A/N: I didn't want to post this with my usual work. Its nothing like what I normally write, since its much darker in nature and if I go on, it will get very...porny. Is that a word? Anyway, I hope you all like it.

This is not being beta'd since I'm not sure how my beta would react to reading this from me. Especially if it ends up as dirty as I think it might in the end if I continue on and write more one-shots to it.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that pertains to Harry Potter. I only write this stuff for fun, for free, and to let my perviness have an outlet.

The Serpent and the Mudblood

Part One:

After the final battle, many of the surviving Death Eaters escaped. The shouts of victory, even with all those that got away, was still deafening and heard for miles once Voldemort fell. Those that hadn't escaped were transported to the Ministry and after their trial, sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban.

Of course, a few of the more wealthy ones were able to buy their freedom. But that was not always the case. Which explained why one Death Eater, who happened to be very rich, didn't allow himself to be captured after he had escaped the final battle. There wasn't any guarantee he would not end up back in the prison that still haunted his memories.

Over six years passed. Six years in which many of the escapees were caught. But a there were still a few that hadn't been. One long blond haired aristocrat was one of them.

He had been able to take enough money to hold him over during his flight from the Ministry. While it wasn't anything compared to his millions in a vault at Gringotts, money the Ministry couldn't seize until after his trial and sentencing, he still had a pretty sum of money at his disposal.

Glad that his father had taught him to never put all his eggs in one basket. To always keep some of those eggs in a safe place, in case it was ever needed hastily.

Lucius had taken that advice and expounded on it. Placing hefty sums in both wizard and muggle currency in many locations. Most of which were in locations no one would ever think to look for him, should he ever need to retrieve it. Who would believe that man who hated muggles as much as he did, would entrust the safety of his money to them.

Of course the muggles were unaware of it. Special untraceable spells had been placed to keep them from digging too deeply in certain places of their own back yards. Literally, since it was buried.

But after the first year had passed and still many Death Eaters were on the loose, the Ministry became desperate. They spent the next several months going to certain surviving Order members, and asking for help. Those that agreed had been instructed to do whatever was necessary to find the remaining Death Eaters on the loose.

Immersing themselves in research and any available background knowledge to be able to find them. Each member chosen, was to study and help find one specific Death Eater, so as not to miss any pertinent piece of information that could help lead to the capture.

Harry hadn't wanted any part of it, having defeated Voldemort. Ron didn't want any part of it due to wanting to just settle down and live a normal life. But Hermione had volunteered to help.

Ron had been livid. They were suppose to marry and start a family. But Hermione had told him patiently that she couldn't turn her back on what was needed for the good of the wizarding world. She couldn't just ignore the remaining madmen that could come back at any time and hurt any one of them.

Ron had broken up with her over it. Hermione had been hurt, they'd been together ever since the war ended. But, she was slightly relieved as well. She hadn't wanted to marry Ron anyway. But it was expected and she hadn't known how to break it to one of her best friends, and long-time boyfriend.

She had immediately gone to see Kingsley, the new Minister, to see how she could help. He gave her a list of all wanted Death Eaters that had escaped, and after careful deliberation, she'd chosen the one and only Lucius Malfoy.

It had been Lucius' home that she was tortured in. It had been Lucius' son that had tormented her for years. Lucius would be brought to justice. By her hand no less.

Only problem in her plan was, Ron did love her, even if he didn't understand that it wasn't the same kind of love needed for a real relationship. It was only a few a months into her research on the blond patriarch that Ron came back to see her, begging forgiveness for his harsh words. Asking if they could try again.

She loved Ron, but not as one would a husband. It was more brotherly than anything. Unfortunately, she couldn't get that notion to be understood by Ron. So without really meaning to, she had somehow given him hope that once Lucius was caught, they'd marry.

Hermione had tried several times over the years to get him to move on, but it hadn't done her any good. Ron was still waiting on her to catch Lucius so she would be free to be with him.

She had spent that time reading and rereading any and every scrap of information she get her hands on. Starting with Lucius himself, then moving on to Draco, who been killed during the final battle after switching sides, killed by Bellatrix herself. Then, she'd moved on to Narcissa, who'd been murdered by Voldemort for lying about Harry being alive still.

