wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2011-02-27 00:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, 2011, flitwick, hermione, lily, lucius, snape, umbridge |
Special delivery for venturous1 (x 3!!)
Title: Mediation
Author/Artist:
Recipient's LJ name: venturous1
Pairing(s): Lucius/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Lucius is not happy with his grandson's sorting. Hermione is the lucky Wizengamot official who gets to hear his complaints.
Word Count: 3700
Warnings/Content: Spanking.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
Author's/Artist's notes: venturous1, I hope you like this! I found all of your pairing choices so intriguing that I couldn't settle on just one. Special thanks to my beta for putting up with all my whining when my original idea proved way too complicated to finish in time.
She really ought to have known who sent the letter the second she opened it. He had been unbearable at the Wizengamot hearing the other day. Beautiful, and unbearable. She frowned, wondering where the former thought had come from, and shook her head to clear it. She'd grown used to Lucius Malfoy blustering about, flouting his family bloodlines and wealth as though he hadn't escaped Azkaban through only the narrowest of loopholes. As if he'd never been a desperate, cowering sycophant under Voldemort's command. She didn't understand how a man like that could afford to be so smug all the time. But this incident, the sorting of Scorpius Malfoy, had become an ordeal.
The letter, written in a classy, perfect script that Hermione recognized as the work of a Quick Quotes Quill, Elite Edition, was an infuriating and condescending piece of vitriol that she nearly incinerated before realizing that it wouldn't serve her purpose at all to erase the evidence of his impudence. Instead, she called for her assistant to pen a response. They would meet at the school a week from Thursday, and she would allow him to plead his case to her personally.
If Lucius Malfoy wanted a battle over Hogwarts, he would get one. If he thought he could bully Minerva McGonagall, the board of governors, and the Wizengamot into seeing that his grandson was the first student in the history of Hogwarts to be re-sorted, then he was going to find out exactly where the foolishness stopped. Hermione tapped the pointed toe of her boot smartly against the floor as she stewed.
The following week crawled by, and by the end of it, Hermione found herself obsessing over the upcoming meeting on an hourly basis. What, she wondered, was he hoping to accomplish by insisting that she meet with him in private to discuss his grandson? From what Rose had told her, Scorpius Malfoy was a perfectly lovely boy who showed no sign of being maladjusted or discontent. To hear Lucius tell it, however, the child was on the verge of a near breakdown at the mere sight of red and gold.
When he arrived at Hogwarts, Lucius delivered an abysmally long list of demands and conditions for this meeting, and Hermione complied with a growing level of irritation. The man was impossible. Finally, she found herself standing across from him, watching him take a seat as if he were the one presiding over this hearing.
"Well, Mr Malfoy," she said, standing primly in front of him, "you have everything you requested. The room has been warded for privacy and thoroughly swept for any devices of magical mischief. Now, shall we begin?"
"I should hope so," said Lucius. "As you well know, we are here to discussion the preposterous placement of my grandson. The Malfoys have had generations of Slytherins without blemish. The same can be said about the Greengrass family. Therefore, I find it simply unacceptable that Scorpius would be placed in any other house."
"But he was sorted into Gryffindor," she said.
"It is the responsibility of McGonagall and the board of governors to see that mistake remedied."
"Headmistress McGonagall," she corrected. "And Scorpius... doesn't wish to be a Gryffindor?"
"Of course not." She could feel him forcing each word through his teeth. They were lovely teeth.
Again, she wondered at the origin of that thought. She wasn't blind; she could appreciate Lucius Malfoy's looks and considerable poise while taking into account exactly what and who he was, but it troubled her that these thoughts kept cropping up at the most inopportune moments.
"Hmm. Did he tell the Hat? It's still rather new at this, you know."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, even the old Sorting Hat had difficulty at times without the proper input. Why, Harry told me himself that it tried to put him in Slytherin the first chance it got."
"Potter? In Slytherin? That's ridiculous."
"Clearly that's what Harry thought."
"We're not discussing Potter here today. We're discussing my grandson."
"Yes, Scorpius." Hermione smiled tightly. "And what you allege was his mis-sorting."
"This is not a baseless allegation as you seem to be implying. Tell me, Mrs Weasley, wasn't there a competent witch or wizard at the Wizengamot available to hear my case?"
"Your case, or Scorpius's? If I recall correctly, Mr Malfoy, you requested me personally. And for the record, it's Granger, not Weasley. I never changed my name."
"How very modern of you." One eyebrow rose in an elegant arch and she was immediately cross with herself for taking note of it.
"Indeed. And efficient. Now, answer my question. Are you here to plead your case, or Scorpius's?"
