AN: A House of Cards inspired fic. I've always wanted to see this pairing in a political thriller AU setting.
This story has no beta and English isn't my native tongue. Apologies in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes.
She had just clasped her earring when he appeared behind her in the mirror; his off-white dress shirt was pressed neatly underneath his obsidian black robes while his cravat was tied perfectly around his neck.
"Help me with the zipper," she said and soon felt his cold large hands slide the zipper up.
The action sent a shiver down her spine and she looked up to see him unabashedly leering at her, cold large hands now circled her waist, pulling her close to him. He perched his head on her shoulder as they stared at each other through the mirror. She would have withered under his prowling gaze at one time—a dangerous, notorious Death Eater known to hold a grudge.
Not anymore.
Her days of teenage meekness abruptly disappeared when the second war broke out. A necessity.
"You looked…" Lucius trailed off, thinking of the perfect word to say. He always knew the right words to say. That was one of the reasons why she chose him.
"Beautiful? Ravishing?" Hermione supplied.
"Always. But tonight, you looked like the next Minister of Magic," he smugly said.
She shared a knowing smile with him. "Not yet."
"Hmm. You've done your time. You've backed the right man."
"I know," she stepped outside his embrace and turned around to face him. "But we're at the most crucial stage of the plan. And there can be no mistakes or everything we've worked hard for the last five years would've been for nothing."
"This is going to be a big year for us. One step closer to our goal," Lucius raised her left hand and pressed a kiss to where her wedding ring sat. They've been married for six years and yet, the simple gesture still captivated her.
An act of devotion.
A pledge of loyalty.
"Shall we, my dear?"
Hermione clutched his arm tighter to her chest and soon felt him twisting away with her, her body being pulled in all corners. The soft pop of disapparition echoed across the empty master bedroom, leaving a faint black mist in its wake.
"I need you to keep that smile up for twenty more minutes," her husband whispered near her ear as Hermione sipped from the champagne flute. His arm was casually hanging around her waist.
"This is going to go on for twenty more minutes?" she asked through gritted teeth as her plump red lips pulled into a passable smile.
"There you go," Lucius smiled at her encouragingly, the kind of smile that reached his eyes, the kind of smile he reserved only for her. "The party should end in about ten and then you need to mingle for another ten. Pose for a photo or two with the Minister and then we can go home."
"Do I at least get to choose who I mingle with?"
"No, but I could steer you away from the unpleasant ones," he teased as he placed a feather-light kiss on her cheek. "As a matter of fact, I can already see one headed our way."
She turned her head a fraction just in time to see Dolores Umbridge waddled her way over to them. "Fuck. What is she doing here?"
"A pitiful attempt at gaining her status back considering she never had any in the first place," he drawled, already sounding bored. He plucked the champagne flute from her hand and dropped it on the tray of a passing server. "Shacklebolt's insane for inviting her here. Do you want me to whisk you away to the coatroom and have my wicked way with you?"
That elicited a snort and a laugh from her. "No, as much as I want you to. I think I can handle the toad."
A few seconds later, they heard someone behind them clear their throat. Husband and wife turned around to see a small round mass of pink atrocity. "Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger. So surprised to see you both so cozied up together."
"It's Mrs. Malfoy now. But I guess news doesn't reach you when you're locked away in Azkaban, right, my dear?" she glanced in Lucius's direction and he nodded stiffly. "I'm sure you'll catch up soon."
She gave her a sickeningly sweet smile—all pearly white teeth bared. Thank Merlin her parents are dentists. Hermione took Umbridge's momentary shock as a chance to exit. "I think I just saw Harry waved at me. If you'll excuse us, Dolores. Have a pleasant evening."
She walked away with her head held high, her husband just behind her with his hand on her back. "Nice exit," Lucius said. "Potter wasn't really waving at you, was he?"
Harry Potter, her trusted best friend and beloved brother, was happily exchanging drunk jokes with Neville Longbottom on the other side of the room.
"No, but if I stayed there another second longer, I might have to hex that sanctimonious bitch," she hissed as she wrapped her arms around his while they leisurely walked across the room. "I'm sorry I brought up Azkaban."
"It's perfectly fine, my dear," he squeezed the hand that was curled around his arm. "You have nothing to apologize. No regrets, remember? That was part of our marriage vows."
