Chapter 5, y'all. This will almost catch you up to where I am, but not quite. I'm writing this faster than I anticipated, maybe because it isn't as involved as the Big One I'm working on.

Here we come to the crux of this evening at Chez Slythindor, but there are always more surprises to come. Always.

Thank you for all the support! 35 people have followed this so far, so that means 35 of you are at least looking for some Lumione love, or enjoy a Drarry mention (which they will eventually get their own bit in this).

Standard disclaimer and the warnings in the first chapter apply

"Narcissa should be along shortly. From my understanding, she is bringing a… guest." Oh, hell. Narcissa. Her friendship with the woman was invaluable and here Hermione was ogling her ex-husband. Actually, now that she considered it, Cissy had been very clear that she and Lucius were simply the dearest of friends these days. According to Cissy, their romantic love had died with the resurrection of the Dark Lord of God Complexes.

Even judging by his reaction, Lucius was nowhere near jealous. He did seem less than enthusiastic about the attendance of said guest, but so were she and Draco, if they were being honest. Neither of them liked or even trusted one Monsieur Henri Boulanger.

Right.

If he was French, Ronald Weasley was to be the next Minister and the Goblins would declare a bank holiday.

Hermione shared a look with Draco, who was still petulant, but calming down. Gazing back at Lucius, there was a tension in his jaw. No, he did not like the man who had weaseled his way into Narcissa Black's life.

"I'm not one for mindless conjecture, but you can't stand him either, can you, Mr. Malfoy?" She asked, obviously not enjoying the idea of gossiping, but feeling concerned for the woman who had become a close friend to her. She gestured to the seating, choosing to take the overstuffed wingback by the muggle turntable she had charmed while the two men simply sat on the settee. It wasn't the least bit petty or annoying when Draco made it a point to ruffle the throw she had laid just so over the back.

Nor was the wandless nonverbal spell she used to raise one spring in his cushion to always poke him soundly in his poncey arse no matter how he rearranged himself.

"Lucius, my dear." He smiled at the way her pretty face reddened while she nodded. Draco shifted restlessly beside him. "And no, I am not fond of this Mr. Boulanger." All three shared a look of joint disgust thinking of the man, and Lucius shook his head. "Of course, I've expressed my concerns to Narcissa, but I doubt they were heeded."

"I felt the same after I said something, as well," Draco chimed in next to Lucius, moving around a bit before he settled in his spot again. "She deflected, didn't she? Acted like you had simply mentioned unfavourable weather?" His father nodded and Draco looked to Hermione who sat watching them, sipping her glass. "What about you? Didn't you have tea two days ago?"

Her auburn and wheat curls bounced as she nodded. "Same result. I think she knows something about him, though. This dinner was essentially her idea, remember Draco?" He nodded in response, recalling the way in which his mother had basically tricked him into a dinner party at lunch two weeks before. "Who was the first to bring up Boulanger?"

The two men conversed briefly, the elder finally nodding at the witch. "I was, at brunch two weeks ago," he replied, curiosity clear as he wondered where the Gryffindor witch was going with the conversation.

"Okay, so Lucius was the first to express concern. She dismissed yours easily enough, at first, but then Draco said something over lunch, which is where the idea of us all getting together also started." Her finger tapped her chin in thought. "Then, well, me. She knows we all suspect the man, so she's bringing him to face all four of us?" Hermione shook her head, lips slowly spreading in a dark grin that made ignited the low heat of arousal in Lucius' gut. He made no attempt to hide his feelings from the young woman who was staring back just as openly, running her tongue along her full bottom lip before it sunk between her teeth.

"It's a set up," his son exclaimed suddenly, shifting in his seat again and breaking Lucius' admiration of the nymph in the overstuffed chair. Draco met his eye in silent question, Lucius raising a blonde brow in reply. Across from them, Hermione stood with a sigh, heading into the kitchen to set the food under warming charms. Neither had broken their stare, both making similar noises of acknowledgement when she announced to the room she would return.

"What are you doing?" Draco hissed to his father. "You were- no! And you hated- you tried to- and I know you've been lonely, but- my father! - she's my best friend! You can't have her." The boy proceeded to illustrate his maturity by crossing his arms and glowering. He huffed against the back of the settee, setting his jaw, the effect of which was ruined by his increasing wiggling.

The senior Malfoy calmly but quietly asked one thing before his progeny hastened away. "I doubt she shares your concerns, judging by your discomfort. Further, does she know you're shagging hers?"

Tickled chuckling followed Draco as he nearly ran to the safety of the Gryffindor witch in the kitchen.