Oh dear ...

Now, I know a lot of you will want to know exactly what was said between Lucius and Draco, but this story is written essentially from Hermione's point of view. I have therefore not revealed the details of that conversation. That does not mean we will not discover the impact or nature of it over time, but at the moment, we see things very much as Hermione does. Hope you understand that. Draco remains an important presence in the story, however.

I wrote this chapter a while ago and when returning to it recently, I was uneasy about how I felt about it. But rereading and editing it, I find that I'm quite satisfied with it. (God, that sounds poncy - I didn't mean it like that!) I think it reveals a lot about both of them and their relationship, and there are certainly some very significant moments and conversations.

Thanks so much for the lovely reviews, including the anonymous ones I can't reply to - much appreciated and welcome!

Enjoy!

Advance warning! I am running out of previously written chapters, and therefore after a few more days, you may have to wait a bit longer for your updates! Sorry!

Thirty Six - Declaration

Hermione floated on the surface of the cool water of the swimming pool, staring straight up at the ceiling. She watched the shimmering ripples of the water reflected up onto it and tried to empty her mind. Her hands waved at her sides, keeping her afloat with the minimum effort she could afford. She focused on the sound of the water lapping softly but regularly on the edges of the pool, and the feel of it on her skin as it gently swelled and receded around her body.

But still she could not clear her mind. She felt in tune with Lucius and her mind was full simply of the words that may be passing between him and his son. It would be deeply painful for them both. Strangely, she felt no animosity towards Draco. In fact, she almost admired him for the intensity of his reaction and his ardent loyalty to his family and name. She could well understand that, to him, her presence here was an abomination.

It still staggered her that his father did not feel this way. She wasn't sure she yet understood why.

She bent her legs, moving them beneath her, and breathing deeply, she lowered herself beneath the surface, the cool rush of water surrounding her profoundly, the sudden muffling of the sound of the outside world warping her sense of reality.

How had she found herself here?

As she remained cocooned under the water, the question flitted through her mind. It had all been so sudden, so extraordinary. Why had she never sought an answer?

Her lungs became painful and she rose to the surface, opening her mouth and drawing in a deep gasping breath of air. It reminded her of her vivid life, never more vibrant than at the moment.

She had no need to question anything.

Whatever was transpiring between Draco and Lucius, she would make it right, for her, for him, for them.

She swam leisurely up the pool, realising that the pain and tension that Draco's presence had elicited had now dispersed.

After several more lengths, a strange peace encompassed her in the still room, the only sound the quiet splash of water against the tiles and her own regular breathing.

She was waiting. Waiting for him to be ready to return to her.

After what was probably an hour or so, during which time she had swum, sat, thought, bided her time, she heard a slight noise in the doorway and looked up. He stood there, tall, his face solemn, but less rigid than it had been earlier.

She rose from the water, quickly wrapping a towel around her dripping form, and approached him assuredly but gently.

He looked down at the ground, not meeting her eyes. It was not something she was used to.

"He has gone." His words filled her with a sudden apprehension.

"But he will return." She tried to make it sound like a statement, but heard it in her own head as a question.

He raised his head and looked into her eyes. "I believe so," he said flatly. She could not infer his true meaning.

She took his hand, as she had done so frequently recently, and looked up into his eyes. She would ask no more about it. She knew he would speak to her if and when he wanted to. But she wished to reassure him. "It's alright. Everything. I will make sure it is all alright."

He smiled slightly, avoiding her eyes, then led her out of the room.

He remained very quiet. Hermione forced herself to ignore it, but it disturbed her nevertheless. She wasn't sure what to suggest and approached him tentatively. "When I've dressed I'm going for a walk. Will you show me the estate? It seems strange; I've hardly seen any of it."

He said nothing, but looked intently at her, his eyes searching her face for something, she knew not what.

"Yes," he spoke at length. "I need to get out of here for a while."

She shivered slightly as the water evaporated off her skin, and smiling up at him, moved past him to go and dress. He abruptly reached out his hand and held her wrist, preventing her from moving. "Don't be long," he said softly but urgently.

"No," she assured him. He released her wrist and she hurried upstairs, showering and dressing rapidly.

She went downstairs to find him standing almost impatiently in the hallway. As soon as she arrived he placed his hand on her back and guided her out of the house.

He walked purposefully, slightly ahead of her. The grounds of the Manor were beautiful and Hermione tried to stop to appreciate the plants and views every so often, but found him constantly striding ahead of her. It grew increasingly frustrating and she eventually stopped dead, refusing to move. "Lucius!" she called after him. "I thought we were going for a walk together."

