The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic, and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

Beta credit: bunnyhops and CoquetteKitten.


Hermione arrived at the door to the Headmaster’s office at the same time as Lucius, who drew her hand under his arm. In the doorway, he released her and paused. She halted her forward progress just as his fingers brushed the back of her neck and toyed with her loose curls. She closed her eyes and shivered in pleasure at his touch.


“Into the office with you now, before I thoroughly terrify you,” he murmured.


That broke the spell; Hermione gave a soft snort of laughter and obeyed. She was momentarily distracted by the choice of seating.   The table was set up as it usually was by the fireside, but there was only one chair.


Professor Dumbledore was nowhere in sight. She paused. “Don’t we need a chaperone?”


“The Headmaster’s in his chambers.” Lucius’ head nodded in the direction of the half-opened door at the other end of the room. He drew Hermione toward the table by her hand, and she realized immediately that he expected her to sit on his lap. We’re practically alone. It’s like Wednesday, only this time I’ve promised to kiss him. She felt her heart begin to pound.


Lucius sat and pulled Hermione across his lap in one fluid movement and leaned his head down next to hers. Hermione tried to shut out the sensations of his lips moving against her ear as he murmured, “I’ve decided to introduce you to a pureblood wizarding tradition. It’s customary for wizards to feed their witches on special occasions.”


Lucius broke off a small piece of scone and brought it to her lips, keeping his eyes locked with hers. As she took it into her mouth, her tongue brushed his finger. His eyes darkened, and he looked away briefly. “Would you like tea?”


“Yes, please. Black with-”


“Two lumps of sugar.” At her questioning look, he explained, “Our last breakfast.”


Lucius fed her breakfast almost entirely by hand, only using a fork for the gooey egg. He raised her cup to her mouth, brushed away stray crumbs with his fingers, and watched her with obvious fascination. The meal was almost over at this point, and Lucius was hand-feeding her a strawberry he’d dipped it in cream and sugar. His eyes never left her mouth as he gently pushed the ripe fruit between her lips for each bite, and when she was done he used his thumb to wipe her lip clean.


Hermione was suddenly aware of every one of Lucius’ movements. Back and forth went his thumb, stroking gently but firmly against her bottom lip and pulling it to run ever so slightly inside. She remembered last night’s visit, and the position she’d been in his lap as he’d done the same thing to her mouth.


Her heart seemed to skip a beat, and she felt her eyelids lower even as her occupied mouth moved to give his thumb a wet kiss. She stole a glance at his face. Lucius’ eyes had darkened and his eyes were on her mouth. “I think it’s time to practice your aim, pet. Are you done?”


He’s seducing me. I want to be seduced by Lucius. She was overcome with a feeling of skittishness, but the curl of desire that began twisting inside Hermione was stronger. She nodded when he asked, “Shall we move to our usual spot?”


Lucius led her to their chair in the alcove. He watched her with a predatory look in his eye, and Hermione felt very much like prey. He stretched out his long legs in a casual manner, but Hermione wasn’t sure at all how he expected her to sit down. Wordlessly, he took her by the hand and led her between his legs, to sit on just one of his thighs. She slowly took her seat in this new position, curling her legs up, and waited for him to put his hands on her waist. When he didn’t, she looked at him, confused.


Lucius hadn’t taken his gaze from her face, and she was having a hard time reading his expression. “What is it, pet?”


Hermione picked up one of his well-shaped hands and held it to her waist, then did the same to the other. Lucius withdrew them. “Ah-ah-ah. Tell me what you want.”


“I want you to put your hands on me.”


“You want me to put my hands on you,” he mused. “I would like very much to do that. How shall I touch you, my lovely?” He raised his hand to trace his forefinger over her collarbones and down her shirt’s front placket of buttons to the waistband of her skirt. Down the placket and then up, each time letting his finger barely trace the inner curves of her breasts. Hermione shivered. If I play with snakes, I mostly certainly will get bitten. But I’m marrying this snake . . .


She had been leaning into his touch unconsciously. Now she realized how close she was and blushed, but didn’t move away. He commanded, “Tell me.”


