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Chapter 27 Out and About
Nora checked with Hermione that she and Marcus were coming to the party three times, "I know, I sound desperate and pathetic. But my brother-in-law is a git. He looks down on athletes and treats them like they are stupid. He goads them into playing trivia games, trounces everyone, and then is a poor winner. I need a ringer, a smart ringer to beat him."
"Okay."
"I bought a brand new muggle trivia game just to give you a leg up."
Hermione laughed, "How can I lose?"
"That's the outcome I'm hoping for, Oakley, too."
Waiting for Marcus to pick her up, Hermione appraised her appearance. She selected a deep purple jumper dress paired with black stirrup pants and knee-high black leather boots. She twisted back and forth in front of the mirror. "Not bad," she told herself.
"Not bad?" a deep voice from the doorway startled her. "Try fucking fantastic." Marcus crossed the distance, pulling her into his arms. "I'd offer to stay here and make sure you can't walk tomorrow but Barrett says Nora's keyed up we're coming." He claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.
"Hmm, she is. I'm going to intellectually devastate her brother-in-law by beating him at his own game."
"Are you? That's always hot."
"And you get to watch."
"I do, don't I?" He kissed her neck and then pulled back. "We shall have to do the responsible thing and attend. Once you finish destroying his self-esteem, we come home and I shag you rotten."
"That's been the plan since the beginning, where were you?"
He shrugged, "You never said anything, it would be rude to just assume." She playfully smacked him, "Hey, now, no rough stuff. Save it for later."
The Barrett's home turned out to be a modest three bedroom in a quiet village near Falmouth. When Hermione express she found it adorable, Nora's sister and her husband, Lindy, and Lawrence, expressed that they did not, and were not shy in sharing their opinion. "London is far more cosmopolitan and trendy."
Hermione frowned, "But expensive and crowded. Kids need room to run and play."
"That's why there are parks," Lindy sniffed.
"Where you can't fly a broom because of muggles," pointed out Oakley.
"Children don't need to fly around all the time," Lawrence declared. "They need culture and sophistication, educational things."
Hermione sipped her drink, "Children, even more so than adults need work/life balance. They need to recharge with unstructured time. Highly intellectual children even more so."
Lawrence ignored her, "Our children don't need to waste their time with silly games throwing balls at each other."
"Like chess, I find quidditch to be very strategy based. I should think developing new plays to be mentally challenging."
Lindy laughed, "Spoken like a good little quidditch wife. It's all quite glamorous until the children come along. Then he's off to exotic locales without you, and you're home changing diapers lamenting your lost youth."
Marcus burst into gaffs of laughter. They all stared at him, "Sorry I just imagined having kids. Between Maisie, Bee, and Sunni, I can't picture us getting the chance to change the diaper."
Hermione giggled, "Especially since I can see Uncle Bas insisting on hiring a nanny elf per child." Together they dissolved into laughter. Their demeanor halted the conversation.
Marcus leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Remind you of anyone?"
"We cannot let your sister marry Mehville. Percy at least appreciates the value of relaxation, even if he fails at doing it." She thought for a moment, then asked, "What is it with middle class purebloods and these attitudes?"
"Probably failed social climbing and arranged marriages, that's my parents' problems."
"That reminds me, we still haven't discussed your mother."
He took a long drink of his beer, "Later, not exactly party conversation material."
"Fair enough."
Not long after that Lindy began badgering Nora to bring out the trivia games she and Lawrence wanted to play. Sighing heavily, Nora pulled out the box. "I got this is the office Christmas swap last year, it's literary trivia."
"Right up my alley," Lawrence rubbed his hands together. Veterans of Barrett parties groaned.
Nora opened the instructions and began reading, "For teams or single players. Each team or player gets a question, if they answer correctly they score a point. If the player is incorrect, another player can steal the point by answering correctly. Gameplay continues until one team, or player reaches twelve points." She looked around the room, "Teams, I assume?"
Adrian threw himself over the back of a couch, "Hermione's on my team."
Marcus wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, "Get your own girlfriend."
"Boys, teams can be more than two," Hermione patted Marcus's knee while Adrian smirked at him. Lindy and Lawrence made a team, while the beaters opted to make a third. Everyone else opted to watch the carnage.
