Chapter Text
Their office was eerily silent, save for the steady ticking of an enchanted clock above the fireplace. Hermione sat at the large desk, her quill skimming over the parchment as she worked on her final report. Or, at least she tried to. No matter how focused her gaze, her thoughts betrayed her.
Across from her, Lucius sat with practiced elegance, reviewing the reports from the Daily Prophet team. His expression was inscrutable, but Hermione felt his occasional glances, the weight of his presence pressing against her resolve.
“Miss Granger,” he said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was steady but carried a softness that made her heart lurch. “It seems we’ve been avoiding a rather... significant matter.”
Her quill froze mid-word. The knot in her stomach tightened as she forced herself to keep her gaze down. “I wasn’t aware there was anything to discuss,” she replied, her tone terse, though the unsteadiness in her voice betrayed her.
“Let’s not insult each other with pretence,” Lucius said, leaning back in his chair, his tone sharpening. “We haven’t spoken properly all week. Not since—”
“Since we made a mistake,” she interrupted, the words tumbling out quickly. Finally lifting her gaze to meet his, she added, “A lapse in judgment. One we’ve both moved on from.”
Lucius’s brow arched, a faint, sardonic smile tugging at his lips. “Moved on?” he repeated, the disbelief evident. “Can you truly say that? Because I cannot. And I refuse to tiptoe around this any longer. I want us to speak again.”
Heat rose to Hermione’s cheeks, anger and vulnerability warring within her. “What would you have me say?” she shot back, her voice cracking. “That it’s haunted me every day since? That it was reckless and wrong and—”
“And that you felt something,” he interjected, his voice dropping to a quiet intensity that cut through her words. “Because I did. And lying to ourselves about it serves neither of us.”
Her chest tightened, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. She turned her gaze to the faint embers in the fireplace, watching the soft orange glow shift against the walls. “What do you want from me, Lucius?” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.
“Honesty,” he said simply.
She drew a shaky breath, the weight of his demand cutting through her carefully constructed defences. “Fine,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you. And it terrifies me.”
Lucius exhaled slowly, his posture softening. Though his expression remained guarded, there was a flicker of something raw in his eyes. “You’re not alone in that, Hermione." he said quietly.
Hearing her first name fall from his lips again sent a shiver down her spine. She turned to him, her carefully built walls crumbling in the face of his vulnerability.
“We shouldn’t have done it,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Perhaps not,” Lucius murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to echo through the quiet room. “But I find I care less for what we ‘should’ do and more for what feels... inevitable.”
The words hung between them, heavy and charged. Slowly, tentatively, he reached across the desk. His fingers brushed against hers, the touch fleeting but enough to send sparks racing through her veins.
She didn’t pull away.
The moment stretched unbearably, the air thick with unspoken promises. Lucius stood, his movements deliberate, as he crossed the small distance to her side of the desk. Hermione’s breath caught as he stopped before her, the heat of his presence erasing any space left between them.
Gently, he reached for her hand again, this time pulling her to her feet. His touch was firm yet tender, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as though testing her resolve. When his fingers tilted her chin upward, their gazes locked, and Hermione saw in his eyes the same war of emotions raging within her.
“Tell me to stop,” Lucius murmured, his gaze searching hers. “And I will.”
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but the words stuck in her throat. Every logical thought fled, leaving only the undeniable pull between them. She couldn’t say it—couldn’t tell him to stop.
Instead, she took a slow breath, her heart hammering in her chest, and unable to stop herself, she whispered, “Don’t stop.”
His gaze darkened, and before she could even process his next move, Lucius was already reaching into his pocket, drawing his wand with a fluid motion. “Colloportus,” he murmured softly, the faint glow from his wand casting a brief shadow across the room as the door locked. The heavy click seemed to reverberate through the room, sealing them in the small, confined space. There was no turning back now.
Without a word, he tilted her chin upward once again, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was all-consuming, urgent. There was no hesitation this time. It wasn’t reckless, but it was desperate—weeks and weeks of tension finally unravelling, two people caught in a storm of desire neither could deny.
