A/N: This is a somewhat belated gift for LadyStiff, I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful new year!

As always, I own none of the Harry Potter universe, I just play in J.K.'s sandbox.


Hermione checked her reflection one last time, pulling at a curl that had been left to hang artfully over one ear and smoothing her short black dress before turning to face her friend with a reluctant smile.

Ginny Potter clapped her hands with a triumphant grin, declaring, "See! I told you that you would be stunning in that dress!"

"But-" Hermione started.

"But where's the point in putting forth an effort if only your lab flobberworms are ever going to see it." Ginny finished, rolling her eyes as she quoted the words she had heard from her friend so many times before. "If he wasn't such a git, I'd almost want to thank Lord Malfoy for forcing you to go to this thing."

Hermione sent a chiding glance in her friend's direction at her description of the man before turning back to the mirror and commenting, "It's the company Christmas party, Gin, of course I'm going."

"Hermione," Ginny said sceptically. "You came back early from your trip to Venezuela to be here. I'm fairly certain Lord Malfoy had something to do with that. And speaking of going, we'll be terribly late if we wait much longer." At that, Ginny let towed a still-protesting Hermione out the door.


A short time later, the two women arrived at the most elite hotel in Wizarding London, The Mills House, wobbling up the walk as their sharp heels skidded over the ice.

By the time they reached the door and the relative safety of the warm hall, the party appeared to be in full swing. Champagne was flowing free and the employees of Malfoy Enterprises were busily involved in their carousing.

Ginny immediately forged into the crowd, accepting a flute of champagne from some poor boy who was no doubt smitten by her appearance, her carefully curled red hair and long emerald gown nothing short of stunning. Then again, it was the general agreement around the company, from what she had heard, that the Deputy Head of Accounting, Ginny Potter, was nothing short of perfect.

Hermione envied her boldness, where Ginny immediately mingled, Hermione was more inclined to hold back, near to the wall as possible, and observe the world at large. She worked in the Research Lab for a reason after all, and it certainly wasn't for the wealth of social interaction.

Seeing that Ginny had become engrossed in lively conversation and not immediately spotting anyone she particular cared to chat with, Hermione quickly assumed her customary spot at this sort of event, near to the door and away from any large groups of tipsy co-workers.

Her gaze idly scanned the crowd, pausing when the occasion merited. She spotted Michael Corner and Susan Bones nestled quite cosily in a corner, Justin Finch-Fletchley had obviously had quite enough to drink already, he was hanging rather conspicuously off Gregory Goyle of all people, and then there, she spotted what she had unconsciously been searching for.

A quick flash of long, blond hair, and then it was gone. It could only have been Lord Lucius Malfoy, the sole reason she had even really bothered to make an appearance at the party. If not for him, she likely would have spent her evening curled in front of a fire with a well-worn copy of some book or another and been perfectly content. But the glint in his silver eyes had been unmistakable, dangerous even through the Floo call, when the man had informed that under no circumstances would the Head of Research and Development be allowed to miss out on this particular gathering. It would be deplorably rude, or so she had been informed.

And so she had allowed Ginny to clothe her in a dress that was much shorter, much tighter, and much blacker than anything she would have chosen, let her carefully apply the makeup that so delicately outlined her face and fix her unruly hair, and shown up at the party like a perfectly subservient minion of Malfoy Enterprises. But it would seem she wouldn't even be seeing the dratted man who had so lordfully demanded her presence despite those facts!

A displeased frown turning the corner of her mouth, Hermione reached for another glass of champagne and settled back to wait for the suitable hour before she could leave. Instead of brooding as she had intended however, she found her thoughts taking a different turn, back towards the head of Malfoy Enterprises.

As a child at Hogwarts, she never would have dreamt she would be employed by a Malfoy of all people. Even more surprising had been when she discovered that she could tolerate the man's presence, even grew to enjoy it. As if he had been conjured by her very thoughts, she suddenly spotted him again, magnificent in robes so blue they almost seemed black, conversing with Minister Shacklebolt. She watched him for quite some time, before glancing away to greet Neville Longbottom as he passed by.

When she finally turned her gaze back to the original object of her attention, she couldn't help but flush. Lord Malfoy was still absorbed in his conversation, but his gaze travelled past the Minister, over his shoulder to land on her. She offered him a challenging stare, but he simply quirked one eyebrow with the briefest of smiles before turning his attention back to the man facing him. Hermione watched as he bid the Minister farewell and headed for the door, an act that brought a scowl to her face. Why in Merlin's name should he be allowed to leave his own party when she was being forced to stay?

Her ire was appeased a moment later when the man stopped abruptly, a black look spreading over his countenance when he could go no further. Hermione figured out the reason before he did, she could see the exact moment he determined the cause of his predicament, glowering up at the seemingly innocuous sprig of mistletoe dangling above his head.

