LUCKY

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this tale, and receive no proceeds from it. All borrowed courtesy of Ms. J.K. Rowling

CHAPTER FIVE

Hermione watched in a detached type of fascination as Pansy Parkinson finally stopped at their table. The visibly agitated witch didn’t even glance in Lucius’ direction. Her entire focus seemed to be Hermione.

“I don’t know how you found out that we were to have lunch here, Granger, but you need to leave now.” Pansy gripped her wand tightly in her right hand, her body poised for action.

Frowning at this surprising demand, Hermione responded in confusion, “What are you…”

Pansy cut in harshly, “Oh cut it, Granger! You knew that Ron and I were here and you couldn’t resist a chance to make trouble. Well, I’m not going to stand for it! I won’t say it again. Leave now!”

“Miss Parkinson,” Lucius stood to stand beside Pansy. “How good to see you again. I trust your parents are well?”

Pansy turned to see Lucius just behind her to her right.

“Mr. Malfoy!” She exclaimed, stepping back a bit.

“Hello, Pansy,” Lucius smiled coldly at the young pureblood witch. “As you can see, I am about to have lunch with my fiancée. How kind of you to convey your congratulations. May I escort you back your table?”

At this last pronouncement, Lucius watched Pansy’s eyes widen as his words took effect.

“Of c-c-course,” came the stuttered response. As if reading a cue card above Hermione’s shoulder, Pansy’s stunned gaze glued itself to the spot. “Congratulations, Granger. I wish you and Mr. Malfoy well.”

Hermione could only speculate what Lucius knew about Parkinson that had her so instantly docile. While Lucius returned Pansy to her table, Hermione digested the unpalatable fact that Ron had indeed moved on after their ‘break-up’. She saw Ron come to his feet as Pansy and Lucius arrived. She hoped that Ron would keep his temper when confronted with arrogant pureblood in the flesh.

Seeing the tall redhead, Hermione remembered the night she broke it off with him. How distant and uncaring he had seemed. Hermione was too far to hear what Ron was saying to Lucius, but the way his arm wrapped possessively around Pansy’s waist said it all. All at once, that night made sense. Ron obviously had already moved on at that time.

Anger and despair coursed through her simultaneously. Even if she left Lucius now, there was nothing for her. Ron had Pansy. At least Harry still had Ginny. Shaking her head slightly, Hermione told herself that as long as Harry was happy, it was worth it. After all, even if she had not given into Lucius’ blackmail, Ron probably would still be here with Pansy.

When Lucius returned Hermione had her social mask firmly back in place. As they placed their orders she vowed that she would get through this lunch if it killed her. The whole situation now explained why so many aristocrats wore slightly vacant expressions. Evidently, they were all recovering from broken hearts left only with their enormous pride to sustain them. Laughing at herself silently, Hermione knew that she bore little resemblance to the supposedly beleaguered elite.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Lucius’ question feathered along her earlobe startling Hermione from her musings.

Hermione barely suppressed her gasp as his arm moved her closer to his large body. A delicate touch of tongue behind her ear made any response impossible. She willed herself not to turn her head and surrender to the need to taste those lips that lay so close her own.

Lucius’ other hand lay flat on the surface of the pristine white tablecloth. Hermione focused on the well manicured fingers. They were long and well shaped with a masculine beauty that appealed to her. She had always been a sucker for nice hands.

“Hermione, look at me,” Lucius demanded. Again the warmth of his breath made her immobile.

Swallowing painfully, she slowly turned her head to face Lucius. Her eyes were wary as his hawk-like gaze captured her.

“Relax. I promise not to gobble you down like some forbidden sweet.” His free hand came to stroke the soft skin of her cheek. He continued, “No, you are made to savour. Slowly and carefully.”

Tilting his head he brought his lips so close hers that she could almost taste him. The slight hesitation before their lips met drove a frisson of delight and anticipation up her spine. Ron, Pansy, Harry and Ginny all faded from her mind. As Lucius lips touched her own, Hermione’s parted inviting him into her. He ignored the invitation to trace the opening with his silken tongue. Biting her lower lip lightly, he drew it partially into his mouth. Releasing it slowly, he repeated the act on her upper lip. His lips rested on her own unmoving for a moment before pulling back. Lucius traced his thumb over her swollen mouth.

