DISCLAIMER: Hp belongs to Jkr. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property.


Wedding Bells

"Ah, I see." Hermione was quiet. She looked deep inside her heart and knew that it was the right thing to do.

"Strange, but The Prettiest is a complex individual that appeals to me on a deeper level. Now, if he wants to marry me, he cannot be that prejudiced. Can he be?"

Both Weasley nodded in agreement; it was what Ron had argued with Harry and his family, precisely.

"Okay, after I talk to his solicitors I will decide, I don't want any surprises. I want Bill to be with me when I talk to them. I also want my solicitor there as well. Lydia, please call Smith and arrange the meetings. Tell Lucius what I said, namely that I cannot agree until I discuss the terms."

Someone knocked at the door, Ron went to open it, wand in hand. They always stayed vigilant; after all, they were still attacked once in a while.

He opened and found two professionally attired young wizards; they both had the Malfoy emblem embroidered on their lapels. They carried a large vase with a flower arrangement of dark red roses, and a box gift wrapped along with a smaller box, "For Miss Granger, "Ron turned to the witches and grinned.

They were from Lucius; the small box was full of dog biscuits; she had talked about her dogs, and he'd listened. The flowers had a card and a smaller box. The card was just signed in a fancy script, Lucius. In the box she found a brooch, a gold snake, in amazing detail, and the big box contained a light wrap, she had never seen something so pretty, it was knitted lace; a card was inside, "You were chilly last night, the brooch will keep it in place, Lucius."

Lydia shook her head in awe. "Exquisite…yet a wizard of few words." Star-eyed, Hermione nearly whispered. He had noticed how cold she'd been the night before with the silk wrap for cover.

"Enough there, down," her cairn were climbing up her leg, she opened the box and gave each a biscuit that grew, when out the box, to the size of their heads. A great gift since Ermi was intent in fighting the cairns for the dog toy. The biscuits were a hit, so great that they sat to guard the high table where she'd placed them.

The week flew by in seconds. The next day, Sunday, she met with the solicitors and Bill went with her. After the reading, she was speechless. The terms were simple; the children would be Malfoy and educated in the wizarding way; no birth control until she was 35, unless there were more than three children, then it could be reviewed; she was free to work, but only in the morning, if in the afternoon, she could work from home. The next one made her smile, he wanted to share bedrooms, but she could have her private office, no divorce, etc.

According to Bill, the first part was standard, but as for the work and the bedroom, he'd wondered where and in what century Lucius had lived, Bill whispered his comments to her.

She'd have a yearly stipend, for personal expenses, of 2,500,000 Galleons, even Bill gasped at this. An initial vault of 4,000,000 Galleons, with increases of 5,000,000 per year. The funds did not include her allowances for clothing, jewelry since she had open accounts at all the Wizarding establishments, etc.… Each child would get the same since birth, to be put away in individual vaults. There was more about the Malfoy jewels, properties, and the such…and much more.

Bill joked, "I'd volunteer to marry Malfoy, but I guess he wants a witch." She wasn't so sure that he was joking, Fleur and him both liked 'variety.' She should know after being approached by both more than once, joking, without a doubt? Or, hmm.

"Hands-off dearie, he is spoken for. As for the money, officially, each of my partners will have a bonus 80,000 Galleons now, and 90,000 when I get the extra each year." Bill gave her an emotional hug, "Thanks, partner, I am finding it hard to believe. Wait till Fleur hears about it; Charlie will be, ahem, never mind."

She figured that there was more than enough for everyone. If she were right, the Galleon exchange rate was related to the price of gold, and with the rising prices, wow. Equal portions would go to the orphanage, to the Center, to the reconstruction projects, to her friends, and to other pet projects of hers.

As Bill had stated, what expenses would she have when all would be paid by Lucius, according to the contract. She reasoned that it was ideal, a way to turn dark earnings to reconstruct the world that he had helped destroy.

They all chuckled and concurred. The terms didn't say anything about friends and the such but assumed that all would be fine, probably an oversight. Although the contract stated that all her free time was for Lucius, it seemed doable. Surely, she could squeeze others in their lives, at least she hoped so.

She signed, and to her chagrin, she never saw Lucius since he'd excused himself. He sent her an owl about having to see Draco and to accept his regrets. He stayed away until Friday.

