As some of you know, I took this fic down a year or so ago, reworked it into an original story and entered it into a competition with a major publisher, with the possibility that it would be published. Only one winner was published and, although my story was shortlisted in the final, it didn't make it to publication. So, what on earth am I hanging about for? If I do submit that story elsewhere, I'll have to take this down again, but in the meantime, there's no point in keeping it tucked away. So many of you have asked for it back and, after all, it really does complete the series. So here it is back where it belongs - Part Four of the To Relieve Boredom series - Scorpio Rising.

(For those of you unfamiliar with this series, Hermione has, over the course of the stories and with the help of a time-turner, had encounters with three generations of Malfoy family. During this, she has developed a deep bond with Lucius, which continues here. But now there's a new generation ...)

NB: THERE IS OCCASIONALLY SOME MISUNDERSTANDING ABOUT PARENTAGE WITH REGARD TO THIS SERIES. HOW, I DO NOT KNOW, BUT JUST TO MAKE IT CLEAR - SCORPIUS REMAINS DRACO AND ASTORIA'S SON. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS THERE THE REMOTEST SNOWBALL'S CHANCE IN HELL THAT HE IS HERMIONE'S OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. I MEAN, HUH? NO. WAY. EVER. NOT. IN. A. MILLION. YEARS. I MAY BE WEIRD, BUT I'M NOT THAT WEIRD.

Several years had passed since Hermione and Lucius had become lovers.

In terms of their relationship, little had changed in that time. Both were completely happy with the arrangement, as odd as it seemed. Lucius remained married, although spent little time with his wife who was often abroad visiting friends and relatives. Hermione would visit the Manor often, staying the night.

Early on, she had also occasionally seen Draco, entirely with Lucius' sanction and even encouragement, but they had stopped when he had started with Astoria. Hermione had not wanted to impinge on his happiness or destroy the hopes of a young woman. And she still had Lucius.

Draco had recently provided an heir to the Malfoy line. Lucius was a ridiculously proud grandfather and had shown Hermione pictures of the boy. Hermione could not deny the effortless cuteness of the blond curls and bright grey eyes of the next generation Malfoy male. When with Hermione, Lucius chatted with genuine interest and deep love about Scorpius, as the boy had been called. She allowed him to with tender adoration. It was hard to believe he was a grandfather; his body had hardly aged in the years she had known him. He still only looked to be in his early forties.

Occasionally, she had tried seeing other people – 'normal' people – but it had proved futile. And she knew she could not let go of Lucius. Since her inhabitation of the Malfoy men had started, first with Abraxas, then moving to Lucius and Draco, she had known that no man from another family would be able to fully satisfy her again. When a man became interested in her, she had no wish to deceive, and found a way to end it before either of them got hurt. Lucius was always waiting for her. Did she miss not being able to go out in public as a couple, to think of a proper future with transparency and planning, ... children even? Yes, at times, but the relationship she shared with Lucius, both physical and intellectual, was so profound that she told herself it was enough. And she was still only twenty eight.

Professionally, she was soaring. She found herself at the highest echelons of the Ministry, her knowledge and expertise in constant demand by companies and organisations.

Lucius too remained occupied with his business interests and consultancy work. He tried hard not to be away too much, but it was sometimes unavoidable.

And so it was one bright October day. It was still warm, but the early autumn sunshine was not easing the malaise gripping Hermione. Lucius was in Australia on business: work which would take him away for three weeks. Two had already passed and Hermione was growing desperate for his return. Her sexual need was as great as ever and her body ached for the feel of his skin, fibres and muscles around and within her.

Before he had gone, Lucius had essentially told her to seek satisfaction with others in his absence. He knew her body's needs would struggle to last for three weeks, although both knew it was unlikely she would want or find someone else.

His ability to tolerate any 'infidelity' on her part staggered her. She knew full well he saw no-one else, but he had always allowed her the freedom to live a normal, public life when away from him. He practically encouraged it, although she had never followed it through, apart from with his own son. She assumed his attitude stemmed from a sense of guilt over holding her back in terms of marriage and family. She could live as she needed. He was assured of her devotion; it was enough for him.

But so far in his absences, it was work alone which had distracted her. And so it was with some excitement that she was summoned to the Minister's office on what was termed a Priority Case. These only occurred when there was some immediate danger or need for Ministry controlled magic.

Intellectual anticipation at least took Hermione's mind off the need for Malfoy cock for a while.

"Hermione!" Kingsley beamed as she entered. "Sit, please."

She did, leaning forward with expectation. The Minister immediately set about detailing the reasons for summoning her.

"As you may know, the Department of Mysteries has recently undertaken its annual monitoring of prophecies. They are all of course newly discovered prophecies, acquired since the ... incident you yourself were involved in those years ago. Anyway, one prophecy has been discovered which needs action to be taken. It involves a hex which acts upon ... ignorance, shall we say, for want of a better word. It is a specific prophecy revealing the students of Warlock College, Oxford as the target. We are not sure why; perhaps the perpetrator of the hex had a grudge to bear against the institution."

Hermione listened with interest. Warlock College was part of the Muggle University of Oxford, existing as an academic institution for witches and wizards, but remaining entirely concealed to the Muggles of the university and town. The chancellor and leading dons of the university knew of its existence, and the wizarding students who attended it could not only study wizardry at the most eminent academic institution in the country but could also enjoy the benefits of a relatively normal student life around Oxford. Hermione herself had studied there for a few years in her early twenties.