Hermione’s hands moved of their own accord, her fingers grasping at his collar, pulling him closer. She could feel the heat of his body, the pulse of his heart against hers. The air between them was thick, charged with something far beyond simple attraction.
As their kiss deepened, Lucius's hands moved to her waist, pressing her against the desk. Hermione’s pulse raced, but even then, she couldn't bring herself to pull away.
When they finally broke apart, their breathing ragged, Hermione could feel the weight of the room closing in on her. Her lips tingled from his kiss, but her mind was racing.
“We shouldn't be doing this,” she whispered, her words filled with uncertainty, though her body betrayed her.
Lucius, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers, exhaled slowly. “No, we shouldn’t...” he murmured, his fingers brushing the side of her face before pulling her back toward him, this time with a quiet intensity that shattered any lingering doubts.
Hermione’s body responded to his touch, her heart pounding in her chest as his lips found hers again. This time, the kiss was measured, yet passionate. It was deep and probing, as if he were trying to convey every emotion he held back and was unable to voice. The scent of sandalwood enveloped her and she felt emboldened.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his silver hair. The sensation of his lips on hers sent shivers down her spine, and she could feel herself surrendering to the moment.
Lucius's hands moved to her waist, gently untucking her blouse from her skirt. Hermione gasped as his fingers trailed up her sides, the touch light and teasing. She felt a rush of heat flood from her head to her toes.
He pressed her back against the desk, his lips never leaving hers. She could feel the cool wood pressing into her, grounding her, as his touch ignited her. Their bodies pressed together, Hermione felt every inch of him, the hard planes of his chest, the firmness of his arms. It was intoxicating and overwhelming, a heady mix of need and longing.
Hermione's thoughts scattered like embers in the wind, her entire focus narrowing to the sensation of Lucius's touch, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body pressing against hers.
She could feel his hands exploring her, their touch igniting a trail of fire across her skin. His fingers traced the line of her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, before moving lower, unbuttoning her blouse with deft, practiced movements. Her breath hitching in her throat as she fought to keep up with the onslaught of sensation.
Lucius’s lips moved to her neck, his kisses soft and lingering, leaving a scorching trail in their wake. Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest, her fingers clutching at his shoulders for support as she tried to steady herself.
“Lucius,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
She immediately forgot whatever she had been about to say as he cut her off with another kiss, this one slow and deep, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened for him. She couldn’t think, couldn’t form the words to express the tumult of emotions whirling within her.
All she could do was respond, her hands exploring his body with newfound boldness, her fingers clumsily pushing his robes off of his shoulders.
He helped her, shrugging out of them and letting them pool on the floor. His hands found her blouse again, this time freeing her completely from the restrictive fabric. She stood before him in her skirt and her bra, feeling utterly vulnerable and yet sexy at the same time.
Lucius's eyes travelled over her body, taking in every curve and line, as if committing them to memory. His fingers brushed against the skin of her shoulder, tracing the strap of her bra. Hermione shuddered, her breath catching in her throat.
“You’re beautiful, Hermione,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The sincerity in his words caught her off guard, and she felt her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure.
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper back, her voice barely audible. It hit her in that moment that this was the first time she’d been called beautiful in possibly years. It was a simple word, but it felt like a warm blanket on a cold night. A much-needed affirmation. Hermione felt tears sting her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she reached up and cupped Lucius’s face, her thumbs brushing away a rogue strand of silver hair.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said cheekily.
Lucius chuckled as he rid himself of his own shirt and kicked off his shoes. “Not so bad?” he echoed, his smirk returning. “You’re too kind, Miss Granger.”
Hermione felt a rush of heat at his gentle teasing. “I never thought I’d say this,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, “but I quite like you, Lucius Malfoy.”
A slow smile spread across his face, and he reached up to capture one of her hands in his.
"I'm glad to hear it, Hermione. I quite like you too."
Lucius recaptured Hermione’s lips, his mouth moving softly against hers, a gentle exploration compared to their previous fervent kisses. It was a tender kiss, filled with an unexpected sweetness. She melted into him, her hands moving to his bare chest, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle she found there.