"I am here on behalf of my grandson." Lucius's voice rose, at the very end of his statement, just enough to make her feel smug.
One corner of her mouth curled up in unconscious imitation of him. "I see. And are you his legal guardian?"
"You know very well that I am not. He is legally in the care of his very capable parents, my son Draco and his wife Astoria."
"And the reason they are not here on his behalf?"
Lucius cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Call it a misplaced sense of social equity."
Hermione's smile flashed genuine amusement then. "I see. So Draco has finally moved beyond house rivalry?"
"As you are so fond of pointing out, we are here to discuss Scorpius. Not Draco."
"Hmm. Yes. Well, I think I've come to a decision."
"You certainly have not," said Lucius, his indignation thick on the air. "I haven't been able to address a single relevant point."
"Oh, but you don't need to," said Hermione. "I spoke with Scorpius this afternoon and he is perfectly happy to stay in Gryffindor."
Lucius was on his feet, looming--or, at least, trying to loom--over her. "How dare you? Who gave you permission to speak with the boy?"
"I need permission to speak with a school mate of my daughter?" said Hermione. "That's rather ridiculous, isn't it?"
"Your... daughter." Lucius pressed his lips together, leaning over her at such a dramatic angle that she felt the impracticable urge to reach out and pull the cane from his hand just to watch him topple forward.
"Yes. My daughter resides in Gryffindor as well."
"I suppose you find this all very amusing, don't you, Miss Granger?"
"Not at all," said Hermione. "In fact, I find it to be a colossal waste of my professional and personal time."
Lucius scoffed. "Professional? This is the least professional encounter I have ever had with a Ministry official and I'll have you know that I have spent an undue amount of time in the presence of that bumbling idiot Arthur Weasley."
"Don't you dare speak about Arthur Weasley that way," Hermione snarled. "You are not fit to polish his broom, let alone deride him in such a manner."
It was Lucius's turn to smirk in self-satisfaction. "Have I struck a nerve, then? You Weasleys do tend to rally 'round one of your own, don't you?"
"For your information, I am technically no longer a member of the Weasley family, however, I think you will find that my loyalty is as strong as ever."
Lucius was silent for a moment, a long, uncomfortable, scrutinizing moment. She found herself breathing hard, resentful of her lungs for the betrayal. Her marriage had faded over time into an amicable parting, and though she found it neither painful nor depressing to think about the split, she had no intention of letting Lucius Malfoy delve into her failed romantic endeavors.
And then he spoke again.
"Which one of you finally came to your senses?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed to poisonous slits. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that you are the most unbearable witch whose path I have ever had the misfortune of crossing--and I'll have you note that I have spent a significant amount of time in the company of Death Eaters--and that young Mr Weasley, whichever one of that litter you found yourself married to, was clearly out of his league."
She blinked. Then blinked again. Then once more just to be sure she wasn't going to suddenly wake from a very bizarre dream. Had he just smuggled a kind word into the conversation beneath that flurry of insults? Her caustic tongue found itself in a rare moment of stillness, and she raised her chin.
"If you think that one cloaked compliment is going to convince me to change my mind--"
"I'm no fool, Miss Granger," said Lucius. "If I choose to resort to... alternative methods in order to achieve my goal, I guarantee you will not be in a position to give me any cheek about it."
"Is that a threat, Mr Malfoy?"
"No," said Lucius, and his cane echoed through the empty classroom as he stretched it a step ahead of himself before taking two very deliberate steps forward. "But perhaps it is something of a proposition."
Hermione laughed, though the sound was more hollow than she would have liked. "What exactly are you proposing?" she asked.
"Miss Granger," his voice was melted sugar, "you've been married to a Weasley for all these years. Surely you're due for some... satisfaction."
She cleared her throat, pressing her thighs together as she took a short step back. "That is terribly presumptuous of you. As well as erroneous."
"Really?" He continued to advance. "You're looking flushed, my dear. I wonder why that is."
The backs of her legs butted up against a table as she tried to retreat further. "I was under the impression you were a married man."
"It appears you are not the only one to experience a recent separation," he said. He lifted the cane in his hand, reaching forward to brush her hair back from her shoulder with the handle.
"Lucky me," Hermione said, with another hollow laugh. She licked her lips. "Let me make sure I understand our terms. You are proposing sexual favors for another chance at pleading your case."
"Perhaps," he said, and his breath was warm on her forehead now, the wild curls that framed her face trembling against her skin. "Then again, perhaps I won't be the one pleading."
She smiled, the corners of her mouth turning up hesitantly.