"The hex in itself is easily negated as long as the people involved are given the correct information, in this case, how to gird one's soul against the infiltration of dark matter due to a closed mind," continued Shacklebolt. "We have worked with hexes of this nature before. A simple tutorial in how to do this usually works. However, it is essential to do it as, if left ignored, the hex will become active and pollute the minds of whomever is around to the extent that they will most likely turn irrevocably to the Dark Arts."

"And the prophecy is indicating that the time is nigh for the hex to take effect?" queried Hermione.

"Not exactly. But luckily we do know when – the prophecy was remarkably specific. It appears that it will be set in motion in about twenty years' time."

Hermione frowned in confusion. "So what are we supposed to do about it? Surely it's a question of it being dealt with in the future. We will simply have to make sure the message gets through in two decades time."

"We could indeed, but I have my doubts and fears that there will be a person available with the necessary knowledge in twenty years time. This requires the people to be taught about the obscurest arms of the Dark Arts. You have that knowledge, Hermione. To be frank, you are the only person who even comes close. I cannot trust it to an unknown 'somebody' in the future. You are the only one."

"But ..."

Shacklebolt leaned forwardly intently. "I'm asking you to use a Ministry-controlled Time-Turner and travel forward two decades. You will lecture this particular group of students. Despite the danger of the hex itself, armed with the knowledge you will provide, the students will essentially be rendered immune to it. They will not even need to know why you are there. You will simply be a visiting DADA professor giving a one-off lecture."

With that Kingsley stood and crossed to a locked cabinet behind him, unlocking it with a charm. From it he produced an object all too familiar to Hermione – a Time-Turner. Her insides jerked with excitement. It had been nearly a decade since she had last seen one, since she had used it simply for her own amusement – to travel back over three decades. It was then that she had met Abraxas Malfoy and set in motion the events which had changed her notion of desire forever.

As Kingsley held the object up carefully, the glass orb dangling amidst the gold spheres, her skin tingled with ardent anticipation.

"The Ministry monitors and maintains two of these. They are only issued in exceptional and necessary circumstances with my consent. There is a real-time tracking device enchanted into it, monitoring how long you spend and if you deviate from the agreed place, so you cannot be tempted to go gallivanting across time and space like ... like ..."

"Doctor Who," Hermione suggested.

Kingsley looked at her blankly. "Excuse me?"

She shook her head with a slight smile. She should have remembered she was the only wizarding person she knew who watched Muggle TV. "Nevermind."

Kingsley furrowed his brow and shook off his confusion. "Anyway, as I was saying ... there are disciplinary procedures should you abuse your use of this device. I have given you twelve hours to spend in Oxford on October 16th, 2020. That should be sufficient. There are many dangers and ethical and moral issues thrown up should you prolong your stay. I know I can trust you."

"Of course, Minister. Thank you for the opportunity. When do I leave?"

"Well, I'd rather hoped you could go next Wednesday. That gives you a week to prepare. Here is all the documentation you need – it should give you enough information to present a thorough lecture."

Hermione took the papers Kingsley was holding and left to begin her work immediately. She was disappointed she would not be spending very long in the future, but anything was better than nothing. She would certainly make the most of it.

The actual content of the work was detailed, but for Hermione at least, not taxing. She was relieved that it was simply a question of delivering a lecture; she was not the finely-tuned physical and mental warrior that she had been.

And so on the following Wednesday she arrived in Kingsley's office, clad in a skirt and jacket which highlighted her shapely body and long legs. It helped to feel good about herself.

"Ready, Hermione?"

"Certainly, Minister."

"Well, as I said, as long as you address the points, all will be well. The task in itself is straight-forward, it is simply the manner of delivering it which is rather out of the ordinary! I have managed to send a message into the future, informing the Warden of Warlock College of the situation. He alone knows the real reason for your visit. Everyone else will believe you are a visiting professor. You will use the name Professor Liddell. I am sure you will make a great impression!" He chuckled and crossed to the cabinet. Hermione's heart started beating wildly. Kingsley withdrew the Time-Turner and incanted a charm over it.

"There. It is yours for twelve hours. Use it well. I have calculated one hundred and twenty six spins in a clockwise direction to get there. Luckily, I can charm it to stop after the correct number." He waved his wand again over the instrument before handing it to Hermione. "You must Apparate to Oxford and find a quiet corner to use the Time-Turner in. Now ... off you go."

Hermione took the object in her hand and placed it carefully round her neck. Smiling broadly at Kingsley, she Disapparated from his office, arriving silently in a quiet back street of Oxford. Ascertaining her whereabouts, she made her way to Warlock College. It was one of the most beautiful colleges in Oxford, although hardly anyone was even aware of its existence as it was charmed to appear only as a large wall. Founded in 1463, it had large, finely-carved buildings around the main quad, with turrets and spires rising up towards the heavens. The green grass of the quad was newly-mown and smelt vibrant and fresh. Hermione hoped the weather would be just as good in the future.

Taking a deep breath and retreating to the shadows, she began to spin the Time-Turner. The world immediately whirled and blurred around her. She kept her eyes focused on the little glass orb around her neck. Eventually, it slowed and stopped. Hermione raised her eyes. Nothing seemed to have changed. It was still sunny, she was relieved to note. Some students caught her eye as they strolled across the quad. Pencil skirts seemed to be back – she wouldn't look too out of place. The boys looked the same as ever – jeans, shirts rolled up at the sleeve, unruly hair in need of attention.

Hermione found the porter's lodge and announced her arrival.

"Yes, Professor, the Warden is expecting you. If you go to the rooms through the arch in the North East corner of the quad you should find him there."

