How Could You Use a Poor Maiden So?

[melfinatheblue]

Title:How Could You Use a Poor Maiden So?
Author/Artist:melfinatheblue
Rating:R
Pairing:Lucius/Hermione, Lucius/Severus
Summary:Lucius is trying to use Hermione to get out of Azkaban after Deathly Hallows
Warnings:Het, Slash, not canon-compliant (because I decided some characters didn't die and, um, there is no epilogue)
Notes:Originally a challenge fic, but I missed the challenge.
Word Count:3500

"Really, Harry, you're acting like I don't know what I'm doing."

"I really don't think you do, Hermione. This isn't an insane Death Eater. This is Lucius Malfoy we're talking about here. The man's a master manipulator. He's just using you to get what he wants!"

Harry didn't realize he was yelling until Hermione covered her ears. Her office was rather small and had a tendency to magnify any sound in it.

"Harry, calm down. I'm just talking to him. The only thing he's asked me for is a cup of Earl Gray, and after having the tea in Azkaban, I understand why. The stuff tastes like the guards have been boiling pairs of dirty socks in it for a week."

"He's a Malfoy. They make up their own rules, Hermione. You really think he won't use you."

"I think he's not stupid. He has no power, Harry. His own family's abandoned him. He didn't even know Draco'd married till I showed him the announcement."

She pointed to a large newspaper clipping on her desk. Harry picked it up and looked at it. It was an entire front page from the Prophet. Draco stood next to a rather pretty light-haired young woman. The headline read "The Malfoys and the Malones: the two oldest pureblooded families united."

"You know, I had managed to avoid this until now. I really don't care."

"And from the way your eyes dropped instantly to his groin, I'm sure I believe you."

"Hermione! I do not feel that way about Malfoy."

"I'm not suggesting you love him or anything like that. You want to shag him. No shame in that. I suspect over half the magical world feels the same way."

"Hermione, stop changing the subject. We're talking about you and Luscious Malfoy, not me and Draco Malfoy."

"Lucius, not Luscious."

"I don't care."

"Yes, you do. It's a calculated insult. You fear him, so you get his name wrong in an insulting way. It's very petty, and I expect better of you, Harry, I really do."

Harry sighed. Damn Hermione. How Ron put up with her sometimes was beyond him.

"So, how's Ron?"

"He's enjoying the prep for the cup. And the weather in Bulgaria is quite good this time of year, apparently."

"Ginny says Molly's starting to wonder about you two."

"Molly can wonder all she likes. Both Ron and I have other things to do right now. We both have careers. Just because Molly's a bit old-fashioned doesn't mean she should expect me to get married and start popping out babies."

"You know, Hermione, I really hope you know what you're doing. I doubt three years in Azkaban have changed Lucius Malfoy one bit."

"Trust me, Harry," Hermione said, as she guided him to the door. "And clean your boots. They're a mess."

Azkaban had changed after the fall of the Dark Lord. There had been an effort to make it brighter and more cheerful. Hermione shivered as she walked under the gate. It really just made the place that much worse. Some of the guards waved to her as she walked past. The Ministry had hunted down the remaining Dementors, and hired a mixture of Squibs, Muggles, and really anyone they could get as prison guards. Some were decent enough people, and some were rather nasty. But the need at the time had been quite urgent, and there weren't anywhere near enough Aurors to waste some guarding prisoners. After all, none of the prisoners had wands, and they all had Squib collars placed on them. They might still be dangerous, but only physically. Not like some of the guards. She shuddered. She'd heard stories about those first few months, when the Ministry was hiring anyone they could get. Brutal beatings. Prisoners locked away without food or water. Unforgivables used as punishments. She'd asked Lucius once. A shadow had crossed his face and he'd simply said that he was grateful for the better conditions now. She hadn't pressed, though she was curious.

She entered the third floor maximum security ward, nicknamed Green Light ward. This was where all the high-level Death Eaters, including such notables as Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, and Bellatrix Lestrange, were housed. She nodded to Snape. She was never going to be able to think of him as someone who belonged here.

"Meeting with Lucius again? You're playing with fire, Granger."

"You and Harry keep playing the same tune. I'm analyzing him, same as the rest of you. Oh, and I have a package for you, from Harry. He thought you might want some socks and gloves."

