Author's Note - M rated at the end. Just a heads up that chapter 61 will be the last chapter in this fic. Please fav/follow/reivew! -MM
December 2009
Wizarding Wiltshire, England
Friday Evening
Lyra stepped out into the bright lightning of camera flash as she exited the black carriage that had relayed her to the central temple in Wiltshire. The temple had been built by the Malfoy family in the 1600's and was an intimidating place, severe in its beauty. In the snow, it looked like a fortress of cold rock and ice. It frightened Lyra a little, but her husband was in there, so it would take a lot more than that to keep her out.
Speaking of said spouse, it turned out that society weddings were insane, and none more so than a Malfoy wedding. In Draco's family, wedding ceremonies were modeled after the romance (or lack thereof) between Merlin and Niviane. Lyra had pointed out on multiple occasions to both her husband and his mother that things ended rather badly for Merlin, because Niviane more or less killed him and it was a weird way to get married, but whatever.
Her role in all this was to literally bust down the door to get to her betrothed. Typically the more frightening and fantastic the entrance, the better. Lyra was competitive and loved a challenge, so she planned on making it interesting, but she wanted to be sure she tempered it a bit because Scorpius was inside and she was not about to give her little spider monkey any nightmares.
The press corps was huge outside of the building. This was, apparently, the social event of the year and everybody had been pestering Narcissa, Astoria, Ginny and even poor Azalea for details about every stitch and petal.
Lyra raised an eyebrow at the photographers and smiled. She was cloaked in black, but her hair was down and swirling around her shoulders wildly in the wind. She felt cool as hell. She hoped she looked cool. She drew her wand and cast an augmentation to the warming spell that hung over the reporters who would, with only one exception, be stuck out in the cold.
They gave her a few mumbles of gratitude and encouragement before she turned back to the dark wooden doors of the temple. She and Narcissa had gone over this bit ad nauseam, like everything else. She knew what to do.
"Game on, baby," she said to Draco, hoping he would hear her somehow.
She walked up to the doors and pounded three times, hearing excited mutters and shushes on the other side. She waited a moment and knocked a second time. Again, she got no response. She waited a moment and then assailed the door with three final knocks. The force from them rattled the giant door impressively and sounded awesome. Ok, for all of Lyra's whining, the whole pursuit and trickery approach to wedded bliss, while not advisable in daily life, was kind of cool on special occasions.
Lyra backed up and made a little show of pacing angrily in front of the door, partially for the cameras, but mostly for Draco, who she figured was watching and loving every second. She raised her wand and took a deep breath. She extinguished all of the lights inside the temple and cast a large orb over the roof that glowed with an eerie green light. She set a heavy mist into the air that was scented with eucalyptus and cool rain, her scent.
She refocused and steeled herself for her next spell. She'd been practicing it for weeks and really hoped she got it right. She pointed her wand at the ground and whispered the words. She heard a noise like a growl and then felt what she'd been expecting. The earth started vibrating under her feet. She could hear the tinkling of crystal from the chandeliers inside and heard a feminine shriek that was most definitely Astoria. She smiled.
She took aim at the green orb she'd cast over the roof and made it explode, raining a shower of glowing scorpions on to the roof that scuttled menacingly down over the windows. She summoned a torrent of sound to finish this part of her performance. Thunder, howling werewolves, growling gremlins and a whisper of Parseltongue that sounded terrifying, but was actually a rough translation suggesting that, given the chance, Zabini would probably make out with his own mother. Lyra just barely registered Harry's laugh over the noise, which probably made everyone around him think he was nuts.
She let the light from her scorpions die out and slowly eased off the tremor she'd created. She let the sound reach a fever pitch before she cut if off abruptly and left her wedding guests in darkness, with the haunting blow of the winter wind being the only remaining sound. The next step in her plan was to do nothing. So she did nothing until she started hearing confused whispers come from inside.
