Chapter 15: Falling Falling Falling

Hermione finished writing her letter to Maggie, letting her know that she wouldn't be home tonight but would explain everything in the morning. Lucius gracefully waved his wand over the envelope as the folds of the letter became wings that started to flap. It then carried the letter out of a small window and into the night.

Lucius held Hermione's arm as he led her back to the couch. "Are you hungry?"

Suddenly, her stomach growled loud enough to startle the both of them. "I guess I haven't eaten since I left for the Witching Hour." She wrapped her arms around her belly and blushed. But Lucius was already off and away in the kitchen. Hermione heard the clanging and crashing of dishes and then a loud sizzle with an aroma that made her mouth water. While Lucius was away, she admired the painting of his mother again. Her porcelain complexion looked like it was dusted with gold specs on her cheeks. She held a stunning bouquet of white roses, something Hermione had never noticed until now.

'White roses,' she thought. 'They must have belonged to his mother.'

Lucius walked back down the small flight of stairs and stood over Hermione. The way she looked up and into his eyes made her feel small. He held out his forearm.

"Let me escort you to the dining room?" He lightly bowed to her, and she giggled as she wrapped her hands around his forearm, pulling herself up from the couch. He led her up the small flight of stairs and walked through the kitchen. Like the rest of Lucius' home, the kitchen made Hermione gaze in astonishment. The kitchen had to be bigger than Maggie's Tailoring, filled with stainless steel appliances against gorgeous white countertops that looked to be made entirely out of pure white glass. The cabinets were a deep forest green with golden hardware, and over a large island was a crystal chandelier with two snaked bodies weaving through the design and intertwining towards the ceiling.

Passed the kitchen was a dining room fit for a king. The dining table looked comparable to the tables in the great hall, and above them were two more crystal chandeliers, this time with a snake eating its tail as the rings that held the droplets of diamond-shaped crystals. At the very front of the table were two plates topped with the most delectable-looking chicken parmesan Hermione had ever seen and two short glasses of what looked like champagne. Lucius pulled out her chair and allowed her to lean on him as she lowered herself into the seat. He took the chair diagonal from her.

"This looks and smells amazing." She snickered. She unfurled an array of silverware from a lush green satin cloth, placing it delicately in her lap. Lucius did the same.

"What? You didn't think I would be a good cook?" He cut a small piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth.

She shook her head and began cutting the chicken breast. "If I'm honest, I didn't think you even knew how to cook. I figured you always had servants do that for you."

Lucius took a sip of his drink, his eyes observing Hermione with a confused expression across his face. Hermione caught him in his stare and immediately felt embarrassed.

'Where are my manners?!' She panicked inside her brain.

She started waving her hands apart. "No, please forgive me. I do apologize. I shouldn't assume those things." She pointed to the glass of the bubbling golden liquid.

"It's cider, I promise." He chewed and wiped the cloth over his perfect pink lips. Hermione forced her eyes back down to her plate. "Also," he continued. "No need to be sorry. I'm not oblivious to the image I portray to others, and I did have help for a long time. However, It was my mother who taught me how to cook."

Hermione took a sip from the glass, happy it was indeed apple cider. "Is she the one who planted those rose bushes outside?" Hermione couldn't believe how comfortable she felt asking Lucius these questions, and she yearned to know more about him.

He nodded. "Yes, and when she died, I placed a spell on the roses so that they would always glow. She loved it when I did that for the bouquets she would bring home." Hermione pictured a younger Lucius waving his wand over his mother's flowers only to see her smile. The image melted her heart. A symphony of silverware meeting glass plates clicked and clanged throughout the room as they finished their meals.

"That was the best chicken parmesan I've ever had." She dabbed the corners of her mouth with the satin cloth and smiled. "Thank you." But Lucius' face looked like his mind was off in space somewhere.

'Great,' she thought. 'I must have tainted the evening with thoughts of his poor dead mother.'

