The more her husband rejected her advances, the further he was pushing her towards Lucius Malfoy, and he had nary a clue that is what was happening.

She loved her husband with every fibre of her being; they had been through so much together over the years but her heart could only take so much rejection before it started letting go of the love and started to fill with the resentment that was slowly inching its way in.

Often, she found herself just glaring at the wall opposite her desk at work, mouth agape a million miles away, and many a scenario ran through her mind. What if he was cheating on her? No, she would shake her head and scold herself. He would never do that, ever. She would always tell herself that he was just tired and under stress, but deep down she knew it was something more, but denial was a state best lived in.

Other times, she would find her mind slipping to the interactions she had with Lucius and found herself wishing he had slid his hand a little further up her leg the last time they had been in one another's company. And then her mind would wander to places she willed it not to go but didn't really try to stop it.

And now, it appeared she was having those thoughts in her sitting room with her husband mere meters. The thoughts where Lucius had her pressed against a wall, hands held tightly above her head with one of his hands whilst his lips peppered her neck with hot kisses and his spare hand slipped under the elastic of her soaking knickers and hit her clit in such a way her knees buckled so much so he was holding most of her weight.

She groaned deep in her throat, pulling herself from the forbidden thoughts. Looking up from the book clasped gently in her hand, she side-eyed her husband for a few moments, wondering how they came to this. Usually, he would sit beside her, and she would curl up against him comfortably, but now he chose to distance himself. Usually, the conversation was free-flowing and easy, and now she felt as if her husband was almost a stranger to her.

"Ron?" she asked gently, closing her book and placing it in her lap. She watched as his body tensed thoroughly and his jaw clenched. The book he had in his hand was being held so tightly she thought it might disintegrate in his clutch.

"What?" He snarled, slamming his book shut with a resounding thud that made her jump slightly.

"What is happening with you? With us?" Her voice shook as she spoke, unsure how this question would be regarded.

"What? He asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Sighing sadly, she tried to form the words in her head. She blinked back the tears and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. If he couldn't even see there was a problem, how would they fix it?

"You've been so very distant lately, Ron and I feel like there is something happening with you and you aren't telling me. I've tried to get affection from you, and you pull away. I want intimacy and all I am getting is the cold shoulder. It's almost like you have fallen out of love with me. Her voice shook and quivered as she spoke, fighting back the tears of anguish.

"Hermione." He exhaled deeply, shifting on the spot, expression softening substantially. "I could never not love you; you know that. And you also know I am under a tremendous burden of pressure. It is affecting my sleep, which in turn makes me snappy and distant. The last thing on my mind right now is sex, and I'm sorry about that."

She saw his lips moving, and she heard his words but there was not a single ounce of sincerity in his voice, almost as if he had recited what to say at this exact moment, it was perfectly rehearsed. She knew every word he spoke was a lie. A young, fit male who wanted sex every day didn't just stop wanting it instantly overnight, and that only left two logical explanations… he didn't love her anymore or he was sleeping with someone else, but the question she had to ask herself was who? He was always at training and came straight home. She was always at his matches and knew nothing was happening there. Maybe, perhaps one day, she would work this out, but for now, she would go on living in blissful denial, she thought to herself.

o-o-o-o-o

"Why the long face?" Lucius's voice cut through her as he sat down in the empty chair beside her overlooking the quidditch pitch. Another day, another game, and she wondered why she bothered coming, it was obvious his affections were lying elsewhere and it was a colossal waste of her time, but like the loyal wife she was, she would stand by him and show her support even if she really didn't want to.

"I was thinking you weren't showing up," she confessed. A little happiness found its way into her tone.

"And miss talking to my favourite Muggle-born and hearing about all of her life's problems? Blasphemy."

She felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips, the first smile in days. Who knew that Lucius Malfoy would be the beacon of light in her otherwise currently dull and dark life?

"He's still ignoring me, for the most part. I asked him flat out the other day what was going on and I got the same old spiel. He is tired and under stress, blah blah." She rolled her eyes mockingly to show the utter disdain she felt towards her husband now.

