There were four soft knocks upon his door at eleven o'clock sharp.

Lucius licked his lips and tried to catch his breath. This was wrong, he told himself. He was her teacher. He was a married man. There was a yawning gap of twenty-five years between them. And they had been enemies. They had loathed one another for ages.

But he didn't loathe her now, not even a little bit. He couldn't bring himself to do anything but want her. As he approached his door, his heart hammered a frantic tattoo in his chest. His breath hitched in his lungs, and his skin prickled. He finally closed his fingers around the doorknob and paused just a moment. Should he let her in? Should he actually proceed? He shouldn't.

He did. He opened the door, and Hermione stood before him in her school uniform, looking too innocent, looking too young. She was beautiful, Lucius thought. She had frizzled hair that burst from her head in wild kinks. She had freckles spattered across her nose and cheeks. She had wide chestnut eyes that gleamed in the firelight from the wall sconces. Lucius gulped and silently stood aside, and Hermione seemed to steel herself as she walked into Lucius' chambers. He walked with her through the narrow corridor that led to his bedchamber, and once they were in there, he cleared his throat and said softly,

"I'm glad you've come."

"I'm… I never expected to be here," Hermione admitted. She stared at Lucius and then suddenly pulled back the sleeve of her robe and jumper. There, upon her milky flesh, was the seared insult Bellatrix had put on Hermione's body with torture.

Mudblood.

"Why am I able to forgive this?" Hermione asked, seemingly more to herself than to Lucius. "And, more than that, why do I want you so badly? It's this potion. But I don't want the antidote, either, Lucius. I don't want to go back to hating you. I didn't enjoy hating you, but I enjoy… this."

She gestured between the two of them, and Lucius swallowed past the thickness that had erupted in his throat. He shook his head a little and said,

"I never expected… this."

"You expected something," Hermione noted, looking him up and down. "You're in pyjamas."

He cocked a brow. "It's late."

"And I'm your pupil, come to your chambers," Hermione added. "So why not be in pyjamas?"

He glanced down at the green velvet dressing-gown he wore over black silk pyjamas, and he whispered,

"Perhaps I was expecting something."

"Well, I have to tell you," Hermione said softly, "that I won't be losing my virginity tonight."

"Ah." Lucius swallowed hard again. He outwardly contained his disappointment, but internally he protested, for he'd been looking forward to entering her delicious body. He couldn't help himself. It was what he wanted.

"I want to lose my virginity to you after we have had the antidote," Hermione said stoutly. Lucius sighed and nodded.

"Mmm. I… am not certain whether or not that will happen, Hermione."

"I know," she agreed, "and that's why those are my conditions. I don't want to give myself wholly and completely to a man who hated me until he breathed the vapours of Draught of Magnes. If you take the antidote and hate me again, I will regret ever touching you. I can't… I can't give you everything of my body when we aren't fully in control of ourselves."

"I understand," Lucius said, and he genuinely did. It made sense, what she was saying. Of course she wouldn't want to lose her virginity to a man who had let her be tortured in his home unless she was sure they were really and truly no longer enemies. Lucius huffed a breath and said softly,

"Goodnight, then."

"I said I wasn't going to lose my virginity," Hermione reminded him. "I did not say I was leaving."

"Oh?" Lucius smirked. "What exactly did you have in mind, Miss Granger?"

"I think," she said, lowering her eyes, "that if all I do is touch you, and we come out of this Draught of Magnes enemies again, I won't hate myself for it. If all I do is touch you, it won't feel like an irreversible…"

"Mistake," Lucius finished for her, and Hermione huffed.

"Right."

"Well," said Lucius slickly, "I certainly won't object to being… touched."

"I've never seen a wizard's body," Hermione said a bit self-consciously. "Not really."

"In person, you mean," Lucius said, raising his eyebrows. "You're more sheltered than I'd thought."

Younger than I should be allowing, he thought. Too innocent for a villain like me.

"Well," he said, "allow me to introduce you to the idea of a wizard's body. I will gladly take off this dressing gown and these pyjamas, if you wish."

"Yes, please." Hermione's voice was very soft then. Her pale cheeks went rosy, and her eyes widened. She took a step toward Lucius and whispered, "Will you let me do it?"

