Harvest Moon

Sorry this has taken so long to get posted. It's been a few very long, strange weeks for me.



***



Lucius smiled a little as Hermione kept pace at his side. With her head slightly down and that alluring pink tingeing her cheeks but still next to him. Who would have ever guessed that the wizarding worlds’ biggest muggleborn hater would be walking comfortably down Diagon Alley with the most famous muggleborn in the world. It was strange how much could change in just a few years, he mused.



He was riding a fantastic endorphin high. Not only brought on by the minor flogging but by the fact it had been administered, at least in part, by two women he genuinely cared about. He turned the thought over in his mind because it was odd for him to realize he cared for anyone aside from himself and his son. Yet the thought was there, reinforced by the knowledge it was the truth. He did care deeply for both women. Deep inside some part of him knew he would protect either of them with his life. Not that either of them would ask for him to. Probably wouldn’t appreciate it if he tried to wrap them up and keep them from harm all together. Regardless, he still cared for them and thus they were his. His to dote on, his to protect and keep safe. Whether they liked it or not.



Hermione, in the mean time, was still in a mild state of shock concerning her boldness. She had flogged Lucius Malfoy. Dear gods, how was she ever going to reconcile that in her own mind with the person she thought herself to be? She couldn’t deny it had felt wonderful to her. Each stroke across those wonderfully muscular shoulders and broad back, every sound of pleasure or pain brought from him, was alluring and made her want to go further. She had been pulled away from doing that only because Ara had stopped her. She should be ashamed, horribly embarrassed by the whole situation. She was a horrible person, she just knew it. She glanced up at Lucius’ profile next to her for the thousandth time in the last few minutes. He seemed none the worse for wear and was even smiling slightly to himself.



He glanced down at her and could almost see the wheels turning in her head. He sighed. “Mine, you aren’t horrid, evil, degenerate, perverted or anything else for enjoying flogging me,” Lucius said, reaching over and taking her hand. “You know as well as I do that taboos are only there to reinforce ignorance and fear. Though some things such as forcing someone against their will should be against every moral fiber of anyone’s being. Relations between consenting adults should not be looked upon badly. However, considering this was your first time as a Top, I can see where it would disturb you. What you did is really very mild and Ara was there to guide you on how to do it safely.”



“But it’s just so . . .”



“Enticing?” Lucius suggested. “What you’re experiencing is what every first time top goes through. You had the advantage of being eased into that situation somewhat, Mine. Most simply jump in with no instruction what so ever and often end up injuring their partner in ways they hadn’t intended. Very few take into account the psychological aspects of it all before charging into it.”



“I feel so . . . embarrassed because . . . I think of myself as an intellectual, not someone highly sexually charged.”



“What is the difficulty with being both? It’s a fact that intelligent women make better lovers.”



Hermione gave him an odd look through her lashes. “How do you figure that?”



“Again, it’s a fact. Intelligent women can read their partners verbally, physically and psychologically. They tend to be vastly creative and interested in trying new things. Haven’t you ever experimented with any of your partners?”



“I think that’s too personal a question!” Hermione squeaked.



“Translation: no.”



Hermione blinked as something wholly improbable registered in her mind. “You’re teasing me,” she accused.



One elegant eyebrow lifted and a smirk flitted across his lips for a moment. “Perhaps.”



***



Ara plastered herself against the tree as she felt the other person’s energy begin to move toward her. She smiled a little when she realized what she still held in her hands. The other person might have spells and a wand at their disposal but she’d bet on the fact they wouldn’t expect her to be armed. With a most unusual weapon at that.



Her fingers tightened on the makeshift defender as she heard a voice call from very close by.



“Do come out. I’ll make your death as painless as possible,” the one in Lucius’ Deatheater mask said, coming into view around the corner of the tree Ara was hiding behind.



She firmly grasped the cast iron skillet in both hands when the mask came into view and swung with all off her strength. There was a resounding clang of metal on metal and the underlying crunch of breaking bones. The Lucius imposter went flying backward several feet. The mask ripped away, leaving the face of the perpetrator exposed. As suspected all along, it was Lucius’ face. The wand had gone flying and she hurried to retrieve it, taking care to avoid going anywhere near the person sprawled out on the ground.



She grabbed up the wand and made her way to a path she’d seen off to her left. She hurried along it and hoped it led to a road. She sighed in relief as a lonely stretch or pavement came into view. She twirled the wand and hoped she could get it to work properly. She held it aloft, focused and said, “Lumos!” Nothing happened. She sighed heavily, glancing over her shoulder and around just in case the false Lucius had come to. She probably should have checked to see if he was dead but she’d seen enough horror movies to know better than to stand over the supposedly dead body.