She was a danger to him, this awkwardly sensual woman. He had nearly forgotten that they were in public. While he wanted people to know that the witch at his side was with him, Lucius did not relish providing a peep show for them. His sexual life was private. With this in mind he let go of Hermione and turned as their food arrived.

Hermione looked down at her plate. Again, another wasted meal. It seemed almost every time she ate with Lucius she suffered a loss of appetite. He created such a roller-coaster of emotions within her that she simply could not enjoy herself. At this rate she was in no danger of packing on unwanted pounds from rich food.

“I’ve made an appointment with Madam Malkin today. I thought we should get the matter of clothing out of the way as soon as possible.” Lucius’ pale eyes travelled over her outfit. It was attractive, but it did not stand out. “Yes, the sooner the better.”

When they arrived for their appointment with Madam Malkin, Hermione was only somewhat surprised at the amount of clothing that had been put aside for them. It would take hours try them all. Hermione had never agonized over her appearance and the seeming surplus was overwhelming. It was easier to defer to Lucius’ likes. But when the lingerie came out, Hermione balked.

“I don’t need you to buy me either underwear or nightgowns. I have my own.” Hermione’s face flushed as she pictured the hodgepodge that sat in her dresser drawer at home.

Lucius lifted a pale brow. “Indeed. I would wager that you have nothing that resembles anything here. Hermione, trust me when I say that huge knickers can ruin an outfit.”

“Agreed, but I would rather choose my own without you sitting there.” Hermione looked at him pointedly. “Just because you’re paying doesn’t entitle to you to see what underwear I choose.”

“But if I leave this up to you, Merlin only knows what you will purchase. I’ve seen your knickers and other than being a pair, they’ve nothing to recommend them.” Lucius’ sneer cut her to the quick.

“Lucius, I swear by all that’s sacred, that I will buy the biggest pair of granny panties if you don’t go away.” Her tightly pursed mouth left him in no doubt that she was quite serious.

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Lucius stood. “Fine. I’ll be in Flourish and Blotts if you need me.”

Hermione reluctantly admired his smooth gait as he quit the room. Goodness, even his stride was sexy. Frustration lanced through her. She suddenly wanted to disprove to both Lucius and herself that she was not sexy. Hermione spent the next hour choosing the most exquisite set of lingerie she’d ever seen.

Later that evening, after Hermione had insisted that she return home alone, she sat in her room amid a flood of clothing. Thankful for magic, Hermione set about putting everything away. The last chore was replacing her old mismatched underwear. For some reason rather than magically disposing of them, Hermione did it by hand, examining each piece with a deep disgust. There really wasn’t one piece that wasn’t visibly worn or outright ready for the dustbin.

“What am I to do,” she whispered softly. “I want him. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I want him.”

Sinking into the floor, she wept quietly. She felt crushed and curiously breathless. She knew that she should mourn the loss of Ron. That if anything, the loss of her youthful love should be what left her feeling airless. But it didn’t. It was the crashing realisation that she truly wanted Lucius Malfoy. Wanted his lips on hers, his hands exploring her body, and for him to claim her as his own. Hermione had never felt such a powerful sexual craving before and it baffled her.

She didn’t have the luxury of giving into her desire, as should they consummate the bond, then they would be required to marry within the next six months. This time limit had been set to legitimise any potential children. Contraceptive potions were not available to betrothed couples. Hermione had never really thought about children, but the idea of being pregnant for Lucius frightened her somewhat. He would never let her go if she became pregnant, and Hermione wasn’t sure if her soul could remain intact should they be forced to marry. Lucius was like a force of nature, intrusive and unstoppable.

Throwing the old underwear in the dustbin angrily, Hermione’s fertile mind came to a sudden conclusion. She just needed to confirm a certain definition before she made her move.

It was almost an hour later before she located the necessary tome. Closing it with a small smirk, Hermione sprinted to the bathroom. It was almost 11 pm and she was taking a chance that he was still awake. She sat at her vanity putting her hair in the most severe bun possible with runaway tendrils escaping her efforts.

