"Mrs. Astoria Malfoy is here to see you, Madam Undersecretary."
"Send her in, please."
Hermione smiled and relaxed back on her desk chair. Since the beginning of her political career, Astoria had turned out to be an unexpected and invaluable ally.
"Good morning, Madam Undersecretary."
"You need to call me Hermione. It helps me relax. You know I hate talking about political fundraising," the curly witch said, letting the beautiful brunette kiss her cheeks.
"Come on; it is fun to be chummy with the most powerful witch in Britain. My parents spent their lives trying to make me into a trophy wife. It turned out I like being a kingmaker. I'm getting you elected Minister of Magic and making sure this country doesn't fall back into pureblood bullshit."
Hermione chuckled.
"You know, I always thought it was unfair Draco was lucky enough to get you. But then you pull a stunt like this, and I start suspecting you have a punishment room in the basement. Now I feel bad for him."
"Oh, don't feel bad," the Slytherin beauty waved a dismissive hand. "He likes it. Speaking of punishment, I'm here to talk about injecting some more Malfoy money into your campaign."
"You have already put a lot of it in. Save some inheritance for your son."
"Oh, honey, no, I'm talking about real Malfoy money, the old kind. I think we should squeeze my father-in-law for a few million galleons. He can spare them."
Hermione smirked and shook her head.
"Redeemed as he may be, I doubt Lucius Malfoy would ever put money behind a muggleborn's campaign for the Ministry of Magic."
"Wrong," Astoria said. "Lucius will always put money wherever he thinks he can gain leverage. He's been starving for some power plays since Minister Shacklebolt keeps him at arm's length. These days, it doesn't take much for him to feel needed. He will stand behind whoever doesn't treat him like he's cover in manure. Besides, you have something else that he craves."
Hermione didn't feel too comfortable with the conversation anymore, but she had to ask.
"What?"
Astoria gave a naughty smile.
"You are a beautiful, single woman. Lucius has been a lonely widower for too long now. The loss of Narcissa was a shock for all of us, but he is still a virile, handsome man."
"You can't be serious!" Hermione almost shouted. Astoria gestured for her to calm down.
"Hear me out: just have lunch with him at the beach house. The fact that you will visit him will be enough for him to feel important, even if you do not ask for anything. And if you look gorgeous, he will offer you a blank check. Trust me. He just needs a little bit of excitement in his idle life."
Hermione shook her head.
"I can't trust him, Astoria. He tried to hurt me when I was a child."
"Then use that. Tell him how you feel and that if he wants to be part of your campaign, he has to drink veritaserum. Or take an unbreakable vow."
"That's a bit extreme," Hermione said, eyebrows shutting up.
Astoria shrugged.
"Lucius is an ex-Death Eater. Even if he was a particularly pathetic one, it gives you some leverage you will want to use."
A few days later, Hermione stood in front of the floo, taking deep breaths. Astoria had set a lunch appointment for her at the Malfoy beach house. The Aurors had already checked the place. Now, it was time for politics. She called the location and walked into the fire.
When she walked out, a house-elf was bowing very low.
"Madam Undersecretary is welcome to the house of Malfoy. Master Lucius is waiting for you in the dining room."
Hermione followed the elf. When she entered the dining room, Lucius stood up, sauntered toward her, and took her hand to kiss it.
"Madam Undersecretary. Welcome to my humble abode. I appreciate you honoring me with your time."
"Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for your kind invitation," Hermione said, looking at the older wizard's face.
He hadn't aged at all. His face was still an unreadable mask, but his grey eyes did travel up and down the witch's figure. Instead of robes, the Undersecretary had chosen to wear a wrap dress with ¾ sleeves, so she was covered, but the beautiful shape of her body was on display. Maybe Astoria was right, and the Malfoy patriarch was feeling lonely.
He pulled a chair for her, and they sat for a pleasant lunch. Hermione decided to stir the conversation by asking about his experience with political campaigns. Lucius surely kept to himself a lot of tales of bribery and foul play, but in the end, he was an experienced lobbyist, so there was a lot for her to learn. And it didn't escape her notice how much he shined when he felt in charge, so she allowed it. In the end, she had no plans of offering anything except for acknowledging his monetary support if the subject was ever brought up by the press. Handled correctly, that kind of information was campaign gold: the repentant ex Death Eater humbling himself in front of the forgiving war heroine.
At the end of the meal, Lucius invited her to move to the library for brandy. She accepted but played her card.
"Mr. Malfoy, you understand I have my reservations about letting you join my campaign. Unless you are willing to give me proof of your intentions," she said, putting a small vial of veritaserum on the coffee table.
The man didn't even blink. He knew it was coming. If Lucius Malfoy wanted to be part of Britain's political arena, it would be under Hermione Granger's terms. He gestured toward his glass. She let two drops fall on it. He lifted the glass and downed it in one sip.
"Ask away, Madam Undersecretary." He thought she would ask about his intentions, and they were shrewd, but not corrupt. Not this time.
"Mr. Malfoy, what do you think about me? Personally?"
Lucius went pale. He was not expecting that line of questioning. This was beyond politics. The truth started itching on his tongue, even though he didn't think it was in his best interest to answer. The veritaserum made him hurt, and he had no choice but to respond:
"You are exquisite. I thought I would never desire a woman again the way I used to do with my late wife. But then you grew into the most spectacular, desirable witch in all of Britain. I know you are brilliant and will make an outstanding minister. But more than anything, I want you. I want you in my bed. I want you for myself."
The blonde wizard stood up and walked toward the floor to ceiling windows, feeling embarrassed. Hermione sat there, frozen. Even with Astoria's warning, this was beyond what she could have thought. A thousand thoughts run through her head. Memories from the war. His pitiful state toward the end, when he was all but waiting for Voldemort to kill him and his family. The trials. His defeated expression the day she oversaw his release from Azkaban after a five-year sentence. Narcissa's funeral. The few times she saw him after that, he was a shadow of his former self.
But today it was different. The veritaserum had brought up some of Lucius' former persona, the man who knew what he wanted and went for it. Except for this time, it was not money or even power that he craved. It was her. She had not felt that kind of desire in a long time. Young wizards resented her power and importance. Her sex life had been non-existent for at least two years. And there was something about the power play happening here that woke up needs she had shut in the back of her mind.
"Make an unbreakable vow," Hermione said, standing up.
Lucius turned around; piercing eyes fixed on her. "In exchange for what, Madam?"
"Getting what you desire," she replied, extending her arm.
He took the offered forearm and performed the vow. When the green string of light sealed inside his skin, he pulled the witch to him and kissed her full on the mouth.
They stumbled their way to a chaise-longue, where Lucius reclined her and then proceeded to explore her body inch by inch with the patience of a man that knows that pleasing a woman unlocks the gates of paradise.
A while later, he was naked, sated, curled with his head over her chest. She ran her fingers through his silky hair. This was unexpected and strange, yet it was the most erotic moment of her life. His deep voice broke the silence.
"I will put two of the Malfoy vaults to your name. One for your campaign and one for your personal use."
Hermione's voice came out sharp:
"I am not a whore, Lucius. I won't take your money, not even for the campaign. I do not want it."
He looked at her with pleading eyes.
"I do not know how to love any other way," he lamented, ashamed.
"You could learn," she answered softly.