Hermione made her way as directed. She was greeted by an elegant man in his mid-forties. He carried an air of effortless intelligence about him. Shaking her hand firmly, he leaned in to ensure no-one else could hear. "Miss Granger, Tobias Vintner – an honour to have you here. You won't remember me, but I was two years below you in school – Ravenclaw."

Hermione shook the Warden's hand, smiling in bemusement. It was odd to be introduced to a man nearly twenty years older than her who had been her junior in school.

"Come, the lecture theatre is this way. It is due to start in half an hour. I'm afraid I am busy today and won't be able to attend and I am aware that you won't be able to stay long afterwards. Such a shame, but I do understand. Your task, as I understand it, is a simple question of giving the lecture. That should do the trick. Odd that this college, this year, has been targeted, but ... one can never fully explain the workings of our world! Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, Professor Vintner, thank you, I have all I need."

They had arrived in the lecture room, an intimate, old chamber, with wooden seating rising up from the floor. It was the first time Hermione had lectured in such an academic setting and relished the opportunity to try it out.

"In that case, I'll leave you to prepare. Goodbye, Miss Granger, or as I suppose I should say ... Professor Liddell!"

Hermione got out her notes and put them on the podium. The students started to file in, looking at her curiously. She smiled at them but maintained her air of calm authority. They needed to listen attentively. She was due to start at two o'clock.

As the college clock sonorously struck the hour, she began her lecture.

Hermione quickly settled into a commanding and informed pace, speaking fluidly and confidently; she found she rather enjoyed it. The students sitting before her seemed engaged in her words and fixed her with inquiring, open faces, hungry for knowledge. She could get used to this.

Five minutes into her discourse the door at the top of the lecture theatre opened and a young man came in. He made no attempt to be discreet or silent and walked prominently with louche but under-stated arrogance down to near the front, stepping across the other students to find a seat near the middle of a row. Hermione stopped with a faint sigh of undisguised annoyance and waited for him to settle down.

The young man turned to her, his eyebrows raised as if realising for the first time that he might be causing a disturbance and smiled with perfect white teeth across to her. "Sorry." His voice was low and smooth. He held her gaze and maintained his smile for a time.

Hermione pursed her lips with annoyance but felt colour rushing into her cheeks. He was staggeringly good-looking. She had noticed his long legs as he had walked with languid casualness down the stairs. His jeans were topped with a dark grey t-shirt, tight enough to reveal the broad toned torso beneath. His blue-grey eyes had sparkled when he had spoken to her, but most distracting of all was the floppy dense mass of white blond hair which sat atop his head.

His manner, his appearance, his demeanour ... so familiar. Surely not ...?

Hermione found she had stopped talking while assessing the young man. She was trying to glare at him but realised this was probably not entirely exhibited on her face. He smiled again: a teasing smile of relaxed insouciance. "Carry on."

Despite not needing his sanction, Hermione lowered her head quickly to her notes and continued with her lecture, as if unable to do so until he had spoken. She cursed silently for allowing herself to be distracted.

Hermione soon got back on track, however, and delivered what was needed with aplomb and confident intelligence. The students listened respectfully. The young man with the grey t-shirt and blond hair was looking intently at her the entire time, taking careful notes. She found herself drawn towards his eyes more than she cared to admit, and each time she met them noticed a spark within and a faint smile flit around his mouth.

He would occasionally pull up a hand to run through his mass of hair, drawing it off his face for a moment before it fell back rebelliously in front of his eyes again. She could only admit – he was completely beguiling.

Towards the end of the lecture, whenever she glanced in his direction he would be staring intently at her again. He seemed to have given up on taking notes, and instead was holding his pencil between those perfect teeth, or letting it dangle from his lips. Hermione found herself instinctively rubbing her legs together. She did not allow herself to become distracted enough from her thorough delivery, but knew that by the end of it she was essentially lecturing for one person only. And she could not deny the signals she was getting from him. They were undeniably exciting her.

But after the lecture, like the consummate professional she was, she packed away her things and headed for the door. The young man had turned to talk to his friends; she did not notice whether he gave her a final glance or not.

Hermione walked purposefully towards a discreet place from which to return to her own time.

As she was about to disappear out of the quad she heard rapid footsteps on the path behind her.

"Professor! Wait a moment!"

She stopped and turned, knowing who she would find behind her. She was right. It was the young blond man from the lecture.

She stood as impassively as she could before him, waiting for him to speak. He was just a puppy. She would retain the upper hand here.

"I just wanted to say ... great lecture. I really learnt a lot. I never knew any of the theory behind negating the Dark Arts before. I feel as if I could defend myself against some pretty intense stuff now."

Good. Job done then. That at least was something. The man continued.

"And sorry ... y'know, for being late. I got the impression you didn't like it very much."

"No, I didn't."

He smirked at her honesty, running his fingers through his hair again. "Well ... there we go ... no excuses ... but I am sorry." He was grinning down at her. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Hermione allowed a slight smile to soften her features. She knew where this was leading.

"What did you have in mind?" Her voice was more flirtatious than she had intended. He looked into her eyes before continuing.

"Oh ... writing out my timetable for the year in detail to show you how regretful I am about it ... giving you an essay on the need for punctuality in every aspect of life ... presenting you with a parchment transcript of your lecture ... taking you out for a drink ..." He smirked, his hands now thrust deep into his pockets.

Hermione dropped her head with a laugh. "I didn't think that sort of thing was encouraged between students and lecturers."

"Oh, but you were only my lecturer for an hour."

"Fifty-five minutes," she corrected with a glare.

