Title: Venting
Author: HomiSidle
Disclaimers: Um, yes, I own Lucius Malfoy. No wait, I just wish I did. This pairing is wrong in so many ways, I don't know where to begin, but I like it all the same ^_^. Oh yes. That is all! Read n' review, please, it's my first HP fic. Thankie! Oh PS I don't know what colour Lucius' eyes are so I'm making them green. It's probably wrong but let's call it artistic licence. lol.

***

Hermione was always the first to class. The earliest arrival and the last to leave, and she prided herself on that fact. She never missed a lesson, not a moment of magical education was wasted on her. Hermione was brilliant, eager and studious. She was also terribly repressed.

It didn't help, being best friends with Harry Potter. He was the brave one, the one who always got into trouble but ended up saving the day, while everyone simply expected Hermione to be there to work out the puzzles, to solve the problems he and Ron couldn't. She was the brain, Harry was the brawn and Weasley was the comic relief. It had always been that way. Hermione rarely raised her wand.

So it ended up that there was an undiscovered fire coursing through her veins. Hermione Granger had so much unused energy, anger and passion that she was slowly driving herself mad. She ate and breathed her studies in an attempt to subdue the building power inside her, but she knew it wasn't working, and it was starting to show. She'd yelled at Ron viciously in the hallway one day and hadn't yet apologized, snapped at Professor McGonagall in front of the entire class and wasn't boasting about her phenomenal OWL results.

It was their sixth year at Hogwarts, and though it had only begun weeks ago she was already becoming exceedingly frazzled and temperamental. It hadn't helped any that their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was none other than Lucius Malfoy. It seemed it hadn't been a problem using his resources to help him out of the spot of trouble he was in with the Ministry of Magic, and he had even pulled several strings to be able to teach at Hogwarts. He wasn't qualified, he wasn't fair and he wasn't exactly helping Harry and Ron's GPA. He was one of the most horrible teachers Hermione had ever had.

So why was she the first in his class every morning?

Students were beginning to file in around her; she could see Harry and Ron entering from behind. At the front of the class, Professor Malfoy (it made Hermione shudder for some reason, addressing him like a teacher) stood surveying the students as if looking down on an anthill or some particularly vile piece of litter. He was a stupid git. Somehow, though, Hermione's intense hatred towards him allowed her to vent some of her pent- up anger. Lucius was a release. He was... therapeutic.

"Be seated, be seated," he said arrogantly, and Hermione could already feel a searing repulsion towards him. It felt incredible.

"Today, class, we will be reading from our textbooks, as we seem to have fallen behind... especially our dear Gryffindors," he continued, and Hermione's blood was boiling so hot she barely noticed when Lucius made a very pointed look in her direction.

She knew she was being irrational. She'd been in class maybe five minutes and she was already feeling aggravated and, well, bitchy. Something about Professor Malfoy brought out the worst in her. The most irritating part was that she liked it.

"Professor Malfoy," Hermione said before she could catch herself, "I was under the impression that, for the most part, Gryffindor was ahead of Slytherin in nearly every class."

Lucius snapped around to face her again, looking down at her as he always did, "Clearly you've been falling behind in your maths, Miss Granger, and I'd rather you not speak about what you don't understand in future."

He was taken aback, though, by Hermione's unwavering sneer. He'd expected her to look away, avoid his gaze, but there she was, staring into his green eyes with a fiery intensity. It was a moment before he realized that the entire class was staring at the two of them, and he pulled away and began to drawl about some hex he knew little about. For about twenty minutes, nothing much happened; he finished his monotonous speech and returned to his desk to watch the clock tick silently. He had no interest in teaching children how to defend themselves. He'd bought his way into the position to keep watch over Harry Potter, as he felt it was his duty to the Dark Lord. It was all just so boring.

As he milled over papers and files, he happened to glance back at Hermione, whose nose was buried deeply in her work. She looked distracted, though, and kept glancing in different directions as if trying to steady herself and concentrate. He was still shocked by her display in class. The mudblood had a backbone, he was quickly realizing. He wondered if her clueless friends had even realized the witch she was becoming.

Hermione felt a burning sensation on her forehead - someone was watching her. Not wanting to look up entirely and distract the others around her, her eyes glanced up slowly towards the front of the class. Professor Malfoy was glaring directly at her, his emerald eyes gleaming in the candlelit classroom. Hermione bent her head up just slightly so her eyes met his. He had a look of confused interest on his face. What was going on? When she looked at him she felt an overpowering surge of energy, anger, passion... Lucius Malfoy embodied all that she hated. Looking at him she didn't feel like a mousey brainiac, she felt like a fiery witch, powerful and menacing. He looked at her differently than her friends did, not with acceptance and tolerance, but with awe and fervour. He saw the anger in her. He made her feel alive.

"Psst, Hermione," Ron said, waking her from her trance, oblivious to the staring contest between her and her professor, "can you explain this bit about counter-hexes? I'm lost."

Reluctantly, she pulled away from his gaze and turned to Ron to explain the wordy paragraph. She couldn't think straight, though. This had been going on since the start of the school year, this standoff between her and Malfoy. She didn't understand it, and that frightened her, because Hermione normally understood everything right off. This was different.

