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The clock chimed ten when the door to Lucius's office opened, distracting him from the letter he almost finished writing. A bare leg seductively slithered along the wooden door, followed by the rest of the witch in a red dress.
Violet always knew how to make an entrance. Except her feminine wiles were utterly lost on Lucius as she sauntered up to his desk and provocatively perched on the edge.
"Still working?" she asked.
"As always," was the answer she received.
"Oh, poo! I was hoping to entice you away for a nightcap." She pouted. Undoubtedly this usually got her exactly what she wanted.
Lucius turned back to his letter. "I have to finish this before Friday."
"Oh, yes," Violet purred. "You're leaving for your witch's conference. How very supportive of you." She traced her red polished finger along his sleeve.
"All the more reason for you to come out to the Blue Room with me tonight. I was hoping to properly thank you for all your help with this winery venture," she cooed. "I can't believe how quickly you've filed for permits already."
"No need to thank me, Violet," he said. "I told you, I'd help."
"Will you be there when they come to survey it?"
Lucius gave brisk nod, setting the quill aside as he finished the letter. "Of course."
"That's good. Now don't be so tiresome. Come to the Blue Room with me to toast our success."
Not wanting to wound her vanity, Lucius reluctantly agreed. There was no harm in one drink and on Friday he'll have a long weekend with the most lovely witch. His mood became lighter at the thought of her. He could almost smell her seductive fragrance again. The days without Hermione had been torturous. He thought of little else but how she felt in his arms … so delicate … all softness and warmness. And she was his, all his.
Lucius hardly heard a word from Violet's mouth since they've arrived to the Blue Room. His thoughts were still consumed with Hermione even as he clinked his Firewhisky to Violet's glass of wine.
She still droned on about the vineyards in Douro Valley that she planned on transforming into a winery. Her hand slowly ran down the buttons on his shirt. He swiftly grasped her wandering hand in his to halt her unwelcome exploration.
"Violet, please." he said sternly.
She whispered intensely in his ear, "Lucius, you don't have to pretend. I've missed you. Do you think I've forgotten how much fun we used to have together?" Her face bent closer to his and her lips parted in expectant anticipation.
"Violet, I think you've had too much to drink," Lucius said, putting acceptable social distance back between them. She reclaimed her seat with great alacrity.
"Not at all." She let out a sultry laugh and placed her hand on his knee. "Remember the night the Dark Lord came back? If he had the decency to wait a few more hours before summoning you to that dreadful place, we might have finished our favorite dance." Her hand squeezed his thigh. "At least now we can pick up where we left off. It's even better now actually. Nicky is no longer around to play the Argus and you're finally free of that frigid milquetoast."
He was just about to set the presumptuous wench straight when he saw her. It was as though he conjured her up so often all evening that she had no choice but to show up now. Except she looked positively horrified to see him. The next second she whirled around and fled.
Hermione's heart broke in her chest. Her eyes burned with tears she was trying so hard to suppress. She didn't see it. She didn't see it. The man she was falling in love with was not letting some other witch cling all over him like a barnacle. Who knows how much she didn't see or how much she interrupted?
She cursed Ginny for convincing her to come out for a girls' night out, cursed her for setting her up on the blind date that led to this, and cursed the amount of Blue Room's signature test tube cocktails she consumed tonight in her festive, celebratory mood that now slowed down her progress towards exit. Most of all, she cursed Lucius Malfoy and his Other Woman.
A horrible thought occurred to Hermione. What if she was the other woman? What if he was lying to her about being available? She hadn't been to the Manor since they started seeing each other, so who knew what his true living situation was.
A hand suddenly wrapped around her arm and pulled her back.
"Hermione, slow down. Let me give you a ride home, so I can explain," Lucius said. His patronizing tone riled her.
"I don't need an explanation. I saw it with my own eyes, Lucius," she hissed at him, trying not to make their row look too obvious to the other patrons. "You said you were working late and I find you out with another woman. Contrary to what you may think of me, I'm not an idiot. I know exactly what it means!"
"Come now, I wasn't lying. Violet insisted on buying me a drink as a thank you for helping her with the winery project. She got carried away with her reminiscing. Nothing happened. I made it very clear I had no interest in her whatsoever."
Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "If you made it so clear, then what was her hand doing on your leg?"
His face was ashen. "Now you know I wouldn't have let anything happen. If you don't trust me with that, then this is another conversation entirely."
She grimaced. "Meaning?"
"Meaning if you believe your imagination or assumptions more than my words, then we need to reevaluate our situation," he ominously clarified. "I have agreed to a work on a joint business project together with her. It means I'll be spending a significant amount of time in her company. I can't have you jumping to conclusions every time that has to happen."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Hermione demanded.
"Hermione, I'm not in the habit of running my business decisions past anyone. If you think our liaison means otherwise, you're wrong," he coldly told her. "My personal life never interferes with my professional one."
"So I'm supposed to be okay with her pawing at you?" she snarked at him.
"No. She crossed the line. But you must trust me to know that I wouldn't!"