His deft fingers found the zip to her skirt , and with a swift tug, it fell to the floor, pooling at her feet. He stepped back, his eyes roving over her body clad only in her underwear, his gaze hungry and intense.
"You are so fucking beautiful, Hermione," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The words had an unexpected effect on her, she felt a dampness between her thighs.
Hermione reached for the waistband of Lucius's trousers, her fingers fumbling with the buttons. Finally, she managed to get them undone, and she pushed them down his hips. He stepped out of them, standing before her in only his underwear.
Hermione swallowed hard, her gaze taking in the sight of him. He was tall and lean, with muscles that spoke of a life of magic and privilege. She could see the outline of his erection straining against his briefs, and her stomach fluttered nervously.
Lucius took her hand and guided her to sit on the edge of the desk. He stood between her legs, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you want this, Hermione?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "Tell me to stop if you don't."
Hermione nodded, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "I shouldn’t, but I do want this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I want you."
Lucius groaned softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and sending a wave of heat through Hermione. He leaned down, his lips capturing hers again, his hands reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. He moved slowly, tantalisingly, his fingers trailing down her back as her bra fell away, leaving her bare to his gaze.
Lucius broke their kiss, his eyes roving over her body, taking in every inch of her exposed skin. He bent down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her collarbone, moving lower, tracing a path with his tongue. Hermione gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin.
Lucius's mouth moved lower, his tongue circling one of her nipples, before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently. Hermione arched her back, her breath coming in short gasps. She could feel the heat building between her thighs, a throbbing ache that wanted more.
He moved to her other breast, giving it the same attention, his fingers teasing her nipple as his tongue teased the other.
Hermione let out a soft moan, her head falling back, her body arching to give him better access. Lucius chuckled softly against her skin, the sound sending shivers down her spine.
He moved his mouth lower still, kissing a trail down her stomach, his hands caressing her thighs.
“Lucius,” Hermione gasped. “What are you—”
“Shh,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he kissed the inside of her thigh. “Let me.”
Hermione swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him. She felt his lips brush against the fabric of her underwear, his breath warm against her core.
“Lucius,” she whispered again, her voice shaking.
She felt his fingers hook into the sides of her underwear, slowly easing them down her legs. Hermione lifted her hips, allowing him to remove them completely. She was now fully exposed to him, and she waited with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
Lucius looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. “My, what a pretty pussy you were hiding from me.” he said, his voice thick with need. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
Hermione’s breath hitched, and she felt a surge of wetness between her thighs. “Please,” she gasped. She leant back on the desk, uncaring of the pieces of parchment and quills scattering to the floor. Her legs parted instinctively, inviting him closer.
Lucius’s dark chuckle echoed in the room as he settled between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs. “You’re so deliciously wet, Hermione,” his fingers tracing the length of her slit. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her most intimate place, making her quiver.
“I—I’m not usually like this,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing deep red. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but at the same time, she was burning with desire.
Lucius’s fingers glided along her slick folds, parting her gently, exploring her with a tenderness that belied the raw need she saw in his eyes.
“You want this as much as I do, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a low growl.
Hermione nodded, too aroused to be embarrassed anymore. “Yes, Lucius. I want this.”
He chuckled, the sound dark and intense. “Good girl,” he said, his voice laced with approval.
Hermione swallowed hard, her body all but liquifying as Lucius’s mouth replaced his fingers. His lips were soft and warm, teasing her clit with gentle, exploratory kisses. Her hips bucked, seeking more of his touch.
Lucius chuckled against her, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through her. “You’re so responsive, Hermione,” he murmured, his tongue flicking out to taste her more deeply.
Hermione bit back a groan, her hands fisting the edge of the desk.
Each soft kiss, each gentle lick, was like heaven. She could feel tension building between her legs, a throbbing ache that demanded more.
Lucius seemed to sense her need, his tongue delving deeper. He licked and sucked on her clit, driving her closer to the edge with each stroke of his tongue. Hermione’s hips bucked against his face, her breath coming in short gasps.
