wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2011-02-07 00:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, 2011, hermione, lucius, ron |
Special delivery for rivertempest
Title: Proper Motivation
Author:
Recipient's LJ Name: rivertempest
Pairing(s): Ron/Hermione, Lucius/Hermione and tiny mentions of Severus/Remus in the background
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hermione never thought that a few words over drinks at a Ministry function could lead to so much more; but then, she never thought that Lucius Malfoy would take such an interest in an already married witch, either.
Word Count: 7,436
Warnings: Slight angst, adultery
Disclaimer: I do not own any locations, characters, events, etc. that are part of wonderful Harry Potter universe; that honour is JKR's, and no profit is made from my borrowing them for this fic. The quote “How can any woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as though she were a perfectly normal human being” is a slightly modified quote by Oscar Wilde. The quote “There's poison in everything... It's only the dose that makes a thing not a poison” is a slightly modified quote by Paracelsus. The French dishes are based off those from a menu of the restaurant La Bergerie, in Alexandria, Virginia, USA.
Author's Notes: Well, I tried to incorporate as much as I could from rivertempest's prompt suggestions and all – I hope you like the road my Muse ran down with it! Many thanks to my lovely beta, who put so much time into this fic with me as both beta and cheerleader, and to the mods of the comm who set up such a wonderful exchange!
The crystal tumbler made a soft thunk-ing sound as Hermione placed it on the polished wood of the bar. Giving a nod to the wizard serving the drinks, she pushed the glass towards him and watched as he tilted a bottle of Ogden's Best over the rim. Dark amber liquid swirled around the two large chunks of ice inside, which hadn't even begun to melt with how quickly she had tossed back the first drink. “Wait,” she muttered as the man straightened the bottle and turned to move away.
Wrapping her fingers around the side of the tumbler, Hermione tipped it back swiftly. The ice pressed coolly against her lips as the Firewhisky passed between them, burning pleasantly in her throat. As quickly as she had plucked it up, she returned the glass to the bar top with another curt nod to the bartender.
“You might as well just leave the bottle,” a familiar voice drawled. Glancing over, Hermione saw Lucius Malfoy taking a seat on the stool beside her own, watching her with amusement glinting in his grey eyes. “Good evening, Mrs. Weasley,” he greeted, taking the bottle of Ogden's as soon as the bartender placed it in front of them, tilting it over Hermione's glass and filling it for her before adding more to the glass he had brought with him to the bar.
“Rather formal tonight, aren't you, Lucius?” Hermione said, lifting her glass and tilting it to her lips only enough to take a small sip. Something about having the blond man joining her made her suddenly more conscious of the rate at which she was consuming the alcohol. The older wizard's low chuckle brought a faint smile to her lips for the first time that evening, and Hermione glanced at him again from the corner of her eye.
“I assumed your husband would not approve of us being on a first name basis.”
“My husband,” Hermione muttered sourly, all traces of her smile fading to be replaced by a scowl aimed at her tumbler of Firewhisky. “As you can see, Ronald is not here at the moment. And if he were,” she added, forcing herself not to toss back the entire contents of her glass as she took another sip, “he would not have a say in whether or not you call me by my given name.” From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Lucius's mouth twitch as he suppressed a smile.
“I suppose he is the reason you're attempting to toss back glassfuls of Ogden's as though it's the antidote to a poison?” Lucius asked, topping up Hermione's glass from the bottle despite it only being half-empty now.
Hermione looked at Lucius, who was smirking at her, and chuckled quietly as she nodded her head. “Yes, actually,” she said, swirling her tumbler in her hand and watching the Firewhisky wash over the cubes of ice a few times.
“I wouldn't have brought it up if I wasn't inclined to lend an ear, you know,” Lucius said after a moment of silence stretched between them. Lifting his glass from the bar top for the first time since he sat down, the blond man tipped back a quarter of its contents quietly, watching the witch beside him from the corner of his eye.
“Honestly, I wouldn't know where to begin,” she said, furrowing her brow in the direction of her drink, as though it might provide the answer. “It's all going rather downhill, I suppose; not that he's noticed it.” Sighing, Hermione pressed the rim of her glass to her lips and drained it quickly before grimacing. The ice had begun to melt as the drink sat, and the burning taste of the Firewhisky had become diluted and unpleasant as it washed over her tongue. “It's as though I've gone back to being a close friend to him these days.” Her tone had grown slightly bitter, and without another thought, Hermione tossed back the last of her drink and returned the tumbler to the bar top with a bit more force than she had intended.
From the corner of her eye, she caught the bartender's scowl at her rough treatment of the glassware, and Lucius waved him away when he tried to approach them. “That sounds remarkably depressing” he stated bluntly, although his tone still held a note of sympathy as he withdrew his wand from his cane to wave it briefly over her glass. The ice inside grew opalescent again, and once he returned his wand to its proper holding place, Lucius poured two fingers of Firewhisky into the tumbler for her. “How can any woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as though she were a perfectly normal human being?”
Hermione raised one eyebrow as she looked at Lucius, unable to stop the corner of her mouth from twitching slightly. “Have you been reading Muggle books again, Lucius?”
“Perhaps,” the older man said, lifting his own drink to his lips and taking a sip. “That Wilde fellow has a point, though, doesn't he?” Lucius placed his tumbler back onto the bar top as he turned towards her, grey eyes meeting her own brown ones with a vaguely familiar expression. It wasn't a way that Ron had ever looked at her, but after another moment, Hermione remembered seeing it in the way Remus watched Snape during holidays at Grimmauld Place.
“Yes,” she finally muttered, turning her focus back to the Firewhisky in front of her as a faint blush rose in her cheeks, “he certainly does.”
Before either of them had the opportunity to speak again, Ron appeared at Hermione's shoulder. “Can we leave now?” he asked, leaning slightly against the bar beside his wife with an empty glass still clutched in one hand. “I don't feel well.” From the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed the faint green tint to Ron's skin and recognized the expression on his face as the one he usually wore after too much drinking, just moments before he would go running to their bathroom.
“Of course,” Hermione sighed, giving Lucius an apologetic smile. His own expression seemed suddenly guarded as he nodded in understanding, lifting his tumbler to his lips and tossing back its entire contents at once. “Good night, Lucius,” she tried, glancing at him somewhat nervously from the corner of her eye as she slid from her stool.
“Good night, Hermione.”