Choices

Chapter 12: Detention



After a hastily eaten meal in the Heads’ Common Room, Hermione rushed to her detention with Professor Malfoy. She didn’t want to be late and have him angry with her again. As she was near-running down the hall she noticed a rather tall someone in front of her and she was moving too quickly to stop in time. She collided with the person and almost fell down. She caught herself in time and looked up to see Hagrid smiling down at her.



“All right, Hermione?” He asked her kindly.



“Yes, Hagrid. I’m on my way to detention right now, though,” she answered.



He frowned slightly at that and asked, “Detention? What have ya got detention for?”



Hermione blushed, saying, “I yelled at Professor Malfoy today, so he gave me detention for the next two weeks.”



“It’s going to be three if you don’t hurry up,” came the silky smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy, who was walking up the hall.



Hagrid leant over so he was face to face with Hermione and quietly said, “If he gives you any unnecessary trouble you come straight to me.”



Hermione smiled slightly, answering, “I will, Hagrid. Thank you. I have to go now.”



With a slight wave at Hagrid, Hermione continued down the hall in the wake of her professor, who not stopped to make sure she was following him.



When she reached Professor Malfoy’s office she noticed that the door was open. She peeked in and saw Lucius sitting at his desk.



“Well, come in,” he said, sounding a bit impatient. Then he added, “And close the door behind you.”



She did as she was told, making sure not to slam the door. She walked up to stand in front of his desk, waiting for him to tell her what she would be doing for her detention. She shifted from foot to foot, waiting for him to say something. She glanced at the clock on his desk and noticed that she’d been standing waiting for him to say something to her nearly five minutes, during which time he’d been sitting there grading papers. She wasn’t sure exactly what he was up to, but she was determined to wait patiently until he decided to let her in on it. It was another ten minutes before he set down his quill and looked up at her.



“Well, Miss Granger, it seems you do possess some amount of patience,” he drawled with a slight smirk.



“Of course I do. One cannot be friends with Harry and Ron and not learn patience,” she answered with a smirk of her own.



She nearly fell over when he outright laughed at the statement and told her that she made a good point. His laughter had a strange effect on her. It made her stomach feel a bit fluttery.



“Miss Granger, tonight you will be learning the curse that I threw at you and Miss Abbott in class today. I, of course, expect you to use the knowledge as you see fit,” he told her, standing and walking around the desk to stand in front of her.



He didn’t say the words, but she knew he meant that he expected her to teach her friends. She also had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to be teaching her other things that wouldn’t be taught in class, things he’d learned as a Death Eater.



“Yes, sir,” she said, always ready to learn something new.



“Follow me, then.”



She followed him to the opposite side of his office, where he opened a door that led to a practice room that looked similar to the one she and her friends had used for the DA in fifth year.



Professor Malfoy had her stand against the wall and raise a shield to protect herself in case the curse bounced off the wall rather than taking a chunk out of it as it was supposed to. He raised his wand and slowly showed her the wand movement. He then repeated the incantation twice before casting the curse at the wall. Hermione’s eyes grew wide as she saw the size of the chunk the curse had taken out of the wall.



“Are you ready to try, Miss Granger?” the blond man asked as he motioned her to lower her shield.



Hermione, slightly unsure, said, “I think so, sir.”



Lucius stood behind her and helped her position herself in a fighter’s stance. Needless to say, Hermione was very aware of his presence. She raised her wand and he reached around her to bring her wand up higher. Hermione said the incantation as she waved her wand in the proper movement. She was disappointed when nothing happened. Lucius, however, was not surprised. The curse he was teaching her was a violent one that had to be meant by the caster. In a sudden stroke of brilliance, he knew how to get her to cast it perfectly. He had to make her angry to the point she forgot he was teacher. Stepping away from her, he raised a shield to protect himself and began taunting her.



“What’s the matter, Granger? Have we finally found something that little miss know-it-all can’t do? I’m sure Severus will be delighted to hear it.” She still had her back to him, but he could see her shoulders tense as her anger rose. “Well, what can one expect from a Mudblood?”



That got her. She screamed, “Shut up!”



“Make me,” he answered, he knew it was an immature answer, but it worked.



She whirled around, casting the curse perfectly, and with such force that Lucius was thrown backward when it his shield. Hermione dropped her wand, horrified at what she had done. She ran to where he was lying on the floor and dropped to her knees by his side.



“Professor Malfoy, I’m so sorry,” she said softly, tears welling up in her eyes.



He groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the floor. He said, “There’s no need to be sorry, Miss Granger. You reacted exactly as I wanted you to, and you cast that curse perfectly. I apologize for calling a Mudblood, but it was the only to get you to cast that curse.”



“Draco’s called me that enough times that I should be used to it by now,” she answered, looking at her hands.



Lucius’ head snapped up to look at her. He nearly growled, “He hasn’t called you that recently, has he?”



Hermione shook her head, saying, “No. He hasn’t called me a Mudblood since we came back to school from the summer holiday.”



Lucius nodded his head, and Hermione couldn’t help but notice the way the light reflected off of his hair. She wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Unable to help herself, she stroked his hair, noting that it was indeed as soft as it looked. She thoroughly enjoyed how he closed his eyes and purred at her touch. She withdrew her hand and was immediately met with a pouty-faced Malfoy. Hermione nearly laughed at the pout, as she had been told several times by Draco that Malfoys don’t pout.