“Fuck, Lucius,” she moaned, her fingers tangled in his silver hair. She was panting now, her body trembling as he continued to work her with expert precision.
"You taste so good, Hermione," he murmured before diving back in, his tongue lapping at her with fervour.
Hermione could no longer form coherent thoughts. There was only sensation, only pleasure. Her hips moved in time with his mouth, chasing the ecstasy that was building like a storm.
His mouth focused on her clit as he once again brought his fingers into the mix, sliding slowly, effortlessly inside her. The intrusion was met with a low groan from Hermione, her body arching as her pelvis pushed against his hand.
"Fuck, right there," she said. The word sounded vulgar, even to her own ears, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, it felt too good.
Lucius’s fingers moved rhythmically, matching the pace of his tongue, and Hermione was lost in the sensations, her body a taut wire ready to snap.
She could feel the pressure building, a wave of pleasure threatening to consume her.
She felt Lucius’s fingers moving deeper, curling inside her, stroking against a sensitive spot that had her crying out.
“Fuck, Lucius, I’m—I’m close,” she gasped, her body tensing as the sensation became almost too much to bear.
Lucius quickened his pace, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to drive her closer to the edge. He growled against her, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through her.
“That’s it, love,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. “Come for me. Come all over my tongue, Hermione.”
His words sent another shockwave through her, the combination of his filthy mouth and the feel of his tongue and fingers working her proved to be too much for her.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—” Hermione couldn’t finish the sentence as a powerful wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her body tensed and her thighs gripped around Lucius’s head as she came undone, a loud cry escaping her lips.
Lucius groaned against her, his fingers and tongue not slowing until her body stopped convulsing with waves of bliss.
Hermione lay limp and breathless on the desk, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. Her legs released and Lucius pulled back, his lips glistening with her release, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
"Did you enjoy that?" he teased.
Hermione could only blink up at him, her body still humming with post-orgasmic pleasure. She felt weak and boneless, her legs still spread wide open for him to see.
Lucius stood, his tall frame towering over her. He pulled down his underwear, his erection finally springing free.
Hermione couldn't help but stare, her mouth going dry at the sight of him. He was hard and thick, a drop of liquid glistening at the tip. She felt another rush of wetness between her thighs, her body responding to his arousal.
"Lucius… You're huge," she whispered, her voice barely more than a gasp.
Lucius smiled wickedly, his eyes gleaming with lust as he stepped out of his underwear. "And you're so tight," he noted, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait to see how well we fit together."
He stepped closer, his erection brushing against her inner thigh.
Hermione’s breath hitched, and she could feel her own desire building again, her body aching for more. Lucius leaned over her, his hands gripping her hips, and pulled her to the edge of the desk.
Hermione squealed at the sudden movement. Now she could feel the weight of Lucius’s cock, hard and hot, pressing against her. He leaned further forward and planted kisses on her face, his mouth moving lower, tracing a path along her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.
Hermione arched her back, her fingers again knotting into his hair as he teased her, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
She could feel the head of his cock, slick and hard, probing through her folds. He teased her until she couldn’t take it any more. “Lucius, please…” she begged.
“Please, what? I’m not sure what you want from me”.
“Please, fuck me.”
His eyes flashed with desire. He notched himself at her entrance and pressed in slowly, patiently, giving her body time to adjust to his size.
"Fuck, you're tight," Lucius groaned, his shoulders tense with the effort of holding back. "You feel almost too good, Hermione."
Hermione dug her nails into the desk, her breath coming in short gasps as he filled her inch by agonising inch. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as it stretched her, filled her. It was a delicious burn, a pleasure-pain that made her head spin. He pulled back slightly before thrusting forward again, a slow, deliberate motion that made her see stars.
The sensation was intense, the stretching feeling dissolved into one of pure pleasure. Lucius’s hands gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh as he began to find a rhythm, each thrust pushing him deeper inside her.
Hermione moaned, her head falling back as she dug her heels into the edge of the desk, her body arching to meet his thrusts. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room, the wet smack of flesh against flesh echoing off the walls. She could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched her, the way he filled her completely.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper still as she urged him on. "Lucius, that feels so good," her voice was filled with pleasure.
