I'd hoped to get this posted over the weekend, but real life got in the way, and then I wasn't happy with this chapter and ended up doing more editing than planned. I'm writing well into 7th year now, and I'm struggling to get through some pivotal chapters. I'm really trying to stay ahead of myself so I don't have to make you lovely people wait too long for updates, but please know that we may end up shifting to once a week updates at some point. I hope the 'citrusy' content in this chapter makes up for the brief delay.
As always, I love to hear your thoughts about Lucius, Hermione, and their relationship.
Cheers,
Elle
~oOo~
Sixth year, Part 5, 1996
They lived in a world at the precipice. At any second it felt as if life as she knew it would be flung from the edge of the knife. It was an exhausting way to live, scouring the papers daily for news, resisting the urge to use her bracelet to call Lucius or to simply portkey herself straight to their private haven, just to reassure herself that he was still alive and well.
And yet somehow, life went on. Ron made Gryffindor's quidditch team, thanks to an ickle bitty confundus charm on Cormac MacLaggen, not that she'd ever admit to it. Ron, flush with new-found confidence from his role on the team, began seeing Hermione's roommate, Lavender Brown. Personally she couldn't see what Ron saw in the giggly, insipid blonde witch who nauseatingly called him her "Won-Won." In comparison, Hermione thought that Lucius's moniker of "pet" for her was absurdly classy and understated. Quidditch matches and school rivalries went on, and young witches threw themselves at "the Chosen One," which frankly was going to Harry's head.
Classes continued, and Harry continued to use that insufferable "Half-Blood Prince's" potions book, which in Hermione's mind absolutely constituted cheating. Professor Slughorn was enamoured with Harry's supposed potions skills, and Hermione found the entire situation utterly unfair, as she and Draco both had bested Harry in potions for years now.
It was surreal to think about being caught up in the petty dramas of childhood and school, knowing what surely lay ahead for them all.
She wanted to see Lucius every time the students had a Hogsmeade weekend, but it wasn't feasible to feign illness every month. Harry and Ron may have been clueless at times, but even they'd notice if she missed every trip into the village. And really, with war looming, it made sense to spend time with Harry and Ron when she could. Above all, Lucius needed her to be discreet about their involvement, and raising suspicion with her friends would be unwise.
For a tense three weeks in late autumn, she did not hear from Lucius, either via bracelet or owl. Nothing seemed amiss with his son, so Hermione assumed he was alive and well. Still, she missed him terribly. She'd become accustomed to the occasional brief message late at night on her wrist, and the absence of them was distressing. Thus she was rather surprised to walk into the Three Broomsticks one early November afternoon to see her lover seated in a booth with Professor Snape and Draco. They appeared to be deep in conversation, Lucius looked oddly controlled, and Professor Snape's expression was stern. Draco looked…nervous. She frowned when she realised she could not hear them, a silencing spell obviously in use.
She knew it would be inappropriate to react to their presence, so she forced herself to focus on her friends as she seated herself and reached for a butterbeer. Quidditch was unfortunately the topic of conversation until Harry looked up and realised that Malfoy and his father were engaged in deep conversation with Professor Snape.
"I'm telling you, Malfoy's a Death Eater," Harry said with a scowl.
"Yeah, we know. It's bollocks the Ministry won't do anything about it," Ron said through a large bite of treacle tart. It was obvious Ron had heard Harry's rants about Lucius repeatedly in the months since the break-in in the Department of Mysterious.
"Not him. Malfoy Jr.," Harry said.
Hermione followed Harry's gaze and frowned. "I don't think so."
"What do you mean?"
"Just because his father is a Death Eater doesn't mean he is too," she pointed out.
"'Course it does!" Ron exclaimed. "They're a DARK family. All those families – Malfoy, Rosier, Lestrange, Yaxley – they're all supporters of old Voldy."
"And Black?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.
Ron's eyes cut to the Malfoys and then back to Harry and Hermione.
"That's not a fair comparison. Everyone knows Sirius opposed Voldemort from the start," Ron hissed.
"So what? You think Malfoy Jr. is some light wizard? Come on, Hermione, even you have to admit that's far-fetched!" Harry shot back.
"Well, no. I mean, we know he's not a light wizard, but he's not his father, any more than Sirius is HIS father. Isn't Dumbledore always talking about how we're defined by the choices we make?"
"Thus far I've yet to see him make any choices that make him look like anything other than a big prat," Ginny observed.
Well, that was… that was honestly a fair point, Hermione conceded to herself. Draco wasn't exactly the nicest of people. She really wasn't even sure why she felt compelled to defend him. She certainly didn't like him.
