Chapter 21:
November 27th, 2017
"MERCIFUL MERLIN," came the shriek from within an office off the main corridor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, causing many to start from their afternoon induced stupors and fall out of their cubicles, wands drawn, looking for the disturbance.
Hermione Malfoy was perturbed. Scratch that. Hermione Malfoy was fucking ticked off and scared and nervous, but mostly hair-raisingly, ear-piercingly, blood-racingly angry.
"Detained by work my married arse," she grumbled to herself as she stuck a hand out and waved an ok at her coworkers. In her hands lay two separate sheaths of parchment, one an apology from her two BLOCKHEADED friends bowing out from a dinner, and the other, a warning notice from the Minister of Magic that her home would potentially be invaded that night.
"Thank Merlin for Kings," she murmured, frantically organizing her office so that she could leave early. Those men, no boys, are going down tonight. "Becky?" she called to her assistant.
"Yes, ma'am?" Hermione smirked, the poor assistant had been unsure how to name her and so went with the appalling Americanism to cover it up.
"I'm leaving. Clear my schedule. I don't think I'll be in for the rest of the week." Hermione said all this brusquely, knowing that most of her schedule was clear through the New Year when she would receive her new appointment.
"Bu- Oh! But ma'am! Oh alright then … I suppose I'll see you in a few days then!" The poor flustered assistant called after the quickly disappearing Hermione. 'You'll never work under another like her, she's a genius!' my arse. Bloody mad is wot she is, thought the young assistant in frustration.
Meanwhile at the Dittany Club …
Draco Malfoy sat back in his leather chair contentedly rubbing his full stomach. "That was a smashing meal. I'm quite full."
Lucius nodded, his eyes heavy from the satisfying repast. "I rather like this new addition to Diagon Alley; perfect for meetings of any sort." He nodded satisfied and the head waiter could have done an Irish jig at the sight of that nod – that was the Malfoy sign of approval, the restaurant was going to be a hit!
He crooked a finger at the joyful waiter, signaling for the after meal port and then turned back to Draco. "So, have you decided whether you'll go into business with the Weasley twin or not?"
Draco closed his eyes in an attempt to avoid the question, but let out a small sigh. Softly, he replied, "Yes, I have." He looked over at his father. "I've met with the man and we both feel it will be beneficial. Certainly there are bridges to be crossed and gaps to mend, but we believe we can be profitable. I'm to set up my apothecary next to his store. I'll be able to have my own business, but instead of paying rent to the man for the space, I'll be creating potions for his projects. In time, if we like, we may combine the two." Draco shrugged, "If not, so be it."
Lucius Malfoy nodded. "Seems like it is a sound proposition. I would ensure that you have it all on paper though. Hermione could help with that if you like. She'll be delighted that you two will work out. She's been rather worried about the whole thing." He shook his head at his wife's actions; however, Draco could see the fondness in his patriarch's eyes. Amazing, he thought to himself.
"It will of course be all outlined on paper, and I may just have her look over it." Draco tucked this idea away in his thoughts for later. "I still can't believe I'm going into business with a Weasley …" He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Lucius chuckled, "I know, son. However, this Weasley has proven to be Hermione's best friend as well as one of our society's prominent business owners. It is wise to make an alliance with him."
Draco smirked, "But of course." Glancing over his father's shoulder the smirk widened. "Speaking of Hermione," he drawled.
Lucius turned around to see his wife tumbling towards his table like a whirling dervish. Her hair was trailing after her, strewn from falling out of her chignon. Her navy velvet robes were half on over her crème suit, and she looked as though she was about to run straight out of her heels. He stood to intercept her, lest she upset the table or any other poor being that got in her way. He caught her by the arms to slow her and murmured hurriedly in her ear, "What on earth is wrong?!"
She looked up flustered, "Them! That's what's wrong! Those two blundering, bumbling idiots!" She hissed the last word out, surprising even Lucius with her anger.
He nodded placatingly and looked at Draco with regret, "If you'll excuse me …"
Draco grinned, "Of course. Another time, perhaps."