Lucius groaned as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. "Hermione," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "You’re such a good girl, squeezing my cock like that.”
Flushing at the praise, she leaned further back, her spine arching and her hips rotating in such a way his cock hit the magical spot inside with each thrust.
Lucius watched, transfixed on her breasts as they moved with him. “I’m not going to last long. You’re too sexy,” he groaned, his voice dripping with lust. “Look at you, taking my cock like a fucking queen.”
Hermione moaned and stretched her arms above her to hold onto the desk, her entire body quivering at his words. She’d never heard such filthy things aimed at her during sex before, and the way he spoke them was sending her into overdrive.
Lucius chuckled darkly, his hips snapping against hers with renewed vigour.
"You like it when I talk dirty to you, don't you, Hermione? You like hearing me say how fucking sexy you are."
Hermione could only nod, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as he pounded into her with a force that bordered on brutal. She loved it—loved the way his hands gripped her hips, the way he guided her, controlled her. She wanted more.
“Fuck, Lucius, right there!” she cried out. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
"Tell me you want it, Hermione," Lucius ordered. "Tell me you want my cock pounding into you like this."
Hermione let out a breathy moan, her back arching as she met his thrusts. "Yes, Lucius," she panted. "I want it. I want you to fuck me hard."
Lucius groaned, his hips snapping against hers with more force. "Fuck yes, you take my cock so well. “Are you going to come all over my cock like a good girl?” He thrust deeper, harder, each movement filling her completely, stretching her to her limits.
Hermione was breathless, her body trembling with the effort to speak. “Yes,” she cried out. “I’m going to come all over your cock.”
Lucius’s moan was low and guttural, the sound sending another shockwave of pleasure through her. He pulled back slightly before slamming into her again, the force of his thrusts sending her body crashing into another orgasm. Her juices spilt out of her, coating both of them and the desk below.
Lucius bellowed as he joined her, his own orgasm ripping through him with the force of a tidal wave. He dropped his forehead to her chest, his body shuddering with the aftershocks.
They were both silent for a moment, their breathing coming in ragged gasps as they tried to catch their breath. The scent of their sex filled the room, heavy and heady. Lucius took a moment to recover before he finally pulled out of her, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He collapsed onto the chair beside the desk, his eyes locked on her.
Hermione lay sprawled across the desk, her legs still spread wide, her body trembling with the remnants of her orgasm, his come lewdly dripping out of her pussy to join her juices on the desk.
Lucius looked at her with a mixture of awe and lust still burning in his eyes. He rubbed his thumb across her, pushing his come back inside of her. "You look so fucking beautiful like this," he murmured, his eyes devouring the sight of her, spread out and glistening with their mixed juices. "Like you belong to me.”
Hermione flushed at his words, but she couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her. She felt hot and exposed, her body still humming with residual pleasure.
Lucius pulled her down to sit on his lap and leaned in, his mouth meeting hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. His tongue plundered her mouth, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her closer.
“You’re incredible, Hermione.” He whispered against her lips.
Suddenly shy, Hermione buried her face in his neck. She adjusted herself so that she was straddling him, her core pressed against his now soft cock. Lucius ran his hands up and down her back, gentler now, more reverent. His touch was soft and soothing, a stark contrast to the fierce, demanding nature of their lovemaking.
Hermione snuggled closer into his chest, her heart still pounding in her chest. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, beneath her ear. She felt safe and cherished in his arms.
"We should clean up," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy.
Lucius chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. "In a moment," he said.
"Let me hold you a little longer."
Hermione nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she soaked in the warmth of his body, the comfort of his embrace. She could feel his cock against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body. Despite the mess they were in, she found herself wanting him again, aching for him to fill her once more. She shifted her hips, grinding against him.
Lucius groaned softly, his hands firm on her hips. “Darling,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her neck, “I’m not as young as I once was. I’ll need a moment to recover.”