"Tell Potter not to bother."

"He's going to bother, no matter what I tell him. He feels guilty that he couldn't get you off."

"It was not a big surprise to me. You confront small minds with a cunning scheme, they get confused and want the source of the confusion to go away."

"Is there anything you'd like? A book, perhaps?"

"Other than a fully-stocked potions lab and my freedom, no. And my previous statement stands. You've taken three times as long with him as you have with the rest of us. Why are you still trying to analyze him? You're not going to figure him out."

"My boss is very interested in him. She thinks there are hidden depths."

"There are, and you're never going to see them. All you're going to see is what he wants you to."

"Well, what he wants me to see tells me something too. I'm not a child anymore, Snape, and I trust Lucius Malfoy as far as I can throw him."

"Keep that uppermost in your mind, Granger."

"I do. Now if you'll excuse me."

Snape walked back to his bed, shaking his head. Granger was already lost, she just didn't know it yet. She was seeing only what Lucius wanted her to see. Damn, the man was good. A heartless, selfish, manipulative bastard, but good.

There was a guard standing by Lucius's cell, waiting for her. Hermione didn't recognize him, but that didn't mean much. Guards rotated frequently out of Green Light, either because they'd been caught beating the prisoners or because they couldn't take being there anymore. This one lacked the worn look, so he was probably quite new. She gave him a couple of weeks.

"He's all ready for you, ma'am. Just call me when you're ready to go, or if he gives you any trouble."

"Thank you."

He opened the door for her, and she walked inside. Lucius was normally cuffed to a chair to prevent him injuring her (prison regulations). Today he was chained spread-eagled to his bed. He did not look very comfortable. There were fresh bruises on his face, neck, and what she could see of his body.

"Guard!"

He opened the door.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Could you please chain him to a chair, as is normally done? Talking to him like that is going to be rather awkward."

"It's what they told me to do, ma'am."

"Don't fret yourself, Ms. Granger. Mr. Thompson here is just following orders. No need to make things difficult for him."

"What happened?"

"Bella decided to make some trouble this morning during an inspection. The warden is rather unhappy about it."

"He shouldn't take it out on you."

"The world is not a fair place. It has never been and never will be one. I am resigned to that. At least I have your pleasant company to distract me for a while."

"You consider the company of a mudblood pleasant? Your compatriots must be shocked."

"Would you like me to go over this again, Ms. Granger? You are a mudblood insofar as you choose not to respect traditions that have been in place for hundreds of years. You come into a world you are not born into, and try to change traditions you do not understand, traditions that have good reasons for existing in their current state, but you have no care for that. All you care about is that they clash with your personal opinions and your own personal morality, and so you tear at the fabric of our society. That makes you a mudblood."

The last time she had argued with him about particular traditions. This time she decided to take a wider track, see how he reacted.

"And why do these traditions exist? What is their grand purpose?"

"To keep us safe! What would happen if Muggle society became aware of our existence? The last time we had witch hunts. This time, do you think they would stop before they hunted down and killed each and every one of us. Muggleborns and half bloods can go to ground in the Muggle world, Ms Granger. The purebloods cannot. We have no other world, and no other options. We would die, and with us the Wizarding World. So we cling to our traditions, foolish though they may seem to you, and attack those who attack them. I do not come into your house and tell you how you should live, and yet each year more people come into my house and tell me how wrong I am to live the way I do. Is it any surprise that the Dark Lord was so seductive?"

Hermione was silent for a moment. That had never occurred to her.

"But he killed people."

"Yes. And you mudbloods killed a society. He just hastened its demise. Honestly, I don't know who's worse. And I don't know which I hate myself more for, believing his lies, or going along with him even after I knew they were lies."

"Why did you keep going along with him?"

"Part of the Dark Mark's magic is blood-bound. He could reach Draco through that, kill him through that, no matter where I hid him. And his life was, is worth everything to me. I'd kill for him, die for him."

"Why?"

"He's my son."

"Is your bloodline so important?"

"No. I love my son, Ms. Granger. I love him with every fiber of my being, and simply because I am not a physically demonstrative man, do not think I do not love him any less."

"Have you ever hugged your son?"

"That is between the two of us, Ms. Granger. Do you think my filial relations will give you an insight into my personality?"