When Lucius' late son's and wife's information proved fruitless, she moved on to Lucius' father, Abraxas Malfoy. But when that hadn't given her much either, she focused solely on Lucius himself. Learning things about the man she never wanted to know. Which couldn't be helped considering how much she been forced to dig into his past for this assignment.

Sometimes sitting in his home from early morning until late at night looking through anything left behind to try to help her. For months she searched through his home for papers, or trinkets, or anything. Looking in every nook and cranny to find even a shred of something that might point her in his direction.

Staring at bank records, property deeds, school records, everything. All of which had many photos attached to them all during different intervals in his life.

Finally, she started bringing things home with her so she could try to piece it together. She'd begun tacking bits of information to her walls of her flat to help her sort out the data. Adding in photos next to each one so she it could help her focus.

It wasn't long before no matter where she turned in her flat, she found herself staring at his face or profile. The pictures, all wizards pictures, moved to show whatever he had been doing. Most were newspaper clippings, so it showed him at events where he was in dress robes or simply dressed in his his high quality slacks and vest, his dark outer robes looking impeccable, with his serpent cane in hand. But a few were family photos and showed him interacting with his family while dressed more casually, but still perfectly. Well, casually for him.

However, there was one picture that didn't do anything but watch her. It was a portrait of him that she'd found in his home, and after almost a year of it sitting there in her living room, just leaning against the bottom of a wall, she'd decided it was time to hang it up.

Only, it ended up in her bedroom room. That had been sheer coincidence too. She'd filled every other available space with little factoids about him. Her bedroom was the one place she hadn't put anything yet. Though the portrait was surrounded by more notes that she'd written up or little bits of information she'd procured here and there.

Just like the headmaster's portraits, it reacted to her, instead of just playing a scene out. It had startled her the first time it spoke to her, voice cold and cruel, but she had just stared at it curiously. It couldn't have been that old. It looked just as he had when she'd last seen him at the battle of the Department of Mysteries.

Through all of this, the more she read up on him, the more she became obsessed with him. She'd find herself just staring at the different pictures in her flat, as if hoping that if she looked long and hard enough, she'd figure out where he was hiding.

But his portrait was the one picture that drew her gaze the most. It didn't say much to her usually, though when it did speak, it was all very crude and insulting. It made sure to at least insult her once a day, but that was all it really said in the beginning. Eventually building to were they would get into a heated argument, until Hermione would have to cover him up and place a silencing spell on him. Though the arguments were not daily, like the insults were.

She would get back to her flat and if she went into her room, it might speak to her, or it might ignore her. It varied sometimes on when it would talk to her. Of course if it spoke, it only glared at her and called her a Mudblood, as if it was in some way, greeting her when she returned from wherever she'd been.

She would look back at him and with a similar glare, calling out her hello, ending it with calling him a bastard, or a bigot, or the one that really seemed to annoy him, a slimy unattractive prick.

A few times she called him a eunuch. Which only had the portrait pausing to ask for clarification. Was she calling him that because he lacked testicles? Was she insinuating that he never had sex? Or was she saying he was gutless and a coward? All of which could be used by definition by her calling him that.

Hermione would smirk and tell him to pick one or all three, it didn't matter since she believed them all about him anyway. The portrait would snarl and send out even more horrible insults at her.

She knew her obsession was taking a turn for the worse when she stopped taking her clothes with her into the loo when she bathed. Coming back out wrapped in a towel while he wasn't covered.

She'd make sure not to look at him once as she did so. Then, eyes still not on him. She'd remove her towel and get dressed for the day or night. Whichever it worked out to be.

He would of course insult her more. Making her smirk at some of the things he said. Saying her breasts were pathetically small. Her arse was too big or had unsightly dimples. He tended to go back and forth on whether her hips were too narrow or simply too wide. All in all, he never said a kind word about her.

But she kept doing it because, if he was insulting her, that meant he was looking. He didn't have to look, but chose to anyway. Even though all of his insults were untrue, she felt a spike in her confidence because of the fact that he was taking the time to look.