The words sent a wave of heat rushing through Hermione’s cheeks as reality crept back in. She tried to shift away, but his hands held her in place, steady and reassuring. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, embarrassment coloring her tone. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Shh,” Lucius interrupted gently, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her back. “There’s nothing to apologise for. If anything, I should be the one apologising—my refractory period isn’t what it once was.”
Despite herself, Hermione let out a soft, startled laugh, glancing up at him. “You don’t have to apologise for that,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t know what came over me.”
Lucius chuckled, the sound rich and indulgent. “You were being wonderfully forward,” he said, his pale eyes gleaming with warmth. “And I adored every moment of it.”
He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple before adding, “We should clean up—and talk.”
Reluctantly, Hermione slipped from his lap, the sudden coolness of the room stark against her flushed skin. As she stood, self-consciousness crept in, her vulnerability stark and unguarded.
Lucius rose with fluid grace, his gaze sweeping over her with an intensity that made her shiver. Gently, he reached out, brushing his knuckles against her cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just beautiful,” he murmured, the words a quiet, reverent promise.
Hermione’s breath caught. How could he make her feel so cherished and exposed all at once? She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the cloud of emotions swirling in her chest.
“Lucius,” she began, her voice hesitant but steady, “we need to talk about what just happened.”
He nodded, his expression softening. “We do. But first, let’s clean up, and then we have work to do.”
Retrieving his wand, he cast a series of cleansing charms, each movement precise and elegant. The faint shimmer of magic hung in the air, leaving them both refreshed, though the charged tension between them remained.
They dressed in silence, the weight of unspoken words pressing on them. Hermione’s hands trembled slightly as she fastened her blouse, her mind a whirlwind of questions. When she glanced around, her gaze landed on the chaos they’d left in their wake—scattered parchments and toppled quills littering the desk.
“The reports!” she exclaimed, rushing to gather the documents.
Lucius chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, his tone laced with humour. “It seems I have a rather... distracting effect on you.”
Hermione snapped upright, her eyes narrowing as she shot him a glare over her shoulder. “I’m not the only one who was distracted, Lucius,” she retorted sharply, though the hint of a smile betrayed her.
He arched a brow, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Touché,” he murmured. His voice dropped, becoming almost teasing. “Though I can’t say I’ve been this... engaged in a meeting in quite some time.”
Her breath caught, but she refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she stacked the parchments on the desk with precise movements before sitting back at her desk, her mind racing with the implications of what had just happened.
“This changes nothing,” she said abruptly, her voice shaky but resolute.
Lucius’s brow lifted slightly. His smirk deepened, a glint of mischief in his pale eyes. “Doesn’t it?”
“No,” she snapped, grabbing her quill as though immersing herself in work would erase the last hour. “We still have a report to finalise. That’s all that matters.”
Lucius leaned against the desk, watching her with maddening calm. “Of course,” he drawled, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Professionalism above all else.”
Hermione ignored him, focusing fiercely on the parchment before her. Her hand trembled as she wrote, and she clenched her jaw to steady it. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, but she refused to acknowledge it.
Lucius finally seated himself beside her, his expression unreadable as he scanned the scattered reports. “Let’s get back to it then,” he said smoothly, as though nothing had transpired.
Hermione shot him a sideways glance, noting the way his lips curved just slightly, betraying the smug satisfaction he was clearly trying to mask. She shook her head, suppressing the frustrated laugh bubbling in her chest, and turned back to the task at hand.
With a flick of her wand, she tidied the room and organized the scattered quills. The Wizengamot presentation loomed, and it demanded her full attention.
She leaned forward, her quill gliding over the parchment with renewed focus. But the warmth of Lucius’s presence beside her—and the weight of his gaze occasionally lingering on her—refused to be ignored. She had to finish the work, the report, and maintain some semblance of professionalism before they could confront whatever it was between them. There was no escaping the truth—they needed to talk. About what had just happened, what it meant for their respective relationships, and what it meant for them. It couldn’t stay in the silence of this room, hanging between them like a charged thread, waiting to snap. Not if they were ever going to find a way forward.