Progression
Just APenniless Writer

Standard Disclaimer Applies

Author's Plea: These short-shorts were written for the multifandom stagesoflove community on livejournal -- a marvelous place you should visit if you have a chance. Two rounds of five, divided by stage with title following. Enjoy if you can.

Part 1: Stages of Love

I. Attraction: Something to Report

"I don't see any Dark items I need to report today, Mr. Malfoy," she states as she has every month for the last three years.

Three years... Thirty six supervised visits to Malfoy Manor. While she understands the conditions of Lucius Malfoy's release from Azkaban require a monthly search for questionable objects, she has never figured herself for leading said search for so long. How odd that what began as a favor to Harry -- who was rightly worried about bribery -- has quickly become one of the highlights of her month.

"As you never have and never will see anything to report, Miss Granger."

She smirks slightly, knowing the ambiguous wording could so easily work to his advantage. She gives him points for it, even as she mentally catalogues that statement for future reference.

"Perhaps."

He returns her smirk before he releases it in an almost unseen sigh. The simple motion makes every sign of his age all but obvious. But then, time is stealing away her youth everyday as well.

"Will the Ministry ever cease to be interested in the contents of my home? Will you?"

The bored and suggestive voice almost masks the underlying plea of his question. While she is hesitant to believe he can plead, she still feels obliged to comfort him. Then, she has been feeling obliged to grant him favors for some time now.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, you know I only come for the view."

The double entendre is not intended but not revoked. He does not smile, but the lines forming around his thin lipped expression show the first bit of honest goodness she has ever witnessed in the man. She likes it. She likes it a lot. The itch torturing the corner of her mind for the last few months is elevated to a spark.

"Very well, Miss Granger. Perhaps I will have something for you to find next month."

"I look forward to it. Good day, Mr. Malfoy."

As she Apparates away, flanked by the two guards Harry still insists follow her, she realizes that whatever respect she has been nurturing for Lucius Malfoy has morphed quickly into something more, something quite unexpected.

II. Romance: Incorruptibility

Harry had asked her to do this favor five years ago because she was the only one he could trust to search the residence thoroughly without buying into the Malfoy charm and fortune. She tries to think of that, remember how such trust felt, and summon the strength of character necessary to throw out the flowers before she is led down a path she dare not tread.

My, but they are such pretty flowers.

Whereas an obvious gift of bribery such as jewelry or money would have been returned immediately with a rather pointed letter, the flowers seem to mock her with their supposed sincerity.

But Hermione won't be fooled. If she has taken anything of importance from her three failed marriages, it is that flowers from a man inevitably only mean one of two things: he wants something from her or he has wronged her.

She can't think of anything Lucius Malfoy would apologize for.

With a sigh, she drops the flowers into the bin. She can't afford to accept them no matter how far he has gone towards becoming a Decent Human Being. Not when she is so very aware of the twinge in her heart at receiving something from him. It would be so easy to be tempted, not for the money but for the man. Two years of curious glances and vague statements are beginning to wear on her. Despite his past, despite her position, despite herself, he could so easily be the next man she loves. Too easily.

The card, inscribed in a flowing script with her name, lands to the side of the bin. Picking it up, she knows she should throw it away with the rest of the gift.

She doesn't.

III. Passion: A Civil Matter

The cognac is intoxicating even before it hits her palate. However, that could have just as easily be an effect of his predatory stare from across the parlor.

"My, Miss Granger. You do appear taller when flanked by your guards."

She swallows thickly, gathering her wit for a response.

"It is for your benefit that I did away with them today. I feel this is a civil matter that should be dealt with in private. Or would you rather I not extend the courtesy?"

"The contrary, I assure you."

There is an uncomfortable pause, prompting her to take a drink from her glass if only to break the tension. His eyes follow her movements. Finally, when she can stand the silence no more, she decides bluntness is perfectly suitable.

"You have been sending me gifts," she states plainly.

"And you have been rejecting them," he answers in a similar tone. She smirks in response. He empties his glass before rising to refill it.

"You would do well not to deny me," he says without turning to face her.

"Is that a threat, Mister Malfoy?"

He turns and smirks in all the full glory of his younger days, and it is enough to engage her sensibilities.

"You would do well not to threaten me," she says stiffly, striding toward him with purpose. Let it never be said she wasn't brave, she thinks before pushing her glass against his chest. His hand goes to steady it, to ensure none of the brandy stains his attire. However, it is not only the glass he touches.

The civil and professional distance they have always kept from each other is irrevocably ended. She is certain the touch of his fingers on hers will be felt for eternity.

"I do not accept bribes," she says honestly, doing her best to keep her tone level.

"You will accept this," he replies with certainty allowing his fingertip to trace her knuckle.

It is the first time her report on the Dark Arts contents of the manor is turned in to Harry late. If he notices, he doesn't comment.

IV. Intimacy: These Exhausted Statements

He is remarkably silent while they couple, but decidedly less silent in those exhausted, exhilarated moments following. She finds it refreshing considering her other lovers, husbands included, whose energy to do anything but breathe was exhausted after an evening with her.

However, she can make no sense of his choice of topics. The oddest statements he makes, phrases she would have never imagined would have come from his mind, his lips.

"The whole world be damned," he whispers solemnly while letting her slip down from the wall.

"Rome did fall because of a woman," he says with a light smirk when she has finally removed herself from his lap.

"Had I but need to bribe you," he murmurs while loosening the ties on her wrists.

And she catalogues every statement, finds every meaning, and takes joy in discovering every facet of his personality.

Until he completely throws her off.

"You are immortality."

She catalogues it. She ponders it. She even researches it to no avail. When she finally asks him for an explanation, he looks at her with such sharpness that she wonders how she can't be cut by his expression alone.

"You are a clever girl," he responds. "Tell me then, why do people seek immortality?"

"Because they are afraid of death."

"And those that are not afraid of death?"

She frowns in contemplation before sending him a blank look.

"Legacy, my pet. They are afraid of not leaving a legacy."

"And I am your legacy?"

"Once they know what you have done, they will never forget."

She considers what he says long after she leaves. In the end, she decides he knows exactly how much he has revealed of his character.

V. Commitment: Two Rolled Parchments

When she sees the contract he has drawn up on the table as she walks in, Hermione can't pretend she isn't expecting it. Whatever his beliefs might have been, might still be, Lucius is not a stupid man and will take whatever opportunities are afforded to him.

She's already knows she'll sign her agreement. There is no use denying him, not when he's already discovered all her vulnerable spots, not when he has become a vulnerable spot of his very own.

However, she does wonder if he understands her sense of loyalty. As a dutiful wife, she knows she will excel. But her job as his keeper came long before they ever exchanged laden words, before they ever allowed touch. There are obligations remaining, and she intends to keep up with them.

And so she searches, with the same thoroughness as the first day she searched, his eyes following her through every room. And when she signs off on her report, she signs off on his contract and attaches the two together, rolls them firmly with a thick ribbon.

He smirks, but she knows he understands. They have enough secrets together, secrets not to be told beyond the manor walls. But the contents of that very manor are not her secrets to keep.

She smiles as she slips the thick parchments into her bag, idly questioning how one commitment became two. She questions how Harry will take this news, if he knew of its eventuality as well as she. She questions whether Lucius has told his former family of his intentions. His look suggests otherwise.

She questions how an arrangement like hers could have ever occurred, how she could have allowed herself to be tied to this criminal, this arrogant elitist.

He does not let her question for long.