She had placed a full mirror in her room, and after a long soak in the bath, she would stand there looking over her naked figure. Trying to hide a smirk at hearing his new comments about her lacking in someway. But every now and then, she'd discretely glance in the direction of the portrait and see that while he was insulting her, his eyes didn't hold disgust at what he was seeing as they raked over her body again and again.

Which started the new thing she started doing about a year and half after she'd hung it, which only proved her obsession was getting worse. But she ignored the small voice trying to warn her.

She would purposely start an argument with him, let it get heated, then silence him without covering him. Then, she'd go about her day, still trying to figure anything out about him from her notes that she might have not connected in some way.

But after two weeks of her doing this, she did something that normally would had her covering him and silencing him before hand. The silencing spell keeping her from hearing him and him from hearing her. Only she didn't that day that she took it father than ever before.

She had provoked another argument that had her silencing him, though only so she didn't hear him. Then, in the evening after a long bath, she hadn't extinguished the light, only dimmed it.

Lying on the bed, she'd slowly started to touch herself, knowing he was watching. Pleasuring herself for what seemed like hours sometimes, getting off more and more as her mind focused on what his expression might look like as he watched her.

It had been so mindbogglingly good, she continued doing it. Sometimes going days without touching herself, sometimes it would be the very next night that she did it. Always with the one-way silencing spells, and always where his portrait could watch.

As time passed, she started noticing that he didn't insult her quite as bad as he used to. That his eyes would hold a touch more heat and lust as he looked her over after her showers in the morning.

Portrait Lucius wanted her. He wanted her very bad, if the heat in his eyes was anything to go by. The longer time passed with her doing all of this, the more heat that filled his eyes.

Which had her mind reeling when she came to the conclusion that Lucius in the portrait wanted her. The only problem was, in the midst of all this, she wanted him too. Only she knew it would never happen. Even if she came face to face with him, the real him would never want her.

But with her brilliant mind, she eventually figured it out. She had been staring at his Portrait, scanning the little tidbits here and there around it. Then, suddenly it just all connected. Like a bulb flaring to life in a dark room, it was just there illuminated in her mind.

She'd seen the portrait looking at her curiously as she stared at nothing. Her lips parted slightly and a thoughtful look in her eyes. Even going so far as to asking what the devil she was doing just standing there like that.

She hadn't even looked at him. Even when he'd demanded she acknowledge him speaking to her by looking at him. She'd only, moved quickly to her closet and pulled on fresh clothes as her mind reeled.

She knew where he was hiding and she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. The last place she ever thought to look for him was surrounded by muggles and nothing but muggles.

The tiny postcard that she'd found and had hanging up among the tidbits in her room. She'd dismissed it for what it showed on the glossy front, paying more attention to the name of who'd sent it. Trying to find anything that would give her more information on who it was. But she never even found a scrap of anything on the person's name.

With the knowledge of where he was, after six years of searching for him, she quickly was on her way to see Kingsley. Not even a look or word of goodbye said to his portrait. A habit that had developed when she went to leave after he'd started speaking to her.

She filled Kingsley in on what she knew and Aurors were dispatched immediately. She had no idea how easy or hard it might be to actually capture him. But, she'd stayed in Kingsley's office, part of her almost praying that she was wrong, until news was heard that he had been brought in.

They tried to get information out of him. Interrogating him for hours, and then days. But he didn't break. The time spent with him didn't do them any good. Especially, when they learned that he'd spent the last six years building up a tolerance to Veritaserum. Slowly ingesting more and more until he could fight the effects enough to not answer any questions put to him or to answer them dishonestly.

Kingsley knew he had to have information on the locations of the remaining Death Eaters. So out of options, they called in the only person who knew him well enough to know when he was truly lying or not.

Now Hermione made her way to the interrogation room where he was being held. Feeling nervous enough about facing him already, she asked if it was possible to have some privacy. She was afraid that if people watched, she wouldn't be able to focus properly and miss something vital.

Kingsley trusted her completely and since Lucius was bound to his seat, he didn't fear the man harming her. It wasn't like Lucius had been allowed his wand anyway. So he gave her the privacy she asked for, only asking that she give her report to him when she was done.