Alright, Black. Get in there. She ran her wand around her head, pulling her long hair back into a sleek chignon. She stomped confidently up to the door and flung it open with a lyrical flourish of her wrist. It made an impressive sound and she strutted confidently into the temple.
She came in on a swirl of frigid snow, the cape of her black cloak billowing behind her. She looked fierce. She looked like Severus. Draco got the distinct impression that that was the point and it made his lips curl up at the thought. She stood at the back of the temple and looked down the long stone aisle, lined with pews of friends, acquaintances and people neither Draco or Lyra had ever met in their lives.
Draco had his wand drawn and relit the chandeliers and lanterns in the cavernous room with an impressive roar.
"Mr. Malfoy," Lyra said darkly, with a nod to Draco at the opposite end of the aisle.
"Miss Black," he replied.
An attendant came up behind Lyra and took her cloak. Even from a distance, she saw Draco's eyes darken as he looked her over. She was in a stunning black ballgown. It was strapless and had a long jet train with a strip of coat buttons down the back. She was wearing a pair of Narcissa's earrings, dangling crescent moons in cool platinum and diamonds. Her eyes were burning deep butterscotch from out of her smokey black eye makeup and her lips were colored a luscious blood red that looked absolutely sinful with her black dress and hair.
She walked proudly down the aisle with her wand still out, acknowledging nobody but her stepson, who peaked his little face out at her with an adorable smile and was rewarded with a tiny smirk and a wink.
She reached the front and ascended the stone stairs with a hand from the master of ceremonies. Apparently, Lyra and Draco were not allowed to touch until they exchanged rings. This was to ensure Lyra's purity. Draco had told her that in bed one night while he was still physically inside her and it made her laugh and laugh.
She reached the top and stood next to Draco. She looked over and gave her big blonde the exact same smirk she'd just given her little blonde. He broke his scowl for just a second to smile at her.
The emcee started in on his long monologue about tradition and Lyra tried harder this time to pay attention, but it was difficult with Draco looking the way he did. He was in full formal dress robes that went high at the neck. They were predictably black on black with dragonscale accents that flashed like obsidian. She noticed he was wearing her father's cufflinks though, instead of some onyx boulders. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she studied him. Ugh. Will there ever be a situation, either dressed or undressed where you don't look painfully sexy? She asked him in her head.
He leaned imperceptibly closer to her. Probably not, he replied in a cocky mental broadcast.
After a few more captivating words from the emcee, he got started on the responsive bit and Lyra had to tune back in and stop eye-fucking her husband.
"Wizard, how are you called and what are your houses?" The ancient wizard asked haughtily.
"Sir, I am called Draco Abraxas and I am of the houses of Malfoy and Black," Draco replied.
"Son of the house of Malfoy, will you have this witch? Will you give her your name, your consideration and your heirs? Will you provide for her and protect her as a lady of your blood? If you will do these things, speak the words."
"In the spirit of Merlin and my fathers before me, I take this witch," Draco replied smoothly.
The man then turned to Lyra.
"Witch, how are you called and what are you houses?"
Lyra inhaled nervously. "Sir, I am called Lyra Lily and I am of the houses of Black and Calderon," she answered.
"Daughter of the house of Black, will you have this wizard? Will you accept his name? Will you bear his children and will you support him in his pursuits, both magical and non? If you will do these things, speak the words."
Lyra didn't love the misogynistic double standard, but the old man hadn't said anything Lyra was unwilling to do, so she went with it.
"In the spirit of Niviane and my mothers before me, I take this wizard," she replied.
Draco glanced over at her and saw a lovely blush rising over the swell of her breasts, which were pushed up beautifully from the tight corset of her gown. He was quite looking forward to getting her alone and out of that dress once the reception was over.
"You have brought tokens of promise for each other. Please give them now," the emcee commanded.
