Written for the Slytherin Cabal's FB group Death By Quill 2019 Round 1 writing challenge. I love this challenge and participate every year! My pairing was Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy and the prompt was Mirror Magic!

Thank you to AlexandraO and ElleMartin for their hard beta work! The Latin was translated with the help of Google Translate.

If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy

Rating: E

Summary: Hermione finds a magic mirror in Grimmauld Place, instead of leaving it alone as Harry and Ron implore her, she is fascinated. When she decides to perform a soulmate spell using the magic mirror, everything goes wrong.

Grey Magic

"Mirror, mirror on the wall…" Hermione Granger trailed off as she contemplated the spell she was about to perform. A quick glance over her shoulder told her the door was still closed. She had found this mirror after she, Harry, and Ron moved back into Grimmauld Place after the war ended. Instantly, she'd been fascinated. It had an ornate, almost renaissance gilt frame, and was larger than Hagrid. Harry had immediately called in the Aurors who handled dark artifacts to assess how dangerous it was. Very dangerous it turned out. They'd offered to take it away, but Harry couldn't bear to give away anything that used to belong to Sirius. So instead, they hid it up here, in the dark, shadowy attic where Buckbeak used to sleep.

The books that Mrs Weasley had quarantined way back in fifth year hadn't ever been destroyed. Harry and Ron didn't have any idea the extent of reading Hermione had done. They, too, were hidden away in the house and Hermione had found them and read them all.

Her relationship with Ron was going alright, for now, but they had periods where it felt like they were flatmates and not lovers. It was disappointing, to say the least. She'd always longed for a passionate romance, more rip their clothes off of each other and less order a pizza and watch the telly. Ron was definitely the latter. So when she'd stumbled across the soulmate spell in one of those dark, hidden away books, she felt compelled to try it. All it called for was a magic mirror, and Hermione knew where to find one. Something about thT mirror called to her.

She squared her shoulders to the mirror, barely able to see herself in the dim light of the attic and held her wand aloft, speaking in a low voice.

"Speculo speculum murum. Dic mihi quis ego sum; dic mihi quis ego sum ut vinctum; dic mihi, quis est anima coniugi. Speculo speculum murum."

A bright light flashed from within the mirror and Hermione watched fascinated as her dim outline shifted and moved to accommodate the newcomer. He was tall, much taller than her, and his hair was long, raggedy, so dirty Hermione couldn't quite tell what color it was. As the light in the mirror grew, the man stood next to her and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist.

Suddenly, despite the dirt and grime, Hermione recognized him. She stumbled back with a shout.

"NO! No, no, no, no," she chanted as she stared at the mirror in horror. Her mirror self, smiled up at the man, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his jaw. The man smirked, and it made Hermione's insides go cold.

"Confringo!" Hermione shouted, her wand pointed directly at the man in the mirror. The glass shattered, exploding outward and Hermione flinched, cowering away from the sharp glass shards that flew at her. For a long moment, the broken frame hung awkwardly, seemingly suspended in time, before crashing to the dusty floorboards.

Hermione was horrified. How could that...that man be her soulmate? It wasn't possible, was it?

Lucius Malfoy had been in Azkaban for over three years. There was no getting out of it this time, no escaping, and all he could do was serve his time until his scheduled release in another twelve years. He spent most of his time lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling and contemplating elaborate escape schemes—always dead ends, of course—and even more elaborate ideas for how he could have avoided this in the first place. Today was different, however. One moment, he was lying on his cot listening to the wind blow in its particularly icy way, and the next moment Lucius was lying on his back on the rocky outcropping across the way from the island that held Azkaban.

He sat up quickly as the frigid wind whipped off the salty sea, making his hair dance around his head, despite its grimy condition. He could see Azkaban through the low clouds and fog, it towered over the North Sea, as the ocean beat at its sides. The ocean was always raging this far north.

How had he managed to get himself free? He hadn't even been trying to free himself. He had only been daydreaming of what it would like to be free years from now. Then he felt a tug on his navel. It wasn't like the tug of a Portkey, more like the tug of a spell, drawing him toward something...or someone.

Had someone freed him? On purpose or by accident? Lucius didn't know, but he was determined to find out. The first thing he needed was a wand. And perhaps a hot shower.

"Oi! What are you doing out here?" a gruff voice from behind him asked. Lucius turned slowly to see the boatman limping toward him. He could see a small house in the distance that the boatman lived in. Perfect.

"Seems I was released early for good behavior," Lucius said as the boatman drew closer. The boatman eyed him with suspicion and drew his wand.

"Didn't hear nothing about no release," the man said.

"You wouldn't have," Lucius agreed. Quick as lightning, he shoved the man hard, right in the middle of his chest, and snatched the wand the other man held. Lucius breathed heavily as the boatman shouted and coughed, trying to stand. Lucius cast a full-body bind at him, though his magic moved sluggishly through the wand. He left the boatman there as he made his way across the rocky shoreline to the boatman's house. Hopefully, he could attune himself enough to the wand to get to London.