She glanced around the room and waited for Lucius to snap into reality. His light-hearted expression had changed back to troubled and tinged with anger. Suddenly, he picked up the satin cloth and wiped the tips of his fingers, his stare moving over the dining table and into Hermione's eyes.

"If you don't mind me asking, what made you want to go to the Witching Hour by yourself?"

Hermione was caught off guard. She didn't think Lucius would even care to know something like that. She did a half-shrug as she sipped the cider. "Maggie was out on a date for the night. I didn't want to be home alone all night." She paused to see Lucius' stunning grey eyes locked onto her as he listened. "At first, I planned to stay home, but then I found this dress in my dresser and thought I'd put it to use."

Lucius had no shame in glancing under the table, his eyes tracing up her body and looking over the dress. Hermione's veins jolted with electricity at the feeling of his eyes scanning over her body. She chuckled as she said, "Probably should have just stayed inside, right?"

Lucius' piercing stare held her in place. She felt her cheeks turn red as a wave of self-consciousness fell over her.

"I can't stand the thought of you suffering, Hermione." He finally said. Their gazes met as he spoke gently. "I wish you had called on me. None of this would have happened. I can't live with the fact that you went through agony to protect me. I should have been there." The way he spoke sounded like there was no other way to describe what happened.

Hermione pinched and rubbed the corner of the satin fabric between her fingers beneath the table as she narrowed her gaze. She considered his words, imagining her night beginning and ending with Lucius. She imagined the two of them having drinks and him guiding her in a marvelous dance, with her following him like a shadow. She'd give anything to replace the memory of Ron with Lucius. Hermione put her palms on the table and pushed herself up and away from her chair.

Lucius immediately shot up and took hold of her arm. "Hermione, what are you doing?" His eyes looked down at her bandaged knees, his face filled with worry.

She loved the feeling of his hand helping her keep her balance, but she did not lean on him this time. She waited until his eyes traveled back up from her knees, desperate to explore more of his misty-colored irises. Once she held them with hers, she spoke softly.

"Will you dance with me?"

Confused, Lucius conveyed a sense of unease as he searched Hermione's face. "What about your knees?" He asked her. She was shocked that his answer wasn't an instant 'no' and surprised he was even considering it.

"I promise I'm ok." She told him.

Lucius pressed his lips together and lowered his gaze as he looped her arm through his and rested her grip over the top of his forearm so she could lean on him. He led her back down the small staircase and into the large living room. He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, the room filled with an exquisite symphonic melody. He gently brought her hand to his and squeezed her palm. She let her fingers drape over his grip as his other hand spread across the small of her back. Hermione's stomach did summersaults as Lucius pulled her closer to him until their bodies met.

Now, there was only a tiny space between their noses as Lucius guided her in a slow dance in front of the black marble fireplace. A hesitant smile played across her lips as she breathed in his natural scent. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered faster with every step, causing her to become aware of the closeness between them. She rested her head against his chest as their bodies became enveloped in the radiant heat from the flames.

"I didn't call on you tonight because, after our walk, you didn't come to see me. You stopped manifesting roses for me." Her eyes followed their shadows on the wall as they swayed from right to left. "I thought you didn't want to see me."

Lucius' hand seemed to press more firmly into her lower back as his hand continued to guide her. "I'm sorry," he said. He rested his chin on her head. "I feel this overwhelming need to protect you, even from myself."

Confused, her brows furrowed and her eyes darted around the room. Then she remembered their moment under the street lamp and the words Lucius had told her right before she kissed him.

"Is that why you told me you wanted me to hate you that night?" She asked as Lucius continued to guide their feet slowly back and forth. "Did you mean that?" She lifted her head and looked deeply into his eyes, begging them to look into hers, yearning to get lost in them.

Lucius looked down at Hermione as their dance slowed in front of the fireplace. "I regretted it the moment I said it." He whispered. "I'm…afraid." His eyes moved to the dancing flames.