"Age before beauty," Adrian offered Lawrence, the other team laughed.
Nora held up a card, okay, Team Sophistication, first question. Who were Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell?"
"Hmmm, they are characters from Hemingway."
"Sorry, no. Anyone for the steal?" Nora asked.
Hermione waved her hand, "They are the pen names of Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Bronte, chosen because they were unisex names more associated with males."
"Correct, one point for Team Adrian." Nora rolled her eyes as she said the name. "Team Beater, you're up. What state do Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn live in?"
Both Moore and Ferguson looked clueless, "Um, Texas?" guessed Moore.
Hermione's hand shot up. "That's incorrect," Nora informed them, "Hermione?"
"The boys live in Hannibal, which is in Missouri."
"Another point for Team Adrian. Now, your question, what title did the author want to use for Pride and Prejudice, before being convinced to change it?"
"First Impressions."
"Correct!" And so it went, Hermione knew exactly where to find the quote, "All the world's a stage." That Edgar Rice Burroughs was the pen name of Norman Bean. She knew the Bobbsey twins were Bert and Nan and Freddie and Flossie and that Michael Bond had given Paddington Bear his love of marmalade. She had just stolen the name of the Jungle Book boa constrictor, Kaa, out from under Lawrence's nose. No one seemed to care she dominated the game because he wasn't.
Nora selected another card, "Lawrence, Lindy, what is the longest book ever written?"
He smirked at Hermione, "In Search of Lost Time."
"Wrong," laughed Hermione, "that book is only 1,267,069 words in length. The correct answer is Artamene ou le Grand Cyrus. It is 1,954,300 words in thirteen volumes."
Nora nodded, "Point to Team Adrian. Okay, Team Beater, which book did Oscar Wilde write about immortality?"
"We have no clue. Hermione?"
She rose her hand faster than Lawrence, "The Portrait of Dorian Gray."
"Correct." Before Lawrence could object to the beaters asking their opponent for the answer, Nora continued. "Team Adrian, what was the first novel ever written?"
"Tales of the Genji in 1008 by Murasaki Skikibu, and Japanese noblewoman."
"Correct. That's eleven points for Team Adrian. Team Sophistication, your question, what is the name of Charles Dickens's last, half finished work?"
Lawrence looked lost. Smirking Hermione raised her hand. Panicking Lawrence just blurted something out. "Greater Expectations."
"No, Hermione do you know?"
"The Mystery of Edwin Drood."
"Yes! Team Adrian wins!" Nora cried to the cheers of the crowd.
Hermione looked around smiling, "That was fun, we should play again."
"You cheated!" protested Lawrence.
"Has it ever occurred to you that you aren't always the smarted person in the room?"
"Oh, because you don't think the same thing!"
"My life experiences have taught me that I will not always be the person who knows the best way to do things or have all the answers. Intelligence comes in many forms. She leaned back against Marcus. "I'm kind of tired, are you ready to go?"
"Sure." Despite Adrian's protest that the night was young, they circulated making their farewells.
Marcus escorted her to her bedroom door. He pressed her against the wall as their good night kiss heated up. She swiped her tongue against his lips, causing him to open his mouth with a moan. Her tongue tangled with his. He pressed into her even more firmly, grinding his groin against hers, causing her to whimper. He nipped at her lips, before moving down to nibble at the base of her ear. Regretfully, he pulled back, "Good night, little dove," he whispered against her skin.
"Good night?" still reeling from the kiss, Hermione's mind searched for meaning behind the words.
"You said you were tired. I figured you wanted to get some extra sleep. The Selwyn's things are pretty big."
"I'm not that tired," she took his hand. "C'mon, brute."
"Yes, ma'am." Hermione began shedding her clothes as she walked to the bed. "Um, Hermione? What about your parents and uncle?"
"The rents are having dinner with the Malfoys and Uncle Bas told me not to wait up."
"They won't be out all night," he mentioned nervously.
"That's what silencing charms and security wards are for, silly." Completely naked she climbed up on the bed and crawled to the headboard. "Will you be joining me, or am I going solo tonight?" She looked him in the eyes with a raised eyebrow.