"Take it all off? Hmm. Yes. I think that would be fine," Lucius agreed. Suddenly she reached for the tie around his waist, and his breath hitched. He wet his bottom lip and felt a prickle of want shoot up his spine. He felt blood rush between his legs as Hermione untied the sash and pushed open his dressing gown. He shucked it, and it fell in a heavy velvet pile to the floor. Her lean, long fingers went to the pearlescent buttons of his silk pyjamas then, and he covered her hands as he murmured,

"If you don't want it…"

"I want it," Hermione answered. She began to unbutton the silk shirt, and he could see that her fingers were trembling terribly. He moved his own hands to her face and cradled her jaws in his palms as he informed her, quite against his nature,

"You are a beautiful witch, Hermione Granger."

She scoffed as she moved to the third button. "Ha. Beautiful. You're only saying that because you're drugged by a potion."

"Actually," Lucius said calmly, "I don't think I am. I suspect, Miss Granger, that the physical attraction between us is more genuine than we've given it credit for being."

"It's just the potion," Hermione said furtively, undoing the fifth button. Lucius took a heaving breath, his chest rising and falling heavily as he told her again,

"I think it's real."

"What makes you say that?" She stopped unbuttoning then and raised her chestnut eyes to him. He stared down at her and remembered the last time he'd seen her before term, at the Battle of Hogwarts. She'd been covered in filth and had been scraped and banged up, but even then, she'd been pretty. He hadn't thought much about it at the time, but now that he didn't hate her, he could see more clearly. She'd always been pretty, ever since she grew into being an adult witch with curves and angles.

"I don't think I could see it properly before," Lucius said, "but I see it now. How beautiful you are. There's no denying it. Your eyes… your lips."

He bent and kissed her very gently then, touching his mouth to hers once, twice, three times before whispering against her,

"The shape of you."

He slid one hand beneath her black school robe and urged her jumper up. Through the thin material of the white shirt she wore beneath, he planted his hand on her ribcage and felt the heat of her flesh. He groaned softly at that, his prick flushing so hard it ached and tented his pyjama trousers. He slid the fingers of his other hand into Hermione's wild hair and brushed his lips against her cheek. He whispered into her ear,

"Delicious. Every inch of you is delicious."

"Lucius." Hermione undid the last two buttons of his shirt and pushed it away, and he released her to shimmy out of the shirt. It slipped to the ground in a silent cascade, and then he was bare-chested before her. She stared in awe as she dragged her fingers around his hard pectorals, his solid, flat stomach. He was rather proud of his body; he worked diligently doing push-ups, sit-ups, and squats every morning before bathing. He was in his forties, but he'd kept himself hard and lean. Even in Azkaban, he'd spent at least an hour of every day working his muscles to keep them taut and built.

Hermione certainly seemed to notice, and to enjoy the look of him. Narcissa had never mentioned Lucius' tone, or the way he worked so hard to maintain himself. She'd only ever chastised him for making them run late to something because he'd been working out and then bathing. But Hermione slid her hands over Lucius' shoulders and biceps and noted,

"You must do a lot of work… to look like this."

Lucius shrugged and cocked a brow. "I'm a vain wizard, Hermione."

"Well… erm… you're very handsome," she informed him. Her eyes trailed lower, to where his cock was pushing at the fabric of his pyjama trousers, and she looked like a starving woman all of a sudden. She just gaped at the evidence of his erection, and she murmured, "I do want to see. And to touch you."

"Then I suggest you rid me of these trousers, Miss Granger," Lucius said slyly. Hermione hooked her fingers into the waistband of the trousers and pulled at them, yanking open the bow-tied ribbon at the front. She pushed the trousers down, and she seemed surprised that Lucius wore no underwear. He sprang forth, long and thick and throbbing for want of her. She just gaped at him, at his manhood, as he kicked away the trousers and let his cock proudly jut out at attention.

"Well?" Lucius prodded. "What's the verdict?"

"It's…" Hermione reached for him and wrapped her hand tentatively around the base of his shaft. Lucius hissed a little and tipped his head back, rolling his neck out a bit. Hermione stroked, applying just enough pressure to feel good, and Lucius sank his teeth into his lip. Hermione said seriously, "It's incredibly erotic is what it is."

Lucius laughed a little and reached for her face. He bent and kissed her again, more firmly this time, and he whispered, "Bed?"

