Love Thy Enemy

CHAPTER 20: Two Steps Forward….





Lucius Malfoy should come with a warning label. Hermione laughed at the thought of Lucius in a white tee shirt with the words WARNING: Sexually Irresistible in bright red letters across his chest. She was beginning to think she was depraved. Perhaps there was actually a name for someone who became aroused by incessant arguing.





She had not planned on having sex with Lucius again, it just sort of happened. She certainly had not been prepared to do it in his office under his desk. One thing was certain though; they were going to have to be careful before she ended up pregnant. As much as she wanted to be a mother, she wasn’t sure if she could have a child with a man she did not love.





Hermione was standing in the mammoth closet off of their bedroom, dressed in a one piece, black undergarment that the dressmaker had called a Merry Widow. It seemed comical to her that half of the closet was filled with Lucius’s clothing and shoes, the majority of which were black. The only color to be found was in his waistcoats, shirts and ties. Her own half of the closet was no where near as crowded, though it did now contain more clothing than she had ever owned in her entire life.





Her clothing was decidedly more colorful, every shade chosen specifically to compliment her natural coloring. She had discovered the major drawback to an expansive wardrobe, deciding which one of the beautiful garments she wanted to wear. She had no idea where they were going. She hadn’t seen him since their little tryst that morning. Just after lunch however, a large bouquet of rare lilies were delivered with a little note telling her to be ready at seven.





“Hermione, I have reservations….” Lucius stopped in the doorway of the closet and stared in stunned silence at his wife dressed only in a one piece bit of satin and lace and black silk stockings. “…that I am happy to cancel.” He said, his eyes darkening and his lips quirking in that sly smile she was becoming rather fond of.





“You really need to stop sneaking up on me.” She chastised only half heartedly. She should have been embarrassed, but it seemed futile, after all, the man had now touched and tasted just about every inch of her. “I can’t decide what I want to wear there are too many choices here.”





Lucius stepped up behind her and put his hands on her waist as he looked over her wardrobe.



“You really didn’t buy all that much, Hermione.” He reached out for a simple black dress. It was sleeveless, with a deep v-neckline, wide shoulder straps, full skirted with a light petticoat and an emerald satin sash around the waist.





“Why do you know so much about women’s clothing?” She asked, looking at him speculatively over her shoulder.





“Not for any of the tawdry reasons I imagine are running through your mind.” He said. “And do not entertain the thought that I may like wearing them for one second either.” Lucius said with a meaningful stare. “I know what I like to see on a woman, what I think makes her look beautiful.” He handed her the dress and smiled. “Wear this tonight, I will be right back.” With a loud pop he was gone.





Hermione shook her head and stepped into the gown, thankful that the zipper was on the side and she would not require assistance. She had just risen from the floor after finding her shoes when Lucius reappeared and startled her.





“Damn it, Lucius! I’m going to make you start wearing a bell.” She snapped, stepping into a pair of black leather pointy toed heels.





“Here, I brought something for you.” He said, holding out a black lacquer box with a sliver clasp and the Malfoy crest engraved into the lid.





“What is it?” She asked curiously, flipping open the catch and lifting the lid. Inside on a pillow of silver satin lay a teardrop shaped emerald pendant on a silver chain with matching emerald drop earrings. “They are beautiful.”





“They were my mother’s.” Lucius sat the case on her lingerie chest and took out the pendant.





“Are you sure you want me to wear these?” His family had despised muggleborns for generations and Hermione doubted that his ancestors would be thrilled with her wearing any of the ancestral jewels.





“My mother was not what you might think.” He said. Hermione lifted her hair and listened intently as he clasped the necklace around her throat, stroking the soft skin briefly. “She was a pureblood, naturally, and contracted from birth to marry my father.” He handed her the drop earrings and watched her put them into her ears. “She was very soft. Everything about her, the way she moved, the way she looked, even her voice. She read a lot, like you, only for her it was poetry, not reference books.”





“What happened to her?” She asked, reaching up onto a shelf for a small satin handbag.





“She developed a lung ailment, and just never got well. She passed when I was sixteen.” He had changed his button down shirt from Egyptian cotton to one of fine silk and traded his casual, black waistcoat for one of emerald green close in color to the sash on her dress. His evening robes were black, as usual. She was flattered that he changed so that they had coordinating colors.





“I’m sorry. She sounds like a lovely woman.” Hermione said, watching him change his shoes. He looked back over his shoulder and smiled.





“She was, she would have liked you I think.” He said. “Of course, my father would have despised you.” Lucius said.





“I’ve read about your father.” Hermione did not elaborate further, deciding to show him the respect of not criticizing one of the biggest bigots in wizarding history since he was being so pleasant and open.





“He was not a nice man.” Lucius shook his head sadly. He had always intended to be a better man than old Abraxas, a better father. Instead he ended up being worse in every way. “Shall we go to dinner?” He asked, obviously anxious to get off the subject of his father and his own failings.









They apparated to the High Wizard’s District, a high end village where the wealthy worked and played. Hermione enjoyed the cool breeze of an early spring evening as they walked along the smooth stone walks lined with gas lamps just starting to flicker to life. The rain had stopped and the air smelled cleaner somehow because of it.



She was aware of the many spectators watching she and Lucius walk down the street. Her hand rested on his forearm as she walked beside him. She was thinking that it actually felt kind of nice to be walking beside such a handsome, commanding wizard, even if he was a bit of an ass.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked, looking at her askance.





“Nothing bad, you would know if I were having bad thoughts.” She laughed.