Many boxes arrived during the following days. Modistes, seamstress, shoe makers, all came to measure her for wedding robes and other, as agreed, witches robes for the Wizarding world and outings. She also received a ring with the Malfoy crest, and some other jewels to 'compliment' her wedding clothes.

She was assigned press agents, three personal assistants, and bodyguards, several, who now camped at her now magically enhanced living room; and let's not forget, two house elves to take care of her needs, and her ever growing staff. She shrugged her shoulders and let it happen, her life had changed, and her dogs were gaining weight from all the treats.

Photographers from all over the world came and took pictures of her, her work partners, her closest friends, and even her dogs. The worldwide Wizarding world wanted to know; it was to be expected since Lucius was as close as a Royal as they had.

The heroine, the uncrowned Light's princess marrying the darkest and number one single of their world, was the stuff of legends.

Her parents were unreachable. Apparently, they had gone on an adventure tour, currently exploring the Amazon Jungle, and because a quirk on meteorological conditions, were unreachable via their satellite phones.

It didn't surprise her; long ago, she had stopped questioning their efforts never to share her magical world. She was driven to and from places by chauffeurs in expensive cars as if that were a substitute for parental company. They liked to live obscure lives, and she let it go even if it hurt.

As for Fleur and Bill, they 'tried' up to the day before the wedding. "How about It partner, the last chance for the three of us to 'play' together, are you game?" Both looked at her expectantly until she broke out in a guffaw, and they joined half-heartedly. She knew they were asking for real, but even if, she treasured their friendship too much to risk damaging it.

Charlie hugged her after the party her friends gave her, her eyes were moist, but for the first time in a long while, it no longer hurt. There had been too much heartbreaks, broken dates, waiting for him, and, mostly, knowing that he was lying. "I know that it is my own fault, and I am too late. So sorry that I was such a fool and wouldn't listen to anyone."

Molly heard him and told Arthur, "Yes, he was a fool, and we lost her as well." Both dried tears for what could have been. First, Ron had given up, he didn't say why, but they suspected the reason; and Charlie had thrown away the chance.

Molly decided that she wouldn't lose her chance. The young witch was close to her, and she'd be there for her, filling for her always absent parents. As the years went by, she loved the witch even more. "Arthur, we are lucky that fate gave us a second daughter, a good loving daughter." She said, quite often.

Lately, both parents were disappointed with Ginny, the queen of clubbing, who was developing a Pureblood racist attitude. Moreover, she behaved as she were ashamed of their financial standing.

She was the only one of their children who didn't contribute to either the orphanage nor to the household expenses. It hurt Molly who had always treated her as the apple of her eye. She came to the party for five minutes, only to excuse herself and to make derogatory comments.

Harry behaved like an ass all evening, drank too much, and actually had a fisticuff with Ron. "He is going to cause untold trouble for her, what a selfish block. A hero he might be, but he's been immature and thoughtless as far as Hermione is concerned; plus, he messed it for Ron. Now, as it stands, Harry might very well precipitate another war." Bill predicted accurately.

Nobody disagreed, Harry 'the damaged' had decided that the world owed him much.

At the Wedding -

Closing Doors-

Their wedding was no small affair; it was attended by over 400 guests. 'Unhappy Harry,' as Ron now called him, gave her away, not without harrumphing until they stepped into the chapel. "If you were so keen to marry, why didn't you ask me?"

She ignored him; Harry might not be ready to marry for eons; he just hated Lucius. Had he meant it, maybe so, but he didn't. If he'd said something that very second, she would have called the wedding off.

Hermione actually held her breath; teen Hermione waited for the words she had long to hear forever; maybe he was going to ask her? She waited with bated breath, but, sadly, he didn't ask, and that door forever closed slam!

During the entire ceremony, Harry never stopped giving Lucius dirty looks. His childish behavior was duly recorded and printed for the world at large to read and see, raising speculations; and was later used to substantiate terrible allegations. He forgot that he was a public figure and to behave accordingly. He more or less ruined the occasion. He behaved so poorly that Ron stared at him with great disappointment.

Hermione was afraid that she had made a great mistake, Lucius had only kissed her forehead after the vows. When she'd tried to get close to him, he'd moved away quickly; gods had she messed up big time.

