A/N: Hello all! This is a one-shot that was originally written for the Malfoy Manor fic war, with the prompt word of fireworks. So much thanks to my beta Rusty Weasley and the world's best cheerleader, TycheSong.

As always, I make no profit from this story and hold no claim to the Harry Potter universe.

I watched as whirls of color filled the floor, heard the laughter ringing in all directions.

Scorpius Malfoy peered around the corner for what might have been the hundredth time, keeping a close eye out for the target of his plan. Seeing no sign of the woman he loved, he checked his handiwork, ensuring that the rug was turned up just so and that the broom closet door was opened just enough. He ducked into the closet to wait and sighed as his mind began to wander. She had come out of nowhere, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And to think, he hadn't even wanted to take Ancient Runes. The only reason he did was that his father forbid him from taking Care of Magical Creatures. Something about an oaf and a rabid bird, but he had honestly tuned out halfway through the explanation.

If not for his father, he never would have met her, with her long, shiny curls, her big, beautiful brown eyes, and her bell-like laugh. He sighed again; reaching up to ruffle his hair so it fell just so, his father swore it would get him any girl. He knew, if he could just talk to her, she would understand. She had been paying him special attention all year, surely she liked him too? It wasn't like she was old or anything, she was his father's age and he still swore he was young.

I listened to the gallant speeches, the loud cheers. We celebrated a decade free of shadow.

He froze as he heard her voice, her beautiful, melodic voice coming from down the hall, reprimanding a student for dawdling. He held his breath as he heard her light, crisp footsteps on the flagstone, coming closer and closer. Then, he heard it. A stutter in her step, followed by a muffled curse and the sound of her body falling into the heavy oak door of the closet. He smirked triumphantly as she stumbled completely into the crowded broom closet and the door shut tight behind her, just as he had charmed it to do.

He stayed very still and listened to the petite woman mutter to herself, it sounded as if she were fussing with her robes, and then heard her cast a muttered Lumos. Light flared to life in the small closet and the woman turned to reach for the door handle. It was then that she caught sight of the tall, lean blonde boy leaning against the opposite wall and let out a rather undignified shriek, her hand flying to her chest. He straightened and put on his most charming grin, one he had seen his father use countless times since his divorce was finalized a few years earlier. "Professor Granger! I'm so glad you're here, I thought I was going to be stuck in here forever!"

Hermione stood in the dimly lit closet and just stared at the boy who was one of her favorite students for a moment, then slowly reached for the doorknob, a sneaking suspicion telling her it wouldn't open. As she usually was, she was correct. The handle turned a quarter turn and then stuck, refusing to turn far enough to open the door. She cursed inwardly and turned to face the other occupant of the closet, making sure to stay close to the opposite wall to keep space between them. She had formed a tentative friendship with Draco Malfoy over the past several years, but she couldn't imagine that would hold up well if she were to be caught in a compromising position with his son in a broom closet, whether she intended it or not. Not to mention she would lose her job, a position she dearly cherished. "Mr. Malfoy," she asked carefully, "why, exactly, are we locked in a supply closet?" She had a nagging feeling she knew the answer, judging by the look in his eyes, but she sincerely hoped she was mistaken.

"I don't know," he answered with a shrug, his eyes refusing to meet hers in an obvious lie. Hermione sighed inwardly and shifted her hand to her wand in her pocket, just in case.

Then I saw, a quiet figure, at an empty table, saw the hateful stares.

Scorpius shifted nervously. This had seemed like such a good plan when he first devised it in the relative privacy of Slytherin house. It had first come to him over the Christmas holidays when he overheard a conversation between his father and his friend Mister Zabini, the two of them laughing over all the different techniques that had used to attract women while at Hogwarts. He had only heard bits and pieces, but he had gathered enough to realize the true usefulness of the broom closets of Hogwarts. Now that he was actually there, in a very small space, with the woman that had occupied his every dream; he didn't know what to do. He hadn't really thought past getting her into the closet to speak with her, and now he couldn't really think past staring at the curve of her breasts defined by her robes without her noticing. What he wouldn't give to be able to see them unencumbered by the thick cloth of her robes... He blushed and glanced up guiltily when he realized she was speaking again, but only caught the end of her thought as she turned to rattle the doorknob again, "…way to get out."

He saw her reaching for her wand and then had a moment of inspiration. With an excited shout, he pulled his wand from his pocket and shouldered his way between the door and Professor Granger, who quickly jumped out of his way, much to his disappointment. "I'll get us out!" he announced confidently, sure that he could impress the notoriously brilliant love of his life with a bit of clever magic.