"Fifty-five minutes," he agreed. "Whatever it was ... I am perfectly entitled to ask you for a drink and you are perfectly entitled to accept ... or not."

She smiled up at him, past the firm muscles of his chest, noting the biceps under the t-shirt. "I don't even know your name."

He held out his hand, and paused with a flash of his smile before saying, "I'm Scorpius."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and let out a faint rueful laugh. She knew it. She had known it as soon as he had walked into the lecture theatre, the sun dancing off his hair. Laughing to herself, she extended her hand, conveniently forgetting to mention her own name. "Very well, Scorpius ... I will gladly accept that drink."

He smiled with satisfaction, holding her eyes deliberately. "Great." With that they turned and walked together. "Are you here for long?"

"No, I have to get back later today."

"And where would 'back' be?"

She smirked. "Somewhere else."

He glanced at her, exhaling a laugh. He was clearly not going to get any further on that front.

"Are you in your last year?" she continued.

"Yeah ... going abroad next year – investigating Dark Practices in Indian magical society. Should be good. Dangerous, but hey ... makes life interesting."

"Sounds fascinating. And you don't mind leaving England behind?"

"Nah ... can't wait really."

"It's a long way from friends and family."

"I'm sure they can survive without me for a while," Scorpius laughed.

"Is there no-one special who'll miss you then?" she teased.

He glanced at her with a smirk. "No ... I dunno ... there've been one or two people who've lasted a while since I've been here, but ... y'know ... it's good to be single right now ..."

She looked up at him and smiled. They'd reached what looked like a suitable pub. "What's this like?"

"Good choice – my local! Come on." He held the door open for her and they went in.

They approached the bar. "What can I get you?" asked Hermione.

"Oh no – this is on me – with apologies for my tardiness."

"I wasn't going to impose on an impoverished student," she smirked.

He laughed again, hanging his head, his hair hanging deliciously before his eyes. Her belly stirred. "Hardly impoverished I have to admit, although Dad can be a tight-arsed bastard when he wants, hence my shabby accommodation, but ... I can just about stretch to a couple of drinks."

"Thank you then ... I'll have a vodka and tonic."

He ordered two.

"Do you come from a wealthy family?" she queried, interested to see how he would respond.

He smirked. "You could say that."

She was intrigued that he did not disclose anymore about his provenance. The Malfoy name was known throughout the wizarding world and yet he chose not to reveal it. As well as finding him ridiculously attractive, Hermione also rather liked him.

And she knew she wanted him.

It had been so long. Here at last was an opportunity she wanted to take up, something which would not feel like a betrayal of Lucius. It was almost her duty to take this boy. The Malfoys were hers after all, were they not? And here before her was the next generation. The prospect of having him was so delicious she wasn't sure she could wait to get through her drink. The young man rested on the bar before her, all olive-skinned sinew and flesh, his muscles shifting elegantly before her eyes as he leaned forward. She stared hard at him. He turned his head and caught her eye. It was obvious what she was thinking. He held her gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

The drinks arrived. Scorpius produced money from a battered but beautifully smooth leather wallet, handing it over in long elegant fingers. Malfoy fingers. She wanted to touch him.

He motioned them over to a quiet table in the corner.

"So do you do a lot of lecturing?"

"No. First time."

"Didn't seem like it."

"Thanks."

"So what do you normally do?"

"Oh ... this and that."

"You're not going to tell me much, are you?" he smirked.

"No."

"Fine by me. A little mystery never did anyone any harm."

Hermione was getting through her drink quite rapidly. Scorpius noticed and kept pace.

"Do you live in college?"

"No. I share a flat with some mates. They're all away at the moment though – Quidditch match in Ireland."

"Don't you play?"

"Yeah – I was Seeker, but I picked up a hexed shoulder injury early in the season and couldn't play. Bloody nightmare. It's better now, but it completely buggered up any chance of playing all year."

"Sorry about that. Still, if you'd been chasing little flying balls in Ireland you wouldn't have been in my lecture."

"True."

"And that would have been a great shame ..." she smirked at him, her eyes meeting his as she took the last drink from her glass.

"True." His grey eyes danced.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. She hoped his flat wasn't far away.

"Do you want another?"

"No." She held his gaze, her face set and giving little away. "I want you."

Scorpius exhaled, his dark lips curling into a smile. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Her hand was on his thigh, slowly, sensually drawing itself tantalisingly up towards the straining of his jeans, but stopping before any relief was forthcoming. He sucked in a breath, speaking low and desperate. "Fuck, as soon as I saw you standing in that hall ... fucking hell I wanted you ..."

Her fingers explored the tight muscles of his thigh, curling around underneath.

"Well then, we'd better see what we can do about it."

He stood while he still had the sense to do so, taking her wrist and pulling her up behind him. His sudden show of masculine strength took her a little by surprise, but only served to inflame her yet more. She allowed herself to be pulled along willingly. Luckily, it did not take long to reach a door just a little further up the street. He opened it with a key and led the way upstairs, practically running. Muttering a charm, the door to a flat at the top opened and he walked in. Hermione followed and shut the door behind her.

"Uhh ... sorry about the mess ... it's been hard to keep it tidy with everyone away and I ..." He turned around. "Fucking hell almighty ..."

She was naked.

Scorpius walked steadily towards her, his eyes taking in every inch of her. He stopped a foot away and looked her up and down once again.

"You are so fucking hot."

Not beautiful, not sublime ...hot. This boy would not employ the language used by his forebears. This was not going to be subtle love-making. Before her stood six foot of young unadulterated raw male sexuality.

She smirked. Bring it on.