Head held high, her muggle note pad secure in her hand, Hermione opened the door. The sight that met her had her heart rate speeding up. He was even more gorgeous in person than in his portrait. His eyes while still cold, seemed more intense as he looked her over.

"Why if it isn't the little Mudblood Granger. I'd ask how you were doing, but honestly, I could care less." Lucius said in a bored voice.

He was seated in a single chair. Looking comfortable and relaxed. There were no cuffs, no chains. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew there was a magical field around him that kept him from stepping no more than a foot or two in any direction, she'd think he was sitting there of his own free will.

Hermione took her own seat in a chair several feet from him. "Hello, Lucius. Whether you care or not, I'm doing beautifully. Thank you for not asking. I hear you are being rather difficult."

His eyes raked over her, as a bored, yet haughty look covered his face. "Why would I be anything but difficult? I'm here against my will and...not even allowed legal council at this point."

Hermione smirked. "Considering why you're here, are you surprised that you're not allowed council yet? You'd undoubtedly only spew useless information while your legal representative worked against us to get you free."

Lucius' lips twitched. "At least you are intelligent enough to have figured that one out. It took your...associates...days to realize all that I had told them, begrudgingly it seemed, of course, was lies."

Hermione's head tilted. "A compliment? I'm shocked."

His lips stopped twitching in amusement and he frowned instead. "It was not intentional, I assure you, Mudblood."

Hermione's smirk grew, earning her a curious look from him. "Intentional or not, you still think I'm intelligent, which is a step up from what you used to think of me."

Lucius went back to looking bored. "Mudblood, I don't think of you at all. Which has made my last few years very pleasant. How have your years been since you've obviously been thinking of me?"

Hermione shrugged. "Interesting to say the least. Digging into all of your history and records does afford a person with all sorts of entertainment."

Lucius quirked a brow. "All my history and records. My, my, what has the little Mudblood learned, I wonder?"

Hermione looked a bit bored. "Well, you have an excellent head for business. Some of your investments before your flight, were rather ingenious."

He inclined his head with a small smirk. "Thank you." Sounding a bit proud.

Hermione went on. "I've learn about all your properties, even the ones you were hiding using an anagram of your name. That was brilliant, by the way, since it took me some time to find them."

His smirk grew, impressed so far with her. "Thank you, again." His pride showing more at his cleverness.

Hermione felt her lips twitch, but didn't smile. "Your trail of women was rather vast and they all spoke very highly of your...skills. Apparently, they are...legendary."

Lucius' smirk bloomed into a full smile. "My skills...hmm, what a lovely way of putting it. Thank you, once again." There was definitely no mistaking the full pride in his voice.

Which only made her next statement all the better for her. "I also learned that you shriek like a little girl when you come across a spider."

The smile on his face died, and instead his lip curled as his eyes sparked. "I do not shriek like a little girl when faced with a spider." His words properly enunciated in his annoyance and full of disdain.

Hermione grinned, enjoying taunting him. "That is not what I hear. I believe you also...what was it?" She looked to her notes, though she didn't need to. She knew all there was to know about this man.

She pretended to find what she was looking for, even if what she was about to say was untrue. "Oh yes, it was that you jump up and jump while shouting 'Kill it. Kill it', if I understood correctly."

His eyes darkened and his hatred was obvious. "That is a damn lie."

Hermione shrugged. "Its possible I misunderstood that last part, I was laughing so hard I may not have heard it correctly. Though I don't doubt your fear of spiders. Too many people said the same thing."

Lucius growled slightly, his hands clenching in anger. "I have never jumped up and down while shouting for someone to kill a bloody spider."

He really hadn't. It wasn't dignified. Nor did he shriek like a little girl, even if he was afraid of spiders. Though it seriously pissed him off that this little chit knew of his silly fear.

Hermione smirked. "Shall I conjure a spider to prove it?"

He only glared at her angrily.

Hermione shrugged again. "I personally don't care about the stupid spiders. Though the image of you doing such a thing is down right hilarious. Now, shall I go on about what else I've learned about you? I believe there is one about an interesting birthmark..." She trailed off purposefully.

Lucius sniffed derisively. "That isn't necessary, Mudblood." Part of him praying no one was listening to their conversation. It would ruin him if what she'd said got out.