Before she knew it, class had ended. The bushy-haired brunette put away her books and collected her quills, putting them haphazardly into her schoolbag. Ron and Harry had gotten ahead of her, as they'd taken nearly to running from Malfoy's classes. She knew his presence was affecting them negatively, but she'd been taking this nonsense from her friends for five years now, going on six. They became so emotional and overexcited about every little thing. She'd been like that too, once, but now she was starting to realize that she was maturing much faster than her male counterparts. Hermione was sixteen. Harry and Ron acted like they were still in second year, and had become paranoid about dark forces since Voldemort's return. She knew she probably should be, too, but her brain was already straining to sustain itself. The Dark Lord was nothing compared to studies, boys and puberty.

She was awakened from her jumbled thoughts once again by an ominous presence behind her. Hermione picked up her bag and turned around to find Professor Malfoy staring her down. She promptly realized that the classroom was empty - she'd been so lost in her thoughts she'd forgotten to change classes. Now she'd have to run to Arithmancy. She needed to get away from Lucius, but before she could stop herself, she was gazing into his eyes and was rooted to the spot by the power emanating from them. He was much taller than her, but their strength was equal. His long, gorgeous, shiny - *no, greasy and bleached,* Hermione reminded herself - hair was hanging about his face in a way that made her stomach knot. He was deliciously handsome.

*Still, Hermione, he's a stupid git. You can't think he's attractive. Don't get me started on why.*

"What is it, Professor," Hermione managed to choke out, not breaking her glare.

"Why is it, Miss Granger, that you've been staring at me all through class for the past week and a half?" He asked, leaning closer to her, which surprisingly didn't make her as uncomfortable as it should have.

"I haven't," she replied, trying to maintain her voice.

Without looking away, Lucius began to walk around her, his body radiating heat that Hermione refused to acknowledge. Soon he was standing behind her, and she could feel his hot breath seep through her thick hair to her neck. She almost closed her eyes to welcome the feeling, but caught herself and swallowed hard.

"Your cheeky little friends haven't noticed your recent change in personality, have they?" He questioned, pausing for a moment, "I can see fire in your eyes. You've been taking out your anger on everyone around you, but you seem to be focusing it on me. Why is that? What makes me... special?"

The sneer in his voice almost masked his curiosity. There was so much emotion flowing between them it was becoming hard for Hermione to speak. She loathed him. She hated him.

"I hate everything you are," she replied sharply, whirling around to stare him in the face again, "And when I look at you I feel all the hatred inside me rush to the surface. I'd try to explain it but you don't deserve an explanation. I despise you."

"Such kind words," Lucius replied haughtily, as he always did, "I'll have you know I have no kind feelings towards you either, Miss Granger, but I'm intrigued by this passion radiating from you at all angles. You need to let it out or it will consume you."

"How," Hermione dared him, jutting her face towards his angrily, so close she could taste his breath. The heat between them could have melted steel. She was staring so hard into his eyes, and he was staring so hard in return, that they were both starting to feel dizzy. Before she even knew what was happening, Lucius brushed his lips across hers.

Hermione was stunned. He pulled only an inch away from her lips, and she knew her confusion was very obvious. Had Lucius Malfoy just kissed her?

"What?" It was all she could spit out, despite the billion thoughts in her mind.

"Vent your anger, Hermione," he replied, his eyes menacing. Their lips had only met for an instant, but the static between them was incredible.

"You're my professor, you're a death eater, I hate you," she said, though she didn't look away or make any attempt to move from the spot she was in.

"You're my student, you're a mudblood, and I hate you as well," he pressed on, not blinking for an instant. An unruly strand of white-blonde hair fell across his face, but he didn't move it away, "I'm trying to help you, believe it or don't."

Somewhere, deep inside her, something told her she did believe him. He was the only person in the entire world right now who seemed to understand her completely. She was angry. She was passionate. He was there.

So she kissed him.

Her swollen lips moved towards and pressed against his, and he was quick to respond. Lucius' lustful kiss was everything Hermione needed. She could fight against it, and she could win or lose. Soon her mouth opened to give access to his tongue, and they wrestled with each other's lips for what felt like an eternity. His hands found her back and he pulled her closer to him, if it was even possible, and Hermione's hands became tangled in his incredibly soft hair. Their kiss was unbelievable not because it was sweet, loving and gentle, but because it was rough, passionate and full of anger. She could feel the numbing tension in her shoulders relax as she pressed her body to his. It was perfect.

After a fierce few minutes, they pulled away from each other at precisely the same instant. It took a moment for Hermione's eyes to open, but when they did, she found Lucius Malfoy staring straight into them. His hair was dishevelled, but he wore a triumphant look on his face. She blinked, and smiled mischievously at him.

"It would seem you're good for something," Hermione said evilly.

"And you, Miss Granger," he replied, and she grinned wickedly as she caught him licking his lips. He'd enjoyed it as much as she had. No, she hadn't enjoyed that. Damnit.

"I'm going to be late for Arithmancy," she stated plainly, and grabbed the bag that had fallen to the floor.

"I have a class as well," Lucius retorted and stepped away from her.

As he walked to the front of the class and she strolled briskly to the door, Hermione paused for a moment, knowing that very soon all that had just happened would occur to her. What had he done to her? How could he be so disgusting? Why was that the most incredible kiss of her life, why had it made her feel like she was flying on wings of fire? How dare Lucius Malfoy be the answer to all her problems?

"I hate you," Hermione said quietly, not for the first time that day, and left the room.

Even at the back of the class, he didn't have to guess what she'd said.

"I know," he said softly to himself, running a finger over his bottom lip and grinning ear to ear as Hermione Granger headed to her next class.

This teaching gig wasn't so bad, after all.

***

That's all for today, mermen and women, but if you like, there could be a part II. I'll see what my reviews say. ^-^ Later!