“I want you to put your hands on my waist the way you usually do . . . “ she was trying to remember how to breathe, and her voice was almost a whisper, “ . . . and I think I want you to kiss me.”
Lucius was a tease. He leaned down slowly, eyes on her lips, and hovered over her mouth. When she thought she might die from the anticipation, he barely brushed her lips with his. She felt his hands wrap loosely around her waist at the same time.


“Is that what you think you want?”


The feather-light touch wasn’t what she had wanted from him at all, and her expression must have shown her confusion. He raised an eyebrow expectantly. He wants words.


“I want you to kiss me.”


“But I just did, pet.”


Hermione felt a stab of annoyance, and glared at him. She growled, “I want a real kiss.”


Lucius’ eyes lit up speculatively. “You’d like a real kiss?”


She nodded in relief. “Yes!”


“Yes what?”


“Yes, Lucius.” I will not beg! Yet.


“Good girl.” That last word was partially lost because he had already lowered his mouth to hers. It was their first kiss, and Hermione immediately began cataloguing the differences between his mouth and Draco’s. Both soft, both warm, both exceedingly gentle at the first touch. Both capable of making her feel that tugging sensation deep within her gut.


Draco’s first kiss with her had been sweetly tentative and imbued with purity – for a moment it had made her forget the rest of the world. Lucius’ kiss was as sophisticated and subtly aggressive as the rest of him and it fed her confidence – it gave her the feeling she could conquer the world. She decided she liked kissing them both very, very much.


Lucius began to pull away, but Hermione’s body seemed to take control of itself. She felt herself leaning almost involuntarily into him, closing the gap between their mouths. As their lips met, she felt one of his hands weave into her hair, holding her close. The other pressed firmly against her back, causing her to arch against his chest. She felt the tension of his lips change, felt her own lips part under this new pressure, his tongue sweep over her lower lip.


This was new. She and Draco had just progressed to open-mouthed kisses, and their tongues hadn’t left either of their mouths yet. Her mouth yielded and responded in kind, and Lucius made a sound of approval. His tongue pushed past her lips now, against her own tongue in a stroking motion, and then retreated briefly. He alternated the sensual pattern — kiss, nudge, tease, tongue — until her toes curled within her shoes.   He’s teaching me. He’s going to teach me all kinds of wicked things. When she hesitantly copied him, he smiled against her lips and murmured, “Again.”


Hermione had always been a good student, and she applied all her focus to the task of kissing Lucius as he had just taught her. At first he complied with her lead, but soon took over. His mouth moved to control the kiss, and his tongue gently but firmly pushed hers back. We’re already fighting for control.


Her wizard’s mouth met hers again and again, and the original controlled rhythm slowly changed to a quicker, hungrier one as his careful veneer of control seemed to slip. One of his hands ran along her back and pulled gently at her hair while the other circled her neck, thumb under her chin to keep her head raised. Finally, Lucius drew away from her face breathing heavily. He murmured, “Exquisite.”


His thumb came up to brush against her lip again. “Tell me about last night.”


Regardless of the ambiguity of Lucius’ words, Hermione jumped to the worst possible interpretation. She laid her head on his broad shoulder and bought some time by helping herself to a lungful of the Malfoy scent. How do I say that Draco felt me up and then we had to stop because he wanted to hide his erection from me? I can barely say it to myself! Oh, and then I had to ask Harry why – and he wasn’t even there!


She absentmindedly stroked a lock of Lucius’ hair as she thought her way through the possible conversation. Finally, the young witch sighed in defeat. “I don’t think I’m quite that brave yet.”


Lucius rubbed her back in soothing strokes. “Surely it can’t be that bad, my prize.”


“It wasn’t bad, just embarrassing to talk about. Draco and I didn’t visit very long, and then Harry and I went back to Gryffindor tower. Most of the witches from my house were waiting to congratulate me, and then Harry and I talked before I went to bed.”


It wasn’t going to be that easy. “Tell me what has you so flustered.”


