She stood frozen, feeling his low voice against her skin, as much as hearing it. She was surrounded by sounds and people – music, shuffling, cheers and drinking, but that didn't help. Desperately, she struggled to ignore the warmth radiating from his hand, that rested dangerously low on her back, and the pleasant tingling in her skin that came with it.

"Are you insane?" she hissed. "I don't even like you."

"That is what will make it so much better."

"That I hate you?"

He leaned closer, whispering: "That it is forbidden."

Hermione shuddered. Or did she tremble? She was not certain. He was so close, and she seemed to have mesmerized.

He continued in a low velvety voice: "You are much too... young..." he finally settled.

"You're the one who is old," she objected.

He shrugged. "Not terribly so. I was young when Draco came along."

Hermione shuddered again, but he continued leisurely as if she hadn't interrupted him, allowing his thumb to graze the side of her waist: "…too good..."

"You're evil", she retorted.

"Don't be melodramatic", he huffed and then continued: "...too inexperienced."

"And you think you can show me something I haven't seen before?" she said with forced confidence, willing her pounding heart to calm down. His fingers began to make scribbles at the end of her back, now and then venturing over that invisible line but not long enough for her to react.

He smirked. "Oh, I am sure I can, Miss Granger."

"And my blood?"

He didn't even flinch. "I too have learned a thing or two in recent years," he said. "I may despise your opinions, your politics, your manners... but nothing about your physique is repellent to me. In any way."

He enjoyed teasing her. She was so easy to read. The fire of indignation in her eyes when he knowingly insulted her. Her trembling at his very touch. The way the muscles in her back relaxed when he did not take the bait she threw at him. He could practically feel her heart beat reverberating though her body, increasing each time he breathed even the slightest hint of his desire for her. For they were hints only – underneath his cool expression, he was burning.

Her eyes, that so far had mostly tried to shrink from his sight, suddenly turned to his. He had been leaning down to speak in her year, and the sudden shift placed their mouths just an inch or so from each other. He held her gaze, swallowing her scent. Resisted the urge to close the distance.

But her eyes were not focused on his lips, but searching his eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked.

He chuckled. Down to negotiations already, are we?

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"Never enter into a deal without knowing what's on the table", he stated. "Good girl, Miss Granger. Very slytherin of you." His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but before she could recoil or speak, he silenced her with a finger on her lips, whispering words for only her to hear: "I want this night. With you. For hours with no end."

He suddenly lowered the hand that was on her back and, clasping her bottom, made her yelp and stumble closer to him. She now stood all but pressed against him, breathing him in, staring at him with equal shares of fear and excitement.

"Let us see if this forbidden fruit is truly as tasteful as it is pleasing to the eye," he said.

She swallowed. "It rarely is."

Her words were brave, but he could tell from the look in her eyes that she craved more. Good. He was tired of restraint. He backed away and offered her his hand. After but a second of hesitation, she took it. Her hand was small and warm and smooth. He wanted to taste it, but deemed that too improper for the bar. They were lucky no one had noticed them yet.

Without a word, he turned and pulled her along outside, not stopping as she waved her wand to collect the jacket that somehow had been discarded beside them. Once outside, he again turned on her, trapping her between him and a brick wall. She swallowed, and he saw her eyes moving down to his lips. He leaned in, letting her know by the dangerous glint in his eyes that she was now entirely at his mercy. And Merlin, she wanted to be! He snaked a hand behind her back.

The next moment, a loud crack was heard, and they were gone.


They landed just inside the door of his apartment as if they hadn't moved at all. Her back was now pressed against the smooth wooden surface of a door instead of the raw brick wall, her eyes closed, breathing rushed. His one hand held her waist in a firm grip, the other was resting at the back of her neck, preventing her from hitting her head against the wood. Slowly he eased his hands away, placing one after the other against the door on each side of her face.

He watched her hungrily as she opened her eyes. She swallowed, and he felt a rush of excitement when he saw the evident desire in her eyes and expression. She was so close, but he wanted closer still. He leaned in, intent on claiming her lips.

But before he could react, the witch took one look around the hallway, glimpsing the inner parts of his flat, and when she looked back at him her eyes were full of fear. Cursing internally, he made to touch her, but caught nothing but thin air where her body had just been. With a crack, she was gone.

Lucius growled and hit the wooden door with frustration. For a moment he stood there, allowing his anger, disappointment and humiliation to wash over him. So much for Gryffindor courage and honouring your word. With a low thud he allowed his forehead to hit the door. She was gone. What now?

Minutes ticked by as he mulled over his options and his wishes. Finally, he heaved himself off the wall and cracked a sinister smile. She was afraid, of course she was. She had no reason to trust him, and though he quite liked it that way, it also was also the key to understanding her choice to flee.

But also, and this was significant: she was not only afraid of him, but of herself. She had followed him home. There was a reason for that. The truth was that she was drawn to him, and for a moment he enjoyed the mental image of her panting away somewhere, trying desperately not to think of him and yet doing nothing else.

He had made his decision. He would allow her a few days of private torture, before he went after her. He would taste her yet and make her pay for her disobedience.

Plan firmly in place, he went to take care of the more pressing problem she had left behind in the form of an unpleasant tightness in his trousers. But as he turned to leave, something on the floor caught his eye. Curiously, he lifted it up.

Touching it, he felt a trickle of magic. He examined it with astonished curiosity and suddenly, his eyes glittered with the pleasure of a hunter who has caught a trail. Well, isn't this convenient? He could certainly work with this. He smirked. She really had no idea what she had gotten herself into.