Bed and Breakfast

"Du kannst dich zwar den ganzen Tag ärgern, aber du musst es nicht. - You can be annoyed at things all day long, but nobody forces you to." (German proverb)

They stood on the crowded pavement before the main railway station, rush-hour commuters pressing past them and jostling them on occasion. She head Lucius give a suppressed hiss as a man in a business suit shouldered him aside. Eleanor was sure that she had pushed her husband almost to breaking point. Gently she touched him. "Come, just one more stage to the journey and we're there. I promise."

He glared at her out of pale eyes and they stepped forward into a cool dim evening. Heavy, insistent rain fell out of deep-hanging grey clouds and slicked the pavement, reflecting bright car-lights and colorful neon signs. Off to their side loomed the large, dark shadow of Cologne Cathedral with its bizarre skyline of gothic spires. Their desperate mission seemed strangely unreal in the face of this busy scene within the muggle world. She still hadn't lost her feeling of hollowness and weightlessness that had haunted her since the catastrophe only a day ago.

Eleanor pulled a small folded umbrella from her suitcase and opened it over both of them. Lucius had at least retained enough temper to take it from her and to offer her his arm so they both fit under the protection of the black cloth. The witch steered them towards the taxi stands where a long row of pale cream Mercedes cars were parked waiting for passengers. A man stepped forward, took their bags from them to put them in the trunk of his car and opened the back door of the cab for them.

Lucius settled in with a grunt and looked around. "Muggle taxis! These cars are even smaller than the ones in London," he said, and then with a little appreciative nod. "But at least they open the doors for you here. Obviously someone has taught them better manners."

"Wo soll's hingehen?" asked the driver.

"Kastellstiege 35, bitte," said Eleanor.

The man moved them out of the queue of waiting cars, and soon they threaded their way through the busy evening traffic, until they came to the older part of town. The cab rumbled over uneven cobblestones and finally stopped in front of a narrow tall half-timbered house with lit windows and a large iron-worked sign that said "Zur Kaiserin Agrippina".

The driver opened the doors for them and unloaded the bags. It was still raining, and Lucius held the umbrella as Eleanor paid for the trip.

"What is this place?" asked the blond wizard as the taxi took off down the street.

"A pub and guest house. It's run by muggles; but it's right beside the entrance to the wizarding part of Cologne. I thought we could get a room and keep our stuff there. We can either hide out here for a few days, or make a quick exit if we are successful tonight."

"More muggles," sighed Lucius. "And I guess no one is here to help us with our baggage, either."

Eleanor lifted her suitcase. "You guessed right, dear. Let's get checked in." Lucius followed, and she thought she heard him grumble something about this being the worst imaginable honeymoon.

He watched his wife negotiate for a few minutes with a florid, middle-aged woman in a hideous red muggle suit, handing over a small plastic card and writing down all sorts of information with an odd metal stick that didn't even need dipping in ink, until she finally received a key.

They made their way down a dark hallway, listening to the raucous noise of the patrons in the pub. Lucius almost gagged on the stench of overcooked vegetables, stale smoke and old beer. No one but muggles could be expected to pay to put up with anything like this.

Eleanor turned a sharp corner and led their way up a squeaky wooden staircase. Lucius assumed she had either been here before or had received instructions from the muggle woman in red. He craned his neck to look at the old darkened portraits that stared down at them from the walls, but was disappointed when none of the inhabitants of the picture frames so much as blinked or raised a hand in greeting. It seemed muggle portraits were as rude as their subjects themselves.

Finally they reached a second carpeted hallway with old battered-looking doors on both sides. With the heavy wood beams that held up the ceiling and the dark oak paneling on the walls Lucius felt the place was sufficiently ancient looking to have a bit of a wizarding feel about it. The guest rooms above the Leaky Cauldron didn't seem much dissimilar, as he recalled from a series of youthful indiscretions.

"Number 17," said Eleanor suddenly and put the key in the lock. She pushed open the door with a squeak of its hinges, flicked on the light and led the way into a spacious, square room with three tall, narrow windows that was dominated by a broad, antique four-poster bed.

Lucius dropped his suitcase at the foot of the bed and sat down on the mattress with a sigh. Eleanor poked her head around the bathroom, which, fortunately, was a more modern affair with a decent tub and shower. She took off and hung up her coat and then sat next to her husband. "How are you?" she asked.

