting next to the most beautiful woman Hermione had ever seen. Her ebony skin glowed in the golden light that emitted from the fireplace, illuminating the perfectly sculpted leg that was nearly completely exposed by the daringly high slit in her emerald green dress robes. The robes were skintight and plunged deep in the front, showcasing her generous curves and revealing an ample amount of cleavage. The proportions of her face were nothing short of perfection, the structured sweep of her jaw, high cheekbones and full lips a showcase of elegant beauty. Hermione swept her eyes over the woman once more, transfixed by her beauty. When her gaze reached the woman's face once more, she was surprised to see her eyes fixated upon her.
"This must be your wife," the woman said, giving Hermione a slow smile. Even the woman's voice was perfection, dripping with seduction.
At that, Lucius looked up at where Hermione stood, his grey eyes unreadable. Even in the presence of the woman's ethereal perfection, he was still strikingly handsome.
"Mrs. Malfoy," Lucius drawled. "Do come in."
She hesitated for a moment before entering the room. She felt their eyes on her as she crossed the room, feeling inferior in the presence of their combined beauty.
"This is Alycia Zabini," Lucius said as she sat in an armchair across from them.
"A pleasure," Alycia said.
Hermione squirmed under the woman's probing gaze and cleared her throat. "A pleasure to, uh, meet you as well, Mrs, erm Zabini…?" she trailed off, cringing internally at how raspy her voice sounded.
She waved her hand dismissively. "Zabini is fine. He was, unfortunately, the most useless of my husbands, although it does carry a bit of sentimentality on account of my son, I suppose," she said.
Hermione nodded, still hesitant to speak in the woman's intimidating presence.
Alycia took a slow sip of her champagne, clicking a long, scarlet-tipped fingernail against the glass as she continued to peruse Hermione. "You've been quite the talk of society," she said eventually, breaking the silence.
"I, uh, wasn't aware," Hermione said, cringing again because of course, she wasn't blind to the reporters or constant newspaper articles about her life. Lucius was still silent and impassive, nearly ignoring her.
"Really now?" Alycia said, taking another long sip from her glass. She had a glittering diamond necklace around her throat that dropped into her cleavage and swayed as she moved, and Hermione found her eyes constantly dropping down to before flushing as she remembered where her gaze kept falling.
"She's cute, Lucius," Alycia said, smiling at her in a way that Hermione couldn't help but interpret as condescending. In reality, she knew that the woman was being matter-of-fact - Hermione felt very child-like indeed in this woman's presence.
It was then that Hermione noticed that the woman had a hand splayed over Lucius' thigh, and was gently dragging a claw-tipped fingernail over it in delicate but precise movements. Hermione's gaze flicked up to Lucius, then back to Alycia, who watched her with a knowing smirk on her lips. But of course there had been more than friendship between the two of them - there was enough beauty between them that it was near-inconceivable that there hadn't been anything between them at some point.
"Do tell me, Mrs. Malfoy," Alycia smiled. "How has our dear Lucius been treating you?"
"Well enough," she said quietly, looking away from where the other woman was nearly draped across her husband's lap.
"Well enough, you say?" Hermione heard the hint of surprise in the other woman's voice but did not yet look up. "I am quite disappointed," she said. "You're known for treating your women so very well," she murmured.
Hermione looked up in time to see the woman dragging a fingertip across Lucius' sharp jaw, while he looked down at her.
"Rest assured that my wife has been afforded all of the Malfoy...hospitalities," Lucius drawled, taking a slow sip of the amber liquid in the crystal glass in his hand.
Hermione felt her skin flushing, feeling a coil of jealousy twisting in her stomach as she watched them.
Alycia turned and gave Lucius a long kiss on the cheek before standing, her movements fluid and sensual as she straightened. "Do excuse me," the woman said before turning to exit the room. The elegant sway of the woman's hips had Hermione transfixed even as she quickly disappeared from view, leaving her alone with Lucius.
"You've slept with her, in the past," Hermione found the words dropping out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She looked up and met his grey eyes that glittered in the light that the fire threw from behind her.
"Yes," he answered simply.
"Did Narcissa know?" She knew, without needing to ask, that the affair had taken place during his first marriage.
"The union between Narcissa and I was not one borne out of love."
"Would you have married her, if you'd had the chance?" She'd started asking and now could not stop.
Lucius raised an eyebrow at her. "No," he clipped. "I had no interest in being found dead, and our arrangement suited us just fine."
"You would still be sleeping with her, if you could," Hermione mused, looking back to the open doors of the sitting room where guests continued to mill past.
"Perhaps," he clipped easily.
She looked back at him, searching his eyes for something, although she knew not what.
"Is there an issue, Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked, searching her eyes just as intently as she did his. "Perhaps this...vexes you?" he added with a slow smirk.
"It most certainly does not vex me," she snapped, standing abruptly. She'd nearly made it to the heavy oak doors when they flew closed and she felt Lucius' presence at her back.
She turned to find him even closer than she'd expected, her bosom meeting his chest with every breath she took.
She stepped back and he followed until her back was pressed against the closed doors. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his as she felt the heat of his broadly muscled body radiating against her own. She couldn't tell if his eyes were dark with mocking or lust and cursed herself for hoping for the latter.
The room was near silent save for their mingled breaths and the soft crackling of the fire behind them.
Somewhere, a voice in the back of her mind reminded her that this was Lucius Malfoy, the man who had taken her in every impersonal way he could come up with and that she shouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing her lust. Yet, she could not tear her eyes away from his. Yes, he usually took his pleasure from her, dismissing her shortly afterward. Now, though, she realized as she continued to search his eyes, she had the option of taking her pleasure from him. Yes, tonight she would take her pleasure instead, and would not stop until she had come undone.
She slid her hands down his abdomen, feeling his muscles clench slightly under her touch. He continued to stare her down and she looked back defiantly, wondering if he would stop the slow descent of her hands.
He didn't. When she undid his robes and reached for the topmost button of his trousers, he surged forward suddenly, dragging up her dress robes with a small bout of wandless magic. She vanished her knickers and mumbled a lubrication charm just as quickly, and he drove into her without ceremony, causing her to moan loudly.
Hyper-aware of the guests mingling just outside the room, she leaned forward and bit the side of his neck, driven as much by her desire to keep from alerting the entire populace of Wizarding Britain to their activities as her desire to visibly mark her husband as belonging to her. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and she slid one arm around his neck while using the other to rub her clit vigorously. She came with a cry and released his throat as her head rolled back against the door.
His movements sped up soon after she came, and she reached down to rub her clit once more, chasing a second orgasm. Her pussy fluttered with every delicious drag of his cock, and she clenched herself around him, smiling satisfactorily when he let out a groan at her actions. He came then, spurting deep into her body. She rubbed her clit faster, coming on his cock a second time as he breathed heavily into her neck, admiring the mark she had left there. She reached down to dislodge his cock, smirking once more as he shuddered when she squeezed his still-sensitive length slowly.
She fixed her robes quickly and left without a word, stepping out the door and letting it click shut behind her, meeting the curious looks of the guests that watched her emerge with a small, satisfied smirk.
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