Author's Note: Yah! Vacation! I'm right now on a little island in the middle of nowhere on the sea surely very drunk singing my voice off and striping naked and swimming in some river. This chapter is unbetaed and published by my mum. I love me mum. Be nice to her. Eventually wave to her from your computer.
Julie: I'm in vacation on dead island far from civilisation aw well. Asked mum to update so nice people wouldn't be bothered by me being away.
Grey Mercury: Kids are never too young for good, solid angst. I know, I know, it's horrible to see the scorching mistakes I make in my texts. Shame on me, I know. Chapter seven is being posted and is unbetaed due to reasons explained above.
As for your beta-ship…. I feel very honoured, but…. I have to decline. I already have my beta Julie. She was on vacation so she couldn't beta. She's my prime Beta.
Sateen's Spawn: Hum… You know, Hermione and Lucius haven't fallen madly in love yet! Kids will come after Lucius proposes to Hermione (in an über kitsch- I mean sweet and romantic way) and where she realizes she's madly in love with him (at least, in love enough to have sex) and there would be the obligatory sweet/smutty chapter describing their first time having sex (3 times in a row, in fact). Their first child would be a girl I think; Lucius would fully understand how wonderful it would be to have children. He would of course help Hermione give birth to it and Hermione would off course NOT have any sort of pregnancy screeches. As for names, I was thinking something like Lucione (It's the fusion of 'Lucius' and 'Hermione', see? Isn't it CUTE?). I'm open to your choices though.
GuardGirl2: Hoho! New Chapter. More stuff breeding! (Fear an explosion in later chapters)
Perilous: New chapter… Mnehehee. I feel like a fic-dealer.
Gcho831: Hey! Someone actually liked my word plays! That's awesome!
Enchantedlight: Upda-aaaa-aaaate!
CareBareErin: Thank you for your point of view and yes- You will read some of the Order dealings in later chapters. Lucius twist situations rather well. And thank you-thank you- thank you for pointing out very obvious stuff I forget. Can you please continue on doing that? Point out scenes I forgot.
WhoGirl: Yes! A weekly update would be nice… only that it's summer and I never know where I'll be next day… so… I guess my updates are still going to be all irregular. Hmm… On what day are you born? That'll be the update day.
The-Sexy-Flower: I'm happy I managed to make it up. Mistakes aren't that bad really. Hey- I would have a very funny fic idea but I would need an extra writer… Interested?
Hotskittles: New update! Chapter! Happy Times! You keep on reviewing like a good fan!
Lala! 62 reviews! How can I ever thank you enough? I am so grateful for your time and reviews. Lala.
My Dirty Little Secret.
As Hermione woke up later, it was still merrily bright outside. She sat up slowly, carefully watching where she put her weight; her legs didn't hurt, yet she knew that a false movement would bring back the pain.
"- You had a quite long nap, Hermione."
Hermione checked the window again. True, the light was the one of an early morning. Goddess she had been tired then. She couldn't talk even if she would have wanted to. Stale saliva had stuck her tongue on her palate; her mouth was very dry.
Just as she had thought this, a hand with a glass of water appeared under her nose. She opened her mouth to protest, but Lucius used the opportunity to slip water into her mouth. Hermione spluttered half of the water over herself.
She knew it was stupid, but she felt very dirty suddenly. Not mentally, but literally dirty; she had fought in the same cloths in which she had slept and bled on. Hermione needed urgently a bath; she stank. It was embarrassing; to stink publicly of sweat is surely the worst thing that could happen to her.
During Hermione's Fifth year at Hogwarts, she had had a crush on her friend Ron Weasly. She knew he liked her a bit more than just a friend. She could have been a potential girlfriend to him. Hermione often wished that Ron would finally ask her out. She really liked him, fantasized even about an eventual common future with him. Until Christmas.