"Okay, so maybe he's not a Death Eater YET, but it's probably some Death Eater recruiting meeting," Ron said sourly.
Hermione glanced over at them again and frowned. "With Professor Snape?"
Harry shot her a dirty look and cut his eyes to Lavender. Hermione sighed. Ron's girlfriend was not part of the Order and likely did not know that their professor was a spy for Dumbledore.
Ginny changed the subject then, thankfully, and Hermione did her best to pay attention to the conversation whilst still watching the Malfoys and Professor Snape. Draco looked unhappy and then angry until he finally stomped off, and their meeting broke up. Hermione tried to extricate herself from the conversation and lunch, desperately hoping to see Lucius before he left.
Fortunately none of her friends wanted to spend their afternoon browsing Tomes & Scrolls bookstore, so she was able to dart away. She looked quickly up and down the main street in Hogsmeade, looking for a distinctive white blond head of hair. To her immense dismay, she did not see him. She heaved a sigh and decided she might as well go to the bookstore in case her friends came looking for her.
As she passed a narrow, dark alley, a gloved hand grabbed her, jerking her from the street. Hermione gasped in panic and reached for her wand, immediately casting a hex at her assailant, who anticipated the move and blocked it.
"Hush, pet," a familiar voice hissed.
"Lucius!" she gasped. She was pleasantly surprised that he'd found a way to see her, and she delighted in his presence. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, and his presence was so commanding. Her memories of time spent with him were nothing compared to being near him again in the flesh.
He smirked at her and pulled her further into the alley.
"How fortuitous that I should find you today, although I thought you'd be better prepared for the possibility of an attack."
"I cast a hex! And you could have sent me a message," she huffed.
"If it was a real attack, I could have apparated you away before you fired off a second hex. You know better. As for a message, I was unsure I'd be able to see you."
He held onto her upper arm with a firm grip as he walked them further into the alley.
"What was that, back at the Three Broomsticks?" she asked.
"Excuse me?"
"What was going on with Draco?"
The alley came to a dimly lit dead end, and Lucius stopped abruptly, turning her and shoving her back against the brick wall.
"Later," he hissed just before his lips crashed down on hers.
She was surprised by the sudden sexual overture, particularly given their semi-public location, but she wasn't about to stop him. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, realising quickly that whatever had transpired with his son had left Lucius angry, and that he appeared to want to use her as a means of stress relief.
He shoved her school robes off her shoulders and ripped her blouse open, sending buttons scattering into the alley.
"Lucius!" she gasped.
"I'll fix it. Hush."
His mouth was on her neck then, biting her hard enough to make her wince. The sensation of pain though merged with the pleasurable sensation of his fingers slipping into the cups of her bra to tease her nipples. She'd never known pain could feel this exquisite.
He hiked one of her legs to his hip, and she wrapped it around him, allowing him to ground his growing erection into her knickers.
"Lucius, take me to the lodge," she whispered.
"Shh…"
His fingers slipped into the soft cotton of her knickers and stroked her intimately, making her writhe in his hold.
"Someone will see!" she hissed frantically. She didn't want him to stop, but she also didn't want to get caught en flagrante delicto with Lucius Malfoy in the middle of an alley in Hogsmeade either.
"Then you'd better be quiet, and let's be quick before we're spotted," he murmured into her neck as he thrust two fingers into her. "Mmm...so wet already. Does it turn you on to be manhandled in public, pet?"
Her face burned in shame. She was indeed turned on, but she told herself it was less about the location - which was terrifying - and more about the man.
"I don't want to get caught," she whispered, arching her back against the wall and rolling her hips to the thrust of his fingers.
"We won't be."
With his free hand, he tugged at the lace of her bra, ripping it in his haste to expose her breasts. Before she could object, he bent his head to take her nipple between his teeth.
"Ahhh… oh god. Lucius!"
She clung to him, fingers winding in his hair, body writhing against his as he quickly and skillfully brought her to a powerful orgasm. He gave her no rest, no chance to catch her breath, withdrawing his fingers and spinning her around. Hermione quickly threw up her hands to brace herself on the stone wall.
"Need to be inside you now," he grunted, fumbling with his trousers.
"Yes, please!"
"That's it, beg me for it, pet."
"Please Lucius!"
She shivered as he tugged her knickers down her legs and flipped up her skirt, baring her arse to anyone who might wander down the alley.
"Say you need to be fucked," he whispered harshly, his breath hot on her ear.