He stopped ahead of her, not turning round for a while. Then slowly he turned and stretched his hand out towards her, indicating for her to join him. She did not move. Eventually he walked slowly back to her. When he reached her, he sighed a little and smiled down at her. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm a little distracted."

She lowered her head, feeling ashamed. It was hardly surprising that he should be feeling disturbed. He placed his hand under her chin and raised her head to look at him. "Come. I promise to be better company from now on."

She smiled. "You don't have to be. It's silly of me ... I don't expect anything ... don't worry."

They continued walking gently, Lucius occasionally pointing out features and significant parts of the estate. Hermione was staggered by its scope and loveliness. How could people so apparently narrow-minded, bigoted and nominally evil have been responsible for such beauty?

At length they came to a bench overlooking a hill, stretching down to a valley with a stream running through it. Lucius sat first and Hermione lowered herself slowly to join him.

"I suppose all this must be so familiar to you. You must know it like the back of your hand."

"No."

She turned to look at him in surprise. He continued. "Well, I used to ... when I was very young, but after ..." He sighed deeply. She knew what he was referring to. "After that ... I hardly ever walked in the grounds. Narcissa and Draco never cared for it. They always wanted to be visiting friends, up in London, anywhere but here ..."

"But it's so beautiful here. It is so nourishing."

He chuckled slightly to himself.

She glanced up at him, slightly annoyed by his reaction. "What is it? I mean it."

"I know you do. I'm not laughing at you. It's just so strange to hear words like that about this place. Especially from you. You, who more than anyone, have the right to hate and despise it and everything it stands for. And Draco today ... he reminded me of how I have failed once again. However I develop, he remains. He will inherit this place and bring with him all his anger and prejudice and insularity."

"Lucius ... family is everything. Whatever Draco is, he is still your son, and this place rightfully will pass to him. He will respect it, I am sure. You have done a wonderful job with it, clearly, through your entire life, as did your father before you."

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, raising himself up and tensing. She frowned in concerned query. He spoke low but seriously.

"I do not wish you to speak any more. You shame me with your words."

She lowered her head, hurt by what he had said. She stood up abruptly and moved away from him, then turned back, speaking forcefully. "Do not be afraid to move on, Lucius. The Gryffindor in you will help with that." She moved away once again, then stopped a further time to speak. "As will the Gryffindor over here."

She started to walk down the hill, leaving him to his contemplation on the bench.

She had gone only a few yards when he hurried after her, catching her and spinning her around to him, the force of it winding her. He grasped her head in his hands, covering her face, her hair, her neck with kisses. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."

She gasped with astonishment, trying to meet his eyes to reassure him. But he merely continued holding and kissing her, his lips absorbing the tears now covering her cheeks.

Slowly they lowered each other to the thick grass. The verdant scent of it filled her nostrils, heightening her senses. They undressed each other as much as possible, but their mutual need to connect prevented a full removal of their clothes. He reached down to her, feeling her wet for him already and he quickly entered her, both of them moaning in gratification. She was once again staggered by his size and ability to fill her so completely. They moved together in the grass, clasped tightly and still kissing deeply and urgently. It wasn't long before they both came, their ecstasy intensified by the vibrant colours, textures and smells around them.

They lay in the grass for a long time afterwards, gently soothing and caressing each other. Then a large cloud moved over them and a few drops of hot, heavy summer rain fell upon them. They raised themselves rapidly and ran back to the house as it grew ever more incessant. By the time they reached the Manor they were both soaking.

They rushed into the hallway, dripping onto the oak floor. Hermione threw her head back and laughed, dispersing any remaining tension. He once again clasped her to him, then reached down and swept her into his arms, so familiarly now, carrying her rapidly up the stairs and along the corridor to their room. He kicked the door open unceremoniously and threw her down on the bed. This time his passion and need was undeniable. He ripped desperately at her wet clothes, tearing them off her body. She reached for his own clothes, struggling to expose his wet flesh. He helped her urgently and finally they were naked, their bodies still moist from the downpour.

She burned for him and stretched herself out for him on the bed, writhing and moaning incoherently into the air. The noise startled her somewhat and she turned her head into the bedclothes, stifling her cries and rubbing her skin against the silks and velvets that lay under her. After his eyes had swept along her body, taking in the exquisite sight before him, he lowered himself rapidly onto her. Her skin was alive with the evaporating water and feel of his hands as they quested over her. He lowered his head and sought down, down, until his mouth connected suddenly with her clit. It caused her to jolt up to him. She had not expected to feel him there so soon. He did not take his mouth away, seemed desperate to taste and inhale her essence. He licked and sucked mercilessly, while one hand came up to find her nipple, rubbing and pinching it hard. His violent passion took her by surprise, but merely inflamed her, the desperate ache in her belly seemed to spread throughout her body and she craved release.