"I think your relationship with your father, which you will not talk about, has a direct effect on your relationship with your son."

"Now that is a very frightening thought."

"Why?"

"You'll get no more out of me than that. If I tell you all my mysteries, these delightful visits will cease, and the only talks I will have for the rest of my life will be with Bella. She's not much of a conversationalist."

"I still visit Professor Snape."

"Well, you like Professor Snape. Plus, the prat who lived is convinced of his innocence. Or that he was playing the Dark Lord for a fool. One of the two."

"And what do you think?"

"Severus is certainly not an innocent. Let's just say he's as good with his tongue as he is with his brewing."

Hermione started to blush.

"Surely, Ms. Granger, you're not that much of an innocent. Severus has wonderful hands. Absolutely wonderful hands and mouth."

Lucius Malfoy was staring up at the ceiling, a dreamy smile on his face.

"There are some things I am simply not interested in. The sex life of my former professor is one of them."

Lucius looked over at her. She was suddenly very aware that this man had sex. It had never really occurred to her before. He had sex, lots of sex. Suddenly her mind was full of images of him having sex. Something Snape had said once in a session crossed her mind...

"Lucius Malfoy is a very proud man. If he does it, he's going to do it well indeed."

She crossed her legs, trying to ignore the throbbing that had started between them. She did not need to be aroused right now.

"You may not be interested in Severus's sex life, but you certainly seem to be interested in mine. Or is that all part of your analysis? Would you like to know exactly what I like to do to a woman? Would that be useful to you?"

He was smirking at her now and his voice was low, almost purring.

"Would you like to hear about how I love to hear a woman scream as she orgasms again and again? I consider a night a failure unless she comes at least three times, you know. Would you like that, Ms. Granger, to hear about my sexual preferences? I'm quite willing to go into detail."

The room was suddenly very hot. Hermione started to fan herself.

"I find most men, especially young men, are always in so much of a hurry. Just stick it in the hole with a minimum of foreplay. Shame they're missing all the fun. There are even some men who leave their partner to finish herself. So rude. Honestly, a man's first concern in bed should be the pleasure of his partner. His own pleasure will follow quite well from that. Are you quite alright, Ms. Granger? You seem rather flushed."

"Just a bit overheated. It's rather hot in here."

"Quite cold, actually, but I'm always a bit cold, these days. I don't suppose I could impose upon you to cover me with a blanket."

She walked to the foot of the bed. His blanket was folded up between his outstretched legs. She picked it up and unfolded it. Images of riding him rose unbidden into her mind. She began to cover him, tucking the blanket tightly around him. Each touch heightened her arousal. He was shivering, and as she reached his groin, she noticed the bulge in his jumpsuit.

"So, did you want me to cover you because you're cold, or because you wanted me to touch you?"

"Both. It's been four years since I've been touched by a beautiful woman. Can you blame me for seizing what will likely be my last chance?"

"Your sentence isn't for life, Lucius. You'll get out of here eventually."

"Yes, in a box. I have no illusions about my likely lifespan, Ms. Granger. It takes me longer to recover from each beating than it did the last, and I get sicker every winter and take longer to recover. Sooner or later, I simply won't recover. I will not last my sentence. The tortures of the Dark Lord, the chill of this place, the guards' casual cruelties, they have taken too much of a toll on my body. And I doubt anyone except Severus will notice or care."

"You don't think your son will care."

"Draco may come to forgive me for my youthful foolishness in time, but I will likely be long in the ground before that happens. Now, Ms. Granger, you might wish to move. It is rather cruel of you to continue to hover where you are."

Hermione's blush deepened as she realized that her face was inches above his groin. She quickly moved away.

"Sorry."

"Your innocence is sweet, and rather refreshing. Thank you for the blanket."

She kept the rest of their talk on inconsequential things, telling him what was going on outside Azkaban, even the latest Quidditch scores. Anything to keep her mind off sex. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally away from the prison. But she could not get his voice out of her head, and at night, she dreamed of that body stretched out over hers, and those hands caressing her as she orgasmed again and again. After three days she couldn't take any more. She went back to the prison, this time to see Snape.

"You're back."

"I want answers."

"That depends on the questions."