Hermione smirked. "I thought not. I doubt you want to know exactly how much I know of all your nasty or embarrassing secrets."

Lucius cocked his head. "Shall I tell you what secrets I know of you, Mudblood?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I could care less. Now, we do have things to do, so why don't we get down to it."

Lucius smirked. "Oh, but I know so many things about you. Are you sure you don't want to know?"

Hermione gave him a bored look. "Positive. Now, do you know where the remaining Death Eaters are?"

Lucius continued to smirk. "You're right. We can come back to what I know of you later. No, I do not know where my fellow Death Eaters are."

Hermione watched him, looking for the signs she knew that showed if he was lying. Seeing it, she smirked. "Care to try that one again?"

Lucius shrugged. "Not really. What else have you got for me, Mudblood?"

Hermione was getting tired of him calling her that word and decided to fight back a little. "Well, you useless pile of flesh, I want to know if you've been helping your fellow Death Eaters with money, places to hide, or anything else of that nature."

Lucius nostrils flared at the insult, but otherwise, he didn't react. "Since I didn't know how long I'd be hiding myself, I surely wouldn't give away my means of survival."

Hermione studied him again. Hmm, he's telling the truth. "I've been curious about those mean of survival. You didn't touch your Gringotts account before you left, nor did you go to your home. So how have you had the funds to survive this long?"

Lucius smirked again. "Like I would tell you, Mudblood."

Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly. "Look, you filthy bigot, I am your only shot at not getting a Dementor's kiss. You can either talk to me, or..." She let him ponder that.

Lucius chuckled softly. "I may have been in hiding for the last six years in muggleville, but even I know they are not letting the Dementors near the prison. There is no more kissing of the inmates."

Damn. She thought. She'd hoped the bluff might work. "Fine. So...we both know there are no Dementors, but...there is still a nice life sentence in Azakaban awaiting you. If you talk to me...I might try to get that reduced for you."

His brow rose. "And why would you do that, Mudblood?"

Hermione shrugged. "Why not? If you helped us catch the remaining Death Eaters, maybe you don't have spend your remaining days in a filthy cell. You could spend it...living as a recluse in your home. Away from the public that hates you and fears you, safe from them, as they are safe from you."

Lucius tilted his head again. "You still didn't answer why you would do that, Mudblood."

Hermione shrugged again. "I could care less where you spend your days, as long as it is far away from me."

Lucius gave her a full and charming smile. It had her heart thumping again in her chest. "Now, now, Hermione. That isn't any way to speak to someone like me."

Her lip curled at him using her name, even if her heart did speed up just a touch more. "How else would I speak to a slimy unattractive prick like you?"

She expected his smile to die out, but it didn't, it became even bigger. Making her frown slightly.

"Unattractive? Ouch. Do you find me unattractive, Hermione?" Lucius asked, his voice calm and smooth.

Hermione would not rise to the bait. "I see that was the only word you didn't seem to like. Is it because the other two are true? Do you know that you're a slimy prick, after all?"

Again his smile grew just a little bit. "No, I'm commenting on that one, because out of all your insults, that is the only one I think thatyou disagree with."

Hermione frowned. "How do you figure that one?"

Lucius leaned back in his chair. "Well, you might think I'm a useless pile of flesh, you may even think I'm a slimy prick, you may even think I'm a eunuch, but unattractive? Oh no."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but paused as what he said hit her. I didn't call him a eunuch. "Eunuch? Interesting. Now that you mention it, I do think its quite possible that you are. I'll have to thank you for giving me a new insult to toss your way."

Lucius chuckled again. "You and I both know its not a new insult, my dear."

Hermione swallowed, trying to figure out how he might know that. Seeing her slight nervous confusion, Lucius smirked as he spoke. "I believe you've called me that a few times. I can assure you that, by definition, I have testicles, we both know I do have sex a lot and that I'm rather good at it, and...I'm not a coward."

Hermione raised her brow at him. "How would you know that I called you that or not?"

Lucius chuckled. "Same way I know you have a small mole on your back, just above your backside, Mudblood." His voice soft, but still silky. The hateful word almost sounded like an endearment too and it unnerved her.