He pulled off his gloves and opened the buttons of his overcoat. "Tired," he sighed. "Aggravated." He paused. "Worried to death." He grimaced and turned his head to face her. "I'm sorry this is to be our honeymoon."

She pulled herself together for a smile. "Getting back Draco is all that matters right now. We'll find the mirror. We'll rescue your son, and we'll fight your former master. Then we'll have all the time in the world for a proper honeymoon."

He nodded, obviously grateful for her reassurance. He had talked little about Draco, but she knew him well enough to realize that he was deeply cut by the abduction of his son. She wished she could do or say anything to reassure him, but he knew Voldemort better than her, and she was sure that Lucius' anxiety was well founded.

She ruthlessly tamped down on any thoughts about how the Dark Lord might decide to torture the younger Malfoy, now that his father was out of his reach. She hoped their discipline in avoiding magic had thrown off any Death Eater spies and bought them the time they needed for a surprise attack.

She felt she had to lighten the mood. "In the meantime," she suggested with a playful leer, "if I can take your mind off things for a little while, I'd be more than glad to oblige. We're still too early to start. Midnight should be fine for our break-in, and there are a few hours to go."

He lifted his hand to push a few coppery strands out of her face, feeling the cool touch of raindrops that still clung to her hair. "Making up for our wedding night, eh?" he teased her. "I could have wished for more – appropriate – surroundings. But I guess it is in keeping with our courtship that I get to properly enjoy my wife in a muggle guest house."

An idea struck him. "Is this place mugglish enough to have a shower?" he asked, and Eleanor had to smile at the small glint of expectation that showed in his grey eyes.

"Of course," she purred, recalling a previous encounter in a shower stall that had proved rather memorable.

She held out her hand, leading him to the bathroom and switched on the lights with a flourish. Her husband growled appreciatively. "Well, this might prove to be a worth-while place to stay after all."

He gave her butt a playful and lascivious broad-handed slap and squeeze and moved back into the bedroom. With a grin she opened the stall and pre-warmed the water, and when she turned back she looked at Lucius sans clothes. He had even pulled the leather fastening from his hair and his pale blond strands now framed his proud leonine face.

The wizard gave a self-satisfied smirk as his wife's eyes traveled up and down his body and her lips curved in a contented smile. He was already half aroused at the thought of his plans for her and watched her as she ran her hands over his collar bones, down to his hardening nipples, over his ribs and in a "V" across his stomach until the tips of her fingers lightly trailed the silky skin that sheathed his incipient erection.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and then gallantly helped her out of her severe black business suit and moss green top. She shrugged out of her bra and panties, kicked her shoes into a corner and then sat down with a gasp on the cold rim of the bath tub as Lucius insisted on kneeling before her and slowly and sensuously rolling down her stockings for her.

He gently cupped her toes in his warm hands and pressed down on the spot he knew so well on the underside of her foot, just between the toes and the arch. She mewed in helpless appreciation and heard a chuckle from him.

"Your poor, poor, feet, my dear! Just because we could not use lightness spells on your baggage. There, does this feel better?" His nails raked the sensitive skin under her feet, and she exploded in terrified laughter, but his left now captured her foot in a vise-like grip, while the pads of the fingers of his right massaged her insistently.

With the torture of his lighter, teasing touch gone, she abandoned herself to his care, humming her contentment as he treated her other foot to his attentions. The bathroom was slowly steaming up from the heated water, and finally Lucius released her feet and placed them softly back on the floor.

"So here we are for our treat of the evening!" He opened the glass door with a flourish and motioned for Eleanor to move into the jets. His hands trailed over her hips as he followed her, and in the falling water he turned her and kissed her deeply. Wetness slicked down their hair and ran over their faces. She closed her eyes as his fingers dug deeply into her tensed, travel-worn muscles and relaxed her, working his way down her spine from her neck to her hips. His lips never left her mouth.

When she finally felt as if she was going to collapse in a quivering, boneless heap of flesh, she gently lifted his hands from her body and made him place them against the tiles and the glass stall to grant her access to him. For a moment she looked at the faint outline of the dark mark, still safely hidden under the waxy salve Severus had given them. Then she dismissed any thought of their adversary. She placed a kiss on Lucius' mouth, ducked underneath his outstretched left arm and molded herself to his back before slicking her fingers with soap and returning the favor. She heard him hum happily under her care and smiled.