“Why?” he asked as his eyes met hers.



“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if it was as soft as it looked,” she stammered, blushing.



“No. I meant why did you stop?”



Hermione was at a loss. She had no idea why she’d stopped. She so settled for the ever-intelligent looking shoulder shrug. It was then that she noticed that his silver eyes had darkened to a stormy gray. Again unable to control herself, she leaned forward and captured his lips with her own. As he responded to the kiss, she reached her hands up and threaded them in his silky blond locks. The spark that had been developing in her belly burst into a flame as he moaned into her mouth. He pulled her against his chest and lay back down on the floor, pulling her on top of him. Hermione felt his tongue against her lips, requesting entrance. She opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to explore as he willed. She moaned as his tongue found a sensitive spot on her tongue. He brushed the spot again, loving the way she moaned, and that it was because of something he was doing. Hands firmly grasping her hips, he rolled them over so he was lying on top of her, nestled between her thighs. He finally had to draw back for air.



“Merlin, Hermione, the things you do to me,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.



“Ditto,” she whispered back, with a slight giggle.



Lucius lifted himself off of her and rose to his feet. He held out a hand to help her up. After she was on her feet Lucius made a show of attempting to straighten her blouse for her. In reality, the only thing he accomplished was fully pulling it of her skirt and unbuttoning a few buttons, exposing her tummy to him. He ran his fingers over the soft skin, making her gasp.



“Lucius,” she said, her voice trembling.



“Hermione?” he questioned.



“I think we need to stop now,” she told him in a voice laced with regret.



He nodded his head and helped her straighten her blouse for real this time. He didn’t like that she’d stopped him, but he was willing to do it to make her happy. He had a suspicion as to why she’d made the request.



“Are you a virgin, Hermione?” he asked softly.



“Yes, I am, and I really don’t want my first time to be on a floor in a practice room,” she answered with more confidence than she was feeling.



“And that is your right. Thank you for stopping me,” he said gently, tucking one of her curls behind her ear.



She smiled at him and said, “I stopped myself. If I hadn’t done it when I did, I don’t think I’d have been able to.”



“Right. I think that’s it for your detention tonight. Be back here tomorrow at the same time and we’ll continue where we left off.”



“More snogging?” she asked with a cheeky grin.



“More curses,” he answered. “But I wouldn’t object to some more snogging, if that’s what you want.”



She pulled herself up onto tiptoes and gave a soft kiss before leaving him with a softly whispered, “Good night, Lucius.



Once she was gone, he let himself into his private rooms. He poured himself a bit of scotch and sat down on the soft black suede sofa in front of the fireplace. He preferred suede over leather because he didn’t get stuck to suede in the off chance that he would actually sweat while sitting on a sofa. Unbidden thoughts came into his head of things he’d like to do to Hermione on the aforementioned sofa.



“What are you doing, Lucius?” he asked himself as he wondered what the hell had gotten into him.



“It would appear to me that you’re sitting on the sofa drinking a scotch,” the portrait over his fireplace told him.



Lucius looked up at the portrait; it was of a man that he didn’t recognize. Judging by the colors he wore, he had once been a Slytherin.



“Who asked you?” he asked. “And who are you?”



“Oh, I’m no one. Just a friendly ear, should you happen to need one,” the portrait answered.



“Do you have a name?” Lucius asked.



The man nodded, saying, “Yes.”



Lucius sighed, set his glass on the table, and asked, “What is your name?”



“Joseph. What is troubling you, Malfoy?” The portrait said kindly.

“Girl troubles, if you can believe it. I’ve done the unthinkable twice over. I’m falling for a Muggleborn Gryffindor,” he told the portrait.



“Shame, Professor Malfoy,” Joseph said sarcastically. “Let me guess, she’s also a student.”



Lucius looked up at the portrait and said, “Yes, she’s a seventh year, so she’s of age.”



“Don’t get defensive. Now, tell me, what is so wrong about your relationship with the girl.”



“For starters, she’s half my age. Then there’s the fact that I used to be a Death Eater, with her being who she is that wouldn’t go over well, especially if the press got hold of the information. Not to mention who her best friends are…” Lucius trailed off. The more he thought about a relationship with Hermione, the more it seemed like a bad idea.



Joseph looked thoughtful as he said, “So you’ve taken a shine to Hermione Granger, have you? Pray tell, why did you fall for her?”



“Because she’s beautiful, and kind, and smart, and brave. She’s entirely too good for me, yet she seems to like me anyway. This is too confusing. I’m a Malfoy, damn it. It shouldn’t be this hard. I should just be able to sweep her off her feet and to hell with what everyone else thinks,” Lucius ranted.



“So why don’t you?” Joseph asked.



“Because she’s Hermione fucking Granger! Gryffindor Princess, one third of the Golden Trio, and best friend to Harry fucking Potter!” Lucius shouted.



“So what? You obviously like the girl quite a bit. Has she shown any sign of returning your affections? If she has, then I think you’re safe in moving forward with a relationship.”



“You make my head hurt. I’m going to bed,” Lucius informed the portrait before stomping into his room and slamming the door.



He undressed and flopped down on the bed. He lay in bed for over an hour, thoughts of what to do about Hermione running through his head, before he fell into a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep.

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A/N: Go me! Two chapters up in one night. FYI Lucius’ nightmares are about what would happen to Hermione if Voldemort ever got news of their relationship.