That pulse deep in his abdomen told him that's where he needed to be: London.

Hermione didn't tell Harry or Ron what happened in the attic with the mirror. She cleaned the mess up the best she could and threw a dust cloth over the entire thing. It wasn't like Harry or Ron would be going up there anytime soon anyway, not with how busy they were with work. She'd been lucky that neither of them had been home when she'd attempted the spell. Obviously, it hadn't worked. There was no way that a wizard who believed so doggedly in pureblood supremacy was her soulmate.

But when her abdomen ached the next morning, she knew, deep down he had to be. The spell's side effects wouldn't be taking place if it hadn't worked. No, she'd done the spell correctly, just as every other spell she'd ever tried. The pulse in her belly wanted her to go north, but Hermione ignored it. He was locked away in Azkaban. There was no use attempting to go there. Even if he did accept her as a visitor, what would she do? Tell him he was the one? It was absurd.

And besides all of that, he was still married. His wife and son lived in the ancestral home. Even if he were a free man, it's not like Hermione could be with him. She wouldn't consign herself to a life of the mistress, of the other woman. She had much too much pride in herself to do that. She'd rather be single for the rest of her life than be someone's mistress, even if he was her soulmate.

Hermione left the Ministry in a hurry. She had some grocery shopping to take care of in Diagon Alley before returning back home. It was her night to cook dinner, and the house was practically devoid of anything edible.

It was as she was hurrying through the busy, winding streets of Diagon Alley that she spotted him. His bright, light blond hair was a dead giveaway, and while his son wasn't out of the question, he'd always worn his hair much shorter. No, this was the father. But how?

Hermione followed him as discreetly as possible. She hadn't read the Daily Prophet all week, but it was clear she should have. People nodded to him as he passed as if no time had passed. As if he weren't supposed to be locked away in Azkaban for a dozen more years.

He slipped into a side alley, and Hermione followed. She knew she shouldn't. She couldn't entertain this insanity, and yet when the side alley twisted, and he went around the bend, she scurried after him.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Lucius Malfoy murmured pointing his wand behind her. Hermione whirled around, hesitant to turn her back on him, but too curious to figure out what he'd done to stop her. He'd blocked the alley quite neatly with a wall of bricks. She was trapped.

Lucius gazed triumphantly down at the girl. It had only taken him a few days to figure out what the silly chit had done. Soulmate magic wasn't illegal, but it was definitely on the darker side of the magic spectrum, mostly because it tended to supersede later wizarding laws. His sentence had been eliminated and his marriage dissolved due to her use of the soulmate spell. And judging by the look on her face, she had no idea.

"How are you out of Azkaban?" Granger asked, her voice trembled.

"This is why you shouldn't meddle with magic you don't understand," he drawled. "Soulmate magic is grey at best, and extraordinarily powerful."

"So what, because we're soulmates," she practically spat the word, "you get a free pass?"

"Well, and because you rejected the soulmate bond immediately," Lucius murmured. He stepped closer to the young witch. He'd never given her much thought, but she was rather lovely with her flushed cheeks. Her hair was a disaster, of course, but not everyone could be born with hair like his.

"W-What?" she took a wary step backward as Lucius advanced and his lips twitched at her actions.

"I suspect there is a broken mirror somewhere," Lucius said. She'd backed up into the false wall he created, and Lucius reached a gloved hand out to brush a stray curl from her face. She didn't flinch, which frankly surprised him. She almost leaned into the touch of his leather-clad fingertips, her eyes fluttering for a moment. Lucius breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring. There was no doubt, she was his soulmate.

A moment later and he was flung backward. She'd cast an Expelliarmus at him and tore down the faux wall he'd created, fleeing from the alley entirely.

Lucius frowned as he watched her leave. He'd known she'd reject the bond, but he also knew that it would kill her and him both if she never accepted it. He'd have to formulate a plan to ensure that she did accept it. It was why he was released from Azkaban after all.

Hermione eyed the large package wearily. How had it even arrived on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place? It was still Secret Kept. But there it was, a huge, flat package that Hermione suspected was a mirror, with her name on it in a lovely script. She traced her finger over the writing for a moment. It wasn't familiar, but Hermione knew who it was from. She sighed and with a flick of her wand moved the package up the stairs and into her study.

Once the package was settled against her bookcase, Hermione opened the plain brown paper to find that she wasn't wrong. A lovely, ornate mirror, as large as the broken one three floors up in the attic, stood before her. The frame was jet black but intricately carved. Hermione ran her fingers over the frame, enjoying the beauty of it.

"Hello," a low, seductive voice said, startling Hermione. She jumped back from the mirror to see a smirking Lucius Malfoy staring at her.

"Hello?" Hermione said tentatively.

"I see you've opened my gift," Malfoy said, fingering the head of his cane. Hermione licked her lips as she contemplated those long-fingered hands.

"Is it really you?" Hermione asked, snapping her eyes up to meet his. "Or is this some complicated bit of magic?"

"Oh, I assure you, this is really me. I had been hoping we could have a longer conversation. Are you alone?"

