Disclosure Hp belongs to JKR. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux
Decisions
Upon returning into his body, Lucius reached a third decision, he would never, ever, let her go.
Her blood wasn't an issue, his government advocated equality for the Muggle born. It had been a tactical move to ensure their loyalty to the Wizarding world. He had long studied the failure of many leaders, Wizard and Muggle, and he'd advocate unity.
Lucius had given exalted jobs to several Muggle born, many chosen by his witch. He knew that the secret to rule for a long time was to pretend. Although nobody would question his decision, he would have to act smart.
He would hire the best curse breakers for Potter and Krum and start an investigation long overdue. He no longer cared who was the one doing it; whoever was, even if old friends, let them pay. It was all tied to Draco's disappearance. He had seen a pattern he chose to ignore. He already had some theories he had dismissed as unthinkable. Such as the twisted witch who tortured him, he was nearly certain. So let it all come out. He could see the 'dead's resurrection, so be it, but he would make sure they stayed dead. He suspected a fake suicide, dark magic, and some more.
Then, Lucius remembered the Malfoy law and smiled briefly. He was certain that even Draco wouldn't be mad at him. After all, he was still a good father because he had secured the witch for his son.
As far as he was concerned the precious witch had proven her magic was very strong, so strong that the house had allowed her to get pregnant even when Draco wasn't her legal spouse.
Lucius placed his hand over Hermione's forehead and rearranged her memories, for her own good he told himself. It was necessary, this way she wouldn't run out and endanger Scorpius.
Once it was done, he woke Hermione up and loved her again; he fervently wished to be imbedded in place for days, for the rest of his life. She was Eden, a gift from across the layers. She was his to keep; his to enjoy and to feel around his aching need for hours, days at a time, until his body could give no more. At those thoughts, he smiled crookedly.
He would do that as soon as they arrived to their destination. They had loved each other for hours, until she slept exhausted, so he let her rest. THE NIGHT, this night, was still young; it was just a little past 1:00 A. M.
He showered and dressed, mostly, because he didn't want to share her scent with anyone else. It was too exquisite and only for the Malfoy wizards, a privilege for the chosen ones. To surprise them all, he went into Draco's wardrobe and chose Muggle clothes. Black trousers, black shirt, a dark grey jersey, with his wand, he trimmed his hair and braided it. Long locks were out; time to modernize. He chose a short dark robe, looked in the mirror and was pleased with his looks. Let everyone wonder. Oh, yes, be ready for the big change, traitors; Muggle clothes were in, amongst other coming changes.
He knew several worldwide magical communities wanted the British to come into the modern times. He he had heard they had cells ready to help the rebels should they succeed. Well, let them offer him his services to flush out the traitors; the rebels succeeded; they just didn't know yet.
He was charged with magic, full of energy, good feelings, and strength; he was fully awake and didn't need to sleep. He went by Narcissa's conservatory, correction, not Narcissa's his, to cut some choice flowers, no elves, he would do it himself.
He no longer mourned Narcissa; she had manipulated him to be Lady Malfoy. She was a high paid courtesan, that was all. She gave him his son, and she had been paid, that was all she was. He suspected what she really was, more than suspected.
The Black sisters had used him; his prodigious mind had connected many dots; Bella pushed Sirius into the veil because he had known his cousins, and Sirius was going to tell. Indeed, much was their doing. He smiled, what they didn't know was that a Malfoy always left trap doors open for later use. What they really didn't know was that nobody got away with their crimes against a Malfoy.
He had figured a great crime and had the chance to correct it, later he would do it, later. As soon as he found Draco.
He cut the flowers laughing, the rusty sound not often practiced. He fixed a beautiful bouquet just like the Muggle witch long ago. She used to come to the Manor to make the flower arrangements and taught his mother and her young son. Ophelia, that was her name. Ideas were flowing, forming a plan. He would find her family.
He snickered at the idea of thinking so many naughty words all at once. He was probably twelve the last time he used such words when his father convinced the they were bourgeois, ha, ha, another way to perpetuate their insidious indoctrination about sensuality. He was liberating himself of the old chains, or that was the way he saw it. His plan was taking more shape, it would need some sleuthing.
He left the flowers by his desk with a note for Axel to deliver to the Mistress when she woke up, and with other detailed instructions to send for her things from her former home, to include pets and what not. Then he went into his vault and brought out his seal and a small box.
All while the memories of the last hours were circling in a non-stop, self-propelled, erotic-carrousel, which merrily went around his mind, with the Muggle songs in the background. For the first time in his life, he had lost count of his pleasures. There were highlights of the events, their first kiss, the consuming desire, first seeing her sex, her sex opened to him, his cock in her, drinking from her sex; and to top it all, one decadent mouth around his aroused prick giving him pleasure beyond his sorry imagination. Never mind, when she had swallowed his seed.
Thinking about it, he was erect at once, and this brought him pride, as well as his newly acquired crooked smile. He had turned into a sensual being, one buried under piles of lies, he had been tied with chains that made him bitter, blind, and dark. He knew secrets which might change today and tomorrow. Why? Because what he had been told about several events was one more lie.
He suspected some dead were alive and were master puppeteers, ha, ha; he would sleuth. He needed to get more information, later, much later, and let the dead go into eternal sleep.
As soon as he entered their room, he took his shoes off and stretched his body beside her. He leaned over and uncovered her.