Ron had made the fundamental mistake of giving her… perfume. The intention had been sweet, surely, but Hermione had perceived it as a huge insult. She knew Ron didn't think she stank, but receiving perfume made her think this. It would have been okay if the bottle had been small, elegant and containing a nice little fragrance; Ron had given her a one litre glass bottle filled with a yellowish liquid reminding one of pee which stank to the heavens. The 'perfume' smelled like roses, violets and something undeniable chemical (Hermione realised later on they used something similar during Potions class to make insecticide). It smelled like those WC toilet cakes or sprays people put in restaurant toilets. This had killed her crush on Ron.
Hermione shifted her body, slowly trying to sit down so her legs could touch the floor. Just as she tried to stand up (there was still a possibility she could stand on her legs), she wondered where the bathroom was.
There was three doors the room; one of them brought her here, another one was surely a door to a bathroom, the third one…. Went somewhere else. Now Hermione didn't know where to go; her face had been hidden in his robes, as she hid her face from the world so she could cry bitter tears. In other words, she had no idea where to go.
Lucius was watching her, and understood her distress. But before he could do anything, Hermione stood up with a determined face. She extended her arms to gain some balance; she stood like a newborn foal, unsure of the strength of her legs. She lifted her knee tentatively, looking a bit like a stork.
But as she tried to take her first step, she lost balance and fell on the floor. Since she couldn't buckle her knees anymore, she kissed the ground in a way that seemed quite painful. Her hands were extended, and she fell on them. A tiny crack was heard, and Hermione's arms glided over the waxed parquet, and now, her head knocked the floor.
Hermione hissed; she refused to cry again. She had used up her quota of tears for the month. He would not see her cry. She didn't have a wand, she didn't have her legs, her forces and strength were betraying her; there was no way he could also see her pride crack up. Pride was the only thing she had left.
She closed her eyes and slowly, very slowly flopped over on her back. She moved her hands carefully, testing if her wrists were hurt. There was a bit of pain, but nothing bad. The little ache was one thing she loved; her greatest joy whilst training her body had been to punch her punching bag with her arm until that little ache started. This pain reminded her of the power she still had in her.
Hermione needed a decent meal and an inner prep talk, and she could try to turn the situation to her advantage.
Lucius winced as he saw her fall. He admired the curve her body made as she fell and how her hair reflected light as it flied around her head. It looked really pretty. Seeing her so vulnerable on the floor, unable to move of her own, moved him deeply. She was his mercy really; he could do anything he wanted to her and no one –not even she- could stop him.
He smiled at his carnal thoughts and walked over to Hermione, obscene pictures posing in his head. But instead of doing something rash, he scooped up the girl in his arms, marvelling the feeling of her skin. The fact of taking her in his arms instead of taking her (rape her) felt much more intimate.
Hermione was surprised and horrified as Lucius picked her up. He slide his hand between her legs and shoved her legs on his other arm. As he lifted her up, her body glided down to his elbow. He held her against him by supporting her weight with one arm between her legs. The feeling of the fabric of his robe against between her tights was repugnant. His hands held her legs at the folds of her knees tightly, thus increasing the pressure of Hermione's legs around his hand.
Lucius walked out her room by the door which had farthest away from her bed. There wasn't a bathroom behind this door; there was a short corridor with huge window panels incrusted in the walls. Hermione turned her head and watched outside.
There was a forest outside the windows; Hermione could see high branches of trees, heavy with apples. The sky was bright but mulled with dirty white clouds. Hermione yearned to be outside at that moment; she wanted to roll on the green grass and collect leafs like she did when she was a little girl. She felt the arm between her legs again, and trembled. It was so wrong.
Lucius stopped in front of the smallest bathroom of the Manor; it might be smallest bathroom, but it had two advantages: the first one was the exquisite statues and architecture of the room; the second element was the sitting bath. Lucius feared what Hermione might do if she was left in a normal bath; she might slip underwater and not be able get to the surface in time.