"Oh, Mr Malfoy," she whispered, pressing the palm of her hand to his chest and sliding it up to his shoulder. "I don't think that is going to be the case at all."
Her hand shot out like a snake, capturing a fistful of his hair and twisting it brutally as she forced him to his knees. Though she was a great deal smaller than he, she understood the concept of leverage, and how just a little bit of pain and pressure, when applied correctly, could influence a much larger human being. Her other hand had already drawn her wand, and she held it to his throat, her grin turning wicked as she watched him.
"What were you saying about someone being out of his league?" she asked innocently.
"Unhand me immediately," Lucius hissed. "When your superiors hear about this--"
"Shh," Hermione murmured. "I wasn't finished talking." She raised on foot to rest the sole of her boot on his thigh, the toe pressing against his crotch. "But don't worry," she said. "I have every intention of letting you share in that long overdue satisfaction you were speaking of. Why Mr Malfoy, you're looking flushed. I wonder why that is."
The rush of power pulsed through her like a drug.
~@~@~@~
"I think I like you on your knees," she said. "It's very becoming."
He looked her in the eyes without raising his chin, defiant and proud and perfect there on the floor in front of her. In a room warded against intruders and noise. She smiled and drew her wand.
"Still, something must be done about your clothes." She flicked her wrist and the problem of his clothes disappeared. Lucius shivered. It was lovely.
Slowly, so slowly that it almost didn't seem to be happening at all, one corner of his mouth quirked up. Her gaze drifted down his chest, past his abdomen, past the jut of his hipbones, to his swelling cock, his erection coming to life much more quickly than she would have expected for a man his age.
"You're enjoying this," she said.
He started to rise. "It was, after all, my suggestion."
Hermione's foot darted out again and she jammed the toe of her boot into the crux of his hip joint, forcing him back to the floor.
"No one told you to stand," she said.
He cleared his throat haughtily. "What exactly do you intend to do with me, Miss Granger."
"I believe you can call me 'Hermione' if there's nudity involved, Lucius."
"Yes, well, the nudity seems rather one-sided at the moment, doesn't it?"
"Allow me to fix that," she said, and then she did. The room was draftier than she'd expected. She wondered if she should have kept the boots.
She sidestepped away from him so that he was facing the table directly.
"Put your hands on the table," she said, "palms down."
He leaned his cane against the table, then complied.
She circled him, leaned forward, and reached around to gently touch one fingertip to his chin and drag it back along his jawline. Again, it was perfect. She couldn't tell if that infuriated her, or just made her more eager to touch him. She straightened suddenly, pulled back her hand, then planted a firm smack on his bum.
"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.
"Some men would call that foreplay."
"Some men have no dignity."
She swatted him again, harder this time, and her red hand print blossomed across his arse.
"But not you, Lucius. You're just brimming with dignity. You would never do anything untoward or scandalous. And certainly nothing like trying to bribe a Ministry official with sex in a Hogwarts classroom."
The muscles in his buttocks flexed and he made a soft whining sound.
"If you like," she added generously, "you may touch yourself."
"I hardly need your permission for that, Hermione."
"You called me 'Hermione'. I feel like our relationship is progressing."
The breath between each word was ragged when he spoke and from behind him, she watched his shoulders move as he worked over his erection. Warm sparks pooled low in her abdomen and she reached out to twist a lock of his hair in her fingers, then tug upward.
"Bend over the table," she said.
She watched a tremor run down his spine, and the low, throaty sound of indignation he made was belied by the way he rose from his knees and bent obediently over the table. She pressed her lips together, let him wait for a moment, then drew her wand. One murmured spell and the tip of her wand grew and spread into a wide, smooth paddle.
Lucius groaned. She gently nudged his feet apart with her toes. She could just see the hint of his knuckles beneath his balls every time his fist reached the base of his cock, and she bit down hard on her bottom lip. He shifted over the table and she brought the paddle down, landing it with a satisfying crack against his arse. Lucius gasped. She pressed the flat of the paddle against his cheeks and stroked the reddened skin.
Then another swat. He lurched forward in surprise. She salivated.
"Hermione." His voice was rough, pleading. She'd heard that tone before, so many years ago, the undercurrent of desperation that he just couldn't swallow down.
"Yes, Lucius?" She licked her lips.
"You wouldn't dare make me beg."
"Beg for what?" The corner of her mouth twitched. She struck him again, a solid, heavy thwack that echoed in the classroom.
"Hermione!"
"Yes?"
He made a sound, almost too much like a cough to be a word at all, and she sniffed.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Please." He said the word as if the taste of it were foul.