Hermione leaned away and studied his expression. Goosebumps dotted across her skin at the thought of a man like Lucius Malfoy feeling afraid of anything. She wished she could climb inside his brain for an answer that made more sense. She studied all the features of his face: his chiseled jawline, his high cheekbones, the natural arch to his eyebrows, and then proceeded to get lost inside his eyes filled with grey oceans.

"What are you afraid of?" She asked.

Lucius looked above her and across the room as he thought of an answer. When his eyes found hers again, he said, "I'm afraid of how you captivate my mind. Not even Narcissa had such an effect on me." He leaned closer, causing the blood in her veins to freeze as he whispered into her ear: "I'm terrified of the extent I'd be willing to go just to catch a glimpse of you."

Time seemed to stand still as Lucius' words swirled over her head and down her spine like a cold finger had been dragged down her back. She slowly moved her hands down to his biceps when Lucius pulled his face away from the nape of her neck. Her lips parted as his hand left her back and tilted her chin up with his knuckle, enough to where their eyes were the only thing the other could see. As her eyelids fluttered closed, Lucius pulled her closer as he softly pressed his lips to hers.

Her hands slid up his shoulders and clasped behind his neck as their lips continued their dance in a breathtaking rhythm. His hand reached lower until her hip was now in his grasp, while the other cradled her cheek. Their lips parted at the same time, both of them searching for more, eager to discover the other first. Her fingers held tightly onto the back of his collar as she pulled herself up onto the tips of her toes to deepen the kiss.

Every kiss they've shared felt more and more like euphoria for Hermione. The way his hands caressed her skin left her desperate to feel more of him. The feeling of his warm palm against her cheek drenched her body with a desire to be explored further. As their kiss ended, Lucius lowered both of his hands down to her lower back and the two of them continued their dance.

Hermione wondered if he could feel the thundering of her heart inside her chest. Electrical currents traveled up and down every inch of her body as she quieted her breathing. She wondered if what Lucius said was true. Was he truly afraid of his feelings for her? Should she be afraid of her feelings for him?

'Wait,' she thought. 'What do I feel for Lucius?'

As Lucius continued to lead their bodies in a delicate slow sway in front of the fireplace, Hermione's head returned to his chest and contemplated it all. She never imagined feeling anything but disdain for Lucius, until that night outside the Witching Hour on her birthday. The way he protected her from the rain with a magical umbrella, the way her body lit up like the sun when he rested his hand on her shoulder, and the way he made her feel about her decision to leave school, all left her confused.

The day she delivered tailoring services to him, completely unaware that the day would end with her wrist in his grasp and the two of them sharing a kiss. Then the night he came to apologize for everything, all of these memories led her to the conclusion that she didn't regret going out tonight. If anything the events created her pathway here to Lucius, and now the two of them were in each other's arms, their steps in a synchronized rhythm to a melodic tune. This was the dream she imagined when she was alone in her room with the dress clutched to her chest.

She was falling in love with Lucius Malfoy, a man who was once the enemy of her and her friends. One of the most prestigious wizards in all of the magical world held tightly onto her heart and engulfed her mind with his presence. She adored the way his eyes made her head swim in dark stormy clouds, the way his hands made her body feel like ice but caused her insides to melt, and how his words danced around in her mind as he confided in her about his fears. She loved all of it and wanted more.

"Hermione," his voice caused her mind to jump back into reality. "Promise me, if you're ever out alone again, please be more careful."

She raised her head and their gazes met. "Could you come with me next time?" She asked. The muscles in his back seemed to twitch and squirm beneath her hands. He looked down to the floor between them.

"If there is ever a time that I cannot be there, will you promise me?" He rested his forehead against hers causing her to get lost in the feeling of their bodies together.

"I promise." She told him.

'A time he won't be there?' She thought. 'What does he mean?'

Her knee buckled unexpectedly causing her to stumble forward, gripping Lucius' back.

"Hey, are you okay?" He grabbed her shoulders and helped her stand. "What's wrong? Is it your knees?" His eyes frantically moved around her body then back up to her face to see a playful smile draped across her lips as she started to giggle.