Then with great care, he opened her legs and after inhaling her private scent, he moved until his tongue was between her still glistening folds. And he had thought it was dirty, please, let the gods allow him a good laugh. He had been a repressed angry fool, not pure, ah yes, he had been pure, a pure idiot, so much for the old teachings which were rubbish.
"My witch let me have just a small taste of this magical place; it is needed to bring me comfort, and to sustain me while I am gone," his voice was barely audible, and only with his tongue, he made a dainty pass that made his body harden further, in response. Fuck, she is delicious.
He chuckled whilst caressing her trimmed mound with his knuckles, barely touching, who would have guessed that Lucius Malfoy was such a sensual creature. His body ached in places he didn't think possible.
Such a small witch and so full of special knowledge, he mused. She had done wicked things to parts of his body; he still couldn't mention them even to himself, just the thought of some made him blush.
He lifted her hand and deposited an air kiss. "Your fingers and tongue are precious things, only a Malfoy is worth of their touch. The things you did to my body," he smiled naughtily and chuckled with a juvenile sound recalling his private naughty memories, remembering her fingers going into, well. He truly had an untroubled and mischievous mien for the first time in his adult life.
"Your small hands did things that I wouldn't have allowed before you and would have said deemed them unmanly; yes, say it, I was a fool. What a clever little witch." He touched her cheek.
All the memories of the tawdry encounters, of the violation, forgotten. With her touch she had erased the incident, no longer worthwhile his fears. All the bad memories were gone, cleaned, erased and replaced with memories of hot pleasure. All the years of being played by others gone. New memories who let him figure out much.
He chuckled once more. His fingers went around her belly; he loved the glow when they got close. Twice he had felt Scorpius-Draco moving around; he was a strong Malfoy, one of the future rulers of the Wizarding world. Soon, he would be able to see more into her belly, in about four weeks. He couldn't wait for the viewing.
He planned for an army of babes, what a great goal, a brood of curly-silver-hair little angels calling him Papa. And the pleasure of making the little tykes made it his best endeavor.
"Son, your mother is a queen, you are very lucky. Her acceptance is total, the old Malfoys whose blood runs through the Manor welcomed her with open arms. I must have been blind. Just a little while ago, I saw her face already engraved above the mantel." He kissed her belly, and poked gently where Scorpio's belly was in his nice home.
"It is a great honor you know? There are only a few, only three during our long history, since the arrival. The stone has moved with us. I hadn't looked there for a long time. It has been there since THE NIGHT of the ball, the date was imprinted; I was right, you were made during a night of great love. I was lucky to see it."
Then his eyebrows knitted together, to a thought that crossed his mind earlier that day. Voldemort and his father had told him falsities about the marital bed, about sex, and about the Muggle born. Who knew what else was a lie. He knew that most of what he knew, or maybe all, were lies fed to him, his entire life.
Lord Voldemort, he could understand, he was fairly asexual; however, his father also had shared his views. No wonder neither of them had ever smiled, he thought with a touch of uncharacteristic good humor.
Seriously, they were the ones who told him that sex was merely a body function to be taken care every few days. That any Muggle-born-witch was poison, full of lascivious, and dirty intent. They were nasty and just touching them you would die of disgust.
They say the same about the wizards. So why had Andromeda been so happy with Ted? Cissy had told him they were debauchers, that she had seen them rutting like animals, lucky them. No wonder Andromeda was gone, living with the Muggle husband, his witch's uncle, and two new babies, smart witch. He wanted to see her, to offer his support.
Why did they lie? He thought of a possible answer, because they believed those wanting to destroy the Magical race.
Who would have created such portentous deceit, Muggles? Nah, his sharp mind quickly dismissed this theory and thought better. Muggle born had a lot to lose since such belief brought them no gain, just more persecution.
Hence the ones at fault had to be Pureblood women. They had weakened the magical lines, out of jealousy, instead of learning like Andromeda had. Well there were exceptions, the Weasley, happy, and again, blood traitors, he saw the large picture.
Severus had been of the opinion that mixing was necessary to renew the blood lines, just as in the animal and plant kingdom in order to infuse fresh magic and to renew weakened chains. Interbreeding reinforced weak traits and recycled magical cores. His only friend had been right. He was a portentous wizard, and so was Voldemort, both begotten by Muggle fathers. And how about Harry Potter, another example. It was the only way to save the magical world.
Draco was smarter than him, but then Lucius had always known that each Malfoy generation was more powerful and smarter than before, and he could only imagine about the new heir.
Under his charge things were about to change, he had a lot of planning to do.
As for her, for his witch, if anyone called her a Mudblood, and he would have feelers, and snitches to tell him, they would have their gut bursted open, moreover, he would show no mercy. Of course, he would need to hide it from her. No, maybe he wouldn't do it, forget the killings. He smiled again, he hadn't noticed his chuckles and smiles, no wonder his face muscles hurt. He had another theory, no so new, darkness calls darkness, thus no more killings. The feared change had begone.
Before leaving, he placed a ring on her hand. A little insurance, it wouldn't come off. It would enable him to find her. He suspected that sooner or later her powerful mind would break the modifiers, and he would be ready.
Then he took care of the rest, gave notices, wrote scrolls, and tied all loose ends. He called Draco's best friends to assist him, at the end of the day they were the only ones he could trust.
A/ So where is Draco?