Her mind was racing at his words though. How could he know that? "So, you've been researching me while I researched you? How interesting. I thought you didn't give me a single thought in last few years."

Lucius smirked again, amusement in his voice as he spoke. "I wasn't researching you anywhere near like you were researching me. I only went off of what I've seen."

Hermione's brow rose again. "Which would be what?"

Lucius chuckled again. "Many interesting things, my dear."

Hermione rolled her eyes. This is just another game, a game like he played on the others that tried to talk to him. "Whatever. If you have nothing of use to tell me, I'll be leaving you now. Enjoy your sentence and stay in Azkaban. I hear its quite...lovely this time of year."

Lucius waited until she was almost to the door before speaking again. "I do have one last thing to ask you, my dear."

Hermione sighed as she turned to face him. "What?"

Lucius' head tilted. His voice soft again, sounding just as silky as it always did when he was trying to be slick or charming. "I'm curious. Did you enjoy parading around naked for me to see?"

Hermione's face drained of color. "I've never done anything like that for you." She said indignantly.

Lucius was smirking again. "Hmm...maybe not intentionally. But you have. Would you like to know how and when?"

Hermione nodded dumbly. Lucius only smirked more and motioned for her to sit again. She sighed and did so. Wanting to know, but having a very bad feeling she wasn't going to like it.

Lucius let his eyes rake over her again before speaking. "I watched you going through different things in my home. You were very clever in what you did there. Searching in places that even I didn't think to hide things. You were very diligent in coming to my house on a regular basis. Most would have given up long before you did."

Hermione swallowed, but didn't say anything. Seeing that, Lucius went on. "I saw you sitting at my desk many days and it angered me greatly to see you doing it. Seeing you invading not only my privacy, but my son's and wife's. Not very nice, my dear." He tsked several times at her.

Hermione stayed silent still.

Lucius smirked. "But you also collected many things at my home. Then, you took them to your home and studied them. Placing many clippings and notes all over your walls so you didn't have to flip through newspapers or pages of parchment to get to whatever you wanted to read again. That was very clever of you, my dear. It kept everything neat and orderly so you didn't waste time digging. You even kept it all in order by pinning it up as one long time line. Very impressive."

Hermione barely blinked at him, waiting for him to go on. "But you didn't realize that you had taken something from my home that allowed me to see you in your home. It allowed me to watch you from where I was hiding. You left the item in question in your living room which allowed me to see into just about all of your flat. So I was able to watch you trying to figure it out. It was very entertaining."

Lucius sighed. "I took to watching you more since there wasn't much by way of entertainment where I was at. But you never gave up. You would eat as you stared at pictures and clippings of me. You would pace just looking all around at everything on your walls. You even talked to yourself at times. Did I mention I could hear things too with the object in question?" The silky note back in his voice.

Hermione swallowed again but he just kept talking. "You'd mumble to yourself as you studied me. Spending hours talking about me. Then, when you could barely keep your eyes open sometimes, you'd finally go off to bed. Only to start again the next day."

Hermione had a feeling she knew where exactly this was going, but Lucius spoke more. "Then, came the day that you noticed the object in question again. I was surprised when you hung it up. Especially where you did. I got a front row seat to see into the great Hermione Granger's bedroom. Figured it out yet, my dear?" Amusement lacing his voice once again.

She nodded, but he just went on. "It was rather interesting to see that the one obvious thing about that portrait, you never seemed to notice." He made a few tsking sounds again. "I was rather shocked. You're normally much more observant and normally smarter that that, my dear."

Hermione growled. "Stop calling me that."

Lucius' brow quirked. "Do you like Mudblood better? You did argue with me many times when I called you that in the portrait."

The color drained again in her face, and he grinned at her before speaking again. Though it was more hateful and antagonizing, than happy. However, he sounded just as calm and silky as he had the entire time. "Oh, yes, my dear. The one thing you never seemed to figure out. A portrait can't interact unless the person is dead."