Hermione glanced at Draco with surprise, and nodded distractedly as she was led out by her husband, who quickly disapparated them both.
He strode them both commandingly into his study and turned to look at her, glaring. "Now tell me rationally what the hell is so bad that you had to rush into a gentlemen's club and interrupt my lunch."
She literally growled at him and contemplated throwing a lamp at him. "Well pardon me for not wanting you to get into any trouble! Next time I'll just take my sweet time when I know something that will affect your life DRASTICALLY!"
He sighed and lowered the tone of his voice, "Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that and you know it. You know how I am about public appearances and you've always respected that, just as I've respected your desire to lay low and be addressed by your maiden name in public."
She ran a hand over her face and sunk into the leather couch that was so conveniently behind her. "I know! I'm … oh I'm just so mad!" She lifted her head up and let Lucius see her strained face, "and I'm worried." She whispered the last bit quietly, as though afraid to even mention it out loud.
He shook his head and walked to her, sat down next to her and then pulled her into his lap. "Silly woman," he whispered into her hair, "you have nothing to worry about."
She shook her head and mumbled something into his chest. He smirked, "What was that darling? My ears are up here."
She nipped him lightly as a retort and lifted her head, taking a deep breath, "Harry and Ron are raiding the house tonight."
He almost unseated her. "THEY WHAT?!"
She nodded unhappily, "I know. Now we need to hide anything that will be considered dark …" She stood up and began to pace, listing things off silently on her fingers.
Lucius stayed seated, "I can't believe that despite my standing in the Ministry they would still raid here. Why on earth did the Minister allow the request?"
Hermione murmured distractedly, "Said it was time or something … whatever that may mean."
Lucius narrowed his eyes, "And I suppose you'll want the elves to hide all of your things and you'll be gone during this happy event?"
Hermione stopped pacing in shock, her stockinged toes clenching the Persian rug for support and her robe completely falling to the ground. "I … that is to say, you … well …" She shook her head in frustration, "Do you want me to go?" She tried to keep the fear and hurt from her voice, proud that it hadn't cracked.
Lucius looked at her as if she was insane and knew it was time to let go of his pride for a moment, "Woman, I no more want you to go than I want the Dark Lord to rise again." At her questioning look he growled, "Which is to say, over my dead body." He stood up and walked over to her, taking both her hands in his own and raising them to his lips for soft kisses, "Hermione, you. Are. My. Wife. I will never be ashamed of you. Angry, perhaps; frustrated, possibly; confused, always; bedazzled, every time you look at me; but never ashamed. I want to shout our relationship from the rooftops and proclaim it from the bell towers." He took a breath and looked into her misting eyes, "But I will continue to stay silent if that is what you want; because, above all else, I want you to be happy. If keeping this from your friends is what keeps you here with me, then so be it."
Hermione began to cry, big drops falling from her damp, dark eyelashes that framed loving eyes. "That's al-all I ever wan-wanted!"
Lucius looked down at her questioningly, hoping.
She whispered, unable to voice her deepest fears too loudly, lest they come true. "I don't want you to leave. I don't want them to scare you away and make you finally realize who you married. I want you all to myself, and I don't want things to change."
Lucius looked at her in amazement, "Hermione, if you don't know that I would go through the last two Wizarding wars to get to you, then I haven't been showing you how much I love you properly."
Hermione gave up the attempt at biting back sobs. "I hic know hic but I-I don-don't want yo-you to regret ittttt," she wailed.
He pulled her to him and tucked her head underneath his chin, allowing her to use his chest as a handkerchief. "We've both been bloody fools, that's what. Too scared of the possible bad that we forgot the amazing good."
"I may not say it a lot, and I can't promise I'll ever be highly emotional; but, Hermione Granger Malfoy, I am completely, insanely, and totally in love with you and no friend or foe of yours could ever stop me."
Hermione looked up at him, eyes strewn with tears and stared into his loving grey eyes, "Oh, I love you, yo-you big … man you!"
He chuckled, aware that they had just crossed something important, but willing to continue on without analyzing it further. "I am indeed a man, shall I show you just how much of a man I can be?" He dropped his voice an octave lower and felt her shudder against him, her eyes glazing over.