Reaching out her hands, she gripped his t-shirt tightly and pulled it slowly up. He helped to bring it over his head, revealing his naked torso. Hermione smiled with thrilled delight. Before her was revealed the most beautiful body. Lucius's body was still perfect for her, but this is what he must have looked like in his youth. Scorpius' skin was as smooth as peach skin, with a golden hue highlighting the rise of his toned muscles. His dark nipples stood out in the cool air and his chest rose and fell rapidly with anticipation. She brought up a hand and placed it on the firm ripples of his belly, then lowered her mouth to plant a hot open kiss on the delicious flesh. The boy sucked in a breath. He was coiling himself in; she knew he could not be contained for long, but for now he allowed her her exploration. Her tongue darted out, tasting and savouring him, taking a nipple in her lips, teasing it, nipping it.

"Fuck ..." His head fell back and he moaned into the room.

Taking her head firmly in his large hands, he pulled her up, and with hardly a glance at her, plunged his mouth hard onto hers, opening it violently and thrusting his tongue in to inhabit her. She responded equally, gripping his hair and holding him there. Her insides arced with pleasure. He tasted delicious.

Soon enough his mouth travelled down, slipping over her skin, sucking her nipples hard onto his tongue, plying the flesh of her breasts with his fingers. "Fuck ... beautiful tits, you have beautiful tits ... I want to taste you, I want to taste all of you ... need to taste your pussy. Lie down." He practically dragged her to the ground. She laughed a little with the thrilled delight of it. He was blatant and bold in his needs, different to his grandfather and great-grandfather, and unencumbered by the emotional neurosis of his father.

He was raw man.

She lay down and spread herself for him.

"Yes oh yes oh yes." With a rushed slur of anticipated pleasure, Scorpius lowered himself to her wet folds. He did not tease and lick nimbly as she was used to, he plunged in. His open mouth attached itself to her pussy, his tongue pouring over while his lips somehow managed to draw her already swollen clit out to ripe expectation. She moaned aloud, pushing herself even harder against him.

Scorpius groaned against her, pulling back momentarily to comment on the pleasure of his task. "Fuck, that's good, even better than I thought. That's all I was thinking when you were talking – dreaming of your pussy ..."

"Go back ..." She pushed him back with a groan of frustration. He obliged, plundering her more fervently than ever. He went about his task with complete abandon. With her other lovers, this approach would not have worked, but for now, for him, it was all she wanted. No emotion, no ties, no need for a deeper connection. Just her body and his.

His tongue swept up her ever-dripping pleasure and circled her clit. She came.

Her body tensed then shuddered as a wail of ecstasy rose from her.

Scorpius pulled back after she had stilled, his body ever more primed and hard, and started to undo his jeans. "Fuck, you sound good when you come. Stand up. I wanna fuck you standing first time. I wanna be as far up you as I can." He stood and pulled her to her feet; she fell against him with a laugh, plunging her mouth against his again. He attacked it momentarily, before looking down to focus on removing his jeans and boxers.

Hermione glanced down. There it was. She smiled with delight.

Magnificent.

He was as broad as his ancestors, straight like Abraxas, perhaps even longer. She moaned and reached out, clasping it and pulling it towards her.

"Shit! Give me a fucking chance." He laughed and pressed her against the wall, pushing her legs open with his knees. Hermione rose up on tiptoes. His hands came around her arse to hold her up as much as possible. Then with skilled fluidity, he thrust up into her.

A loud groan was pulled from both of them. "Fuck!" Scorpius hissed through his teeth, pausing only a moment to absorb the sensation of her tight heat. Hermione drew her thigh around him, gripping him in close to her. He grunted a sigh against her throat.

Clenching her pussy, she exhorted him to move. "Fuck me, fuck me, do it."

"Anything you say, babe."

If anyone else had called her that, she would have been out of the door within a few seconds, but this boy was so perfect, so sexually concentrated, his cock so vast and hard within her, that she simply smiled and awaited him.

He moved, hard and deep, thrusting so full into her each time she wondered if he would break through. It hurt. She didn't care. For every pang of fullness he stroked her g-spot and clit as well, bringing her rapidly towards another climax.

The sounds emerging from his throat were turning her on as much as his cock. Never had she heard such base, animalistic noises of sheer pleasure. He was pouring himself into her body, living it, using and worshipping it. Never had she known anyone so happy within his own body and hers.

He moved fast and furious now, never slowing, his cock ploughing relentlessly along her. With a final groan of triumph he tensed and burst into her. "Coming ... coming ... fucking coming ... ooh, fuck ..." She was unused to such brazen and base vocalisations from her lover. The vocal confirmation of his pleasure sent her over the edge and she followed him swiftly, her own cry joining his as her pussy convulsed around his throbbing cock.

Together they slumped to the floor, the air heavy with their panting breaths.

"Shit, you're good," he sighed.

"Oh, believe me ... the feelings are mutual."

He chuckled.

"What?"

"I dunno, it's funny. It's just ... the way you express yourself ... you remind me of my grandfather."

Hermione froze. Bloody hell. Had Lucius had such an influence on her? She smiled to herself, feeling an odd pride and connection with her older lover.

"Come on. You're in luck – changed the bed this morning." He grinned at her before standing and pulling her to her feet. They fell together towards the bed, staggering a little with a laugh. He fell backwards onto it first, his eyes shining with amusement. She reached down and kissed him, reminded forcibly of who he was, where he had come from. Her kiss turned into a laugh. The situation was ridiculous. At times she was filled with a sense of panic – would she never be able to have anyone except a Malfoy again? In her own time, Lucius remained married; she would never challenge him on that. Draco had married and seemed happy enough, having recently had a son ... a son ... she laughed again.

