I did not mean it to be like this. Well, not when I took that vow to remain faithful to my husband. I never meant to drag the sanctity of marriage through the mud and make a mockery of it. It was never premeditated or carefully planned. Hell, I couldn't even tolerate the man until recently, and now here I was, hands shaking violently as the realisation of what I had done weighed heavily upon me. There was no coming back from this, not now, not ever.

How did you break it to a married man that he was going to be the father of a child he never wanted? In which way did you tell him that this potentially had the capability of destroying both of their lives and their marriages simultaneously? He a Malfoy, me a Weasley, married to one of the highest profiled Quidditch players in the world. None of this would come out quietly, and the ridicule we would face would be abhorrent. He had the potential to lose most of the Malfoy fortune and me, well, I'd lose the man I vowed to love to my dying day, both of equal value in my eyes.

Some would claim if I loved him so much, I wouldn't have slept with Lucius, and that is a valid argument. A logical argument. But an argument I wasn't ready to broach right now.

It started innocently enough. A brush of wayward fingertips featherlight against the small of my back as he tried to slink past. A man I'd hated, a man I'd loathed beyond measure, a man I couldn't stand to be near now invoked such exhilaration within me and I was hooked.

I never believed in love at first sight, that was for fairy tales and Hollywood movies, but after that, I believed in desire at first touch. The way his fingers halted on the bare skin of my back felt as if tiny electric shocks were penetrating my skin and awakening a part of me that had been lying dormant. I am sure he felt it too, the way his fingers twitched against my skin and how he inhaled a sharp breath.

It was at that moment we both felt the pull toward one another. Obviously, we never acted upon it, not that night anyway. Consumed by desire, he weighed heavily upon my thoughts for days after that encounter.

Narcissa had just purchased the club Ron and Harry played for under the guise of boosting the Malfoy image. She would often have team and family building days, or after parties when a match was won, so it was usual for Lucius and me to be around each other often. It wasn't until around the third encounter that the lust I felt for the man had the foundations laid. He was giving me something that Ron wasn't and that was excitement in my life. That feeling of butterflies in your stomach as it back flipped with desire every time he touched me.

It was innocent at first, a playful touch of the arm grazing against me as he walked past, which eventually gave way to resting his hand on my knee under the table and slowly tracing light circles on my upper thigh. He knew how to play the game and play it he did well.

It was titillating, the feeling of being wanted by another man. To be lusted over and to have attention paid to you. The excitement felt as he touched me so brazenly in the open where anyone could have caught him in the act stoked the fire of want even more.

I was stupid. If I'd stopped before I let it get any further than that, if I'd just walked away the first time he kissed me, I wouldn't be in this situation. We wouldn't be in this situation. But in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that easy. The allure of being wanted by this man that wasn't my husband gave me life. It awakened my soul and for the first time and in a long time I felt alive.

I am sure he felt more alive than ever as well. When he looked at me, when our eyes locked, it was as if no one else were around and it was just us. I know how cliché that sounds, just like in the movies, but for once in my life, I found it to be true.

At first, it was purely sexual and then, as always, my heart ran away, leaving my brain behind and it turned into something more, something of substance. Was it almost love? Yes, I think it was; I think it is, but once my head fell back into the equation, I knew deep down neither of us could act upon these feelings for fear of the retribution to follow.

Did Lucius love me? I think so. He'd never admit it, of course. Why would he? I was Hermione, a lowly Muggle born, barely worthy of him giving me the time of day and yet something that fateful night when he touched my bare back drew us together in such a way it hoodwinked even us.

We could both pinpoint the exact moment it went from sexual desire to love. No longer was it just a release. No, it was more. I truly felt what it was like to make love and not just have sex, and it was something so beautiful to truly feel that connection with another human being. It was at that moment I realised Ron wasn't the man for me and it ate at my psyche that I was leading him on, knowing I wasn't in love with him anymore.

And now here I stand, looking at myself through tears of regret, sadness and guilt into the bathroom mirror, hands grasping the cold stark white porcelain sink so hard my knuckles almost match that same shade as the bile rises in my throat.

And I stand here wondering, would death be an easier way out? Would it be kinder to everyone involved if I just silently slipped away right here in this bathroom? It would bring no shame to either of us and our families, and my dirty little secret would go to the grave with me.

No. I could never do that. Not to you, tiny one. You never asked for this.

I press a hand to my stomach. The hopelessness eats at me and I do not know what to do.

I'm Hermione Granger, and this is the story of my fall from grace.

A/N: I know. Another new story and I haven't updated others in forever… I will get to them, I promise! I hope you enjoy this; it's been floating around in my head for months and I finally had enough and had to get it out.

-Aliasmel1