"Mister Mal-" she started, but before she could finish her statement, he began to cast a Disenere charm, almost successful if not for the tiniest wobble of his hand as he flicked his wand the last time, an act that elicited a shower of silver sparks from the door handle. He watched in horror along with Professor Granger as the sparks flew across the closet, illuminating the boxes they landed on brightly enough to read what was printed on the side: Weasley's Wild-Fire Whiz-bangs.

Loneliness shone in steel grey eyes and I sat, silent but near, knowing the same look glinted in my own eyes.

Time slowed as Hermione flourished her wand and nearly bellowed Protego in an effort to protect both herself and her student. Her shields rose just in time, only seconds before the contents of the first box ignited, filling the tiny space completely with bright colors and shapes. The noise was deafening, the flashes of color and light blinding in the darkness. The pair huddled in the corner of the closet, each silently wishing with all their might that the Ancient Runes professor's shields would hold. There were no fewer than four large crates filled with the magical pyrotechnics, all of which ended up being detonated by the continuous shower of sparks from the door. Hermione strained to hold her shields for long minutes until the last pop, whiz, and bang had fizzled into a spit of color before she lowered them with a relieved sigh. She quickly cast a Finite Incantatem at the door, ending the destructive sparks, and wordlessly unlocked the door. She then turned to face her student, her hands on her hips and her face drawn into tight, angry lines. "50 points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy," she said, "and expect a visit from your father." With that, she all but stormed through the door, leaving a very nervous Scorpius Malfoy behind.

Hermione swept into her office with a huff and sat down at her desk, snatching a quill and a scrap of parchment.


You need to come to Hogwarts; I must speak with you about Scorpius. He's been acting odd lately, and today he almost caused a serious accident because he was careless. I finish with the students by four o'clock Friday afternoon, if you'd like to stop by then, you would be welcome to stay for dinner. I'm sure Harry would like to see you as well.

-Hermione Granger, Professor of the Study of Ancient Runes

She waited a moment to allow the ink to dry, then carefully rolled the parchment, and placed it on the corner of her desk to take to the Owlery later before selecting the first essay from the top of a pile and beginning to mark it.

I made a timid offer, carefully hid a moment of panic, he nodded.

Friday came quickly enough, although Hermione thought her NEWT-level students might have disagreed, judging by the number of students who had almost drowsed off during her last class of the afternoon. Checking the time, Hermione carefully stacked the papers she had been working on, making sure the edges were perfectly aligned, and stood from her desk. She shut the door to her office, indicating she was no longer available to students, and surveyed the room. The last thing she wanted when Draco arrived was an overly formal setting; their conversation was going to be awkward enough as it was. She had a friendship of sorts with Draco, and Scorpius truly was one of her favorite students, he was incredibly bright for a thirteen-year-old boy, but Draco was still a Malfoy, and Malfoys didn't take kindly to anyone criticizing one of their own.

With a few calculated flicks of her wand, Hermione lit a cheery fire in the grate, warming the chill of the February air in the room, and arranged a few cozy armchairs, perfect for conversation. She had vanished through the door and was rummaging deep in a cupboard in search of a bottle of firewhisky Ron had given her for Christmas one year when she heard a strong knock at her office door.

"Come in!" she yelled, her voice muffled but hopefully clear enough for Draco to get the message. She heard the door open right as her hand finally closed around the bottle of golden-red liquid and she straightened, heading back for her office. "Glad you could make it, Malfoy," she said as she walked into the room. "We have a lot we need-" and she stopped short.

I handed over a slim glass of bubbling champagne, offered a quiet conversation, a polite smile.

"Miss Granger," the tall blonde man standing in front of her fire greeted. "It's been far, far too long," he said, his voice low and smooth. Hermione flushed.

"Lucius," she greeted, her voice careful. "I…was expecting Draco, maybe there's been a mistake?"

He smirked and shook his head. "No mistake, Miss Granger. Draco had another obligation and sent me in his stead. I hope it isn't a problem?"

Hermione hesitated and then quickly shook her head, using her most polite voice when she answered, "No, no, of course not. I can always just owl Draco and schedule for another time, I'm sure you're much too busy to be dealing with your grandson's professors."

The briefest smiles twisted the man's handsome features as he walked closer to where Hermione stood, still clutching the firewhisky in one hand. "Don't be ridiculous, Miss Granger," he admonished, "that would be a terrible inconvenience for everyone. And it's such a pleasure to see you again."

Hermione flushed crimson as the purr in his voice drew her mind back to the last time she had seen the Malfoy patriarch. It had been nearly two years earlier, at the Victory Day Celebration, hosted every year on the grounds of Hogwarts to honor those who were lost in the War and celebrate the defeat of the Dark Lord.