And here she was once more, assuaging the burn, addressing the need. Another Malfoy, as wonderful in his way as all the others.

She glanced around his room, scanning the books lying haphazardly around. Despite his primeval sexual needs, Scorpius was clearly a highly intelligent and well-read scholar. Hermione knelt on the bed and leaned down to the floor to pick up a heavy volume. "Principles of Mystic Transfiguration in Medieval Persia. Don't tell me you read this for fun?"

"Would it surprise you if I did?" came the voice behind her.

She replied ruefully, "Nothing surprises me."

"Not even this?"

With that, he thrust fully and unexpectedly into her from behind. Hermione gasped with sudden and deep pleasure. Fuck, he was so big.

"Do it again and I'll tell you."

He did.

"Not surprised," she groaned, "just impressed."

"That's what I like to hear."

"Arrogant sod."

He chuckled as he pistoned steadily in and out of her. "Can't deny it. I can tell you, it runs in the family."

Oh, don't I know it, she thought silently.

"Gods, your pussy is incredible ... so bloody tight and hot, woman ... were you fucking made for me?"

Something like that ...

"Shit, I'm gonna come too soon, gotta slow down." He steadied himself. His running commentary on his feelings amused Hermione, but she was frustrated by the denial of the relentless push of his huge cock along her.

"God, don't stop!" she groaned.

Slowly, he teased her with the head only, pressing the round bulb into her pussy lips before denying her more and withdrawing it again. She moaned and brought her hand back to try to draw him in further.

"What's the matter, babe?" he chuckled.

"More. I want to feel you, all of you inside me."

"How do you mean ... like that?" He propelled himself fully into her. She gasped with shock and delight.

"Yes, you bastard! Do it again."

"Don't worry, babe, I'm gonna make your body sing. Just leave it to me."

She gave up directing him. Whatever he was doing, it was driving her rapidly towards yet another orgasm.

He was back to small steady strokes again, angling his cock perfectly to catch her g-spot.

He leant over and pushed down on the small of her back so that her spine dipped away from him in an erotic curve. Her rump quivered with each thrust and his hands ran over it with appreciation.

"What a perfect arse. Perfect tits, perfect arse, perfect pussy. What more can a guy want?"

"Someone with a brain?" she moaned.

"Well ... maybe, but you've got that covered too. Now ... just let me fuck you."

With that, he started moving faster and deeper again. His breathing came rapidly and was punctuated by perpetual moans and words of dirty pleasure. Hermione found his filthy mouth a complete turn-on and soon found herself on the brink yet again.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, don't stop!" His approach was rubbing off on her. "Fuck me harder, harder, you bastard. I want to feel your huge fucking cock so deep in me. I want it to make me come screaming. Now, now ... ooh, yes, yes ... that's it ... now!"

She spasmed around him, her pussy clenching his cock so hard he could do nothing else but come forcefully into her, gripping her hips and crying out in guttural rapture.

He moved to slump on the bed, his eyes closed as he recovered. She came up to lie beside him, resting her head on his toned chest. His arm closed limply about her.

"Perfect pussy ..." he mumbled. She smiled and planted a kiss on his torso.

For a time they drifted off into a light sleep, the bright afternoon sun dulling into a golden glow of evening.

Hermione roused herself as Scorpius lay sleeping and went and showered. She supposed she should probably get back sooner rather than later. The Time-Turner was only sanctioned for one day; she would be reprimanded if it was not signed back in after the allotted time. When she returned from the shower she began dressing quietly, her head down to concentrate on her buttons.

"What are you doing?"

She looked up in surprise. Scorpius was resting on an elbow, his hair falling idly across his face, his sculpted torso sticking out from the white sheet. She had to look away again or she would have simply gawped. "I'd better get back."

"Shit, babe, not so soon. We'd only just started."

Hermione smiled ruefully. "I really haven't got the time. It's been incredible, Scorpius, but, really ..."

"I want you to sit on my face."

Hermione stopped, her head falling into her hands in amused embarrassment. Despite her sexual confidence and experimentation, that was the first time anyone had come out with it quite so blatantly. However, despite the vulgarity of the suggestion, she could hardly pretend she wasn't tempted.

She looked up at him with a sly smirk. "You really are something else, aren't you?"

He leaned towards her a little and smiled, raising his forefinger and beckoning her over.

She sniffed out a defeatist laugh. How could she refuse? Why should she refuse?

Removing the clothes she had just put back on, she walked deliberately over to him and climbed up onto the bed. He lay down flat. Hermione crept up his body, kissing it, licking it as she went, although avoiding the enormous rise of his rock-hard cock: that could come later. She continued moving up his body, her tongue and lips teasing and tantalising as she went.

"That's right, that's right, up you come, up you come, you gorgeous thing, I want your pussy where I can taste it, smell it, eat it."

She laughed again at his base honesty, but did not deny its effect. Bringing her legs up carefully around him, she gripped the bedhead and held herself just above his mouth. It was hardly the most romantic position, but looking down at him, she saw that his eyes were alight with wonder and lust.

"Fuck, just let me look at you. Gods, you are perfect, you are so fucking beautiful."

Hermione shook her head lightly in wonder. Never before, even with the myriad of sexual experience she'd had, had she come across someone so primal and explicit in their need and pleasure. It was a complete delight. She was not sure she would always want such a straightforward lover, but right now, she was delighting in his sexual frankness.

