"Severus will murder me the next time he comes calling," Lucius muttered into his wine glass. A smirk belied his irritated tone. "'You could have owled to let me know Miss Granger would be joining you, Lucius. My image as a surly eater of children's souls is now forever ruined if she speaks out. Oh, woe is me!'"

Hermione covered her snort, shaking her head at the image of the Great Bat of the Dungeon looming Dementor-like over a child only to trip over his house slippers. It might combat Neville's boggart of Snape dressed as his grandmother. The two ideas shimmered on the surface of her imagination, broadening her smile. She would have to owl Neville; tea had been much too stiff for such gossip.

Old Mrs. Longbottom knew Lucius Malfoy, as all the old families knew one another, though the two were not particularly close. Since Neville had begun to socialize with the dethroned patriarch, it seemed she wanted to meet with the man herself.

Tea had consisted of a lovely Earl Grey, cucumber sandwiches, scones still warm from the oven, and the judgemental gaze of Augusta Longbottom.

Small talk had been all the other three engaged in.

Now she and Lucius were sipping wine in his study, curled up on his small settee more comfortably than either would ever have thought possible given their respective backgrounds.

"I won't tell a soul, cross my heart and hope to die," she laughed.

One of Lucius' ridiculously perfect black brows rose. "Isn't that morbid. A muggle saying, I take it?"

"Yes. Though it additionally says, 'stick a needle in my eye.'"

"That is a hefty penalty indeed." Icy depths studied her, how her knees were folded and shifted onto the couch beside her, how the firelight wrote gilded highlights onto her skin and wove gold strands through her curls. She was more at ease here, sipping merlot as their arms brushed one another, than he had seen her perhaps ever. "Perhaps Severus could bolster his intimidating visage in your eyes?"

She rolled rich umber eyes. "What, by giving me detention?"

"In a manner of speaking." When Hermione just stared at him expectantly, he realized he would have to spell out his little whim to her. "Perhaps bend you over his desk and—"

Wine spurted from her lips, free hand hovering to gather what fell from her mouth. "You're barmy!"

He sighed his disappointment as he sat back. "Severus was similarly dismissive."

"You talked to him about— about—" she wiped her mouth and gestured vaguely.

"Fucking you? Beating you? Yes. It was more to tease him than anything, but the notion grew on me." He smiled at her blush. "You are both so uptight, especially around one another. He still sees you as a student to protect, and you're still acting like one. It's rather tiresome."

Her lips pursed throughout his explanation. "I am not a toy to lend out, Lucius."

The glint in his eye turned sly, the slant of his mouth arrogant and greedy. "Oh no, I would be present, participating even."

"That's—" she stuttered again. "That is absolutely— Why ever would you want to do such a thing?"

"Because it's fun." He leaned into her, plucking the nearly empty wine glass from her fingers, whispering against her lips. "The idea of you between myself and another man, of your helpless expressions as you're exposed to two different cruelties, is intoxicating. I can just imagine your pretty brown eyes gazing up at me as you suck my cock, tearful and drooling while each thrust of the man buried in your cunt drives you further against me."

Her wet lips parted, pupils shadowing her irises until they were wide ink drops. "Well," she breathed, "that's not… that is to say…" Hermione struggled past the current of sudden excitement to recall her protests. "But Professor Snape?"

"Believe it or not, Severus is quite good at what he does when he is in the mood to play." Lucius thumbed her plump bottom lip. "If you are so against it, I would never force the issue." He paused, then gave a half shrug. "I could try to find someone else who might appreciate you, but I am not in a position to socialize much, nor to call on those who might have once answered. Oh well." He sighed again, fingers trailing toward her nape to tangle in her curls. "I will just have to find other new ways to devour you."

"Am I a meal now?"

His fingers tightened enough to tug all the way to her navel. "A delicious one. Shall I eat you up now?" When she did not answer, he pulled harder. "That requires an answer, Hermione."

"Yes, please."

"Is that how good girls ask to be used?" He tutted.

"Please, sir." The words were a soft hush between their mouths.

Hunger prowled behind his cool expression and he wrapped a hand around her wrist, tugging her to stand between his sprawling legs. "There are so many things I would like to do to you, little girl. Perhaps I should string you up in my dungeons and indulge all those filthy thoughts I had when you last hung there." He tucked one of her curls behind her hair, finger trailing down the sensitive skin to tickle to her collarbone like the sweetest droplet. "You nearly drove me mad, all those helpless sounds you made while I allowed myself only the barest cruelty."

Her cheeks flooded and her own eyes darted askew. "It was humiliating."

"It was meant to be," he murmured against her throat. "I was ashamed of how I want to sink into you, taste you, so I transferred that shame to you, and you bore it so gracefully it leached into my seediest dreams. Since the moment I saw you down there I have been afflicted with you. Not even Dolohov's little display was so insidious, though you were such a perfect slut then."

He had pinched her chin to force her gaze back to his own, a pool of ink lined by the barest sliver of silver. She shuddered, emotions fluttering through her like pages tumbling in the wind; she had entranced him, hanging helpless in his dungeons?

He must have read the question across her face. "You truly do not realize the power you have. Oh, Hermione. You are quick, even in your most vulnerable moments; you picked up upon the game I played and learned the rules so that I was charmed. Had you done more, played to your advantage…" Lucius' tongue darted out to wet his lips. "I may have given you whatever you wanted and more."

"But you were so cruel!" she protested.

He nodded. "Yet the next time I came, I planned to bring a warm broth to nourish you, despite orders to keep you as you were and provide only water."

"I did not feel powerful. Not then and not with him."

"Let us replay that scene and see how you can play now that you know the game." He soothed her with large, warm hands against her back. "If you will allow it."

Hermione's brows pinched together as she tread the aisles of her memories to touch upon that event. When she did not recoil, she nodded. "Alright."

Lucius' grin was a banner across his lips, bright and razor-sharp.