Hermione had a pleasant surprise as she saw the sitting bath. You couldn't find many of them nowadays. A sitting bath was a very small bathtub with a sort of little bench in the middle, where you could sit. Hermione's grandparents had one of those bathtubs before they moved away from their old two stored house to a retirement home.
Lucius put Hermione on a small white enamel chair, and started to slowly unbutton the back of her dress. He laced off the corset of her skirt and took off the bandages around her knees slowly and delicately.
"- How do you want your water?"
"- Scolding hot."
Her underwear was still on. She refused to get naked in front of him. Her hair was gratefully hiding her upper body. Lucius played with the water taps, and rivulets of hot water streamed out from the tubes, filling the tub with streaming water.
As the tub was half full (or half empty), Lucius bent down over to her and again passed his arm between her legs. Only this time, he held her against his body with his other arm, his own breath short from the emotion and effort. He carried her on the length of maybe two meters, yet it felt much more to both of them.
He deposited Hermione gently in the bath; the water was so hot Hermione's toes felt like they were on fire. She yelped and passed her arms that had been hanging limply, tightly against Lucius's neck. He almost dropped her in surprise.
They stayed there for some time, unmoving, feeling the forms of each others bodies. It was an odd and uncomfortable embrace. Hermione wanted to get off, yet she didn't fight. Rather be held for a moment more than burnt.
Finally Hermione dipped her foot tentatively in the water. It was hot, yet she knew it wouldn't burn her. She tried to glide off the man's grip, but he held close. He slowly deposited her, wetting his own robes, immerging almost with her under the water. However, he took off his arms and sat down on the enamel chair which he turned a bit away from Hermione so she could have her intimacy. But the bathroom was quite small and Lucius had long legs; his chair was roughly a meter away from Hermione.
Hermione bit her lip as she felt the water brushing her wounds. It hurt, yet it felt somehow very good in a sadistic way. Hermione bent down and dipped her head in the hot water washing off the sweat, blood, problems and dilemmas she had for a short time. It was very pleasant to have a nice bath. Even if her captor guarded her.
Hermione shook her head, he heard the prassling sound it made. Water droplets fell on his hair and face. One drop had landed just above his lip, and Lucius licked it off. Although technically Hermione was dirty, the water tasted clean. Clean and healthy.
"- You know, it's odd that you are so nice to me.
"-What do you mean?
" -Usually people are nice so they would be left alone.
"- Hermione, how can you be so sure about that ?
"- It's a fact; facts are the most stubborn things in the world."
"- You misinterpret the situation; but I agree that you are right in that. If you would be an important hostage, you would be right; however you are mine."
"- Nothing ever really belongs to you. That's a thing that everyone should know; it's one of the secrets if life.
"- No, Hermione, the true secret of live is to get involved with one thing completely, and then get interested in a thousand other ones. In other words: obsessions belongs to life. You are my obsession now; therefore not my hostage. So logically I can be as nice as I want to you."
"-You are obsessed with beauty.
"- You are beauty; we already stated that.
"- You know… I thought about what you told me about beauty and truth. There's a flaw in your reasoning; you forgot one thing; truth is like the number zero: it needs emptiness to be true. Truth needs shallowness to be true. Beauty, true beauty, isn't shallow."
By time the discussion had ended, Hermione's fingers were wrinkled. Somewhere between talking and thinking, she had taken off her underwear. Now, she wondered what to put on. She refused to stay naked, yet her cloths were discarded on the floor, out of her reach. Luckily for her, there was long, white, old fashioned night gown next to her bathtub as well as towels.
Hermione put on the nightgown when still in her bath, soaking it completely in mere seconds. She lifted her weight with her arms and slipped it underneath her buttocks and around her legs. She was ready.
Lucius turned around and bent down to pick up Hermione. He was a bit disappointed to see her clothed, but got excited by the sensuality it was giving her; the thin wet fabric suggested the curve of her breaths and the dark triangle between her legs.