“I can’t! It’s—“ He had pulled her chin up and was kissing her. Not the short, sweet kiss that she had become accustomed to enjoying over the past week with Draco — this was another of Lucius’ intoxicating mouthfuls. Hermione was assaulted by the lush sensation of his rough, wet tongue against hers. She was just forgetting her own name when he pulled back to murmur against her lips, “Tell me.”


He kept her jaw firmly in his grasp, but now pulled it down so that he could lean his chin against her forehead. Hermione blushed and was sure he could feel the heat of her face against his. Lucius spoke into her hair. “Draco and I speak by Floo every night. He told me about your visit. Are you uncomfortable telling me that he ran his hands up the length of your lovely legs?”


“No . . .” All-powerful Circe, they talk every night . . . His hand traced a path up the back of her leg where it curled against his. She felt another wave of heat wash over her face before the previous one had even subsided.


“Or that he found that he could palm your delectable backside with one hand?”


She didn’t answer, sure that her blush had raised the temperature of the room by several degrees. His hand followed his words over the curve of her bottom. “Perhaps you don’t want to say that he cupped one of your beautiful breasts and felt its round weight in his hand?”


“Lucius . . .” she pleaded helplessly, and for what Hermione didn’t know. Now he was running his fingers over her hip and up her ribcage to brush against the underside of her breast.   Part of the embarrassment she’d felt a few minutes ago was quickly being replaced by want.


“No? None of those things would be difficult to say to me? Shall I go on?”


In an effort to gain some control Hermione managed to breathe, “Please don’t.”


“My darling, you seem to be under the misapprehension that your body and its worship are sources of embarrassment. We will work to correct this. In the meantime, I must tell you I find your utter naiveté captivating.”


Hermione lifted her forehead from his chin to look at him in disbelief. He continued, “It is as much of a gift as your pristine physical purity.”


He called me his darling. I think he just said he’s going to corrupt me.


“As enjoyable as it was to watch you blush, what I actually wanted to hear from you was your very public revelation of the betrothal.”


Oh. OH. “I completely forgot to tell you about it last night! You were so tired at first, and then . . .”


“Yes; as you say, and then. Albus briefly told me what happened before you and Draco arrived last night, but I preferred to spend my time with you . . . otherwise.”


She blushed yet again. “Didn’t Draco already tell you all about that, too?”


“I want to hear about it from you.”


Hermione launched into a fairly detailed account of last night’s dinner theatre. Lucius seemed to find it amusing and so she spared no details. When she had finished telling him of her dramatic exit with Draco, he looked pleased.


“I though you might be angry.”


Lucius laughed out loud. “For what, pet? A lesser man’s jealousy over my beautiful wife-to-be? For your magnificent defense of yourself? For the confidence it has clearly restored in you? The pup has been put in his place. I see no need to pay him more attention than he deserves.” He paused to stroke her cheek. “Nevertheless, you will stay away from him. Draco and I have discussed the events of Wednesday in detail and agree your dizziness could be a result of such close proximity to the Weasley boy.”


“It was punishment for breaking a rule?”


“Not a punishment so much as a warning. It would seem the covenant has taken a rather possessive view of you. But let us discus this further another time, and finish our conversation about last night’s announcement.”


Is he waiting for a response? I should respond. I can’t seem to remember how to talk. Merlin’s beard, his eyes are burning me up. “Errrr . . .”


“Your speech brought me great . . .” He leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers, “ . . .pleasure.”


Lucius kissed Hermione until her eyes crossed and her brain was deprived of oxygen. At some point during their time together, he’d pulled her much, much closer to his hip. Now, as she curled even closer to wrap her arms further around his neck, she became aware that her knee was brushing against something that didn’t feel like anything familiar. Either Lucius had something quite large in his pocket, or . . . Her brain flickered to life. Something in his pocket . . . anatomy . . . sweet Circe, mother of magic, I’m in contact with his . . . Hermione froze.


Lucius broke their kiss and looked down at her with amusement. He seemed to know exactly what was running through her head because he chuckled and kissed her one last time before helping her to her feet.   “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, pet.”





%d bloggers like this: