So, our lovebirds are "official" now. But what on earth does that mean for this bizarre pair? Read on to see where their twisted paths will take them…

Another favorite chapter of mine – what interesting games they play!

Chapter 25

So much had changed in the span of only a few hours. Hermione and Lucius had finally parted for the time being but had agreed to meet again for lunch. Hermione was currently back in the library among her books, struggling to digest all that had happened in the past two days.

She had agreed to be with Lucius. Why on earth had she made a decision so rash? Did she even want to be with him? How was she going to tell Ginny?

Hermione's stomach was filled with butterflies, but in spite of her anxiety, she believed it was mostly from excitement.

"You've gone completely insane…" she muttered under her breath as she filed a book, but she smiled all the same.

At precisely half past twelve, Hermione gave herself a stopping point, took a deep breath, and made her way downstairs to the dining room.

Lucius was already seated when she entered, but he was sneering at her. "Your first meal as my formal flame, and you show up in basic robes, unkempt hair, and dirt on your nose."

Hermione hurriedly wiped the dust from her nose and blushed.

"I must say I believe it is a little early on to be reaching this level of indifference."

"Sorry," she muttered, taking her seat. "I just didn't read a dress code on the invitation to lunch."

"When you are on the arm of Lucius Malfoy, my dear, there is always a dress code."

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled at him coyly.

The silence that stretched between the pair while they ate was not uncomfortable for one of the first times in weeks.

"So, where do I sleep now?" Hermione shattered the silence with the simplest and most idiotic question that came to mind. She started kicking herself before the last word had even left her lips.

Lucius quirked an eyebrow. "Well, Miss Granger, I had no idea you wanted our relationship to move so fast…"

"No!" Hermione said almost too quickly, feeling her face flush, which was exactly Lucius's intention. "I was just wondering, now that things are more formal, if…if you had a preference, I guess."

Lucius smiled over the brim of his water goblet. "Your room in the west wing will be fine…for now."

Hermione occupied herself with her food so as to avoid his gaze.

"There is still the matter of your blood to attend to…and that may still take me a while to get over, so certain aspects of this relationship may have to wait."

Hermione wanted to argue but just didn't have the energy anymore. Perhaps having Lucius Malfoy not viciously pursue her within the first hours of their relationship was not a bad idea. That night was a mistake, she had convinced herself. But with this new title, wasn't he bound to want more…? What was she going to say the next time the two of them were curled up alone by the fireside?

"I am also not oblivious to our age gap, either. It will take some getting used to."

"And calling me 'Hermione' instead of 'Miss Granger,'" Hermione interjected. "That is the first step to seeing me as your equal."

In spite of everything they had already done, Lucius seemed to flinch at this demand. Through gritted teeth, he murmured, "Fine, Hermione, so be it."

Hermione smiled at him with satisfaction.

"What kind of relationship is this now, anyway? Will we be going on dates every Saturday night? Swinging by a restaurant and a Muggle movie theater?" she asked mockingly.

Lucius turned up his nose. "How pedestrian."

Hermione snorted.

"If, and that is a big 'if,' my dear, we ever reach the point in our relationship where we 'date,' we will wine and dine at the most expensive restaurants in all of wizarding London before taking boat tours around the country or lavish vacations abroad."

Hermione laughed, but Lucius's confused face made her compose herself. "Wait, you're serious?"

Lucius looked at her blankly. "Of course. What else is there to do?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione finished her meal.

This all felt too easy for some reason. Lucius was cordial, friendly even, and was suddenly acting like the perfect partner. He no longer seemed to harbor the same frustration, prejudice, and doubt toward her that he once did. It couldn't have just vanished like that…

She knew she shouldn't, but Hermione couldn't resist asking, "Lucius…what is this relationship to you? How long do you see it lasting? Is it even real?"

The question caught him off guard, and he set down his fork for a moment to ponder it.

"I told you this morning, you know what you are getting into, whether you will admit it to yourself or not. You know me, and I think you know exactly what I have to gain and to lose."

Hermione fixed her eyes on him coldly but said nothing. What could she say? It was hurtful, but he was right.

"However, it seems to be impossible for us to be in close proximity without feeling some kind of attraction for one another, so this seems like the most logical option for sanity's sake. To say that we are interested in one another to at least some extent, and we will remain together until the fire dies off. So as for your other question, I keep things until they are of no use to me," Lucius declared, staring at her licentiously. "Keep finding ways to be useful, and I'll have no need to get rid of you."

"How romantic," Hermione snorted into her goblet, hurt but not surprised anymore, and that somehow lessened the blow.

"I can be a Casanova in the right circumstances, Miss…Hermione," Lucius interjected, "as I'm sure you can imagine, but I am practical above all else."

"Excellent," Hermione muttered. "You'll play with me until you become bored with me or tired of overlooking my blood status, and then you'll move on to the next pretty plaything that comes along."

"At least you're aware."

Hermione shot him a murderous glare before looking away.

"Would you not do the same to me?" he asked simply. "Would you not move on, continue to chase Weasley or Boyd or whoever else, if I stopped serving your needs?"

Hermione wanted to say no, but as she thought more about it, she could only mumble, "I suppose…"

Somewhat more softly, Lucius added, "But I certainly haven't grown bored of you yet, and I don't see that happening anytime soon."

Hermione shook herself back to reality, locking eyes with Lucius for a brief moment.

"Remember, it is all in the chase, Miss Granger, being one step ahead of your pursuer, and you have certainly given me a run for my all of my money."

Lucius stood from the table and bowed mockingly, Hermione still sitting in silent shock. "I will check on you in the library in a few hours, milady."

Oh, how she hated him, Hermione thought as she watched him shut the door behind him. She hated him with such a passionate flame that it threatened to burn into love…

*break*

True to his word, Lucius entered the library a few hours later to find Hermione knee deep in some of his volumes. She was still in the process of creating some type of system of organization for them. She turned to look at him as his footsteps approached and offered him a slight smile before returning to her work. He looked anything but plain in his casual black slacks and white button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but she would never let him know that.

As Lucius approached, he looked over the plain girl in front of him, hair a frazzled mess, robes covered in dust, and eyes screwed up in concentration, suddenly feeling a strange wave of affection wash over him that he quickly suffocated with forced indifference.

"Making progress?"

"Some," Hermione responded. "But I must ask, was there ever a method to the madness in here, or was it always just chaos?"

Lucius smirked. "There is always a method to my madness, Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she correctly quickly.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Why does it matter so much to you what I call you?"

"It's the principle," Hermione said, straightening up within her fortress of books to face him, brushing the dirt of her knees as she stood. "'Miss Granger' is what you used to call me, even when I was young, and it reflects the way you view my blood status, my age, and even my accomplishments. 'Hermione' puts us on the same level."

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," Lucius replied mockingly.

Hermione blushed slightly. "Yes. I still believe that, even today."

There was silence for a moment, and Hermione turned back to her books before Lucius's voice halted her.

"May I ask you something?"

She nodded, confused.

"What was your first impression of me, in Flourish and Blotts all those years ago? How exactly did you used to view me?"

Hermione screwed up her brow as she thought, taken aback by the question. "Well…I remember thinking that you were wealthier than I would ever be judging by your clothing. I knew you were important and intelligent just by the way you carried yourself, and that you had an iron grip on your son. I remember feeling quite terrified to stand up to you, but I knew that it had to be done."

Hermione paused for a moment before adding, "And frankly, I think Mr. Weasley gave you exactly what you deserved with that blow to your eye."

Lucius smirked at her honesty. "I had forgotten how that confrontation had ended. It was an Encyclopedia of Toadstools I was hit with, I believe…In any event, thank you for bringing back such fond memories."

Hermione chuckled under her breath.

"What about in your fifth year? At the Ministry?" Lucius pressed, curious as to her answer. "Once you were older…did I still strike that same fear in you?"

"Of course you did…" Hermione murmured. "But the next time I really saw you was at the Quidditch World Cup before your ill-attempted display of power with the other Death Eaters."

"Ah, yes," Lucius said, "now I remember. But continue."

"Well, at the World Cup, I realized very quickly how your son came to be the pompous ass he was at school."

"I will say, that strong right hook you gave him in your third year did knock some sense back into him."

"Thank you for bringing back fond memories," Hermione laughed, and Lucius actually did not look annoyed with her. She wasn't sure why, but Lucius seemed to be gaining some enjoyment from her reminiscing. She hoped he wasn't trying to relive his "glory days."

"But in the Ministry…that was the first time I felt truly fearful of you. Between you and your demented sister-in-law, it really seemed like we were going to die."

"You almost did," Lucius corrected, inching closer to her, as close as the piles of books would allow.

"Yes…" Hermione murmured, thinking about Dolohov's spell that nearly killed her. "I almost did…But after all the stories I had heard about you, what you had done to other people, wizards and Muggles alike…I knew you were capable of murdering me, of murdering all of us."

Lucius did not react, and there was a beat of silence as Hermione grew lost in her thoughts.

"But when I saw you again after we had been caught by the Snatchers, I saw you for what you really were."

Lucius arched his brow. "And that was…?"