Draco turned to Caelum, his best man, and retrieved Lyra's wedding band. He took her hand gently and slid it over her finger to lock into her engagement ring. Lyra looked down at it and noticed that it had gold projections on the bottom side of it so that now, her ring looked more like a drifting star, than a rising sun. Lyra smiled down at it and beamed up at Draco. He drew his wand and muttered a few spells over it to join it to the other part of the ring and bind it to her. Lyra felt the same magic that she did when he gave her her engagement ring.
They looked down at it together as the metal of the ring changed from gold to silver and the center stone changed from burnt amber to vibrant green. Lyra recognized it immediately. "Scorpius," she whispered.
Draco ran his thumb over the stone and smiled.
Lyra turned back to let Ginny hand her Draco's ring. She had been working on it for months. It was a white gold signet with a black face. It had belonged to Severus and carried his signature protective enchantments. Severus himself had helped her learn how to further augment the ring with charms and some object legilimency. It wasn't as pretty as hers, to be sure, but it was special and she had done the work herself. She was proud of it.
She put the ring on his finger and drew her wand to spell it for him. He looked down at it as the magic tingled up his arm.
"Where did you get this?" He asked curiously.
"Later," she whispered.
They reconvened for the next portion of the ceremony where Draco was supposed to present his betrothed with the choice of one of three gifts, two that were worthy of her and one that was not. It was essentially his job to trick her into picking the stupid one. In most pureblood weddings that contained this tradition, it was largely a farce, where the wizard would steer his woman towards some unbelievable piece of beautiful jewelry, lest their marriage start out with any hurt feelings. Lyra was really hoping Draco would feel that way too.
Well, Draco did not feel that way and was clearly having fun with it. After a few minutes, she narrowed her eyes in annoyance and poked at his mind, but he was blocking her. You punk, she thought. She closed her eyes and pointed haphazardly at one of the levitating black boxes. It floated over to Draco and he opened it, showing it to her.
"This was my second choice," he admitted.
Lyra's jaw dropped. It was a wrap collar necklace in the shape of a snake dripping with diamonds and emeralds. It probably cost what Lyra made in salary for a decade.
Draco picked it up from the velvet lining of the box and wrapped it gently around her neck. It looked beautiful on her.
She trailed her fingers along the snake's diamond tail. "Wow," was all she could say.
Draco smiled at her. "You can have the others when we get home," he whispered.
They came back to attention for the placement of the bond, which in their case was a reaffirmation, since they were already married. This time, when Lyra admitted that her contribution to the bond was passion, the only undignified noise came from a single idiot groomsman. Zabini whistled with enthusiasm and not a single person in attendance was surprised that he did so.
The long ceremony was adjourned by the old wizard wishing them success, many children and unwavering adherence to their traditions. Lyra smiled tightly at him and then Draco and Lyra were permitted to bow to one another and Lyra took his arm as they headed out together, to the polite British applause of their guests.
Draco helped Lyra into the black carriage that would allow them a few minutes privacy as they rode back to the manor for the reception. He cast a warming charm over them and pulled her into his arms for a long kiss.
"So, do you feel like a Malfoy now?" Draco asked playfully, running his fingers along her arm.
She smirked at him. "Oh yes, darling. My transition is complete now that Voldemort's granddad up there told us to respect our archaic traditions and have a thousand pureblood babies."
He snorted. "Bullocks. You liked causing an earthquake and breaking a door down to get to me. Admit it."
She smiled, leaning in to him. "I did like it. I felt so cool. Was it cool on the inside? I didn't scare the kid, did I?"
"It was cool. Scorpius loved it," he replied.
"Good."
"Where did you get this ring?" Draco asked.
"It was Severus's. It has his protective enchantments, and he steered me at some old manuals to help me beef it up a little. Let me show you."
She picked up Draco's left hand and ran her finger across the ring's black face. It turned emerald green at her touch and Draco was able to hear her thoughts without the slightest discomfort.
I hope you like it. I've never done anything like this before. I thought it might come in handy when we're in a crowd, or in the bedroom, she thought at him, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"That's brilliant, thank you," he said, giving her a quick kiss. He loved the idea of having something on him at all times that she made herself, just for him.