She pushed herself away dazed, "Not … not quite yet." She shook a finger and turned around to go summon the house elves, but turned to shoot him with a sultry glare, "but soon, Mr. Malfoy, soon."
The Manor was a flurry of activity for a full three hours, two hours during which Lucius sat quietly in his study contemplating the meaning of the night ahead, as well as the bridge he'd crossed earlier that afternoon. He'd been so scared of losing the one good thing in his life that he'd kept her at arm's length for almost sixteen years. He could slam his head into his desk for that.
After that incident in her office, they'd merely fallen into a pattern of lunches or dinners, generally with the excuse of business. Eventually they moved to either him staying over with her and Teddy, or when Teddy was with Harry for a night, she would stay at the Manor. Even when he'd asked her to marry him, he'd given her no heart rending declarations of love, believing that she wouldn't want them, and he'd been unsure of himself (not that he'd ever admit it).
As to keeping the marriage secret, he felt he'd been clear, but saw that perhaps his abhorrence of her friends could have been taken a different way. His refusal to join her at first the wedding of Ronald Weasley and the Brown woman and then Potter to the youngest Weasley would probably have looked as though he couldn't stand to be around her or her friends.
He was naturally aloof in other polite company and hesitant to show public affection, but she was the same. Perhaps …
"No," he said suddenly. Perhaps and maybe are roads to nowhere.
He glanced up and saw her propped up against the doorframe in a pair of silk lounging pants and one of his white buttoned down shirts, simply watching him with a thoughtful look on her face. He quirked an eyebrow and motioned her over, standing to pull her into a kiss.
She sauntered slowly over, ensuring that he saw the way the silk fluttered against her curves and highlighted the knickerless state she was in. He groaned and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her flush against him the moment she was in reach.
She chuckled huskily and looked at him with hooded eyes, "Husband, I've been a fool."
He smirked, "Yes, wife. Now how do you propose making that up to me?"
She rolled herself against his hard body and put a thoughtful look on her face, "I'm not quite sure …"
He growled, "Witch."
She uncharacteristically giggled as she pulled away with a naughty smile on her face, "I think we've rather established that fact, my love."
He reached to pull her back for a punishing kiss, but she wagged a finger at him, "Dinner first, my love. Then perhaps after we deal with the cretins, some dessert."
He heaved a sigh but nodded in agreement. "Are you wearing that to meet them in?"
She looked down and then back up at him with a frustrated look, "Well I'm not quite sure. I can't decide if I should go for classy or homey."
He smirked, always one for theatrics was his wife, "Well I rather like this outfit … much easier to take off."
She grinned, "That's what I thought as well."
He nodded, "In that case, I think I may go change into something more comfortable as well." He stepped past her and headed towards the staircase closest to their rooms. She followed, her soft steps in sync with his own. He took her hand in his and ran his thumb over hers lovingly.
She stared down at their entwined hands until he gave a little questioning cough. She looked up guiltily and grinned sheepishly, "We've just … we've never really held hands before. It's … it's nice, is all."
He laughed, the deep chuckles reverberating off the walls as they made their way up the stairs. "Oh the simple things in life."
She swatted him on the arm. "So tell me, you've got the formal robes on, who'd you have meetings with today?"
He ran a hand through his loose blonde hair, "Some of the Union delegates, just dealing with the transition once we receive the position publicly. Fastidious group, they are though."
She nodded and opened the door to their room, then letting go of his hand, ran and jumped onto their large bed. She lounged comfortably as he changed his formal wear for a pair of black silk lounging pants that matched her own and forewent the shirt. She smirked, and he could see her peaked nipples through his shirt that she had on. He cleared his throat, "Dinner?"
She sighed and flounced off the bed, brushing past him, making sure she rubbed up against the slight bulge in his pants. He groaned, this dinner was going to be torture, but the thought of Weasley and Potter successfully killed his burgeoning arousal.
Dinner lasted 3 hours.
Lucius knew the seam was about to split on his pants from how hard he was.
Hermione knew she'd need to replace the chair fabric she was sitting on because of the wet spot that was certain to be there.