Her face burned as she remembered, the vivid memories sending an unexpected flow of sensation through her. A low, throaty chuckle sounded from Lucius and Hermione's head flew up, startled to see that he was standing directly in front of her, only inches away. She stepped back quickly and turned away, hurrying to take a seat in one of the chairs she had arranged and gesturing for him to take another without meeting his steel gray gaze. She saw him move out of the corner of her eye and watched surreptitiously as he settled in the plush chair with a noise of satisfaction.

I watched the deep red wine swirling in the glasses we toasted, there sounded an unguarded laugh.

"So Mr. Malfoy," she began suddenly, "we need to discuss Scorpius; his behavior of late is becoming a source of concern." To her surprise, he nodded.

"By all means, Professor Granger, please explain. I'm sure there's an explanation for it all."

Hermione had to close her eyes to keep from rolling them at the confidence of his statement but continued, "He's seemed terribly distracted in class, particularly since returning from the holidays, but he's a bright boy, I can't see a reason for it. I thought at first that maybe something was happening while he was home," an affronted look crossed the man's face and she hurried to explain, "and then earlier this week, I ended up trapped in a broom closet with him. He swore it was an accident, but the door had been magically locked from the inside!"

This time surprise shone on Lucius' face, followed by a knowing smirk. "Malfoy men are known for having impeccable taste, Professor Granger."

She scowled both at his remark and because of the small shudder she suppressed at the small, satisfied laugh he released. "That's not the larger issue at hand," she continued, disapproval evident in her tone, "while we were trapped in the closet, Scorpius decided he was going to play the hero and tried to use a spell far too advanced for his age, which backfired and set off several crates of Weasley's Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs which were stored in the closet. We were almost killed!"

We sat with tumblers filled with shimmering amber, empty glasses glinting on the table, a slip of a name passed my lips.

Horror shone in the man's eyes and he scooted to the edge of his chair, unconsciously reaching for one of the hands she had placed in her lap. He gripped it tight and she wasn't sure she realized how concerned he sounded when he asked, "Were you hurt?"

She tugged her hand away and shook her head, "No, both Scorpius and I are fine, although I suspect his pride may be wounded." She stood and moved to stand behind her chair, putting it in between her and the older man. "It's clear something needs to be done though, if Scorpius continues acting foolishly it is possibly he may hurt another student, and that's unacceptable."

Lucius stood as well, carefully smoothing a wrinkle from his robes before responding. "I really can't see how a silly schoolboy crush on a professor is grounds for such serious action, Professor Granger."

My hands gestured wildly in the air, the soft tone of my voice mixing with the smooth purr of his.

She stiffened and a spark flashed in her eyes. "I can't believe you-" she retorted, but he cut her off, "I personally have rather fond memories of fireworks, Miss Granger, do you not?" A smirk laced his tone. She blushed charmingly, refusing to answer, and he slowly stalked closer.

"You see, Miss Granger, poor Scorpius has likely been taking lessons on charming a woman from his father, not a particularly good choice in my opinion, considering current circumstances. I must apologize for him, if he had come to me, I most certainly would not have advised he lock the object of his affections in a closet."

He moved closer, circling the chair as Hermione froze and kept her gaze glued to the dancing flames in front of her. "If he had come to me, as he should have, I would have told him he must first pay the girl unexpected compliments, your hair looks absolutely lovely today by the way, Miss Granger. Then, of course, he's young still, so he would have to rely on his wit and his charm to gain her interest, we wouldn't want another Malfoy heir around just yet." Lucius moved to stand behind Hermione, who tensed, and placed a light hand on her shoulder, one thumb rubbing in small circles near the base of her neck.

I pulled my chair near, his head bent close, our voices rising in fiery debate as bright colors burst overhead.

"Allow him his boyhood crush, Miss Granger. He'll have plenty of time to charm plenty of women when he's grown. Malfoy men have a notorious knack for…charming." His voice lowered to a purring whisper and his mouth neared her ear as he spoke. Hermione shivered as his warm breath brushed over her delicate skin and he chuckled softly as he pressed his lips against the pulse beneath her ear. "Wouldn't you agree, Miss Granger?" he asked as his opposite hand slid up to toy with the ends of her curls.

"Hmm?" she asked distractedly, not entirely sure to what he was referring and instead trying not to focus on how soft his lips felt against her skin.

I felt strong arms tighten around me, heard the crack of Apparition, opened my eyes to firelight flickering in a darkened room.