"Please," she murmured, slapping the paddle against the palm of her hand. She was wet now, so wet she could feel it on the insides of her thighs, and deep in her pelvis everything was thrumming, strung tightly with need. "Does that mean you're ready to withdraw your complaints?"
"No."
"No?" She arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Then what are you begging me for, Lucius?"
"I don't beg."
"Oh, but I distinctly heard the word 'please'."
He drew a long breath through his nose, the rocking motion of his shoulder slowing as he stroked his cock more deliberately. "You are every bit the unbearable annoyance that my son described."
Once again the paddle clapped against his skin, eliciting a whimper. She shivered.
"I was begging," he began, his voice low and reedy; she could hear him scrambling to collect his dignity. "For you to get on with it already."
"Get on with... what, exactly?"
"Oh, by Merlin's beard, woman!" Lucius hissed. "If you make me wait any longer I'm bound to come all over my own hand!"
"Your proposition gets more romantic all the time," she said, but then she whispered the spell that returned her wand to its original state and set it on the desk beside her. His desperation made her just as hot as the blossoms of crimson decorating his pale arse. "Very well. Sit on the table."
His head jerked back and he looked at her over his shoulder, but instead of shock or defiance, his eyes flashed with conspiratorial anticipation. He liked this. She should have known.
"Up," she said impatiently. "Now."
Lucius complied, wincing as he rested his weight on his sore arse cheeks, and again when she climbed astride him. She pushed back the blond hair spilling over his shoulders to brace her hands on him, thumbs pressed against his collarbone, and a soft gasp was drawn through her lips as she rocked her hips forward, sliding wetly against his cock. She wouldn't be able to tease for long. Lucius braced one hand on the table behind him, the other resting warmly on the small of her back, urging her up, though it only encouraged her to move with less haste.
As she finally rose to just the right position, hovering above his impossibly hard erection, he rasped one more, "Please."
"Oh, darling, of course," she said haughtily, the swell of dominance peaking inside her as she slid, with measured pause, down the length of him.
"Does this hurt you, Lucius?" she asked, though she could muster no cruelty to her voice, not with his cock so deep inside her, the angle of his hips driving him into her just right. "That just makes you harder, doesn't it?"
"It appears," he grunted, his eyes narrowing, "that we find some things... mutually beneficial." He punctuated the statement with a gasp.
She opened her mouth to reply, but her wit seemed to have joined all of the blood in her body, rushing straight to her pelvis, and she drew her nails down his shoulders instead, riding him as if she expected to drive him straight through the table. He jerked forward, his mouth suddenly on her throat, hot breath and wet tongue and his lips sucking gently on the soft skin at the juncture of her shoulder and she came apart. With a cry, she grabbed his hair, pulling roughly, her body tight and trembling around him as all that delicious build up crested inside her.
When she opened her eyes, still rocking over him, breathless and momentarily spent, she met his eyes and saw the flicker of triumph there. He had finally got a reaction out of her. Oh, let him have it, chided her conscious. He bloody well deserves it after that. And it was right.
She bit down on her lip, the sound of their bodies clapping together again and again growing faster, more intense, until he was shaking with anticipation. His moment was over, she decided, and she leaned close to his ear, her breath ruffling through his hair as she whispered hoarsely to him, "Are you going to come for me, Lucius?"
And he did. Oh, Merlin, how he did. His fingers left dark imprints on her hips, and the sounds he made echoed off the high stone walls. Hermione wriggled on his lap in satisfaction, half-considering the outrageous urge to snuggle her head against the curve of his neck for a moment as the both came down. Instead, she slid from his lap, her body silently protesting as she pulled off his cock.
Her wand had not landed far from where she stood, and she felt some vague sense of modesty as she bent to retrieve it, knowing that his eyes were on her now. With a rather complex charm, she was dressed and set to rights again, and that was when she turned around to find Lucius in a similar state.
"So was your audience with a Wizengamot member all you had hoped it would be?" she asked.
"Indeed," he said, rising to his feet. "In fact, I may consider filing another complaint on behalf of my grandson. What this school deems an appropriate diet for children is ghastly."
She examined his face for a moment, thought over the veiled offer he presented. Then she smiled.
"Please be sure to file your grievance with my office directly, Mr Malfoy," she said as she started to leave. "I would hate for you to waste the time of some other Ministry official."
"Of course," he said, making no move to exit as he watched her walk to the door.
"And by the way," she said airily, glancing at him over her shoulder, "in case you regain enough presence of mind to be concerned about it, I am on the potion. After all, I would hate to see you in distress over the prospect of another offspring in Gryffindor."
With that thought, she left him alone in the classroom.