Chapter 4! I might actually finish something longer than a one-shot! So things are starting to get more involved, as Lucius has arrived to Chez Slythindor (Draco tried to protest, but then accidentally dropped the name while at the pub with his friends. It's a thing.).

Drop a line and send a thanks to AnimeFreak and dshell for this chapter's early arrival, as well as all the followers and those who've favorited this.

Standard disclaimer applies, and warnings are at the beginning of Chapter 1.

"As you say, Miss Granger," the elder blonde smirked slightly, amused by her frightened leap into the air. Her hair fluffed around her face when she spun to face him, exploding in a tidal wave of chaos as it broke free from the band. The low thwack off to the side as the errant hair accessory made contact broke the silence, Granger's expressive face belying both her embarrassment and amusement with a blush, wide eyes, and a lip between her teeth to hide her giggle. She ducked her head and began frantically checking the state of her attire for wrinkles still snickering slightly, Lucius' gaze following her hands over her curves.

While the young chit had been a thorn in his somewhat unwilling side, Lucius had to admit she had grown up. 'Maybe not up, per se,' he considered. 'Merlin, she's small.' In reality, she was maybe five-four, but compared to his six-one frame, she seemed miniature. Lucius met his son's eyes briefly, shock evident in the younger man's, and not a small bit of disgust and anger. So Draco had caught him out while he was enjoying the view from the Floo, he mused to himself, making a show of slowly scanning the pretty, curvaceous witch and shooting a roguish grin to his son. Red spots appeared high on Draco's cheeks and his stare hardened.

The elder Malfoy met Hermione's stare when she lifted her head in his periphery, and gently grasped her hand, raising it to his lips with a slight bow. The young woman before him had matured since the war, her cheeks no longer round with the baby fat of youth, eyes wise and mouth supple with sensuality as they spread in a satisfied if shy smile.

'Be polite, indeed,' he thought, watching the flattered flush race over her expressive face. If that was her reaction, Lucius Malfoy would be the paragon of pedigree and class.

If someone, when she had first met him years ago in Flourish and Blotts, had told Hermione Jean Granger that she would one day be on the receiving end of Lucius Malfoy's charm rather than ire, she'd have soundly laughed and proclaimed that person an idiot of the highest order. If that same person had mentioned that she would also swoon, she'd have had them committed. Yet, here she was, nearly twenty-two years of age, experiencing the rush in her gut and warmth twixt her nethers. 'Why do I read period dramas so damn much?' she thought helplessly just before his deep voice vibrated through the digits she hadn't even realized he was holding.

"It is lovely to see you again, Miss Granger," the man before her murmured against her knuckles. Well, wasn't that just a new sensation? Hermione had read many things, had quite the reputation for being in the upper echelons of swottiness, but she had not previously known that the sight and feeling of a well-mannered, attractive (single, hallelujah) man gently running his really fucking soft lips across her digits could be considered erotic.

"Hermione, please." Was that her voice, all… breathy and shit?

'Fuck, was that his tongue?' Her eyes flew to his as thought to confirm the thought, and the smoulder in his look had her biting the inside of her cheek. 'It was, holy fuck.' Somewhere in the forbidden parts of her thoughts, she vaguely wondered what he looked like naked. He was making it no secret that he wondered the same about her. Oh, but wasn't that just terrible? They had been on opposing sides (she had a thing for bad boys, smash the patriarchy to bits, please), he was much older (like a fine wine, or - or cheese, ugh, bad analogy), he literally gave one of her best friends half of his DNA (and makes cute babies, what. the. nope.) and tried to kill the other one (he did say he was sorry, no seriously, what am I doing).

He stepped back slightly brandishing a bottle of wine, because alcohol was exactly the opposite of what this unexpectedly charged situation needed, which she took. Whatever devil had decided to possess her had her hands brushing against his when she pulled the vessel from his grasp, further inspiring her to add a bit more swivel to her hips on her slight trek to the liquor cabinet for a corkscrew.

"Are you even fucking serious right now?" she heard Draco mutter to her as she passed by him to grab the implement, giving her exasperated eyes. On one hand, she could understand his frustration and, frankly, the general ickiness of the situation. She was flirting with his dad, for Godric's sake. That had to be weird, not that she had a problem personally with the thought.
This brought about the other hand. One, who the hell was Draco to judge her? She remembered that muggle Uni professor he had had a brief fling with two or three months before. Besides, it had been ages since she had had anything non-electrical between her legs, and she would be damned if the Fantastic Flouncing Ferret ruined some harmless flirting for her.

"I will stab you," she said back, just as quietly passing by on her return. They exchanged a dirty look before Hermione plastered a smile on her face and walked up to Lucius, handing him the screw. While he worked, she turned to the blonde across the room who was still glaring to mouth the words 'oh, professor', gaining a two fingered salute and hiding her near fit of laughter behind a polite cough. Her amusement plummeted a moment later when their guest reminded the both of them of the real reason for this party.

"Narcissa should be along shortly. From my understanding, she is bringing a… guest."