Hermione recognized the plant instantly, it was a Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes product, one she had actually had a bit of a hand in developing. Enchanted Mistletoe. Its function was much the same as that of garden variety mistletoe, with the one small adjustment that the witch or wizard who encountered it couldn't pass it until they had been kissed.

It was meant to be good fun at holiday parties such as this, but Lucius Malfoy did not look at all amused. It was understandable, to be honest, she couldn't imagine that any of his employees who formed the majority of the attendees would be daring enough to offer a kiss to one of the most powerful men in the world, Wizarding and Muggle alike.

She was practically captivated by the man, but even the thought of what his reaction would be should she kiss him so publicly was enough to give her chills, and so she put the thought of Lucius Malfoy waiting to be kissed out of her mind as best as she could and turned her attention elsewhere.


She had been chatting with a group of women for nearly half an hour when she glanced back over to where she had last seen the man she had spent the night studying. A small snort of laughter escaped her, drawing strange looks from Susan Longbottom and Angelina Weasley, but she neglected to explain.

The man still stood exactly where he had first been trapped, his expression thunderous and his wand clasped tightly in his hand. She immediately made a mental note to never mention her part in the novelty's development to him, and then quietly resolved that she would have to be the one to rescue him, as it didn't seem anyone else would.

"Excuse me, ladies," she murmured, and then began to thread her way through the crowd. Judging by the increasing levels of intoxication of everyone around her, she likely would be able to free to poor man without anyone else noticing a thing out of place.

She approached him from behind, and he whirled with angry words on his lips as she tapped his shoulder. "Lord Malfoy," she greeted in as cool a voice as she could muster. Then, before he could say a word in return, she reached up to frame his face with her small hands and rose on tiptoe to press a chaste, cool kiss against his lips.

The man tensed for a moment and then she felt him relax, one of his strong arms snaking about her waist and hauling her closer when she attempted to pull away. He deepened their kiss, catching her bottom lip between his teeth. Hermione let out a tiny moan, which seemed to be the catalyst to remind Malfoy of where he was, as he wrenched away not a moment later.

"Madam," he hissed, his iron eyes flashing in warning. "Remember yourself, if you please." She opened her mouth to explain, but he cut her off. "I will see you in my office first thing in the morning, Miss Granger." With that, and finally able to move again, he turned with a billow that would have made Snape proud and stalked from the room.

Hermione stared after him for a moment, disbelief written across her features, before turning back to the party. There, she discovered several pairs of eyes fixed upon her, all of which darted away as soon as they were noticed. Hermione sighed mentally; no doubt that particular decision would be the talk of the workplace come the next day.

Resigning herself to being unable to enjoy any part of the party without incessant questions, Hermione instead headed for the hall, her cloak, and home. She had nearly made it out the door when she hesitated. She couldn't honestly say she wanted to go home alone after the minor fiasco of this party, and all her bags from Venezuela were still piled in the Potters' living room.

With only a bit of reluctance, she re-entered the party to beg Ginny to allow her to spend the night. The redhead agreed without asking any questions, a fact for which Hermione would be eternally grateful, and the pair left a short time later.


Hermione dressed for work more slowly than normal the next morning. She couldn't explain why when Ginny asked, but it was imperative that she looked her best for her coming meeting with Lord Malfoy. She carefully pinned her hair back in an artful ponytail and donned her favourite green robes. Finally, she slipped on her least sensible pair of shoes, the same stiletto pumps she had worn to the party the night before, and stepped into the Floo.

She stumbled a bit upon landing, but fortunately she had arrived in the Atrium early enough to avoid all but the most diligent of employees and the janitor. She rode the elevator all the way to the top floor and then raised her chin with as much confidence as she could muster as she knocked on the door emblazoned with Lucius Malfoy, Lord of Wiltshire, O.o.M., C.E.O.

"Enter," a low, silky voice intoned. She pushed the door open and then waited hesitantly just inside the doorway, as Lord Malfoy seemed to be busily scribbling across a parchment. "Close the door, Miss Granger," he ordered without ever looking up.

Obeying, she turned back to face him expectantly, but he continued to ignore her, simply re-inking his quill and continuing to write. Finally, she cleared her throat and he paused, glancing up with one haughty brow raised.

He considered her for a moment and then casually demanded, "You didn't come home last night?"

Hermione's eyes flew up in surprise. Of all the things he could have said, that was the last point she had expected him to make. "You said you would see me this morning," she challenged, fire flashing in her eyes at the accusation in his.

He stood with a snarl, snapping, "You know that was not my intention."

"Well it certainly seemed as if you didn't want to see me last night!" she retorted, knowing even as she said it that it was untrue.

Something unidentifiable shone in his eyes as he rounded his desk and came to stand so near she could feel his breath whispering over her hair. "Did you honestly believe that to be the truth, Hermione?"