"What?" He stared at her wondering where his shy girl went.
"Solo it is then. Shame." Slowly wetting her lips, she held eye contact, until he broke his gaze away to follow her fingers as they trailed down her soft skin. She brushed her finger through the dark curls at the apex of her legs. He swallowed hard, unable to look away. She gently rubbed
her clit in slow circles alternating with up and down movements, moaning softly. With her other hand, she massaged her breasts, first one then the other. As desire pooled in her center, she dropped her head back onto the pillow, breaking eye contact.
"Sweet Salazar, little dove, have mercy."
In response, she sped up and made a keening sound as she got herself off. Breathing heavily, she lay limp enjoying the small afterglow. She had intended to tease him longer, but the knowledge he was watching, and enjoying the view, added a boost that tipped her over the edge. She felt the bed dip as Marcus joined her, "Holy hell, dove, that was so fucking hot."
"Yeah," she gave a breathy sigh, "it was."
"Unless you have any objections, I intend to pound you into this mattress now." He moved so that the tip of his cock pressed against her moist slit.
"Yes, please." She pushed up, moving the tip just inside of her. He growled, surging forward. He pulled back then slammed forward again. He wrapped her legs around his waist, reached forward, and gripped the headboard for balance. Together they set a frantic pace. Each thrust pushed Hermione down into the mattress. She began moaning, twisting, and crying out in tiny little bursts. "Oh shite, oh Marcus! Oh, fuck!" Her entire body tensed, her walls gripping him tightly. The tension broke two strokes later, blinding pleasure washing over her.
He continued the punishing pace, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his end. "Hermione, oh, love you, little dove." He collapsed next to her.
She brushed the hair off his face, "Love you, too."
He pulled her to him, "Can't fall asleep, father murder."
"Mm-hmm," she mumbled already snuggling in, sleep pulling her under.
Sunlight streamed through the window. A throat clearing woke Hermione. She blinked and smiled at Marcus. He grinned back, "Good morning, brute."
"Good morning, little dove."
"Good morning," a deep voice greeted them. Startled, both shot up, Hermione thinking to bring the sheet with her. Rodolphus stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, glaring at them.
"Good morning," Hermione chirped, starting to climb out of the bed.
"Freeze. I do not need to see you naked. Ever." Rodolphus stopped her. He turned his attention to Marcus, "You best be using protection. I would prefer grandchildren long enough after the wedding that people don't count backward on their fingers.
"Of course, we are," Hermione snapped. "We're not reckless children without self control." Rodolphus's face dropped at the venom in her tone. "I am going to excuse this as too much dinner party, not enough breakfast, and try not to be too insulted."
"Er, you're right, my apologies."
"You're forgiven this time," she told him.
Rodolphus scrubbed his face with his hands. "I hope this is the only time. Flint, we expect you at Christmas dinner at seven. Don't be late."
"Yes, sir." Rodolphus nodded and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Marcus looked at Hermione, "What happened to your wards?"
"Oops."
"Oops! Oops?"
"They must have expired overnight."
"Please tell me you weren't lying to Lestrange about protections because I did forget last night."
"Of course not. I'm on the potion and cast the charm. I don't want to risk children until this war is over. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to an innocent baby."
"Very sensible," he kissed her forehead.
Hermione grinned, nuzzling him, "I like to think so."
-oOoOo-
Two days before Christmas Narcissa arrived at the Hall with Luna in tow. "Good morning, Aunt Cissa."
"Hello, darling. Since your mother has zero interest in her wardrobe, I will be helping you select your ensembles for the New Year's ball. It is a masquerade this year."
Luna clapped her hands in delight. "I've always wanted to attend one. They sound so elegant in the stories."
"Yes. I also invited your friends, Vanessa and Alexandra, as well as Marcus's sisters. Since you seem rather attached to him, the press will begin to focus on them more."
"That's very kind of you," Hermione hugged the older woman.
"Not really, I always wanted a daughter to dress up. So, I'm stealing Bella's. Shall we?" She gestured to the floo.
The manager at the high fashion boutique flipped the sign to closed when she recognized Narcissa. "Mrs. Malfoy, ladies, welcome. How can we assist you today?"