"I remember. Although I'm starting to regret coming here," they kept walking while Lucius carefully maneuvered them from running into anyone they didn't need to talk to. "If it wasn't for the announcement tomorrow, I would've stayed at home with you."
"That I agree. Oh, there's Kingsley waving at us. Better get that photo op so we can get out of here."
Hermione chuckled and kissed her husband on the cheek. "Let's get this thing over with."
Hermione Malfoy sat in one of the plush chairs outside the conference room. She received an owl earlier asking her to drop by the Ministry as soon as she can.
It was never stated why but she can only guess that it had something to do with the announcement later.
Theodore Nott popped his head out of the door and smiled at seeing her but Hermione noticed that the smile did not reach his eyes. "Hermione, please come in."
Hermione entered the conference room fully expecting Kingsley to be seated at the head of the table only to find it empty.
"Is the Minister running late?" she asked Theo.
"No, he couldn't make it," he gestured for her to take a seat. "But I'll brief him though."
Something's up, she thought. I hate being kept in the dark.
"Okay then," donning her professional demeanor, Hermione pulled out a handful of files from the folder she's holding and proceeded to flip through them. "This is the memo I drafted on the ICW policies on Schools and Apprenticeship Program. I think we need a more direct way to frame our—"
"Hermione, I'm going to stop you there," Theo held up a hand and Hermione felt her insides churn. "We're not going to nominate you as Senior Undersecretary."
When she didn't respond, Theo continued, explaining what Hermione thought was the lamest and scripted excuse that ever existed. "I know the Minister made you a promise, but circumstances have changed."
"The nature of promises, Theo, is that they remain immune to changing circumstance," she nearly hissed.
"Shacklebolt has thought long and hard about this, and he's decided we need you to stay in the DMLE."
"When was this decision made?" Hermione clenched and unclenched the papers she was holding in an attempt to calm herself. "And why wasn't I part of the conversation?"
"I'm sorry Hermione. If it had been up to me I would've handled this differently." Theo blinked and looked down at the table and she knew then that he was lying. It's a tell that Lucius pointed out to her when her husband got Theo elected as Kingsley's secretary three years ago. "I wouldn't have waited this long to tell you."
"So you knew you were going to do this," she didn't bother hiding the venom in her voice.
"It's been an evolving discussion," Theo said calmly.
"That's a chicken-shit move," Hermione stood and gathered the papers. She debated for a split second whether to burn it in front of Theo just to make a statement but ultimately decided against it. Now is not the time for theatrics. "Let's be absolutely clear. You wouldn't be sitting here if not for my husband."
"And I'll always be grateful to Mr. Malfoy, but now we have to lead, and that means making tough choices."
Hermione shook her head, "I can't believe you."
But Theo seemed to ignore her statement.
"Now that the remnants of the previous war are behind us, Kingsley wanted to move forward, to strengthen our policies and put up educational reforms. We need you at the DMLE more than we need you here."
Hermione stood her ground. She spent years trying to reach the top only for Kingsley—the same person she helped throughout the years—to bring her down. She would be bullied like this into submission. "I want to speak to Kingsley personally."
"Hermione…" he said resignedly. "The decision has been made."
"Good day, Theo." Hermione turned around and headed for the door.
"We need you Hermione," Theo said, then a tone of warning in his voice. "Are you going to stand beside us or not?"
Hermione turned to face Theo. The two of them stared at each other, weighing, calculating. It felt like a lifetime when it had only been mere seconds. I will not yield.
Then she smiled. All pearly white perfect teeth. "Of course. If that's what Kingsley wants."
"I'm very glad to hear that."
Hermione suddenly felt the desperate need to flee the room but a thought occurred to her as she touched the doorknob. "May I ask—if not me, then who?"
Theo hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering anywhere but her. "Cormac McLaggen."
"Cormac McLaggen," she let the bitter taste wash over her mouth before spitting it back out. "That's an… excellent choice."
She wanted nothing more than to burn the entire place down along with Kingsley Shacklebolt in it.
Lucius sat in the library at the Manor, robes discarded, cravat loosened, and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Stacks of parchments lined the desk but he can't seem to focus on any of it for longer than two seconds. His mind kept drifting to his wife.
It was past eight. She should've owled him or dropped by the office hours ago. And when there was no news of the supposed announcement, he started to worry.