December 2009
Malfoy Manor
Wizarding Wiltshire, England
Friday Evening
Their wedding reception was a beautiful blur of ice sculptures, champagne toasts and unfamiliar faces. There were, however, a few notable moments. Ginny's hilarious speech where she informed Draco that she'd recently changed her mind on thinking snakes were awful and would be looking for her diamond necklace in the post. The adorable moment where Scorpius cut in on his own father to steal a dance with his stepmother. The unbelievable improbability of Harry and Draco agreeing to be photographed together, provided Lyra was in the middle.
Lyra's favorite part of the the evening was after all of their more formal guests had left, leaving only their core friends and family. Lyra was resting in a chair across from Draco with her feet in his lap.
"So, what did you think, woman?" Draco asked her, pressing his thumb into her arch and making her groan pleasurably.
"Well, I love this part, but we hardly need to break out the fine china for you to rub my feet," she teased with a little smile.
"You didn't have any fun until now?" He prodded, pouting.
"I had fun, baby. It was beautiful and I'm glad we did it," she reassured him.
"Good," he said in satisfaction. "If we could pry your bloody mates from the bar, I'd like to take you home and have some more fun with you."
Lyra looked over and saw a hodge-podge of British and American Aurors getting wasted and talking shop. She smiled broadly at the sight. "Useless, all of them. They'll be fine," she said. She sneaked her foot inside Draco's jacket and ran her toe along his belt suggestively. "Take me home. I want you inside me," she purred.
December 2009
Wizarding London, England
Friday Evening
Fuck. Just like that, Lyra said to him in her mind. She was on top of him, rocking herself smoothly back and forth over his hips, Draco gripping tightly onto her thighs. He loved watching her work like this. The seductive roll of her stomach muscles, the sweat beading finely across her chest, her long hair cascading down her back like black waves. He caught the glimmer of her wedding ring in the low light as she ran her hands over her breasts for more stimulation.
God, look at you. You're so fucking gorgeous, baby, she told him trailing a hand down his pale chest. And you feel...oh my god...you feel so good. Nothing feels better than you do.
"Careful, sweetheart. You don't want me getting full of myself, do you?" He replied to her thoughts with a devilish grin.
"I'm afraid that ship has sailed," she answered with a laugh.
Draco grabbed her hard by the waist and flipped her over.
Lyra's surprised squeak faded into a husky moan when her husband pinned her with his hips and pushed his stiff length back inside her.
Are you gonna come? She questioned wordlessly.
"Maybe," he replied with a smirk. "Do you want me to?"
Lyra nodded frantically. Yes. Please. Fuck, please.
Draco groaned. He loved it when she got like this. She was pure, desperate lust and she was so fucking sexy. He had a bit left in him though and decided that he wanted to drive her a little crazy.
He slowed his pace, grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her quite roughly to the side. He dropped his head and sank his blunt teeth into the tender flesh of her neck.
Lyra keened and started moving her hips to make up for his lack of urgency. He smiled into her shoulder and pulled out of her halfway.
She actually snorted in frustration. It was clear, it was shameless and it was hilarious. He laughed and moved to look at her face, which was flushed and adorably enraged.
"Baby, come on!" She protested.
"Gods, you're so sexy when you snort," Draco told her.
Her eyes flashed at him in in a wordless challenge and her scowl relaxed into a cute pout. She gripped his ass with both hands and pulled him all the way back into her, making a sweet noise of satisfaction as she did so.
"You don't want to come inside me?" She questioned, with an offended little frown. She raised a defiant eyebrow. "Fine. Get out," she said seriously.
Draco furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. "What?"
"Go on. Out," she said and wiggled away from him. She got up and walked over to the corner of the room for the chair that rested just next to a seldom used armoire.
"Sweetheart, what the devil are you doing? I was just having a bit of fun. Get back here," Draco petitioned. He'd wanted to drive her a little crazy, not full on.