"So you've never cheated on your wife with Lady Violet?" Hermione didn't know what had possessed her to ask this question. Somewhere in her mind, since she had read that article in The Spectator, she had wondered. It was a quiet whisper in the recesses of her mind, but now it demanded to be heard … and answered.
His eyes widened, then he looked away, the muscle in his jaw twitched. "Hermione, what happened in my marriage had nothing to do with us. That situation is entirely incomparable to ours. It was a dynastic union. It wasn't … us."
It wasn't an answer, but it told her all she needed to know.
The air in the room became unbearably heavy. Hermione could feel the blood draining from her face and pool somewhere at her feet. She was not going to cry. She wouldn't let him see how much he hurt her.
Turning to Lucius, she said, "You ask me to trust you, but how can I? It's only a matter of time before you'll do the same thing to me … with the same woman."
His eyes were full of emotion as he shook his head. "Hermione, that would never happen. If I can't convince you, then I don't see how we can move forward."
Hermione took a deep breath. A sad realization dawned on her.
They were breaking up. Their romance was over before it could fully flourish.
"So then … we don't," she concluded.
He looked away. "Perhaps you should take the time to think things over. There is no point in making decisions in anger."
Tears clouded her vision as she spoke, "Like you said, I don't see how I can move forward if my boyfriend is going to be finding himself in compromising positions with the woman he cheated on his wife with. I don't see what would stop you from doing the same under even less commitment to adhere to."
She turned and walked away, silently hoping he'll follow. He'll take her home and explain everything.
But he didn't follow.
Tears that the young witch had been holding back finally fell down her cheeks as she walked home. When she arrived, she sank down onto her bed and finally submitted to her sorrow. The room soon filled with her desperate, heartbroken sobs. She was so angry for losing herself in him so soon, angry for trusting with her heart so casually to a man she should have been most weary of, angry for still loving him.
He was going to be hell to get over. There was just no one quite like Lucius Malfoy. And there never will be.
Next day, with a heavy heart, she set out for Riga.
Alone.
Hermione held her head high as she strolled into the ballroom with a long, dark runway. After weeks of crying her eyes out at home, she finally let Ginny convince her to come out and support her and her team in their charitable endeavor. As she approached her front row seat, Draco Malfoy's coterie wolf-whistled in her direction. She looked irritated, but was rather pleased. Ginny was right to loan Hermione her new, short cobalt number with the highest pair of silver heels she ever worn. Just because her heart was dying inside didn't mean that she had to look haggard.
"Damn, Granger, maybe you should be on the runway and not in the audience," Theodore Nott told her, leaning over Draco.
"No lie," Draco concurred. "Doesn't Granger look nice, Father?"
Hermione froze. She didn't see him. He must have entered after her.
His voice came from a row behind the young people. "Since I'm not a young wizard ruled by my hormones, I'm not easily impressed with witches who display their wares like common streetwalkers."
"Don't listen to him, Granger. He's too old to appreciate anybody's wares," Theodore quipped.
Draco gave her a tight smile. "If you're wondering why Mother divorced him, this is Exhibit A."
Hermione didn't comment on anything, but turned to looked back at Lucius. The cold indifference in his eyes and his disdainful sneer was impossible to miss. This was the Death Eater she had known for most of her life; it was not the man she was falling in love with all summer.
She gave him a glare of her own and turned back to the front, begging for the show to begin.
When it finally did, Ginny Weasley stole the show, wowing even her most cynical critics. She loped down the catwalk in lacy lingerie and sheer dresses, eliciting whoops and cheers from the male members of the audience. In the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco applauding, open-mouthed and impressed as he stared after Ginny's retreating form.
"That's a side of little Ginny Weasley I didn't know existed," said Theodore, nudging Draco.
"Yeah, who knew Ginny … smoldering, sexy temptress," Draco mumbled.
Theodore snorted. "Since when are you so poetic?"
Draco didn't answer, but continued to stare off into space, only becoming animated again when Ginny made her appearance on the runway again. Hermione recognized that look in his eyes. It's how she looked at Lucius when he wasn't making disparaging remarks about her. She chanced a quick glance behind her, Lucius's eyes burned back into hers, then haughtily looked away.
After the show, Hermione congratulated Ginny, who looked completely dazed to find herself the toast of London. Draco and his friends gathered round her, showering her with compliments of how brilliant she was. Draco especially seemed glued to her side. Hermione remembered the time when another pair of Malfoy gray eyes used to look at her with same admiration. Now they only stared at her in contempt.
"Miss Granger," Lucius drawled.
"What do you want?" she responded, looking into her champagne glass.
"I wish to speak to you," he said, trying to step closer to her, but she evaded him.
"Really, Mr. Malfoy, you have said enough tonight. I'm surprised you have anything to say to witches who display 'their wares like common streetwalkers'. Have a good evening."
"You have to let me explain," he insisted.
Hermione looked at him again. There was an uncertainty in his eyes, a sadness.
"This isn't a proper place to explain anything," she said more gently before stalking off, missing the way he stared after her until she was out of sight.
Lucius and Hermione faced the first test of their relationship, but will it be their last?