"A weak, pathetic man. Azkaban and Voldemort's influence had broken you. And at the end of the war, you abandoned the man you served in order to save your own skin."

She saw anger ripple beneath his face, but somehow she was not afraid of him.

"And what about now…?" he asked, leaning closer to her. "Now how do you see me? A monster? A broken man? A soul seeking redemption? A soul condemned?"

"I…I…I don't know," Hermione finally admitted, and it was the truth.

Feeling suddenly claustrophobic surrounded by her fortress of books, Hermione went to step over them, but Lucius reached out his hand to her. She took it cautiously, but he suddenly grabbed her by the waist and lifted her over the stack of books to place her in front of him. Hermione paused, her fingers still digging in to the flesh on his arms from the surprise of being picked up. On his exposed forearm, she saw that faded ink beneath his skin. Lucius released her waist but did not recoil from her touch.

Carefully, she ran her fingers over what was left of the Dark Mark, almost to prove to herself that it was real. It felt sunken and cold, but it was certainly still present in his skin.

Looking up, she realized how close she was to Lucius, and her face grew hot. Without looking him in the face, she asked, "And what about me?"

"What about you?" he responded, slowly lowering his arm so that they stood close to one another but were not touching.

"What were your first impressions of me?"

Lucius snickered under his breath. "Well, that day at Flourish and Blotts you definitely surprised me. I didn't expect a child, especially a…person of your blood status, to address me so boldly. But you were loyal to your friends, loyal almost to a fault, and the moment I criticized Mr. Potter, you were there to defend him. I found it admirable, though too idiotic for you. Draco had already told me stories of you, how you were at the top of every class, and I knew you deserved the title of 'Brightest Witch of your Age,' despite your parentage."

"Why thank you," Hermione muttered with frustration.

"But as the years passed, your intelligence only grew. I still stand by what I said before: you would have made a great Slytherin."

Hermione visibly recoiled, and Lucius laughed.

"A Gryffindor through and through. But your cunning and wits would have served you well in Slytherin house, mark my words."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Lucius continued.

"I was actually quite impressed with your performance during our…time at the Ministry in your fifth year, although I was disappointed that you allowed Mr. Potter to lead you into such a weakly laid trap."

"I was sure it was a trap…" Hermione said.

"But you went to protect your friends, I know. A noble but idiotic cause. Just like a true Gryffindor."

The smiled faded from Lucius's face as he continued to relive his past. "And then your seventh year…" Lucius looked away from her. "After Draco had failed at his task of killing Dumbledore – which I knew he would, and I owe his life and mine to Severus because of it – I was released from one hell and into another. And you're right. I was weak and broken. The man I followed took almost everything from me…And then, there was my chance at redemption."

He looked back at her, a deranged hunger lighting up his eyes. Hermione took a step back, unsettled. "The three of you were delivered to my doorstep, more or less intact. But then, my idiot sister…" Lucius gritted his teeth as he remembered. "To this day, I'm not sure why Draco refused to identify Potter. But of course his friends refused to betray him. And what my sister chose to do then, once she discovered you had been in possession of the sword…" He trailed off.

"You watched," Hermione murmured, her arm burning as if Bellatrix's knife was still digging into it. "You just stood in the corner of the room and cowered as she tortured me. I was convinced you were enjoying it."

"At one time, I would have. But I was losing faith in the Dark Lord, and I had gained a new respect for you in the process, amazed at the loyalty you displayed and the strength that you showed to resist her, though I would never have admitted it at the time."

"Then why didn't you stop it?" Hermione hissed, still looking at the bookshelves to the side of him instead of those cold grey eyes.

Lucius did not have an answer.

"I know why…" Hermione murmured, looking down at her left arm, although her robes covered her flesh. "Because at the time, you believed I deserved it. The torture, the pain, and the word she carved. You believed I deserved every letter of it-"

Lucius caught her roughly by the arm, making Hermione cry out in surprise. He pulled the fabric of her robe back to reveal the word, faded but still carved into her skin after all these years.

"We are not so different after all, are we?" he murmured, running his thumb over her scarred flesh.

"Similar in all the wrong ways," Hermione responded bitterly, jerking her arm back.

The pair stood a step away from one another, sizing each other up, still trying to determine the other's feelings and intentions.

"And how do you see me now, Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione asked in a hushed whisper. "Am I an innocent child for you to corrupt? A Mudblood you can toy with like you used to years ago? An angel you can convince to fall with you? A chance at redemption for a past you regret?"

The room was deathly still. Lucius was silent for long moments, trying to come up with an answer. At a loss, he finally responded with three simple words.

"I don't know."