She didn't respond to him and dragged the chair over, over stationing it at the end of the bed. She looked darkly at him and pointed back to the chair. "Sit," she commanded.
"Lyra," Draco began.
"Sit," she said forcefully.
Draco sighed. He'd done it now. He'd turned his pretty wife into a nutter by withholding his cock from her. He could hardly blame her, it was a truly marvelous cock. He got up with a grumble and plunked himself down dejectedly in the chair.
Lyra leaned down next to him and he instinctively reached out for her body, but she pulled back, careful not to let him touch her. "You will stay here until I tell you otherwise, do you understand?"
Draco made to argue, but a hard look from his witch stopped him. He leaned into the armrest and dropped his chin into his hand, lips curled down in disappointment.
Lyra crawled slowly onto the bed with her ass high in the air for him to see. She then laid down on her back, just out of his reach and started running her hands over her own body. She sucked decadently on a finger and trailed it down to circle one of her rosy pink nipples. The sensation made her instinctively flex her hips and she heard Draco sigh deeply.
She ran her hands over her flat stomach and down her hips. She raised her knees and let her legs open like butterfly wings out to the side, putting herself on display in front of him.
He groaned and Lyra lifted her chin to hide her smile from him. She lightly combed her fingers through the damp thicket of hair over her sex and hummed. She drew a finger down her wet slit a few times, teasing at her clit when she passed it.
"Do you know what I think about when I touch myself, baby?" She asked him, spreading her outer lips to expose the pink flesh inside.
"Tell me," he replied, his voice thick.
"Sometimes, I think about when we used to be so desperate for each other that we couldn't keep ourselves from coming," she told him, slipping a finger inside herself. "You would rip my clothes, ruin them, just to get to me, remember?"
"Yes," he answered, feeling himself grow painfully hard.
She started building herself to climax, pumping her fingers in and out and tracing her clit with gentle swipes of her thumb.
"Mmmm," she moaned. "Sometimes, I put my fingers in my pussy and try to imagine what it must feel like for you when you're inside me."
Draco leaned forward in the chair and tried to commit her writhing beauty to memory. She was magnificent, he was concerned for a moment that he would embarrass himself in the chair, before he had a chance to get back to her. I played this all wrong, he thought to himself.
"Do I feel good?" She whispered.
He swallowed hard. "Incredible."
She smiled. "Do you want to know what it feels like? To have you inside me?" She asked.
"Yes," he whispered.
She bit her lip, pushed deep into herself and moaned. "You feel like steel wrapped in warm silk and when you come," she broke off to make a little strangled noise in her throat. "Fuck, when you come inside me it feels like I'm more yours than ever. Like we've done something perfect together. Like we complete each other."
"Merlin, you're killing me," he groaned. I am no match for her, he told himself.
"I'm gonna come, baby," she whined.
Draco made a torn, undignified sound. He wanted to be inside her so badly, but he didn't want to stop her either. It was making him crazy.
She sensed his distress and stopped. She pulled her fingers from her wet depths and sat up. "Come here."
He rushed into her arms, flattening her onto her back. He guided himself back inside and felt her body stretch around him, cradling him in her slick heat. She was right. They were made for each other.
He drove into her wildly, unable to control his speed or depth. He reached into her thoughts and found no pain, only the notion that he was giving her exactly what she wanted, exactly what she needed and she loved him madly for it. He buried himself inside her and came so hard that his vision went white and he thought his heart might explode. She followed him over the edge and pressed her face into the side of his neck, shouting praise at him and invoking the names of several deities he knew she didn't believe in.
He hovered his face over hers, trying to catch his breath. "You win," he panted to her.
"It's not about winning, baby," she breathed back.
He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Really?"
Her face broke into a playful grin. "Nah. Not this time. I played you. I played you and you fucking loved it."
Draco smiled down at her. "My wife, the snake."
She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss.