"I'm in my private study," Hermione replied. A moment later, the mirrored surface shimmered like the air on a hot day and Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the mirror and into her study.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked. Her heart beat faster when she got a whiff of his scent. It was bergamot and something uniquely male. He towered over her, and she worried that he was going to punish her in some way for the way she treated him a few weeks ago in Diagon Alley.

"Magic," Malfoy said, his lips quirked up. "Now, shall we finish the discussion we started all those weeks ago?" He stepped forward, and in Hermione's small study, she felt trapped.

"There is nothing to discuss," Hermione muttered, taking a step back and finding herself almost stumbling into her desk. Damn the small rooms at Grimmauld Place.

"Of course, there is," Malfoy murmured, crowding her space by placing a hand on either side of her on the desk behind her. "We can talk about how you are my soulmate. Or about how you used semi-legal mirror magic to figure that out. Or about how your use of somewhat grey magic has freed me from Azkaban and my wife. Or shall we discuss your utter rejection of that soulmate bond?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and jutted out her chin. "Are you attempting to blackmail me?"

Malfoy threw his head back and laughed, it was low and throaty and went right to Hermione's core. Her nipples pebbled beneath her clothes and she wanted to shift her weight to relieve the sudden ache between her thighs, but she wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing how he was affecting her.

He lifted one of those damned gloved hands and traced his fingertips along her cheek. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to lean into the featherlight touch. Who knew gloves could be such a turn on?

"Accept the bond," Malfoy said quietly.

Hermione shook her head. She couldn't be soulmates with Lucius Malfoy. She was meant to be with Ron, wasn't she? The longer she stood in his presence though the more comfortable she became. He seemed to exude some sort of calming energy. His fingers slipped down the side of her neck, and Hermione wasn't able to stop herself from tilting her head to allow him better access.

The moment his lips landed on hers, she knew she was done for. It was like nothing she'd ever felt. Fire and heat sizzled under her skin as he ravaged her mouth with his own. Her hands were twisted in his long hair, holding him to her and within a moment he lifted her onto the desk behind her, stepping firmly between her thighs. One still-gloved hand at the nape of her neck, directing the kiss, as the other skimmed its way down her body before resting at her waist.

"Accept the bond," Malfoy repeated, kissing along her jaw.

Hermione panted in response. She couldn't accept the bond. She wouldn't. But, oh Merlin, that thing he was doing with his tongue near her ear was almost enough to get her to say yes. Almost.

Malfoy flicked his fingers and dropped to his knees. It wasn't until his face was buried between Hermione's thighs that she even realized she was naked. He was still entirely dressed and still wearing those damned sexy leather gloves. His mouth was a marvel and had Hermione been the type, she would have written epic poems about the way his mouth moved against her nether lips. Her hands gripped his hair, and for a moment she was sure he was going to make her remove them, but he didn't. He allowed her to push her core into his face. He let her ride out her orgasm against his tongue until she fell back flat against the desk.

"Accept the bond," Malfoy said into her still pulsating sex.

Hermione groaned. "You can't just use sex to get me to agree with you."

She swore she felt his lips turn up in a smirk against her thighs.

"That sounds like a condition of our future relationship," Malfoy drawled.

Hermione leaned up on one elbow and glared at him. "I can't be your soulmate," she said. He stood slowly, towering over her.

Malfoy snorted a sound that surprised Hermione for how inelegant it was. Another flick of his hand and a bright blue cord shot out of Hermione's abdomen bounced off the mirror and ended at Malfoy's still-clothed abdomen. Or maybe it began at Malfoy's abdomen and ended at Hermione's? It was unclear.

"This says differently," Malfoy said, as he thrummed the band of blue. Hermione felt the reverberations through her entire body, and she groaned, closing her eyes at the slightly odd, but definitely delicious sensations it caused.

"What happens if I don't accept the bond," Hermione said after a long moment, opening her eyes to pin Malfoy with a hard stare.

"We die."

The words were said with such finality that Hermione felt them in her bones. He wasn't lying. Somehow she knew that he wasn't lying. Not accepting this bond would only lead to her death. Would she rather be dead than his soulmate? The look in his eyes told her that the knowledge alone might kill him. He was equal parts hopeful and apprehensive, and Hermione wondered how she was so sure she could read him so well. Was this more of the bond?

In the end, it wasn't much of a choice.

"I accept the bond," she said clearly.

Malfoy sighed with relief, then surged to his feet, pressing his lips to hers once more. "I promise you won't want for a thing."

Hermione snorted and pushed away from him. "You know nothing about me if you think I want 'things.'"

"Touché, Miss Granger," Malfoy murmured, running a gloved hand down her arm. She shivered in response.

"You should probably call me Hermione, Lucius," Hermione said, testing his name for the first time on her tongue. She liked how it tasted.

"I like how my name sounds coming from your mouth," Lucius murmured. "Perhaps I can make you scream it this time."

Then his hands were everywhere. It wasn't long before Hermione was screaming his name, this time with his cock pounding into her in time with her shouts.

~Fin~