She felt two fingers suddenly and painfully inserted in her arse and she arched to meet them. The pain they elicited merely added to her desperate need for him. His hot mouth encircled her clit fully and he sucked forcefully, his teeth finding it too. At the same time the hand at her nipple twisted hard. She came viciously, screaming in agonised ecstasy as her body spasmed violently, the waves crashing through her time and time again. "Lucius! God, Lucius!" Her cry of his name cut through the thick air around them.

He gave her no time to recover, raising himself up to her. She opened her eyes and took in the sight of his huge, iron cock jutting straight out to meet her. It was exquisite. He hissed out brutally to her, "Take it, now, witch ... take it!" She opened her mouth just in time for him to plunge deep down into her. He hit her throat almost immediately, causing her to choke slightly. A groan of triumph escaped him. He pulled back out, allowing her a brief moment to recover before plunging back in even deeper than before. She looked up at him.

He spoke from somewhere deep in his psyche, words she could only just distinguish, but the impact of them undeniable, "Hermione ... cleanse me ... need you to cleanse me ..."

She groaned her compliance around him, and the sound and feel of it caused a further agonised cry of need from him.

He forced himself to look at himself disappearing into her mouth, but his eyes were glazed and she knew he was finding it hard to focus. He continued assaulting her mouth, but she relaxed and welcomed him with every stroke, her own ardour and tolerance astounding them both. Then suddenly, just as she thought he would come, he pulled out and rolled her over brutally once again.

He drew her up onto her knees before him and positioned himself before her vagina. Then he suddenly stopped, paused. She felt the steely head of his cock move up. She tensed, but the anticipation sent an undeniable thrill through her.

She heard him swiftly reach for something and felt a viscous substance smeared around her tight anal opening. She pulled in a rasping breath and relaxed herself as much as she could. She knew he was not in the mood to go easy.

He breathed in deep through his nose, girding himself, then thrust hard, half his length filling her immediately, brutally pushing past her ring of resistance. She cried out in pain, but the feeling warped instantly into a delicious burning which spread from his emplacement in her through her entire body. She heard her voice, almost detached from itself, "Yes ... more ... yes ..."

He groaned ecstatically at her words and the sight of her impaled on him, and pulled back, only to thrust in again, almost to the hilt. Once again a cry of pain escaped her. The sound did not make him hesitate. He knew her too well now, knew what she was capable of, knew what she needed – this need to possess and be possessed so completely by him. It was their life-force.

He withdrew almost fully, then again plunged back into her, this time all the way. She screamed in agony and ecstasy, moaning his name over and over deliriously, urging him on, begging him not to stop. He didn't think he ever could. He groaned deliriously into the room, "Hermione ... fuck ... Hermione ...so perfect ... my ... perfect ..."

He moved steadily and urgently now, stroking his full length in and out of her tightest, most sacred passage. His hand came under her, finding her clit, stroking along her folds, reaching into her snatch to draw out her sweet wetness then up again, to the perfect spot. This, combined with the burning agonised delirium his cock was drawing from her was the end.

Her voice became inhuman and a scream of the deepest fulfilment was ripped from her. Her whole being shook ecstatically around him, over and over, she felt her orgasm would never end. It was his undoing. The feeling of her tightness around his cock and the sight of her delirious spasms sent him over the edge. He spurted up into her, shoot after shoot hitting her deep inside. Another unearthly cry filled the room, torn from his throat as his head fell back.

They remained together, small spasms gripping them for what seemed like minutes afterwards. He didn't think he could ever withdraw from her, but his legs felt like jelly, as did hers. When at last he softened slightly, he pulled out gently, at last tenderness guiding his actions, and lay beside her, panting with exhaustion.

"Every time I come inside you, I feel a little more distanced from my past."

She frowned slightly in query. "Is that a good thing?"

He merely sighed deeply in response.

Hermione raised herself onto her elbows, leaning over him and looking directly into his eyes. "I told you before, Lucius. I love you completely – what you are and what you have been. I don't want that to change. You can learn from your past, but it still informs who you are, it has still made you who you are now. You must not be ashamed of it."

He looked at her, not responding, but his silence told her how significant her words were. She continued.