Dinner had been full of veiled and unveiled promises of "later." Sexual innuendo and basically any tactic other than physical undressing had been used to arouse the other. Harry and Ron had been relegated to the back of the couple's minds, a blip on the radar, one that looked like it wasn't coming.
Finally, after Hermione had eaten the last chocolate covered strawberry and licked off all the chocolate that she had "accidentally" dropped down her cleavage, she gave up on the hero twins showing up and stood impatiently. "Lucius," she murmured, her voice husky with need and desire.
He stood so quickly his chair turned over and before she knew it, he was around the table and had her in his arms, bridal style. Her eyes widened as they looked up at his. He knew he'd never seen a woman sexier than his looked in that moment. Eyes full of love, but widened in anticipation. Lips full, ripe for passionate kisses. Her hair cascaded over his arm supporting her upper body and neck. Her breasts strained against the thin lawn material of his white shirt, most of the upper buttons undone to reveal her creamy skin. The silk of her pants hid nothing and revealed the curves and outlines of her lower body, with her small feet poking out at the end. One was curled atop the other and her arms were thrown around his neck in complete trust.
As he walked through the sitting room and into their bedroom, she whispered up at him, "Make love to me, Lucius."
And in that moment, Lucius knew that he had made the right decision earlier that afternoon in letting go of his pride, if only for his wife.
As he lay her down upon the down coverlet, he whispered into her ear, "I'd be happy to, Wife."
She held her hands up to him and sighed out, "Husband."
He waved the lights to a dim and then knelt on the bed next to her. He ran a hand, tracing the features of her face, picking up a stray curl and putting it back into place amidst the fan upon her pillow. He traced his hand over the soft hollow of her throat and shoulder, over the swell of her aching breasts, over the planes of her stomach, over her sensual hips that taunted him day after day, down the long legs that mocked him.
She lay still, reveling in the feel of his hand as it traced its way over her body, shuddering as he turned her nerves to fire. She fought to keep her eyes open, eager to watch Lucius' perusal.
He turned molten silver eyes to her gaze and slowly crept back up the bed and her body until he was looming over her, his hair cascading over one shoulder. Hermione brought one hand up and tangled it into his hair to keep it out of the way and then pulled his head down to hers, catching him in a kiss that seemed to turn the room upside down.
He fought to stay on his elbows as she arched into his body, eager for the contact. He shifted his weight to one arm and moved the other to start unbuttoning her shirt, quickly pushing it off her chest, but not taking the time to pull it off her shoulders.
His fingers slipped down to her silk pants, tracing the line as she whimpered slightly and arched up, rubbing her peaked breasts against his naked chest. His fingers slipped underneath the pants, tripping their way down to her dewy curls and aroused lips. After teasing her for a few moments, he pulled his hand back, distracted by her sudden rubbing of his own crotch through his pants.
She rolled his sacs through the silken material and he fought down a groan. Her nimble fingers traced their way over the hard ridges of his erection, his hips bucking slightly, begging for more attention.
Their lips remained locked, tongues dueling for dominance, a reflection of their daily relationship. A touch for touch, kiss for kiss; each challenge was met and upped. Lucius pushed her pants down and she kicked them off.
And then, just as he felt her hands drift to his own pants, in what he hoped was her liberation of his erection, she pulled away. Then just as quickly, she flipped them, using a leg between to twist his own and a push on his shoulder. Suddenly, she was astride him, smirking down at him with mischievous eyes. He made no move to stop the switch, knowing that when she did take control, it was worth every moment … that and it gave him good reason to get retribution later.
As she leaned down to kiss him, he brought his hands up to caress her swinging breasts, tweaking the nipples and kneading the soft, silky flesh.
She dragged her palms down his chest, stopping at his pants, and then slowly inching them down his hips and over his straining erection. Both felt a slight buzzing in the back of their minds as she did so, but neither paid attention as he was finally freed and she lowered her hips to rub her wet lips against his tip.
