January 14th

"I told you, I already made my decision", Hermione said, forcing out a smile.

Lucius's face was frozen in an unbelieving expression, and she almost counted the seconds as she waited for his reaction.

She had chosen her words carefully, unwilling to outright lie to him even though she had willfully made him believe she was leaving. It had been a highly dangerous game. Not only because he was sure to be angry once he realised what she had done, but most of all because she'd barely been able to go trough with it. The look upon his face when he first noticed the bags might have been missed by anyone else, hidden as it was by that mask of indifference, but it had been enough to shake her resolve and fill her with guilt. She hated lying!

She hadn't seen any other way, however. She had recalled the way he'd sobered up temporarily last autumn when she'd threatened to go stay at Harry's and Ginny's place, and was desperate enough to try anything to get him to listen. That had been her primary goal: for him to actually listen... But instead, she'd risked pushing him away. At one point, when she'd told him about her nightmares, he'd actually been about to leave.

Well... That's a good thing, isn't it? Her mother's words kept repeating themselves within her, but now she knew the answer: No.

Hermione had come to the realisation that she had never truly doubted him. She'd knew perfectly well what he was - the good and the bad, his strengths and weaknesses, the things that annoyed her and the things that made her marvel. But everything that had happened had gradually started playing with her brain.

Whoever had attacked them had been extremely clever about it. The attacks using Lucius's wand had triggered him to alienate himself from her. And her so-called dreams had increased that distance. Their enemy had almost succeeded in dividing them, which must have been the object, and Hermione was ashamed to say that when things were the worst, she had not only started to doubt herself but also him.

But she knew what Lucius was. And she did not want him to leave. Ever.

But now, when her deception was revealed, she could only wait as the seconds ticked by and all Lucius did was stare at her. She bit her lip nervously, waiting for his reaction.

"You didn't even pack?" he finally asked, still on his knees by the bags. His white shirt was still wet with her tears, and his eyes were red, his eyelashes clinging together.

"I'm not leaving."

Before Hermione could react, before the words were even fully out of her mouth, Lucius was suddenly on his feet. She flinched, thinking he would yell at her - or perhaps storm out of the room. But then he was before her, pulling her up from the bed. With a gasp, she found herself crushed against his chest.

Lucius's hands frantically moved along her arms, her neck, her waist - anywhere he could reach - to pull her closer. His hands were shaking, but firm as if he feared she would pull back. Hermione clung to him as best she could, however, wrapping her arms around his back as fresh tears began to run down her cheeks.

"Say it again", Lucius whispered.

"I'm not leaving", she repeated firmly though her voice was a little weak.

Lucius let out a shuddering breath. He grasped her face with both his hands, tilting it upwards so that she looked at him.

"You're not leaving?" he asked with eyes shining brightly, like newly polished silver.

Hermione shook her head as best she could, given that Lucius still held her in place. "I won't leave you, Lucius. I love you."

Slowly, oh so slowly, he lowered his face to hers. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed and then she finally felt his lips softy brush against hers. Too soft, too little. She whimpered, and used his arms for support to stand on her tip toes. Their lips met more fully, and soon, the kiss grew more insistent.

She felt Lucius's hands move up and down along her back, her hips, her waist. Everywhere his hands went, her skin tingled with joy, and was left wanting for more when they moved on. His fingers brushed her neck, wove into the tresses of her hair, and when he finally broke the kiss, there was so much emotion in his eyes: relief, love, joy, and desire - that Hermione abruptly reached up and pulled his face back down.

Lucius responded fiercely to her kiss - until he tried to pull her even closer and found that her belly was in the way. He broke away with wide eyes. "What if I-" he started.

Hermione held onto his arms, as if she could somehow physically keep him from running away. If her wand was within reach, she might even have considered hexing him into place if necessary.

"I want you", she pleaded.

"But what if - There are still things -" he stammered. "What if you - I couldn't - If -"

"I don't care", Hermione shook her head, pausing for a moment before asking hesitantly: "Unless you are leaving?"

Lucius stared at her. "Why in Merlin's name would I leave?"

Hermione shrugged, biting her lip. "Because I tricked you?" she suggested guiltily. "Because I didn't tell you about those dreams?"

Hermione looked at the man before her. His eyes were mesmerizing, shimmering like liquid silver under the flickering lights. His clothes and hair were a little untidy, his body firm and strong under her fingertips. In her eyes, he was the very image of male perfection. Dangerous and caring, dignified and humble, handsome and dishevelled. It filled her with an odd feeling of excitement mixed with sadness. Becauseknew that she no longer had the looks to deserve him.

Lucius tightened his grip on her. "No", he said fiercely. "I'm not leaving."

Hermione's insides fluttered pleasantly, and she released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Say it again", she whispered.

"I'm not leaving", he vowed.

"All right, then", she said. Taking a deep breath, Hermione took a step back from him so that she could support herself on their bed and began peeling off her stockings.

"What are you doing?" Lucius asked with a hungry but wary look in his eyes.

Hermione lifted her wool dress over her head and threw it to the floor with the other things. The air felt chilly against her exposed skin and made her long for the warmth of his body even more.

"Hermione", Lucius warned in a pained voice. "Do you really think it's a good -"

Hermione took off her bra, and his voice left him. She felt her lips twitch at his reaction, but before she could start pulling her knickers off, Lucius's hands were on her hips, stopping her. He inhaled sharply at the contact, and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm not leaving", Hermione said in a serious tone. "But neither am I prepared to go back to keeping a distance."

Lucius seemed to be waging a war inside. His eyes remained closed and his hands rested firmly on her hips, allowing her neither to get closer or farther away. Her heart beat quickly within her as she waited, burning to touch him.