Harry noticed and mouthed, magically, so she heard it loud and clear, "I told you so. Icy, an iceberg, and you are the Titanic about to sink. Let's run away now." Now he meant it, she heard it in his tone, too bad that it was twenty minutes too late.

Later at the party, he kept accosting her, whispering, "Please my love; let's run away, this very instant. We can leave for the continent and hide; we're both rich, it will be easily done; who needs magic."

He followed her and repeated versions of the same. He kissed her inappropriately, three times, which made Ron take him to the side to threaten him. Molly hugged her more than once seeing her distress.

Hermione looked at him like he was mad. He wasn't, he was just angry and selfish, which was a dangerous combination. He thought that being her first —let's not forget breaking her heart and tearing her life apart—had given him claims of ownership; but he was wrong, so very mistaken, his window of opportunity had closed, forever.

The Frozen Groom

The guests had left, and Lucius was in his private room, sweating and twisting his hands. He was feeling things that he'd never had before.

He smelled his hand where she had touched him and breathed in deeply. Her slight scent reached him, and his erected sex throbbed. Shudders ran through him. He wanted her so bad that it was hard to breathe; he had to open his trousers and put his hand around 'it.'

Way back then, he'd seldom touched himself; no need because he'd visited Narcissa's room once per week, or twice when allowed. He had his own room since she hadn't agreed to share rooms; she thought it plebeian. He accepted it; after all, he wasn't so interested. He'd assumed that he was like that.

Once in a while, he'd touched himself, but since he met the witch years before, it was more often than not. He'd found out that he was interested, very much so; but only for the witch. Yes, even when he was still married. It'd worsened the moment when she shook his hand at the trials; he remembered, "Mr. Malfoy…" while she'd held his hand firmly.

Her small hand, soft and warm on his that. He could recall the shock experienced when a current of desire had traveled from his hand to right 'there.' And for the second time ever, he'd been hard from zero to 100%. And he, the fool that he was, had only lowered his head in acquiescence looking like an arrogant snob.

Afterward, he hadn't washed his hand for days and cast a preserving spell; he wore his gloves for the remainder of the trial. He just needed her scent, a whiff, and he was ready. Narcissa noticed, "What are you doing smelling your hand and wearing gloves all the time? Ah, yes, she shook your hand. I knew it; you want Miss Granger. Great, misery loves company." And she laughed nastily; he hadn't care one bit.

It had been the same whenever they went out, he was painfully hard, and all he wanted was her hand on his, err, on' it,' okay on his cock. That was why Draco teased him because of his lack of vocabulary.

"Father, nobody, says 'it,' or 'there,' it is a cock, a prick, a dick, and many other names; although technically, it is a penis, which is better than 'it.' First, you don't say the 'ahem,' or 'the that,' but bollocks or balls. Moreover, you weren't excited; you were either hot or hard; by the way, it is not 'her releases,' but she is wet. Stop it, no, no, don't make those faces." And then he would laugh mischievously. Draco would be outrageous to make him laugh.

He'd gone to see Draco because he needed help to get ready for tonight; oh yes, he needed help. He'd given him advice all week and, as usual, Draco had made him laugh. He even tried to show him how to be sneaky and touch her as if it were an accident. He basically gave him a crash course in sex education and how to give your witch pleasure.

Draco had sent him ready for today. Ha, ha, ha, thus far, he'd not followed his advice, not once, starting by 1- not holding her in his arms afterward; 2- not kissing her a few times during and after the wedding. Kissing, yes, indeed, how he had wasted all his training effort; he was a failure. He admonished himself, Kissing, that was some of the most wasted advice ever. You didn't even try, you ninny. You didn't. Draco told you, again and again, there was a way to tonight. Why did you go to see Draco and rehearsed over and over? You ignored what you memorized. It should have stated by a well placed hot kiss, short but loaded; followed by lowering his hand a bit, accidentally, caressing her breast or her bum; then helping her undress and so on.

What a disaster, instead of being the loving and sexy groom, he had behaved as if he were made out of wood. Come to think; Potter had kissed her like he was the groom, he counted the kisses, once by the altar, and then thrice more. Hmm, that won't do. He thought, pursing his lips.