He groaned and pulled her forward against his chest, the friction sending shocks up her already sensitized nipples. His large hands clenched her buttocks in a warning against teasing him again. Her hands found his shoulders to steady herself on and she raised herself back up. One of his hands went to his cock to guide their movements. She sunk down quickly gasping slightly at the fullness. I love this position.
He smirked knowing her thoughts and ground his hips up a little to remind her to get going. She grinned against his lips and lifted up and sunk back down, excruciatingly slowly. He growled and clenched her hips tightly. She dug her nails into his shoulders, causing him to hiss at the sharp feeling.
He arched his hips sharply, letting her know how precarious her seat was and she purred, throwing her head back as he rubbed against that spot. He did it again; rolling his hips beneath hers to stimulate her clit a little and hopeful guide her back to riding him.
She began to meet his rolling movements and was soon clenching and flexing her thighs as she bounced up and down, her lovely breasts a feast for Lucius' liquid silver eyes. The white shirt was still around her shoulders, a pure contrast to her flushed body and his black silk pants that were wrapped around his lower legs. She leaned down to kiss him and let out a moan, rejoicing in the new angle.
Lucius caught her lips, tongue demanding entrance as he increased his thrusts aiming for that spot she loved every time. She was squirming and moaning over him, clearly headed towards the first crash of pleasure when they both heard a pair of gasps, and then,
"Holy shit."
The words were uttered in a somewhat quiet voice that didn't seem to belong to either of the two men standing in the doorway, mouths agape with horror, eyes widened in shock. The voice took on an eerily quality of calm hysterical disbelief that couldn't quite manifest itself in any other way than becoming completely unemotional.
The redheaded man recovered first of the two and turning bright red, asked in a strangled voice, "Hermione?!"
The pair on the bed hadn't moved, unsure of how to handle the situation and rather loathe to acknowledge its existence. However, as soon as the redhead spoke, they were galvanized into action. Hermione tumbled off of Lucius, pulling her shirt together and scrambling for her black pants. Lucius quickly pulled his own up to cover a quickly deflating, but still rather daunting erection.
Harry and Ron couldn't seem to bear looking at the scene before them, but had no willpower to shift their eyes away either. They couldn't seem to process what was going on before them.
As soon as Hermione had her pants on and shirt partially buttoned, she glanced worriedly at her husband, who was smirking, lounging on the bed staring haughtily at the two Aurors in his doorway.
Hermione whispered timidly, "Um … Hi?"
This seemed to break the stupor, as well as Harry's silence.
"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
"That was exactly what I was wondering, Potter." Lucius drawled. "Why are you in my home, uninvited, this late at night?"
Harry switched from rage to shock to indignation back to rage so quickly Hermione thought he could had passed for a Kaleidoscope. "We're here to officially search your home for any potential Dark Matter, by order of the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt." Harry turned to Hermione, pink tinging his ears.
He's been around the Weasleys too long, thought Hermione and Ron both.
Harry snarled, "What are you doing Hermione? What about George?"
Out of all the possible angry arguments that Hermione had thought up over the years, she had certainly never expected that one. Neither apparently had Ron or Lucius.
"George?" asked all three in unison.
Harry growled at Ron, signaling to the other man that perhaps now was not the time to question his best friend. Hermione, however, stayed strong. "Yes, George. The man you've been seeing for the past fifteen or so years?"
Hermione gasped and her eyes widened. She looked over at Lucius and promptly burst into tears, turning away from the three and running into her bathroom, throwing up about 10 different wards to keep them out.
Lucius growled and turned to the other two, who seemed to finally remember that they were 1) in a former Death Eater's home, 2)who's home they may or may not have just ransacked, and 3)who's evening they had just cut short. "Whatever you two think you know means nothing," his voice dropped to a deadly, ice cold tone. "Nothing."
Harry glared back defiantly, "I may owe your family a life-debt, but I'm certainly not afraid of you."
Lucius chuckled darkly, "You should be Potter. And if you're not afraid of me …" he paused looking back at the bathroom door, "you should probably be afraid of my wife that you just made cry."
Harry heard a slight thump next to him and decided that perhaps, perhaps just this once, fainting was the proper procedure. He smiled blissfully as the swift black darkness came up to meet him, face to face.