“Then tell me what has you smiling.” He stopped in front of a large, glass fronted Italian restaurant, the hostess already waiting to open the door for them.





“I was just thinking that it has been a rather nice day.” She said. Lucius wasn’t sure he believed that she was telling him all there was to know, but he figured it didn’t matter, as long as she was happy.



‘Whoa! Since when did he care about anyone’s happiness other than his own?’ Lucius was frowning as the flirty little hostess led them to his requested table in the solarium. He had called the owner just after she had left his office that morning and requested a private dinner for the two of them. There was no way they would have closed off their most popular dining feature had been anyone else, but everyone in the magical world knew that Lucius Malfoy had his finger in just about everyone’s pot and it was not a good idea to make an enemy of him.





“Here you are Mr. Malfoy, Madam Malfoy, please enjoy your dinner.” The little hostess said, practically salivating as she ogled Hermione’s husband. Why did it bother her so much?



Hermione saw Lucius smile at the flirtatious little trollop and before the girl could close the doors Hermione was pulled across the room and attached to Lucius’s front.





“Care to tell me what you are thinking now?” Lucius asked. There was a veritable tempest brewing in those amber eyes.





“That little twit was flirting with you.” She said, glaring at the heavy wooden doors that were isolating them from other diners.





“Are you jealous?” He asked, intrigued that he may be able to evoke such possessiveness in her.





“No, I’m not jealous. I just think it was rude.” She pouted. She absolutely would not admit to any emotion so strong in regards to her husband. It was difficult enough to admit her desire for him; she was not prepared to examine anything further at this point.





“Why is it that you are angry with me because of that flirtatious child? You had to have had some negative thought about me to trigger the spell.” He said, fingering the frog closure of her cape.





“For one, she’s not a child, she’s probably my age or older.” Hermione said.





“Thank you for reminding me that I am married to a woman young enough to be my child.” He replied acerbically.





“Oh hush, I saw you smiling back at her.”





“That sounds a lot like jealousy.” He smiled, and it annoyed her. “I promise you, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. It’s set in the terms of the marriage that I am yours alone.”





“It’s not as though I asked for you.” She snapped, refusing to meet his gaze. She was being irrational and she knew that, she just couldn’t help it.





“Nor I you, but alas, we have been gifted to each other, or cursed on each other, sometimes I wonder.” He said. “Jealousy alone would not trigger the rings, so tell me what brings you into my arms? I’ve never been one for public escapades, but if you have a yearning for a repeat of this morning…”





“I was thinking that if you smiled at her like that one more time that I would happily emasculate you.” She said with a smile that told him she might actually do it.





“But then how would I make you scream so prettily in the future?” He lowered his voice to that deep, purring tone that kicked the butterflies in her stomach into action.





“I don’t scream.” Her words were breathy, almost a whisper and her cheeks flushed. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her tight into his hips.





“Yes you do, my ears were ringing for an hour after you left. It’s a good thing my house is isolated else the authorities would be knocking at our door.” He bit her impudent little chin lightly, laughing softly when she shuddered in his arms. She was so responsive to his nibbling.





“It seems impolite to bring that to my attention, you’re making me self conscious.”







“Oh I’m not complaining. I find your song delightful, my little siren.” He chuckled. “You know, since you’re so close, why don’t you reach into my pocket, I have a gift for you.”





“I think George Weasley tried that one on me sixth year…..there was no pocket.” She said, eyeing him suspiciously.





“If I wanted you to cop a feel I would tell you flat out.” He laughed. “It’s in my left trouser pocket.”





Hermione reached into his pocket and withdrew the little burgundy box. She opened the lid and gasped. It was her house ring.



“How did you know?” She asked softly.





“I went to see Harry this afternoon.” He wiped away a tear that rolled from the corner of her eye.





“I couldn’t afford one when I left school, and my parents were already….” She trailed off looking down at the gold ring with the red stone and the house crest. “Thank you.” She looked up at him and smiled through teary eyes. “You really are sweet sometimes.”





“I’ll have to work on that, I wouldn’t want to make a habit of it. It almost made me physically ill to purchase something with Gryffindor on it; I have never been so embarrassed! I should have worn a disguise.” He cupped the sides of her face and stared down at her as he smiled, he had been teasing her. “I am starving; can we please sit down for dinner now?” Hermione lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his, kissing him lightly with real affection. The fact that he went to Harry to find out what she might want meant a lot to her.





“Okay, let’s have dinner.” She smiled, slipping the rather gaudy school ring onto her finger as though he had given her the hope diamond. He flinched a little when they parted. When she smiled like that, it made his chest hurt. He really needed to go see the healer.









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LABIB - I’ve been to California twice, LA both times and never noticed that there weren’t any brick homes LOL….course I did all the touristy things and spent my down time in my comfy bed at the Westin LOL Yes, it’s the first time he called her love, and I never thought about the masculine and feminine versions of blond (e) LOL learn something new every day!





JEN – I am happy to entertain : ) I hope you continue to enjoy it. I have a thing for older men…..so Jason Isaacs is about 15 years older than me….Alan Rickman is exactly twice my age……David Thewlis is 13 years older….matters little to me LOL….now my fascination with Draco(or Tom Felton) baffles me, since he is in fact 12 years younger……makes him a little harder for me to write, even though he is Hermione’s age. I never could stand guys my own age, always liked them older. Maybe its that whole “girls mature faster than boys” thing.





AngelBaby – I want a Slytherin Sweat suit LOL. Sorry, with my dirty mind and roguish tendencies, there is no way that hat would have sorted me anywhere else.