"Charming, are we not?" he demanded as he tightened his grip on her hair, tugging her head back gently so that he could see his face. Mute and feeling overwhelmed by the large presence of the man who had haunted her most secret dreams ever since that night so long ago, Hermione gave a small nod. A satisfied expression lit his eyes and he ghosted his lips over hers before turning her in his arms and crushing their lips together.

A surprised gasp left her lips and turned into a soft moan as his hands tightened around her hips, pulling her close. His tongue traced the seam of her lips insistently and she opened obediently, her tongue curling against his as her hands up to tangle in his long blonde hair to pull him closer. He chuckled against her mouth and pulled away, his lips trailing down her neck, only stopping to bite and suck at her pulse. She arched against him, pressing her curves against his hard chest. She gripped at his robes, tugging at the buttons that were in the way of what she wanted.

Hermione whimpered as one of the man's large hands wrapped around hers, tugging them away from the buttons. "Not yet, Miss Granger," he purred, moving her hands behind her back.

We shared a quick glance, our lips pressing hard, my questing hands held fast.

She stared up at him wide-eyed for a moment and then spoke, "Lucius?"

"Yes?" he answered distractedly as he slid one hand up to cup her small breast through her robes.

She took a deep breath then continued, "What exactly are you doing?"

He froze and shifted his hands back to her hips, grey eyes meeting amber as he arched one haughty platinum brow. "If it truly requires explanation, Miss Granger," his voice lowered to the barest of whispers and he leaned close, "I'm going to fuck you."

Hermione blushed with a tiny, embarrassed squeak. "I…" she stuttered, "I suppose I should have asked 'why' instead of 'what'?"

His large hands were seeking, searching, pulling at the soft fabric shrouding my body.

He straightened, no longer touching her but still standing close enough to prevent her escape, and moved his hand to the top button of his robes. He slowly began to unbutton each button as he answered her somewhat timid question, "Because, Miss Granger, I haven't been able to even look at another witch since I last saw you. I don't know what you've done to me, temptress, but I know I want you, I know I need your tight little body writhing beneath mine, your sweet voice calling my name." He released the final button and his robes fell open as Hermione squirmed at his words.

Our quick gasps filled the silence, his long fingers flying over buttons, my skin gleaming in the dancing light.

Lucius grabbed one of her hands, raising it to press her palm against his bared chest. "Feel my pulse race," he murmured, his voice unusually soft. She stilled for a moment, and then her hand curved slightly, her nails pressing against his chest. An instant later her other hand raised, cupped the back of his head, and pulled him down for a hard, bruising kiss. Lucius groaned, a harsh, desperate sound, as the petite woman pressed her entire body against his, rubbing against his rigid cock.

His hands flew to her robes, ripping them away without care for the small gold buttons and ignoring her half-hearted, muffled protest. She moaned softly as he released the front clasp of her bra and caught one pebbled nipple between his fingers. He toyed with it a moment, teasing small whimpers from her throat, and then released it, setting his hands on her hips and lifting Hermione to balance on the back of her armchair. When he was sure she wouldn't fall, he reclaimed one of her breasts with his hand and bent over to slowly drag his tongue across the rosy nipple of the other. He teased and sucked for what seemed like an eternity, until Hermione was writhing and begging under his ministrations.

My hot breath rushed over his pale skin, his fingers drifted into hidden shadows.

"Lucius, please," she whimpered. He straightened, letting his fingers trail lightly down her firm stomach.

"Please what, Miss Granger?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice and his face neutral.

She hesitated, nerves flitting across her face, before whispering in the softest of whimpers, "Fuck me again, Lucius." A triumphant smile covered his face and he quickly removed his trousers before wrapping his hand around the scrap of fabric keeping him from her pussy and ripping it away from her body. He stepped closer and pulled the woman off the back of the chair and into his arms, allowing her to sink hard and fast onto his cock.

His skin against mine, hard slipping against soft, my sweet moans echoing through the dark.

The pair moaned almost simultaneously as her velvet walls gripped his cock hard, fluttering tortuously against him. He turned with the witch in his arms and walked toward the wall, pressing her back against the cool stone. He moved his hands to cup her perfectly round ass and began to drive into her, pressing her against the wall repeatedly. Her breath quickened and her moans came faster as he tilted her slightly, rubbing against her sensitive clit with every move. It wasn't long until Lucius' thrusts became faster, more irregular, spurred on by the begging moans of his lover and the kisses she was pressing against his neck. With a mighty shout, Lucius tensed and spilled his seed the hot rush bringing Hermione over the edge with him.

On a breath, I spoke, into the quiet sound of sleep, a few words, "I think I could love you."

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed! Don't forget to drop me a review!