She flushed and averted her eyes from his steely gaze, admitting in a voice that was almost a whisper, "Not entirely."

He smirked and moved closer, crowding her against his desk. "Dare I assume then, witch, that you were off sulking after the party yesterday?"

She bristled, exclaiming, "You were awful to me! I know you don't want our relationship made public until you tell Draco, but he's out of the country until March, for Merlin's sake! I..." Her voice trailed off as the man in front of her raised that brow again and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"You made me worry, dearest," he admonished. Hermione's indignation faded somewhat at the genuine concern in his voice and she leaned into his embrace, her arms going around him in turn.

"I'm sorry, Lucius, that wasn't ever my intention," she replied.

His arms tightened around her in acceptance of her apology. "You're not out of trouble yet, Hermione," his low, silky voice sounded in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"No?" she asked breathlessly. Her month in Venezuela had seemed that much longer without hearing that voice.

"No," he affirmed. "On your knees, Hermione." Her eyes widened slightly in surprised anticipation and she knelt down on the plush Oriental carpet that covered much of the room.

He waited patiently until she had gone to her knees and folded her hands neatly in her lap before speaking again, his hand lightly stroking over her hair. "Now you may apologize properly, Hermione."

A small smile graced her lips as she looked up at her lover and began to tug his belt from its loops. She quickly undid the buttons of his trousers with the ease of long practice and slipped her hand inside to cup his hardening cock.

A quick puff of air left his lips and her smile grew more wicked as she tugged his trousers out of the way of her goal. That accomplished, she paused for a moment, admiring the sight before her. He was long and thick; platinum blond curls nestled neatly at the base.

She gave him a quick, teasing squeeze, smirking as he jerked ever so slightly. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the moisture that had gathered at the tip and Lucius let out a muffled groan. Without warning, she took his hard length into her mouth, swallowing him nearly to the base and sucking lightly.

"Circe, witch," he moaned, his hand fisting in her ponytail and tugging lightly. He allowed her head to bob on him a few more times before he took control as he was so wont to do, pulling her hair in direction. He pumped her mouth over his cock several times before pulling her away with a growl.

She looked up at him with a question in her eyes and he cursed at the singul picture she made before bringing her to her feet. "I need you, Hermione," he rasped before crushing his mouth to hers.

She pulled away just enough to whisper, her voice husky, "Then fuck me, Lucius."

In the next instant he had whirled and cleared his desk with a violent sweep of an arm, turning back and lifting her onto the cool wood surface. He quickly divested himself of his remaining clothing before turning his attention to hers.

Hermione had purposefully chosen a robe with as few buttons as possible, having lost a number of robes to the man's impatience in the past, and he was pushing the robe from her shoulders only a moment later. He just as quickly rid her of the slim black pencil skirt and ruffled white blouse, leaving her perched on the edge of his desk and glad only in the lacy purple bra and knickers she had chosen and her black pumps.

His gaze warmed in appreciation as he surveyed his new view before he continued towards his goal. He removed the bra with a practiced flick of his wrist and turned his attention to the pert, dusky rose nipples he had revealed.

He laid light kisses first over one breast and then the other before latching onto a nipple, worrying it until she was moaning and arching against him, her fingers tangled in his hair and holding him close. He laved first one and then the other, his hands roaming as he did and sliding beneath the delicate lace of her knickers.

The man smirked in triumph when his fingers found her soaking wet and rubbed a rough thumb over her beckoning nub, eliciting a shudder in response. "Lucius," the woman whimpered, her hands tugging and pulling at him. "Please."

He chuckled lightly and brushed a kiss across her lips. "Did you miss me, love?"

She scowled and swatted at his arm. "Don't be a git, Lucius."

He let out a loud burst of laughter at her cheek and the corner of her mouth quirked up in reply. She slipped her hand down his muscled torso and wrapped it around his cock, keeping her eyes locked with his. "Fuck me," she whispered once more, pressing his length against her entrance.

"As if I could resist that, witch," he muttered, pressing slowly into her. She gasped and arched at the sensations that filled her body, at the sense of fullness she had missed for so long. He began to fuck her in long, sure strokes, his body heavy against hers. Her nails sank into his back, urging him on and their pace increased.

Before long, Lucius's strokes grew erratic and Hermione's muscled tensed. Without warning, Hermione tipped over the edge, her climax hitting her with all the force of a freight train and Lucius was soon to follow, spurred by the tight clenching of her muscles. He collapsed atop of her, though taking care not to crush her, panting hard. "Merlin, I love you," he whispered in her ear, his voice harsh. "I'll tell Draco when he Floo calls at Christmas, I promise." The sweaty, tousled woman beneath him beamed up at his announcement, her arms tightening in a fierce hug about him. "Merry Christmas, Lucius."

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed, don't forget to drop me a line and review!