Lucius watched her with a twist to his lips — like a hawk staring down a field mouse.

"My wife tells me that you have a partially-functioning reproductive system," he said, as if discussing the weather over tea. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

Hermione felt her cheeks blush crimson as she tried to think of a response.

"And might I ask, Miss Granger," he said, hands still behind his back as he strolled towards her, "whether it was your intention to carry the Malfoy heir by concealing this? Did you believe a pregnancy would bring you additional protection?"

Her eyes popped, and her breath choked in her throat.

"N-no! No, not at all!" She gaped at him, trying to form coherent words. "It was made perfectly clear from the beginning that I had no cause for concern in… in that area. There was no need to mention it!"

"Hmm," he drawled. "And yet, my poor chaise begs to differ."

"No, we're not— This wasn't—" Hermione squeezed her face in her hands. "This hasn't— before."

"Before?"

"No! This was the first!" Lucius's eyebrow raised even further, and Hermione groaned, shaking her head. "This hasn't ever! I swear it. It just — no."

A long pause.

"Excellent," Lucius said dryly. "Your eloquence continues to impress, Miss Granger."

Hermione pressed her eyes closed as he brushed past her, wishing her embarrassment could swallow her whole.

"One last thing." Hermione took a deep breath before turning to face him. "I expect you to take preparation for Friday evening seriously. If my son is unable to focus"—he looked her up and down, as if he couldn't find that believable in the least—"I'll have your bedroom moved. Next to my study."

She stood, dumbfounded by his meaning, until suddenly it dawned on her. She jerked forward. "Of course we'll—

Lucius silenced her with a raised hand. She bit her lip, her cheeks burning impossibly hot. And then: "To your room, Miss Granger. I expect to find you fully Occluded the next time I lay my eyes on you." His eyes dropped to her bare knees. "And fully clothed."

Her face was on fire as she scurried through the door, relishing her dismissal and longing for the days when Lucius Malfoy was in Romania.

~*~

The next morning, three new Occlumency books arrived on her breakfast tray. There wasn't a note. There didn't have to be one. She knew better than to seek him out, so she locked herself away and studied. The only breaks she took were to force down a few bites of each meal, as Mippy had charmed the tray to start nudging her if she ignored it for too long.

On Friday morning, after countless careful hours of meditation and mentally slicing pages out of books, Narcissa came to visit her when Hermione was deep in her Occlumency.

"I know you must be nervous for this evening."

Hermione nodded, her mind beginning to prick with reemerging memories. Grey eyes and rolling hips, a silky voice and hot wave of embarrassment—