She could feel him behind her, feel the warmth of his body, and oh god, feel the head of his cock brush against the back of her upper thigh. He gripped a handful of her hair, pulling her head back and making her arch her back and whimper.
"Say it!"
"I...I need to be fucked," she whispered, her face burning in mortification at the words, despite the truth behind them.
He pushed into her smoothly, groaning at the sensation.
"Good girl. Fuck, you're so wet, so tight."
There was nowhere for her to go, no way for her to move, as he had her pressed tightly between the wall and his body, his grip on her hip and her hair so harsh it was almost painful. She relaxed into his hold and moaned at the feel of him stretching her, filling her.
After that, there was no calculation, no rhyme or reason. Just passion and sensation and the hard thrust of his cock and the feel of his breath on her ear, her throat. Just the sound of her quiet whimpers and his grunts and the feel of his belt slapping against her thigh and her fingernails digging into the stone as she held on.
She'd seen enough muggle films and books to know that some people liked rough sex, but she'd not envisioned herself partaking of it and actually enjoying it until this moment. Lucius played her body like a finely tuned violin, countering bites on her neck, her shoulder, with the angle of his hips so his cock hit a spot inside of her that made her see stars. She pushed her arse back into him, begging for more.
"Yes, you like it don't you? Being taken against the wall like a common whore? Your pussy is dripping, pet." The crude words made her face redden in mortification, even as she recognised the truth in them. She did like the way he touched her. She loved that he knew how to make her feel so many sensations all at once.
He slid his hand around her hip and in between her legs, making her cry out when his fingers found her clit.
"Shhh...I'll have to silence you if you can't be quiet," he warned.
She heard his words, but the delicious torture of his cock and his fingers was too much, and it was impossible to hold back her moans. She half-expected him to withdraw his wand and cast a silencio over her, but to her surprise, he released his grip on her hair and brought his hand to her mouth, covering her lips at first and then pressing two fingers all the way into her mouth. She whimpered in embarrassment when she tasted herself on his fingers.
"Little witches who can't be quiet need to be gagged." His words were punctuated with a nip on her earlobe, which only made her arch into him more, her body deliciously tormented by his every move.
She was held in thrall, unable to move, unable to speak and perilously close to orgasm. She just needed a little bit more. Emboldened by the depravity of their coupling, she sucked on the fingers he'd forced into her mouth.
"Yes, that's it," he groaned, his hips speeding up as he thrust harder, faster, his fingertips rubbing in little circles around her clit.
Her world exploded in a wash of sensation, a flash of colour behind her closed eyes. He came seconds later, a harsh "fuck" on his lips as he filled her with his come.
She panted against the wall, feeling utterly debauched and euphoric over what they'd just done. Lucius's forehead rested on her shoulder as he caught his breath. Slowly, his fingers slipped from her mouth, trailing over her bottom lip, her chin, her throat.
"That was…" her voice was breathy and trailed off as she was unsure how to describe the intensity of this encounter. She was pretty sure her body was going to hurt tonight or in the morning, but she didn't want to tell Lucius that.
"That was exactly what I needed," he said quietly.
She felt bereft as he moved away from her then, and a little bit chilled before he pulled up her knickers and smoothed the hem of her skirt over the curve of her arse. She turned around and tried to cover her breasts with her ripped blouse. Lucius ignored her as he tucked himself back into his trousers and righted his own clothes. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling awkward - and sticky.
"Allow me to repair your clothing," he said as he withdrew his wand. She watched in silence as buttons flew to her blouse and stuck themselves back into place and the lace of her bra cup knitted itself back together. She gratefully buttoned her blouse then and made herself presentable.
She thought that perhaps she'd concealed her shock over what had just transpired between them, but she was clearly mistaken when he spoke up.
"I've overwhelmed you. I did not mean...are you well? Did I hurt you?" he asked in a more conciliatory tone.
In truth, she figured she would be sore, but for reasons she did not fully understand, she shook her head in the negative.
His lips twisted in a bit of a smile then, and he smoothed her hair with his hand.
"Good. I must apologise for taking you so roughly, but I was...I am dealing with a most difficult situation, and I should not have taken my anger out on you." His words and posture were stiff, formal.
"Are you okay?" she asked carefully.
He ran his fingers through his long blond hair and sighed. "No. The Dark Lord...the Dark Lord has chosen to bestow what He believes is a great honour upon me."
Hermione blanched. She could only imagine what Voldemort considered an 'honour.'
"He wishes to offer my son a place among His chosen."