He'd floo called her office but her secretary had told him that she'd taken the day off and left half an hour before lunch.
Potter was next on his list but The Boy Who Lived came up empty-handed.
So he sat there in the library knowing it'll be the first place she'll go to when she arrived. It was a few minutes before nine that he felt the wards shifted and soon heard footsteps.
The doors to the library flung open revealing her wife looking like she'd just dueled Voldemort to death.
"Lucius," she said upon noticing him sitting there.
"You didn't owl," he didn't bother hiding the disappointment in his tone.
"I was—"
"You didn't owl me, Hermione. Nine hours, you don't not owl me. Not when it's this big."
"You're right," Hermione sighed resignedly. Lucius saw her shoulders deflate and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her but that wouldn't accomplish anything. And besides, he felt livid. Not at her, no. But he'll soon find out who he should be angry with.
"Six years of marriage. When have we ever avoided each other?"
Hermione took tentative steps towards him. "I wanted a solution first."
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have one?"
"Not yet," she stood near him now, beside the side table that's lined with antique Ming vases they purchased at an auction during their second anniversary celebration in Zagreb.
"This affects me too, Hermione," he said in a chastising tone. "We do things together. When you don't involve me, we're in free fall."
When Hermione didn't respond, Lucius urged her. "What happened?"
"He says they need to keep me in the DMLE," she muttered.
"Shacklebolt said that?"
"No, Theo did. Kingsley wasn't even there," she spat as her voice started to rise higher. "That's what really gets me. He didn't have the courage to look me in the eye—"
"So they lied to your face," Lucius growled.
"For months."
"And you didn't see it coming?"
"I never thought they were capable," Hermione ran a hand through her tamed curls that used to be so wild.
Lucius folded his hands under his chin and leveled her with a look. "You usually don't underestimate people, Hermione."
"I know," she shook her head. "Hubris. Ambition."
"You should be angry."
"I'm livid!" she screamed across the room. Lucius could see sparks of her magic flowing through her body. In another time, this would've evoked something within him but right now, all he could feel was anger that nearly matched hers.
Lucius then gestured to her, "Then where is that? I don't see the anger."
"You want to me lash out at Kingsley? At Theo?" Her voice kept rising an octave higher. "You want me to go to the press and make a mess of something I can't change?"
"I want more than what I'm seeing. You're better than this, Hermione."
"Well, I'm sorry, Lucius," she threw her hands up in defeat. "I am sorry."
"No," his tone cold. "That I won't accept."
"What?" Hermione snapped.
"Apologies."
He looked hard at her. If he was any other wizard, he would've smothered her with sympathy, but not him, no. He knew that's the worst thing he could do for a witch like Hermione.
She was about to say something but Lucius cut her off with a wave. "My wife doesn't apologize, even to me."
He walked out of the library and as soon as he closed the door he heard a crash inside. He said a quiet prayer to Merlin that the Ming vases would survive his wife's wrath.
Lucius barely slept that night. He glanced at the empty bed beside him, the early morning light seeping through the slits of the drapes. He took his time grooming himself ad then asked Winky to bring him two cups of freshly brewed tea. Half an hour later, he made his way down to the library.
He found her standing by the window, staring at the newly trimmed bushes of their garden with a cigarette in one hand. The Ming vases were set to rights, probably by the house-elf.
Lucius approached her and placed a cup of tea on the windowsill in front of her.
"Did you sleep?" she asked not looking up at him.
"Barely."
Lucius watched as Hermione took a long drag, watched as the smoke went up and disappeared above her. "I know what I have to do," she finally said tilting her head to meet his piercing grey eyes.
"Of course you do."
"We'll have a lot of nights like this," she took two steps towards him. "Making plans, very little sleep."
"That doesn't worry me," he smirked. In fact, he loved it. Despite claiming to be a reformed wizard, Lucius still missed all the plotting and manipulation he did back during Fudge's term. He can already feel his insides vibrate with excitement.
He closed the distance and kissed her, slow and languid. When they pulled apart, Hermione handed him the cigarette and he took a long drag as well.
"I should get to work," she said as she downed the tea in one gulp.
"I already asked Winky to prepare your things."
She looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to convey everything she needed to say. Lucius raised her left hand and placed an open-mouthed kiss on each of her knuckles.
An act of devotion.
A pledge of loyalty.
A declaration of love.
"I'm going to destroy them all."