Slowly she felt the knots in his muscles soften and took a deep breath. "My place or yours?" she asked the age-old question, only to get a blank stare from her husband and realizing it was obviously a muggle joke. "Um, the bed or the shower," she retracted.

Lucius turned towards her and considered. "This is our attempt at a proper wedding-night," he declared. "Tradition demands the bed."

She raised an eyebrow. "Tradition it is," she nodded solemnly and turned off the water, grabbing two towels off the rail as she opened the door.

They both made a half-hearted attempt to dry each other, but found that kissing their water-slicked skin proved much more pleasurable. She teased his lips with her mouth, and sloppily ran the towel down his back, while he pretended to dab at her flanks with his terry cloth. He finally growled in frustration. "Come on, back to bed!"

They made their way to the bedroom, still half-wet, the hotel towels falling carelessly to their sides as their hands sought each other's bodies. Lucius moved forward in imitation of a not-so-fit-for-society dance, pushing her back as he kissed her greedily until her knees hit the mattress. She stopped in surprise while he pressed on, but then she gripped his shoulders and leaned back with some force taking him with her.

A moment later they had tumbled onto the bed in a twisted heap of flailing arms and legs. She broke their kiss to laugh, but he merely growled at the interruption and asserted his strength to move them both further towards the middle of the mattress and to recapture her lips in a relentless kiss.

Her amusement at catching him off-guard evaporated quickly as desire once more took control of her. She felt his weigh press down on her, the insistence of his mouth and tongue, the rough grasp of his hands, and knew she was already growing slick with lust. There was no time for niceties.

"Lucius, please…" she gasped when he released her for a moment. He lifted his head, and for a moment his stormy grey eyes focused on her. She paused, noticing how the golden light from the lamp on the nightstand caught in his water-soaked tresses.

He watched her with a preternatural intensity that gave her the shivers. "Now," he said. It was not a question.

"Now," she nodded. A moment later she felt his knees nudge her thighs apart. She threw back her head and let out a muffled cry as he pushed inside her in one swift, forceful movement that bordered on the painful. He did not give her time to adjust as he immediately withdrew almost his entire length and thrust forwards again. She clawed at his back and was rewarded with a savage bite to her shoulder.

His next thrust smashed the headboard into the wall with a sound like a pistol shot, but they both were too far gone to care. He freed one hand by supporting his chest on her body and snaked his fingers down underneath his stomach to capture her clit. His thumb danced across her tender flesh and at his next push she arched her body towards him with a cry.

Lucius proved relentless, driving her to climax mercilessly and continuing his savage assault while she came, screaming by now. Even then, when he would normally have allowed her some respite, he continued without pause, until she felt she could not bear it any more. Her sensitized flesh protested at his attack, but she was past coherent talk and to her utter surprise she tensed for yet another release.

As she climaxed again she felt him shudder, but the steely tension of his muscles under her hands told him that he held on with perfect self discipline, not slowing, but not allowing himself his release either. His teeth clenched for a moment, before he devoured her mouth once again, drinking down her gasps and moans.

She reached her peak once more, her spasms wracking her body and proving as pleasurable as they felt painful in their forced intensity. She merely managed a choke as he now bore down on her, his weight crushing the breath out of her, his thrusts hitting her fast and furious, and a few moments later he came, curving back as he brought both hands down on the mattress to push himself away from her. His cock reached the apex of his thrust, his head arched back until she saw the tendons of his neck stick out with painful definition, and then he shouted out in his release.

Catching her breath she placed her hands over his ribs that expanded with a powerful attempt to fill his lungs, and then he slowly stilled within her, his head bowed down, and for a moment deep green eyes held grey as he regarded her. She watched his nostrils flare at the sight of her, and then he sank back into her, burying his face at her neck. His tongue laved the skin his teeth had bruised before, and then he didn't move at all.

Where he lay on her chest she could feel the thunderous beat of his heart calming slowly. Water and sweat cooled on his skin as she gently ran her hands over his back. She lightly raked her nails over his ass and was rewarded with a soft contented hum that vibrated against her. She turned her face towards him and kissed his neck through the wetness of his hair.

For the first time since the desperate hue and cry about Draco's abduction she felt whole again, felt grounded, earthbound, solid. She clasped him tightly, clenching her lids over eyes that threatened to fill with tears. "We will win," she whispered to him, willing to believe her words as she spoke them. "We will be a family again. We will prevail. We are Malfoy." She felt his arms tighten around her at her words. Then darkness took her.