Scorpius had parted her pussy lips with his fingers and was peering at her as if she was a scientific specimen. Hermione was entranced. It was hardly a part of the body she considered the most aesthetically pleasing, but the boy's rapt study of her at such close proximity brought her a pride and confidence which would have been hard to engender any other way. He was completely enrapt of all her body had to offer.

"OK, now .. down."

With that he suddenly gripped her hips and pulled her down onto him. Scorpius plunged his mouth upon her, devouring her completely. He pulled her upon him, rubbing himself hard against all she was. Hermione exhaled in wonder. He had no hang-ups, no concerns, no qualms about what he was doing. He simply wanted her.

For some time Scorpius continued to hold her against him. Pleasure was flowing through her, but Hermione began to be a little concerned that he could not breathe. She tried to pull up, but he held her down, rubbing himself ever harder upon her. She groaned as a surge of pleasure gripped her.

Then at last, he pushed her up, drawing in a shuddering breath of air. But almost immediately, his hands held her hard and pulled her down once again onto him. He nuzzled and sucked, licked and feasted. Hermione gave up worrying about his oxygen intake. The concerted actions of his tongue told her he was still well-focused on his task. It did not take long for her ecstasy to rise to a pinnacle from where there was no return.

Gripping the bedhead, she could not stop herself grinding down upon him as she came hard, her thighs squeezing together around his head as the pleasure moved through her. "Oh my god! That is so good, so good ... coming so hard, so hard ..."

Only when her body had slackened did he push her up a little and draw a long deep breath, but still he held her close and allowed his tongue to seek back to where the confirmation of her ecstasy clung wet and heavy upon her. "Fuck, I wish I could bottle your taste. Something to remember you by ... so damn delicious."

His delight in something which could otherwise be considered so degrading and filthy thrilled Hermione. She moved down the bed and kissed him hard, wanting to share something of what he had been through. She tasted herself strong upon his mouth: curious.

Hermione moved to lie beside him again. They did not speak for some time, but lay in quiet contentment. Her hand smoothed over his torso. "You have such a beautiful body."

"Thanks," he said, no conceit in his voice. He spoke with factual, polite acknowledgement.

Her hand found his cock, huge and hard, still craving her. She rubbed along it, using the considerable pre-cum which had already leaked from the tip as lubrication. Her fist gripped it hard and swirled over it, picking up speed and strength. He hissed and arched up.

"Suck it." He did not expect her not to. She knew that before the Malfoys she would have abandoned a man who had spoken to her like that, but his voice contained no malice, no arrogant presumption even, he was simply expressing a need he knew they both wanted. She moved swiftly down to it and gazed at it briefly, as he had gazed upon her.

He waited patiently. He knew she was going to deliver; he could wait while she soaked up the sight before her.

And then she moved. Almost desperately, Hermione opened her mouth wide and took him full and deep immediately.

"Fuuuckkkk!" His groan rose loud and hard and he pushed up into her instinctively as pleasure seized him.

Sucking in her cheeks, she dragged slowly along him, pulling in her lips to run over the rim of the head, her tongue then finishing off the journey by licking along the ever-dripping slit.

"Shit, you bitch! Do that again!" She knew he used the word more in endearment than anything. As never before, it gave her a perverse thrill. The earthy animal pulse of this man electrified her. She craved his cock as she had only craved his grandfather's before him. With a compulsive moan, she lowered her full lips onto it again and took it deep into her throat. She had had plenty of practice; his cock had similarities to plenty of others she knew – it was not difficult.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah ... hold it there, hold it there. Let me feel that ... fuck, fuck!"

When Hermione at last pulled up, her gasp for air was accompanied by a laugh of sheer delight at his expression of pleasure.

"Back, go back ... suck it hard, take it into your throat again. I want to do that ... I want it ..." He was barely forming words.

She moved back onto him, taking him as deep as she could before pulling back up and swirling nimbly around the head with her lips and tongue. He moaned out, barely able to focus on her.

"Move around, move up here. I wanna touch you. I wanna make you feel like you're making me."

Keeping his cock in her mouth, Hermione wriggled round, presenting her rump to him. Soon enough, fingers were parting her folds, still sodden from before. He had found her clit in no time and swept along it. She jerked against the flesh in her mouth, causing him to groan again. His fingers moved and he pushed two, maybe three into her, stroking and fluttering around deliciously. Hermione moaned again, reapplying herself to pulling out his ecstasy.

"Gotta come together, come on, come on ..." It was as if he was coaxing them both. His attention to her, far from distracting her from her task, was making her apply herself ever more ardently. She pulled at his cock as if starved, taking it deep each time and then drawing her mouth tight back up it and letting her tongue swirl avidly around the head. Meanwhile his fingers and thumb plied her clit and pussy until she could stand it no more.

She moaned around his cock as her body girded itself, sucking him hard and tight. It was enough for Scorpius who came convulsively, his seed shooting into her in great hot bursts. As she took his pleasure she released her own, her body juddering from his fingers right up to the cock held tight between her lips.

Hermione swallowed him immediately. She did not make as big a show of it as she usually did with Lucius, she suspected Scorpius would just accept it.

As she at last moved off him, he smiled over at her, his body still panting with pleasure. "I hope I taste as good as you do."

She laughed a little, but gave no verbal response. He wasn't his grandfather. Some things were sacred.

It was still some time before either of them could move. Eventually, Hermione raised herself from him with a sigh and lightly kissed his chest. "I really really have to go now. I'll be in trouble if I don't get back."

"From a guy?"

He asked factually, not remotely bothered whether she had anyone or not.

"No. Nothing like that."