"My niece and her friends need gowns for the masquerade."
"This way, please." She led them to a back area of the store. "These are our costume gowns, animals inspired to the right, fantasy people to the center, and colored gowns to the left." She clapped her hands and three salesclerks appeared. "We are here to assist you."
Perusing the racks Hermione heard Esme and Cressida whispering over the lack of price tags. "Did Narcissa not tell you? This is my treat. I had no idea of what you for Christmas, so dresses it is."
Cressida looked concerned, "We can't accept. That's just too much." Esme nodded her agreement.
Hermione began laughing, "It is so adorable that you think this is optional. Narcissa already opened my tab, and included you in it."
Esme studied her closely, "Why?"
"I plan on keeping your brother. Numerous sources have mentioned that our relationship could put more attention on your family. I don't want anyone making snide comments about your appearances or speculating on your financial standing or lack therein. Meaning, that today you find something that looks fabulous and don't worry about your father's blood pressure when the bills come in."
Cressida sighed, "It doesn't seem like we have much of a choice, do we?"
"You do not. If it helps you can consider this your birthday and Christmas gifts." She smiled, "Honestly, your support with your mother is all the thanks I need."
"Mother can be difficult," Cressida admitted. "She and Daddy were an arranged marriage. Their arrangement had a clause dictating they had to have two male offspring. Malcolm came first, and things were good, but..."
"Along came two girls?" Hermione guessed.
"Daddy was never discreet with his mistresses. Practically rubbed them in Mother's face. And their vows forbid her from seeking attention outside the marital bed."
"And to fulfill her obligations she needed him to grace it." Esme picked up the narrative. "Marcus was the answer to prayers in more ways than one."
"It has left Mother bitter. She refused to let Father make us arrangements. At the same time, no one is good enough, no one could make us happy."
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, unable to imagine it.
"Don't be. It isn't your fault. But speaking of happy..." Esme trailed off blushing.
"I can speak to my friend. If he's interested I think I will invite him to the masque. You two can get to know one another without preconceptions."
"I'd like that, thank you."
"Don't thank me yet, you might hate each other."
"That's fair."
"Now, let's shop," Cressida linked arms with both of them.
Alexandra and Cressida selected color-themed gowns. The former
opted for a mask that changed her hair color to match the blue of her gown. Esme and Luna both chose animal inspired outfits, Esme a delicate swan, and Luna a bright tropical bird. Each suited the girl. Hermione deliberated. With a sly smile, Luna suggested a phoenix. Hermione grimaced and shook her head. Vanessa looked over, "How about a butterfly or a dragonfly? They both represent new beginnings, that's why I'm going to pick one. I'm hoping for a new start this year."
"I like it. I'll take whichever one you don't want."
Vanessa looked over the monarch butterfly costume and the dragonfly. "Be the dragonfly, all that black will overshadow me."
Hermione examined the slim black sheath dress with a boat neckline. A shimmering layer of raw acromantula lace gave the dress an iridescent sheen. The wings were glittering works of art. The mask twinkled with green, blue, and opal jewels. "Try it on," urged Alexandra.
The second she slipped it on, she knew it was the one. It accented her curves without bulging in the wrong places. She could sit, stand, and move without ripping a seam or tripping over the hem. Narcissa declared it perfection. She instructed the sales clerks to box up the purchases for them. She turned to Hermione, "Having just reconnected with my sisters, I want to have a family lunch on New Years Eve. Arrive around one, you can get ready at the Manor."
"That sounds wonderful."
"Bring Marcus," ordered Narcissa.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Dora and her spouse will be joining us at the ball, and bringing their son to lunch."
"More Teddy time sounds splendid," gushed Hermione. "Odd question, but may I invite a plus one?"
Narcissa raised an elegant eyebrow, "Does Marcus know?"
"He will, it was his idea after all. He suggested introducing his sister to a friend of mine. Where better than one of, if not the, most exclusive social event of the season?"
"Flattery will get you everywhere. How were you not sorted into Slytherin?"
"I asked for Gryffindor. I was the longest hat stall of the century."
"Of course you were." Narcissa linked arms with her, "Bring your friend."