"I suppose," Hermione said cautiously. Lucius guided her over to the bed and encouraged her to follow him up. He lay on his back and let her arrange herself between his knees. She pulled her wand out of the holster beneath her school robe, and she aimed it at his cock. Lucius felt his gaze go wide with horror as he wondered what she meant to do to him, but then she said confidently, "Lubrico."

Lucius practically cackled then as she tucked her wand away. "How did a good little girl like you learn that wizards like that spell so much?"

"I read a lot," Hermione muttered. Lucius' smirk faded a little as Hermione wrapped her hand around his cock again and began to stroke. Her other hand weighed Lucius' balls very carefully, considerately, and it felt delectable. She wasn't squeezing or hurting, but the little bit of pressure on his balls felt so good that they tightened up against Lucius' body. His hands sank into the covers on the four-poster bed, his fingers cinching at the blanket. Hermione knelt between his legs and stared down at him, her eyes locked on his as she began twisting her hand with every pump. She focused on his tip for a long moment, until it became so sensitised that Lucius shook his head and whimpered rather desperately,

"Too much."

"Sorry," Hermione murmured. She stroked again in long, smooth motions and palmed his tip every time she reached the top. Her other hand moved from his balls to the inside of his thigh, and she scratched extremely gently at the skin there. Lucius groaned and arched his back a little, telling her,

"I'm an old man, Hermione, but you'll make me finish like a schoolboy."

"I don't know the difference," Hermione admitted, "except that you seem to be enjoying this rather a lot."

She was teasing him. Lucius glared at her and seethed, "Well, you've got your hands on me in just the right way, Miss Granger, so, yes, I am enjoying it."

"Well, good," she huffed. She sped up her stroking, and Lucius shut his eyes as he felt his climax barrelling towards him like a train. Everything went hot and white inside his skull. Everything was tightening. Her hand was back on his balls, which had gone taut and warm. Her other hand twisted along his slick shaft; her thumb toyed with the skin beneath his tip and played around the ridge. He felt her glide her middle finger from the base of his shaft all the way up the vein to the tip and back down again, and then she was squeezing just right at the base of his cock, and he was lost.

"Hermione," he said through clenched teeth. "Oh. Merlin's beard, Hermione."

His cum exploded from his cock then, in a way that it hadn't done in years. In decades of touching himself, in years of sex with Narcissa, he had never felt his climax burst forth like this. The power behind the jets of cum made him dizzy, but he forced his eyes open to see that it had splattered all over the chest of Hermione's jumper. He shuddered at the sight of that, at the visual of her hand covered in creamy seed, and he whispered,

"Oh. Oh."

She was red-cheeked and panting, and she blinked a few times as she pulled her hands off of him. She stared at the hand that was covered in his cum, as if examining a specimen. She parted her fingers and let it dribble down her hand toward her wrist, and she seemed completely awed. She looked down at Lucius and said,

"I was wrong."

He felt like cold water had been poured over his head, and he gulped. "What do you mean? Wrong to do this?"

"No. Wrong about… I don't think I'd regret it. Being with you. Even if you wind up hating me in a few months. I think… this is mostly real. This."

She used her other hand to gesture between the two of them, and she whispered,

"I don't feel poisoned."

"You may want to clean yourself up, at least," Lucius grunted, making a move to sit up from where he lay. Hermione pulled out her wand and used her clean hand to aim it, casting Tergeo and Scourgify until her hand and jumper were clean. She graciously cleaned up Lucius, too, and he stared up at her as his cock softened and flopped over onto his thigh. Hermione glided her hands around his chest again, around the dusting of hair at his sternum, and she seemed to be examining the silky blond hair on his head.

"You're my teacher," she reminded him. "You're a married man. And we were enemies."

"Hostis amica mea est," Lucius told her. He slipped his hands up her thighs, and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Do you want me to touch you?" he asked quietly, and Hermione shook her head.

"Not tonight. If I stay any longer, the Fat Lady will rat me out to Professor McGonagall."

"Some other time, then," Lucius said, somewhat firmly. Hermione smiled a little and nodded.

"Some other time."

They made their way off the bed, and as Lucius pulled on his pyjamas again, he felt oddly self-conscious. She'd made him cum. She'd made him cum so hard he hadn't been able to think or breathe properly. But he'd let her be tortured in his home. He'd encouraged his son to call her a Mudblood. He'd been a Death Eater and she'd been… but none of that mattered now, did it? All that mattered was how she made him feel right this moment.