"But, but Draco is only-"
"He is still a child. He will not be of age until June. In the past, the Dark Lord would have His Death Eaters prove themselves worthy of a place in His circle, to prove their skill and devotion. This was offered to a select few wizards once they came of age, and only if He deemed them worthy could they be marked," he spat.
Hermione shivered. Lucius's anger was intimidating, and she was worried for her lover.
"He wants my son. He wants MY SON!" His voice was raised enough that Hermione was fearful others would hear them or stumble upon them, so she reached for her own wand and cast a muffliato and a notice-me-not charm. It was a pity she'd not had her wits about her enough to cast the spells before, she noted silently.
Lucius, sensing that he was now free to express his anger, wandlessly and wordlessly exploded an empty barrel behind him and then knitted it back together. Magical energy still radiated from him, and she watched in silence as he repeated this explosion and repair several more times. She waited until he had calmed somewhat before speaking.
"Can you send Draco away? Transfer him to another school perhaps, and keep him from harm's way until the war was over?" She knew she would never abandon Harry - or Lucius - but she thought Draco likely had no such qualms.
"No, I cannot. It would be foolhardy to anger Him that way. Such an act would risk my own life, and I cannot protect my son if I am not here." His shoulder slumped at this admission, and Hermione felt her own sense of rage at the idea that Voldemort had made this proud, brilliant, talented wizard feel so impotent.
"You have until June though, right? To help him prepare for what is to come? Or to come up with some other sort of plan?" she offered.
He shook his head, and she was struck at how weary he suddenly looked.
"He means to mark Draco on his 17th birthday."
She looked on in horror before she thought back to the scene she'd witnessed at the Three Broomsticks.
"Draco has already been asked to prove himself in some way, hasn't he?" she asked in a whisper.
Lucius looked away. "Yes. The Dark Lord views it as a 'reward' to me for my 'faithful service,'" he said with a bitter laugh. "He considers it a high honor to induct one so young, to offer a barely adult wizard a place in His inner circle. He has laid claim to my entire bloodline, it seems. My father. Me. My only son and heir."
For a moment, Hermione allowed her mind to wander, to think about a world where Voldemort reigned supreme and could compel his followers to turn over their children to His service, a world where Draco would know from his own son's birth that his child was destined to serve a madman. She could only imagine the sort of agony Lucius was in.
"How does one prove oneself to V- the Dark Lord?" she asked carefully, almost afraid of the answer.
"Draco has been given a task. Please do not ask me for details - I was forced to take a vow of secrecy."
He grimaced at this, and Hermione didn't blame him. Magical oaths and vows could backfire on a person in horrible ways if magic deemed you in violation of your promise.
"If I could do it for him, Merlin, if I could prevent the inevitable, if I could spare him everything I have had to do, I would." He looked away from her then and took a deep breath to regain his composure.
"He...he isn't going to have to kill anyone, is he?" she whispered. On the one hand, she really had a hard time seeing Draco as a killer. He was a bully sure, and a right git most of the time, but it was almost all talk from him. On the other hand, if he was seriously planning to murder someone, she did not have it in her to just sit back and let someone die.
"No, not for this. Once he is marked though, I will have to do what I can to prevent him from being sent on any missions for the Dark Lord. If I can shepherd my son safely through the summer, the threats to his safety at school next year may be reduced."
"What about Dumbledore? About his skills as a legilimens?"
Lucius smiled wryly. "I would not leave my son's mind unprotected, pet. He's received occulumency lessons for many years and is good at closing off his mind."
He heaved a heavy sigh. "I do not know if there are others in Draco's year or the year above him though who have also been given a task by the Dark Lord. It would not be unheard of for Him to use a student as a spy, to test the loyalty of those who would seek to serve Him."
Hermione wanted to comfort him in some way, but she was unsure what she could do or say.
"You are in most of Draco's classes, are you not?" Lucius asked.
"Yes, most."
"You must watch over him for me."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at his request. "It's true that we have similar schedules, but we live on opposite sides of the castle, and he doesn't want anything to do with me."
He rubbed at his face in frustration. "I know. I know this. Do what you can, pet. Do it for me. It would make me feel so much better to know that there's someone in that castle I trust, someone who is also looking out for Draco. I know you cannot be everywhere, but if there is a way you can protect my son, I want you to do it. He's my child."
In that moment, an image flashed in Hermione's mind of Lucius cradling a tiny baby with a smattering of blond hair and fair skin like his own. His obvious love for his son twisted Hermione's heart. She already adored the handsome wizard before her, but picturing him with a baby, as a devoted father, made her love him even more.
"I'll do it. I'll do it for you," she promised.