She shook her head. "Yes, I'm okay. It's not my knees, I think I'm just exhausted." She told him. Lucius snapped his fingers and the music cut out from the room and suddenly all she could hear was the crackling of the fire still in the fireplace. Then Lucius held his palm out in front of the flames and they slowly shrunk to the sizes of candles.

Without saying another word, Lucius swept Hermione off her feet and into his arms. He carried her back towards the front of the house and up the large grand staircase on the left side of the room.

"I don't want you to have to walk with your knees still bandaged up. Here." He said, as they reached the long hallway and he brought her to the first door on the left. He slowly lowered her down to her feet and opened the door. Her body tingled with excitement as he took hold of her hand and led her into the room. As she stepped through the doorway her eyes grew wide. The room was more than Hermione had imagined any bedroom of Lucius' home to look like.

Gorgeous redwood floors stretched from one side of the room to the other, except for a large furry black carpet similar to the one downstairs with a king king-sized canopy bed in the center of it. Draped over the posts was a creamy-colored piece of sheer fabric that enclosed the entire bed. On either side were two end tables and across from the bed was a matching dresser big enough to fit both Maggie's and Hermione's clothes combined. On the other side of the room was a sitting space with two couches similar to the size of the couch downstairs. They were both made from deep brown leather and in between the two of them was a long rectangular coffee table that would be considered a short dining room table in a standard home.

As Hermione gazed all around the room made for royalty, she couldn't help but blush at the sight of the bed. Her mind flooded with the realization that she was in Lucius' house, falling fast for a man whom she used to feel nothing but hatred, and with whom she was suddenly about to share a bed with.

"This is your room." He said.

'Oh.' She thought, slightly disappointed but more embarrassed at the idea that she assumed they'd be sharing a bed for their first night together.

"There's a bathroom just across the hall with a closet. You'll find robes and pajama sets there whenever you're ready." He told her. He spun on his feet and headed for the door until Hermione reached for his arm.

"Wait!" She pleaded as she gripped his sleeve. She hated the idea of being away from him, even though she knew it was more practical to sleep separately, and yet she wondered if he could stay a little longer. In swift movements he faced her, their chests almost touching as his hands gently gripped her shoulders.

"Trust me," he started. "The thought of leaving you is eating me alive, but I'm a gentleman. I refuse to put you in any position where you'd have to make an uncomfortable choice." He softly pressed his lips to her forehead. "And your body needs rest from that potion and your fall."

She nodded as he ran his fingers through small strands of her hair, sending shivers down the base of her neck. He reached for her hand and brought the top of it to his lips, giving her skin a soft kiss before turning and leaving the room.

She walked quietly around the room and observed all of its stunning features. To the left of the bed was a window that looked out onto the cul-de-sac and reminded her of the window in her bedroom back in Hogsmeade. She put her palm against the glass and let the chills travel from her chest down to the souls of her feet. She wondered if Maggie had come home to find the letter, and wondered if she'd be angry or worried that Hermione wouldn't be back till morning.

Hermione would keep her promise to Maggie; she'd tell her everything once she saw her the next morning. For now, she needed to rest. Her night with Ron and enduring the horrible effects of the potion made her bones ready to drop. She slowly opened her bedroom door and tiptoed across the hall into the bathroom. The air caught in her chest as she gasped at the size of the bathroom. It had to be the same size as her room back at Maggie's Tailoring. There was a huge walk-in shower on one side of the bathroom and a jetted tub on the other; both were gold in color with lines of black that framed the edges.

She stepped through a second door into a large walk-in closet she could practically do cartwheels in. Hanging from a rod were different colors of robes, all different in size, fabric, and style. Next to them was a shelf filled with different colored pajama sets. She thought for a moment and decided on a royal blue satin robe. She tiptoed back to her room and undressed. As she pulled the robe over her body and tied the band around her waist, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

She approached the side of the bed and smiled and she noticed a glowing white rose on the nightstand.