She stood and surveyed her work. Prim old-fashioned white blouse tucked into a neat black skirt that hugged her figure. Stiletto heels that made her legs long and elegant. Crimson lips drew all attention on her lightly made up face. Hopefully, the charm that promised no-smudge lips would work. Locating a travelling robe, Hermione went to her floo. Taking a pinch of floo powder and throwing into the fireplace, she wasted no time stepping into the green flames and called out, “Malfoy Manor!”

Lucius looked up as the flames in his library’s fireplace turned green. Who would floo at this time of night. Gripping his wand, he stood to the side of the fireplace prepared to defend himself. To his disbelief, Hermione Granger stepped through dusting off her floo powdered robes.

“You daft bint,” growled Lucius leaping to drag her by an arm from the front of the fireplace. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Lucius practically threw her down on the sofa and towered over her. “What the hell are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

Hermione stumbled to her feet, not liking the height disadvantage sitting gave her. Even in her stilettos she only came up to Lucius’ nose. She moved to the side bracing her legs on the arm of the sofa.

“Of course I know what time it is, Lucius. I need to talk to you.” Hermione gave him a disapproving glare worthy of Professor McGonagall. “I wanted to go over some of the terms of the betrothal agreement.”

Lucius’ eyes narrowed in speculation. Something was not right. She was up to something. “Exactly what is the problem, Hermione?”

“Well, as you know if we consummate the bond, we’ll be obligated by the Ministry to be married within six months.” Hermione waited for Lucius to respond.

When he nodded, she continued. “I’ve come across the definition of consummation that the Ministry recognizes. It is clear that their definition of sexual intercourse means penetration.” At this her voice died, twin flames graced her cheekbones.

Lucius was very still. What was clear to him was that Hermione was attempting to avoid being forcibly married to him. He could take what she was offering, he had no doubt there were a myriad of ways that he could delight in her body without penetration. But he had come to a decision today. He would marry Hermione and gorge himself on her indefinitely.

Hermione undid the clasp at her robe allowing it to pool to her feet. She knew her appearance was a contradiction of repression and overt sexuality. Kicking the robes lightly to her right she stepped towards Lucius.

She twined her arms around his neck and pressed her body into him. Her soft lips found his Adam’s apple and kissed her way up to his taut jaw. Abruptly, her arms were wrenched from around Lucius' neck and he held her away from him.

“You presume too much, Miss Granger. You think to tempt me with but a taste of you charms.” His voice was liked raw silk and enveloped her with its intensity. “I am not a man for half-measures. If you ever come here again thinking to ‘play’ with me, I assure you that you will find yourself flat on your back with your legs in the air.” Hermione stared dumbfounded into heated grey eyes.

His hands tightened like vice-grips on her arms, he pulled her in close so that his lips were directly over hers. “Trust me, sweetheart, if you wish to remain a virgin you will leave now.” His threat hung in the air almost tangible.

Lucius loosed his hold enough that Hermione was able to fall from him only to land back on the sofa. Blindly reaching for her robes on the floor, she ran for the fireplace. Her quaking fingers spilled more floo than it actually held. How she arrived home was still a mystery to her, as she had no recollection of ever uttering a word.

As Hermione undressed in a zombie-like state, Lucius drank himself into oblivion. That mudblood was going to be the death of him. Closing his eyes, he saw her again in his mind’s eye. How utterly appealing she had been. Her brown eyes promising heaven had his groin tightening yet again. How he had let her go was beyond him. He should have just fucked her then and there. Shit! Hermione was bright and would soon conclude that he was backing her into a corner. Hell, her actions tonight proved that she was already there and attempting to find a way around it. He would have to be very careful or it all would blow up in his face. Lucius knew that fate was a capricious mistress at best, and that one must always have contingency plans in place. With that thought the drunken wizard went to bed, after all tomorrow was Sunday, and there was so much to do.


***A/N: Hint, hint...next update will be within the next 7 seven days as a certain event is upcoming. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers!