Unsaid Desires
The castle seemed to hum with a familiar warmth as autumn leaves swirled outside the high windows of Hogwarts. Students bustled about in their usual excitement, but for Hermione, everything felt different. It wasn’t the hustle of school life or the weight of her new responsibilities as a professor that occupied her mind. It was him.
Lucian Malfoy.
For days now, she had been avoiding the full truth of what was happening between them, trying to rationalize it, to fit it into something logical. But each conversation with Lucian left her feeling more entwined, more pulled into his world—the world of a man long dead, now only living in the brushstrokes of an enchanted portrait.
In the evenings, after her lessons were over and the halls grew quiet, Hermione found herself drawn back to that corner of the castle, the one that housed Lucian’s portrait. She would tell herself each time that it would be the last, that she wouldn’t let herself get caught up in this impossible situation. But by the time she reached his portrait, her resolve would crumble. The magnetism between them was undeniable.
This evening was no different. She had tried to busy herself with lesson planning, with reading, with grading essays, but none of it could keep her mind away from Lucian. As she made her way down the quiet corridor, her footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor, her heart beating faster with every step.
Lucian was there, as always, leaning against the painted archway of his portrait, his gaze following her as she approached. There was something different in his eyes tonight—something more intense, as if he had been waiting for her, as if he knew that tonight, things might change.
“Hermione,” he greeted her, his voice smooth and warm, like a secret she couldn’t help but listen to.
She paused before him, her heart racing. “Lucian.”
He smiled, that slow, teasing smile she had come to know so well. But there was a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes, something that made her stomach flutter. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”
Hermione let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Hardly.”
“Good,” he replied, his gaze steady on hers. “Because I’ve been thinking about you.”
There it was again—that weight in his words, the undercurrent of something unsaid. Hermione’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain composed. “Thinking about me?”
Lucian’s smirk softened into something more sincere, his eyes never leaving hers. “I remember you, you know. From when we were students.”
Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. They had skirted around this before—Lucian’s hints about knowing her, about remembering their time at Hogwarts—but tonight, it felt different. More personal. More real.
“I wasn’t exactly hard to miss,” she said, her voice quieter now, suddenly unsure of where this conversation was going.
Lucian chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “No, you weren’t. But it wasn’t just because you were Harry Potter’s best friend or because of your brilliance. You… you stood out to me.”
Hermione blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “I did?”
His gaze softened, and for a moment, it was as if the portrait’s magic faded, leaving only the raw truth of his words. “I admired you, Hermione. More than you could’ve known.”
A silence fell between them, heavy and charged with unsaid emotions. Hermione’s heart raced as she tried to process what he was saying. Admiration. From Lucian Malfoy, of all people. A man who had lived in the shadows, secretive and enigmatic, watching her from afar during their school years. And now here he was, admitting to feelings that had been buried, feelings that could have changed everything if only she had known.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. “You never… I mean, we hardly spoke when we were students.”
Lucian’s expression grew thoughtful, his eyes darkening with something unreadable. “I wasn’t exactly in a position to show it, was I? With my family’s reputation, with everything that was happening during the war… I couldn’t afford to be seen caring about things that weren’t aligned with the Malfoy image. But that didn’t stop me from noticing you.”
Hermione’s throat tightened. She had spent so many years dealing with the consequences of the Malfoy name, the prejudice and animosity between their families, never once thinking that someone like Lucian could have seen her in a different light.
She felt a strange warmth flood her chest, a sense of something unresolved, something she had never expected to feel in relation to a Malfoy—especially one she had hardly known.
But before she could respond, Lucian’s gaze grew more intense, more vulnerable. “And now… now I regret not saying anything. When I had the chance.”
Hermione’s breath hitched, her heart racing as she stared into his eyes, eyes that held so much more than she had ever realized. She didn’t know what to say, her thoughts swirling with confusion, with a growing attachment she wasn’t ready to admit.
Lucian seemed to sense her hesitation, his expression softening as he stepped closer within the portrait, his voice low and sincere. “I’m not saying this to make things more difficult. I know how strange this is—how impossible.” He gave her a small, sad smile. “But I just thought you should know.”
Hermione’s chest tightened, her emotions warring inside her. This was impossible. Lucian was nothing more than an image, a memory of a man who had once lived. And yet… her heart didn’t seem to care. It beat faster every time she spoke to him, every time she saw the way he looked at her, the way he knew her.
The truth was, she was becoming emotionally attached, no matter how much she tried to deny it. And Lucian’s words, his quiet confessions, only made it harder for her to distance herself.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Lucian replied, his voice gentle. “I just wanted you to know the truth.”
Hermione swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest. The truth. The truth was that she was falling for him—this man who wasn’t really a man at all, this portrait that held the essence of someone she could have known, could have loved, in another life. But how could she admit that to herself, let alone to him?
As the silence stretched between them, Lucian’s gaze softened, his eyes filled with something that looked like understanding. “You’ve been through so much, Hermione. I’m not asking for anything from you. I just… I want you to know that I see you. I always have.”
Her heart twisted at his words, a wave of emotion crashing over her. She had been seen—by someone she never expected, in a way she never imagined. And in that moment, she realized just how much she had needed that.
But the reality of their situation loomed over her, heavy and impossible. Lucian was a portrait, a ghost of someone who once existed. And yet, his words, his presence, felt more real than anything she had experienced in a long time.
Hermione looked up at him, her emotions swirling in a storm of confusion, longing, and denial. She wasn’t ready to face what she was feeling—not yet.
But deep down, she knew the truth. No matter how much she tried to distance herself, no matter how much she denied it, her bond with Lucian was growing stronger with every passing day.
And with every lingering gaze, every unsaid desire, Hermione was slipping further into something she wasn’t sure she could come back from.