"From what I've seen, I'd give him three years to live in here. Could be much longer on the outside with a good Healer, no beatings, a warm bed, and regular visits to St. Mungo's. But three years in here. And I'm being generous."

"Should I help him?"

"We're all going to Hell, Miss Granger. Lucius Malfoy will assure, that, if nothing else, you have a VERY pleasant ride."

"He's using me, isn't he?"

"And you're using me, and Weasley's using you. That is the nature of a relationship. The key is to make it mutually profitable."

"You're a cynical bastard, Snape."

"Your point, Miss Granger?"

"The Ministry will make me responsible for him, you know."

"Lucius is not a stupid man. He's not going to end up here again. Now if that is all?"

"Is he as good as he says he is?"

Snape smiled.

"Narcissa's a notoriously jealous woman. And yet she never complained about me. That should tell you all you need to know about how good he is."

"I don't know what to do."

"Now, he is using you to get out of here. You know that. And you are considering using him to satisfy that ache between your legs that Ronald Weasley may awaken but can never come close to sating. He knows, or at least suspects that. Each of you has something the other wants. And he knows he cannot afford to discard you once you've given you his freedom. You provide him with something else he wants. Respectability. So the question is this, do you want to fuck Lucius Malfoy badly enough to give up Ronald Weasley?"

"I don't know."

"Figure that one out, and you have your answer."

It was two months before Hermione returned to Azkaban. Ron had been home for a month and she was ready to scream from frustration. Every night, he had finished and fallen asleep, and every night she had thought of how different Lucius would be. She'd had a screaming fit with Ron a week earlier and told him to get out. He had no care for her needs, only his own. If she was going to have that, she at least wanted honesty about it. He'd tried to apologize, and she'd slammed the door in his face. He didn't even understand her. He had this idealized picture in his head, he didn't see her. Harry had tried to play peacemaker, and she'd screamed at him too. She'd made up her mind, and either they accepted it, or not.

This time the guards had chained him to a chair. His face was bruised, and he had a black eye. He looked surprisingly vulnerable.

"You're back. I thought you wouldn't be coming back."

"I wasn't sure I would be."

"So what do you want to know this time?"

"If I get you out of here, will you bind yourself to me? Marry me?"

"Is that what you want, Ms. Granger? I thought you were engaged."

"Marriage is a binding contract between two people. Maybe it shouldn't be about love. Maybe it should just be business. At least that's honest. I can get you out, make you respectable again. And you can make me scream in pleasure every night. We both have something the other wants. And there are other things. I won't look the other way on the Snape issue, like Narcissa did, but I will join in. And I did some research. Narcissa had several children. Only one lived. You want more? My mother had her tubes tied after me, but my aunt had six. My mother was one of five. I've got good genes for childbearing, and I'd like to have more than one child. Though if you try to tell them purebloods are superior, I'll knock you over the head. If you want to tell them smart people are superior, on the other hand, I'll agree with you. What do you say, Lucius?"

He had raised an eyebrow at the beginning of her speech, and it had stayed up throughout.

"You and me. Married. Me, married to a muggleborn. A thousand years of Malfoys will be spinning in their graves. Draco will have a heart attack."

He smirked.

"It's a brave new world, Ms. Granger, and I'll either adapt or die. I think I'll adapt. Get me out, and we can get married the same afternoon. I would prefer a honeymoon someplace warm, if you don't mind."

She leaned over and kissed him. He was good. Very good.

"Call me Hermione. And warm is good. Italy, maybe?"

He smiled.

"You know what they're all going to say, don't you? Lucius Malfoy has pulled the wool over that poor girl's eyes. That he's tricked her, is using her. They'll never believe we're happily using each other. You sure you were a Gryffindor?"

She laughed.

"Maybe I've come to see that Slytherins have a point. At least you're honest about what you are."

"We are?"

"Yes. Dumbledore lied and hid the truth and played the saint the entire time. Snape is a greasy sneaky git, and he's never pretended to be anything else. You're a politician, and anyone who doesn't know what that means and takes what you say at face value deserves everything they get."

Lucius started laughing.

"Can it be that the luster has finally rubbed off the Gryffindor gold?"

"Just shut up and kiss me again."

"Happy to oblige my dear. Happy to oblige."