"I am not ashamed of it. And I confess – that side of you is what makes you so ... constantly desirable. That time in the park ... I would have died if I couldn't have had you right then. And just now ... the pain, the pleasure ... it is indistinguishable ... I need that reminder of who you were, are ... who I am. When I am near you, I am in a nearly permanent state of arousal. And I never stop to question it. It is just who we are. I want all of you, all of the time. You are the mirror of my soul. Through you I seek all that life has to offer: joy, pleasure, anguish, mirth, deceit, pain, delight, fear ... I have never been so in touch with life. I have never felt so much – sometimes I think I have transcended being merely human. You have done that.

"I set out to understand you, Lucius, but I realise I don't have to ... I don't even want to anymore, as long as you remain."

He stayed quiet, looking up at her gently for the longest time, stroking her hair out of her face, which he did when contemplating her tenderly. After a while he spoke. "You set out to understand me?"

"Hmm," she confirmed.

A smile tweaked the corner of his mouth. "Why?"

"You know me. I never could resist an intellectual challenge."

"Is that what I am – an intellectual challenge?" He raised an eyebrow.

She sighed, realising that she had never really explained the reasons for her behaviour to him, or to herself for that matter.

"When I first saw you, in Flourish and Blotts that time ... do you remember?"

"How could I forget? ... I have told you."

She remembered their conversation of some weeks before. "Of course," she smiled. "It's just now I'm thinking of it from my point of view ... It was horrible. I had hoped never to see any Malfoy again, I admit. And then suddenly and unexpectedly, there was Draco. That was bad enough. All the memories came back ... fear, pain, desolation ... encapsulated in him. I thought I would pass out. Only one thing could make it worse ... and as I was trying to get away I bumped into that one thing."

She paused, lying down onto his chest and inhaling deeply, that same smell of musk and spice coming to her so profoundly again – the same scent that had assaulted her senses and mind that day. How different the circumstances now. He reached down to her arm and stroked up and down, staring up at the ceiling.

"At first I was overwhelmed. The sight of you, the feel of you, the smell of you ... sent me straight back to that place ... the agony ... I didn't think I would ever be able to move again from that spot, clinging onto you as if grasping something red hot – seared onto it through the burn ... through the pain. I heard my own screams, piercing my soul ... it was horrific ..."

"I know."

She sighed deeply again, the memory of that time reminding her of how she used to feel about him. She continued swiftly.

"Anyway, I recovered, eventually, but I couldn't shake the memory of you, and ... it had changed ... there was no more pain, no more fear ... but you were there, in my head, as much as I tried to pretend otherwise, and ... something had been awakened ... something latent, which ...I had denied for too long; hiding behind books, behind my reputation, my past, behind Ron ... I had forgotten how to live. And you ... your assault on my emotions ... triggered this ... coming to life ... it was terrifying, but ... extraordinary.

"And then the opera ... I tried so hard to pretend, to carry on as normal ... being indignant at your presence ... I couldn't cope ... I nearly fainted ..."

"Yes. I do recall that moment rather vividly, as you well know." A slight hint of teasing sarcasm.

She exhaled a slight laugh. "Yes ... How did you know I was there on the stairs? There were hundreds of people there. How were you in exactly the right place at the right time?"

"You needed me."

She smiled. Had their almost telepathic bond existed even then? But he continued. "I followed your every move. I could not prevent myself. I watched your outburst at Shacklebolt. I watched you struggle through the crowds, your eyes glazing. I knew exactly what would happen."

"I wanted you so much. I thought after that night ... I would die ... but I was so confused ... there was Ron ... my job ... it made no sense ... but you ... I couldn't deny you anymore and I dealt with it in the only way I understood, by trying to rationalise it ... I had to work out why I was feeling the way I was ... if I understood you, I would understand myself. And the very next day, Kingsley gave me the task of tutoring you." She laughed out loud at the memory of it. "Such euphoria ..."

"And have you ... rationalised me, Miss Granger?"

She giggled against his chest and raised herself up once again to look at him. "I have concluded, Mr Malfoy, that rationalising one's life is as boring as fuck."

He smiled at her, before drawling, "I don't think our fucks are particularly boring."

She reached up and whacked him firmly across his solid belly. He let out a slight mock-pained grunt and chuckled slightly, tightening his grip on her.

They lay quietly for a long while, smoothing each other's skin with the tips of their fingers. Then Hermione broke the silence.

"I want you to take me to that room."

He's a man of paradoxes, our Lucius ... but then, that's what makes life interesting ... I think Hermione's got that figured out.

Review if you care to. Thank you all so much!

Until tomorrow x (may be a bit later tomorrow)