"What do you want, Lucius?" she asked softly, when he still hadn't moved.

A shiver passed over him, and a moment later, he slowly opened his eyes.

"You", he said. "I need you."

And with that, his fingers were suddenly pulling her knickers down her legs. Once she had stepped out of them, Lucius took a step back to look at her. Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She was fairly assured he wanted her, but that didn't stop her from feeling a little self-conscious.

She knew full well what he would see. Her body had changed dramatically: her ankles were thick, her thighs wider than they were. The hollow of her back was more pronounced, her belly was more protruding than she could ever have imagined it would be and had a dark line down the middle. Her hair had managed to become even more untamable, and she had overall gained several stones in weight.

"How did you become even more beautiful?" he breathed.

Lucius couldn't stop his eyes from roaming over her body. So plump, so temptingly soft and alluring. Her full breasts, her wide hips, her warm skin... Her unique scent... Her rounded belly, carrying his child. She was so beautiful, so tempting, so devastatingly sexy it was almost painful.

And she was his. Still his.

The last remnants of restraint left him then, and he gave in. She wanted him, and by Salazar, he thought he might actually die if he could not have her. He crushed his lips against hers, his tongue battling with hers as she threw her naked arms around his neck and met him willingly. Finally, he dared to believe her, at least for a moment: that she was his even though there were still secrets to tell.

She was his. His witch. His life. His Hermione.

Somehow, they got his clothes off him and got back onto the bed, where Hermione settled down on her side so that she would be comfortable, while he was very comfortable hovering over her from behind. He couldn't stop caressing her, every piece of her, nipping and kissing her skin as he went on. And she in turn drove him nearly insane with feather light caresses across his shoulder and chest and with her possessive kisses. She had never before kissed him quite like this.

Lucius clenched his jaw at the sound of Hermione's gasp, elicited by one of his hands - the one that had at last found its way down between her thighs. He relished in being able to touch her in the very places he knew would further ignite her, and soon, he was rewarded with her moans of pleasure. All he could see, think, touch, feel, taste, hear - all was her. And soon, he found that she could do nothing but to clutch his free arm and the sheets as she whimpered in pleasure.

"Say it again", he murmured.

In answer, a stream of words and half-finished sentences broke from her lips. She would never leave him, she loved him, she'd longed for him... And he was not, for all the galleons in Gringott's, allowed to stop what he was doing.

When she appeared nothing but a melting, alluring mess in his arms and by the sound of her, she was close to her climax, he shifted behind her. Gently, he pushed himself inside her, growling quietly to himself. It was such an exquisite feeling, to feel her wet walls press against him, that the excercise of restraint was not only a matter of lingering fear of hurting her but also of stopping himself from coming immediately.

Hermione moaned when he slowly began to move, but suddenly, she startled him by twisting and turning in his arms.

"I need to see you", she rasped out.

Her eyes were bright, and he got the impression that her mind was somehow both singularly focused and utterly scattered. She sat up and pushed him down, manouvring so that she was straddling him. Her eyes never left his as she sunk down on top of him, moaning deeply as he filled her up. She braced herself on his chest, taking it upon herself to set a rhythm, while his hands caressed every part of her that he could reach.

It was as if Lucius had woken up from slumber, only to find himself standing at the utmost edge of a cliff, having been saved from tumbling down into destruction and desperate to assure himself that he was standing on firm ground. She was his ground. She was his cliff. She was his abyss and his heaven. Yes, she was pure heaven.

When both had reached their pinnacle and tumbled back down to earth together, they laid on their sides, facing each other. Lucius, however, felt as if he was nowhere near earth. He was still high – high on the relief that had flooded him, in spite of all the debris it had swept with it and that chafed at his insides. High on her proximity. High on her professions of love and on making love.

He drew patterns on Hermione's skin, noticing each new freckle and change to her body. She played with a strand of his hair with a an enigmatic smile, her cheeks flushed and her eyes vividly golden. Her other hand was resting on her belly and after observing her for a while, Lucius noticed subtle movements from within. His hand drifted down, and soon, he felt the insistent kicks under his palm.

"Hello, my dear", he murmured to their baby, making Hermione's smile widen. He met her gaze, and added to them both: "I'm sorry. I promise to be here for you from now on."

They eventually got up from bed, and dressed while casting sly glances at each other. It wasn't until Lucius caught sight of the bags, still sitting on the floor next to the bed, that he began to sober up. Though open and empty, they still seemed to warn him that there were things that remained unresolved. Secrets that still had to be told.

Soon, Hermione was before him, taking his face into her hands with a somber and yet tender expression in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I tricked you", she mumbled.

"I pushed you to it." Lucius said. He couldn't find it within him to be angry.

"Why did it have to go this far?" she asked sadly, searching his eyes. "Why couldn't we just talk about it?"

Lucius closed his eyes, struggling with himself. He had to tell her. But if he told her, perhaps that would prove to be the final straw that made her change her mind?

He wanted those bags to remain empty. He wanted her to never have reason to retract her promise not to leave. And the only way to accomplish that was by telling her everything.

"The attacks played their part", he began, taking a step away from her, and getting her to sit down on the chair he had previously occupied. "I felt that I had good reason to be cautious, to lock you up - I didn't want to listen because I knew you might argue."

He paused and glanced down to see if she was listening. She was, she seemed to hang on every word he spoke, and guilt rushed over him - he should have just told her from the start.

"But -" he forced himself to continue, "I would likely have been almost as difficult about our pregnancy without them. What Narcissa told you - about children -"

"Yes?"

"I -" he started, shaking his head. How could this be so difficult?

Lie, a voice pleaded within him. Don't tell her. She won't forgive you. Don't answer.

"I am cursed", he choked out.

Are you guys still with me?