"I can guarantee that he is playing hide the sausage with someone else. I was a young man once and I can guarantee I never waited for my wife to beg me to sleep with her. That was happening nightly."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, throwing him a sideways glance. "At least you get it."

The two sat side-by-side in silence for a few minutes. Eyes darting backwards and forwards as they watched both teams flying with finesse and skill. She remembered when Ron first got on the team, he would always look over to see if she was watching, and now he could walk past her and not even acknowledge her.

"And how is your life?" She asked sincerely. Her bare leg gently leaned against his own cloth-clad one. He could feel her body heat radiating through his pants.

"Same old. Narcissa's disdain grows for me daily. I can't remember the last time we had a real conversation. I am only here because of the ridiculous amount of my money she has invested in this team."

"Seems we are both in the same boat," she sighed as she spoke, leaning further back in the seat as her skirt slid up, exposing more of her milky thighs to the world.

It took every ounce of his being not to stare, instead only glancing casually and then looking away. It had been so long since he had slept with his wife that it was taking every ounce of his preservation not to fuck her right here on the spot.

Casually and nonchalantly, he placed her hand on the woman's bare knee. Her skin was soft and warm, and his fingers tingled as they touched the velvet flesh of the woman.

He noticed she inhaled a short breath as his fingers touched her skin and she welcomed the touch of another. She wanted this. What was this that she wanted? She asked herself critically. This, she reprimanded herself. She craved the touch and affection of a man, her soul yearned to be included and not ignored. A desire deep inside of her needed to feel the closeness of a man against her bare flesh.

She knew Lucius Malfoy wasn't shy, and he rarely cared what others thought of him, which made him the perfect candidate to make this first move. Yes, he touched her on the leg the last time he saw her but that was in a different context; he was trying to show his comradery in a way, this time, well, he knew what he was doing, and she was allowing it. Was this the precipice towards cheating?

"You're very forward for someone who claims to love their wife," she mused, eyes darting to his hand tracing tiny circles on her flesh.

"You're very mistaken, Hermione. I never claimed to love her. I only claimed to be here for my investment and little more. However, I could say the same for you. You claim to love your husband and yet you sit here without a single protest when my hand touched your knee, and all I got in response when I started trailing up your bare thigh was a jagged exhale."

His hand traced featherlight up her thigh and under the hem of the black skirt that clung loosely to her skin. She wondered how much more brazen he would get sitting out here in public and with the chance of her husband happening to glance in their direction. She didn't shy from his touch and Ron only had himself to blame for shunning her need for affection.

"There is a spark of something between us, Lucius. We are just two lonely people seeking the company of one another. That is the way I see it. If your wayward hand falls upon my knee, who am I to stop it?"

His hand, now well under her skirt, fingers caressed the elastic of her knickers on her hip. She wanted to see where this would go, but at the same time, she didn't want anyone to see this happening.

He turned just so on the seat, leaning in close, his lips grazing the shell of her ear as he spoke. "I bet you've been fantasising about me every chance you can get. Imagine me pressing you against the wall and assaulting your flesh with my lips. Or pressed beneath me as I fuck you as you've never felt before." He stopped, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck briefly. He smiled against her neck as she stiffened and then relaxed against him. "And I bet right now, your knickers are absolutely saturated, and you are going to go home after this and play with yourself until you come as the thought of me fucking you run through your head."

Her eyes closed momentarily as she relished in the affection of the man. Goosebumps ran the length of her body as a chill ran down her spine. She would be lying if she denied everything he had just said. The mere fact he touched her turned her on, but the finale of whispering into her ear and his lips pressed to her neck could have almost made her abandon every ounce of rationality she had in her body.

And just as quickly as it happened, he was on his feet, staring down at her as if they hadn't just shared a moment. "Good day, Hermione. I must tend to a few affairs before the match has ended. I trust I'll be seeing you sooner rather than later."

She watched as he nodded his head curtly and vanished up the stairs and out of sight, leaving her wondering what had just happened and why he had liked it so much.