He kept going over the last week. When he took his bride to dance, as suggested by Draco, just the thought that he would be able to embrace her, had his cock throbbing. He relived the moment over and over. Before dancing, he'd secretly felt his tight trousers, and they were wet, very wet. His cock was pulsing on sync with his heartbeat. He nearly came when she touched his hand; then she wrapped her hand over his; with the continued contact, his bollocks tightened, and pleasure ran up his groin; the feel of her silky back made him groan; a good thing that the music muffled the sound. Her fragrance made him drunk, and his heart was about to burst. Yes...and he took her home...and ran away like the coward he was.

Now, right this second, he could already see her naked breasts and could easily imagine his tongue doing what? Is licking proper, will she allow me to do it, could I suck them like hard candy? Gods. The memories and thoughts were making him painfully hard. He moved his hand, stroking himself absently.

She could never know how much he wanted her, and he wasn't sure what she expected. What craziness, the irony of it all, the evil Death Eater, ex-Muggle hater, had married for love, correction, he was madly in love. He had learned everything about her, knew of each of her lovers and wanted (still did) to hex each one of them. Potter was first on his hit list; one day he would pay. He knew of Harry's egregious sin, not many did, but he had sources; true that he had been young, but it didn't excuse him.

He had hired someone to do the job, and he had to call it off after he consulted with Draco, who wrote 'Father, knowing her I'd advise you not to do it, she'll hate you for it. She is a master sleuth and will find out. You need to know about her. She loves and will always love the two fools, her bodyguards, and she'd not be forgiving.'

Finally, he was desperate enough that he decided to approach Lydia. He knew of their close friendship, but he had no idea how to ask for Hermione. So imagine my surprise to find her there. I was hard when I saw her legs in the tiny skirt; I couldn't breathe, much less speak. I was afraid that they would notice. Gods, her sweet floral fragrance, I could smell her perfume; it made me dizzy.

He was a fool, that kiss on the forehead after their vows when he had wanted a real kiss, albeit not sure what that entailed. When his bride had come wanting closeness, he'd moved away. He thought, Afraid, I was afraid… scared that I would ravish her in front of everyone…that I would turn into a beast for everyone to see. Wouldn't that had been something?

Knock, knock, "Hello?"

It's her, gods, and I haven't undressed. I am a living icicle, a solid block made by fear, the most potent freezing charm. What did Draco tell me, what? No pajamas? No shoes? A shower? Wet or dry? Fuck, I don't remember. And should I stand, lay, or sit? I wish that he was here. Say something, damn it!

"Lucius I am tired and going to bed. I'll try to stay awake, can you hear me?" A pause, "Oh, if you..never mind, very well, good night."

No, he said nothing, he needed to be put out of his misery. He was a sorry excuse for a groom.

Hermione's eyes were tearing. Indeed, she had messed up. She remembered. She had planned to ravish him, Fleur and she, laughed planning the seduction, Bill had peaked and said not so teasingly, "Are you two planning something naughty like a witch on witch? I hope so; those laughs were rather lewd. If so, please include me, I am your wizard," he'd meant it, that was Bill. Both witches knew him and looked at each other.

He was uncomfortable when they laughed louder, and he appeared suspicious, "On second thought, ah, hmm, never mind, keep me out," and left quickly. They laughed for a while.

Fleur had helped her to buy sexy underthings. They went to a little shop that Fleur knew. For tonight she chose a demure short gown, demure compared to the others. She justified because it was a little chilly in the large bedroom.

Her bad dogs were in their baskets in the dressing room; they had two beds, one in the room. Tonight, they chose the dressing room's since the kneazles had climbed on an armoire. Unfortunate felines, those BDs (bad dogs) considered them mortal enemies.

She sat over the bed cover, still hoping, every minute was sheer agony.

A few minutes later she was surprised, the door opened, and Lucius came in. He wore an old fashion night-robe and probably long pajama bottoms. Next, she looked at his feet; her heart accelerated, seeing that his feet were bare, long slender feet.

He went to his side of the bed and sat on the edge, away from her. He was going to dim the Muggle lights that had installed, Led strips (modified), in every room when he modernized the manor two years earlier.

She decided to take charge, nothing gained by just waiting for him to make the first move; she had noticed how tense he was. Poor baby, my dear Prettiest, so very shy. Her face changes from distressed to naughty as she crawled her way to him. She was in warrior mode.

A/N Poor, or is it lucky Lucius, :) in love forever.