She smiled then started to turn from him. His hand suddenly came up to hold her back.

"Hey! You never actually told me your name."

She looked at him steadily. Now that it was over, there was no harm ...

"Hermione."

He exhaled a slight laugh of amazement. "You're kidding."

She shook her head. "Why?"

"Well, it's just ... that's not a very common name, and ..."

"And what?"

"Well, it's weird but, like ... my dad and my grandfather were talking once, a couple of years ago, about this girl that they'd both kind of ... had, shared even I guess. She was my grandfather's lover, and ... my dad had shagged her too, a few times ... with my grandfather's consent, like ... almost at his instigation. I mean, I know sex is really important to them both. They both look really good for their age – women are always hanging off them at parties. Grandfather's married in name only now. Grandmother lives abroad most of the time. I know what you must think – what a pair of horny bastards! But, y'know ... respect to them really! To give him his due, I think dad stopped seeing her when he got together with mum. I think she's still Grandfather's lover. I think she might even have had ... " His voice trailed off. Hermione did not press him. "I dunno ... They're very discreet about it really but they did talk about her one night when we were all a bit pissed at Grandfather's house. Apparently she was just ... incredible, I mean like ... unbelievable in bed."

Hermione simply let him continue despite the tingling over her skin.

"But ... the thing is ... she was called Hermione too."

Hermione drew herself up and smirked down at him. "Fancy that, Mr Malfoy."

He looked at her. "I never told you my last name."

"Indeed you didn't."

His features were suddenly frozen, his eyes darting across her face in amazement. "Where have you come from?"

"I told you ... somewhere else."

Hermione got up, cleansed with a charm and dressed carefully. The young man on the bed had fallen silent and simply watched her.

She walked over to him, leant over and kissed him deep once again. He returned it with a tender intensity which until now had been lacking. Pulling back, she fixed her eyes into his and grinned. "It has been a great, great pleasure. In true family tradition ... you did not disappoint. Your forebears will be very proud."

Hermione pulled away and moved back from him. Strong fingers encircled her wrist unexpectedly and tightly, holding her back. She looked down. He was staring up at her with a suddenly revealed burning passion. He was indeed his father's son, his family's heir. Hermione smiled warmly. "Goodbye, Scorpius Malfoy."

And then, in full view of him, she carefully withdrew the Time-Turner. His eyes flashed as he beheld the object. She knew he recognised what it was immediately.

With a flick of the glass orb, Hermione disappeared from the room.

A week after Hermione came back from her time travel to Oxford, Lucius returned to Britain. He and Hermione had arranged to spend his first night back in their regular hotel in London, and they found themselves skipping the dinner they usually had to make love as soon as they could be alone. As they lay afterwards in the bed, their limbs holding each other as tight as possible, he kissed her forehead gently.

"What have you been up to while I've been away?"

"Nothing much, apart from one assignment."

"Oh?"

"Hm."

She teased him with her silence.

"Are you going to tell me willingly, or do I have to extract my wand to elicit any more from you?"

"That depends on what you intend to do with your wand," she smirked.

"Oh, my dear, you know better than to muse on the possibilities of that."

She sniggered and buried her head in his chest. "Shacklebolt sent me on a mission to lecture some students in order to negate the effects of a hex."

"Oh. How desperately tedious."

"It could have been ... but it happened to be twenty years in the future."

"Really?"

"Hm. I used a Time-Turner and travelled to 2020 for half a day."

"And?"

"VAT's still at 20%."

He sighed exaggeratedly. "What else?"

"I met your grandson."

"Scorpius?"

"Hm. He was one of the students. He was about twenty two, I suppose."

"Carry on." Lucius' voice had gained an edge of intrigued awareness.

"He's doing very well. Bright student. Polite, accommodating ... attractive."

"Attractive?"

"Very."

There was a pause.

"You had him."

"Yes."

Lucius looked down at her, his face unreadable, but as she held his gaze, his mouth twitched into a smile and he inclined his head to kiss her tenderly. "Was it good?"

"Very good."

He deepened the kiss. "Strange, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Every time you fuck another member of my family, I love you even more."

He had moved around and was inside her before the end of his sentence.

"He talked about me ... not knowing who I was. He said he thought we were still lovers, you and I."

Lucius brow was furrowed as he concentrated on the pleasure he was drawing from them both.

"Lucius ..."

He could only moan as he moved inside her.

"I want a baby."

He paused only momentarily before continuing his strokes. Hermione was confident enough to continue. "I do not ask you to divorce, I will not expect you to be there with me as a normal family, but I want a child. I want your child."

Lucius stopped and looked down at her. Suddenly, he pulled out and moved away, reaching swiftly for his wand. For the first time in their long relationship, Hermione feared she had gone too far, feared she had pushed him away. But gently and tenderly, Lucius came back to her and held the tip of his wand over her belly.

"Concepcio libera."

Hermione could not prevent her eyes dampening immediately. She knew the charm. It eradicated any contraceptive charms which had previously been cast and brought a woman's body back to fertility.

Immediately, Lucius entered her again and pushed fully up into her.

"Lucius ..."

"You are ours, my love, you know it. How can a child born of such belonging be anything other than magnificent? I will support and love you and I will support and love our child."

Hermione let his words wash over her and his body move inside her. As she released her pleasure in synchronicity with the burst of his seed within her, she knew all was good. To bear the fruit of this family ... it would be her greatest triumph.

Deep sigh.

It's nice to have it back, I have to say.

Head over to my profile page for the rest of the series and links to more of my writing, both fan fiction and original works as Demelza Hart.

LL x