Lucius' grin stayed in place as her color grew a little more pale at his words. "It was like a one-way mirror. You only saw the picture of me when I wanted you to though. I didn't always have to be standing right in front of you to talk to you. I would be sitting in a chair, book in hand at times, when I spoke to you. Though at times, it was my face you saw either way, but it was interesting when you didn't notice the difference. Not even when my clothes changed. True, the picture moved, was charmed to do so. But sometimes, it wasn't the picture gazing at you, it was really me."

He smirked as he went on. "All those...conversations...were with me personally, my dear. When you strode around naked, that was in front of me. When you pleasured yourself, that was for me to see too. You listened to all my comments about your person while standing in front of that mirror and yet, you only silenced me when you masturbated. Afraid I'd ruin it for you, otherwise?"

Hermione's breathing had sped up. Oh god, he actually saw that. Fuck!

Lucius chuckled again at seeing her stunned and slightly fearful look. "I was curious at first when you started to silence the portrait, but not cover it. I spent many hours pondering it, since you would just sit on your bed sometimes, reading over more notes. Then, that one night. Oh, I remember it clearly. To say I was shocked is an understatement. But...then it happened again and again. I could hear you too. Your spells were only one way those days. You couldn't hear me, but I could hear you perfectly."

Hermione's face turned beet red, making Lucius smirk again. She still couldn't speak, so he did. "I thought at first you didn't realize you hadn't covered my picture and or that you didn't do your spell right."

A hint of darkness tinged the silky quality of voice with his next words. Like moving to tasting dark chocolate, when you had already been eating milk chocolate. It had an added hint of...sinfulness to it. "Then, I realized you were doing it on purpose. You wanted me to see you writhing on your bed. Wanted me to see you stroking yourself as I heard your moans and cries of pleasure."

He leaned forward slightly. "So...no, my dear, I don't believe you found me unattractive at all. I think you did, what you did, because you find do find me very attractive and got off, even more, on me watching you. Even though you didn't realize it was really me."

Hermione swallowed at all of that. Her thoughts racing, and the only thing she could think of was that she needed to leave, to escape him and his words. She got up and headed for the door.

But his voice stopped her again when her hand touched the handle. His voice slightly curdled when he spoke. "One last thing, my dear."

She didn't turn to face him, she couldn't. So she didn't see his gaze raking over her body again from head to toe, with a touch of heat in his eyes that was at odds with his voice. "While you may have taken great pleasure in touching yourself while I watched, while you...dare I say, thought of me? Just remember one thing. You are not...worthy...of me, any part of me, pleasuring you. You are not worthy of even thinking of me, while pleasuring yourself. In fact, even if I did take you, like you seem to want me too, I doubt I'd receive even an ounce of pleasure from it. It would, undoubtedly, make me sick to be forced to do so. Do I make myself clear, Mudblood?" He hissed at her.

She felt something inside her clench painfully, but hid it as she turned to face him. A look of her disgust and disdain on her face, which masked the pain of his words "While you may not think I'm worthy. It matters not. You are, in no way, worthy of me either. I may have let you unknowingly watch, I may have even fantasized of you a few times. But I wouldnever,in this lifetime,...lower...myself into actually letting you touch me, letting you soil me. Do I make myself clear?"

She saw a tiny flicker in his eyes, it shocked her to see what she did, though she was able to hide it, barely. But she didn't stick around to listen to anymore that he might say to her. Instead, she turned the knob and calmly left the room.

But the flicker she'd seen in his eyes, had her pondering things as she made her way back to see Kingsley. What had she seen in his eyes exactly. Anger? Probably. Loathing? Absolutely. Respect? Oddly enough, she did think it was respect she'd seen flicker into his eyes after her words. He respects that I didn't back down from him after he said those awful things to me. Interesting.

She went into Kingsley's office. Gave him her report on what she'd learned about him and the Death Eaters. That he hadn't been helping them, but he did know where they were at. She left out any and all unneeded information. Which meant she didn't say a word about anything he'd said about her or what he'd seen.

Her job was done. He would go to Azkaban. That was the end of it.

Then, she cursed. Ron still thought he had a shot with her. With a sigh, she started thinking of what exactly she was going to say to him to make him finally understand where they stood.

A/N: I have been pondering a series of one shots on this story line. Let me know what you guys think.