He thought of Narcissa, of how his wife had hotly invaded the Minister for Magic's office, shrieking that Lucius was being manipulated at Hogwarts. She wasn't entirely wrong, was she? Lucius gulped.

"I don't want to take the antidote," he told Hermione. "I don't want to find out… I don't want this to…"

"Lucius." Hermione put her hands on his cheeks and pulled him down, encouraging him to kiss her. She did, and when he pulled away just a little, Hermione mumbled, "If it's real, it'll still be there. If it isn't real, we both deserve to know. We need to take the antidote."

"Fine." Lucius swallowed past the knot in his throat and kissed Hermione more gently. He murmured against her lips, "Another time, in the not very distant future, I am going to make you writhe with pleasure, Miss Granger."

She laughed softly and whispered, "I have no doubt of your abilities, Professor Malfoy."

She pulled away from him and turned to go, stalking quickly towards the door of Lucius' rooms and slipping out into the corridor.

The next morning at breakfast, Lucius received two letters. One had his name on it in what was clearly Narcissa's script. The other was addressed to Mister Lucius Malfoy, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Lucius curiously eyed the letter and then set it aside, attending to Narcissa's letter first. He'd committed to not opening letters from her, but he couldn't help himself right now. He bit his lip hard as he broke the Malfoy seal and pulled out the letter from inside the envelope. His breath shook a little as he unfurled the tri-folded letter and began to read Narcissa's neat, tight script.

Dear Lucius,

Draco has informed me that you wrote to him fully agreeing with his views about Mudbloods. I feel as though my entire family has betrayed me. I shall be returning to the Black family estate to live with my parents, and Draco may have Malfoy Manor. As for you, I must say that I do not much care what you choose to do. You and I were once like one. Now I feel that I do not know my husband. He defends Blood Traitors and Mudbloods. He has abandoned me to teach at Hogwarts in a deal struck with Kingsley Shacklebolt. I am alone. I will go to my parents' to be a member of the House of Black once more. As their only remaining daughter, they will cherish my company much more than either you or Draco will in future, I am sure.

I am sorry that things between us are so sour, that wickedness has consumed you and dissolved the love between us. When we defected, I did not intend on us honouring the morality of our enemies. I did not intend on becoming Blood Traitors, but that is what you are now, in my view. You are a traitor to your name, to your wife, and to your blood.

May you be happy in the life you have chosen.

Narcissa Black

Lucius read the letter five times and then flicked his eyes down to Hermione. She was animatedly speaking with Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, who had come up behind the Gryffindor table. The girls all laughed about something, and then Luna Lovegood waved and walked away. Hermione and Ginny kept talking, and Hermione didn't seem to feel Lucius' eyes on her at all. He read the letter from Narcissa again and felt his stomach sink. He felt queasy as he shut his eyes and thought of all the happiness he and Narcissa had shared.

He opened the other letter, the one with the mysterious and complex addressing on the front. He examined the seal on the back and read the stamped words Young's Potioneers. He swallowed thickly and opened the envelope, pulling out the card inside. Written with a flourish were the words,

Dear Mr Malfoy,

We have managed to procure a completed antidote to Draught of Magnes from a potions supplier in Italy. If you wish to purchase the antidote, the remaining balance is one hundred Galleons. Otherwise, we will continue brewing your antidote here. Please notify us and send funds if you wish to receive the completed antidote straight away.

Warm regards,

Young's Potioneers

Lucius gaped at the letter. He tossed back his chair and flew to his feet, snatching both letters and stalking away from the Head Table. As he walked quickly out of the Great Hall, he eyed Hermione and saw her curiously taking in the sight of him fleeing. He nodded, and she surreptitiously grabbed her bag. He kept walking, and it wasn't until he was already to the Owlery that he heard a breathless voice from behind him ask,

"What's going on?"

Lucius turned his head away from the letter he was writing, gripping a bag of Galleons tightly in his left fist. He met Hermione's eyes, and, feeling his own sear just a little, he informed her,

"The antidote is ready."

Notes: Thank you SO MUCH for your patience in dealing with the accidental removals of this story as well as the delay in updating. I promise to be back on a very regular update schedule from now on. Thank you so much for reading. Please do review. I really appreciate any and all feedback.