Hidden Meanings

Disclaimer: Not mine, sorry!!!!!

pinkwands: Lol, you know I love you too!! I am sorry, I can't be your private fanfic author, that will be like me asking Alan Rickman to only perform for me... *sigh*

mary Samantha and ripewickedplum12: Update, and I am glad you like it so far. Samantha, as for why Hermione's doing this... well....

cyador, angel, Anon, and tdiaw: Update for you as well. I am glad you are already intrigued.

Citten: No, I promise to not leave any lemonly details out... some lime in this one.

Gaps of Misery: I think that if you look closely most stories, no matter what genre follow a similar generic pattern, as for the plot bunnies, well, ones already hopped in.. argh! Narcissa is a right bitch isn't she, and I am glad you like the humour, I am trying to make this one a romantic comedy.

Malfoy's Marriage Plans

Lucius closed his eyes, as he could not believe his luck. He was back in his Mansion, and back where he belonged. What a wonderful young woman Granger turned out to be. He was almost pleased that she managed to escape from his clutches in those previous times. She tasted nice to, he walked into the sitting room and then he turned to look at his reflection, and frowned, as he saw his appearance dishevelled, and rough.

He scratched at the beard, and then patted his head. He looked down at his robes, the same robes that he had worn two years ago. They were ragged, torn, and not worthy to use to dust the mansion with. He sighed, as he poured himself a glass of Ogden’s. He hadn’t had a glass of his favourite poison for a long while. He rejoiced in the burning sensation as it slithered down his throat and immediately warmed his insides.

He then caressed the banisters and sat on the stairs. He actually hugged the banister support and almost wept for joy. He composed himself just in time, and then he swept back his hair and walked up the stairs taking them two at a time. So what, he had no house elf, but he knew he was capable of looking after himself. He was a Slytherin, and that is what Slytherins are best at.

He went immediately to his bedroom. He lay down on the glorious black silk bed sheets and rejoiced in the soft warm touch, he went to his side and stroked the soft material and kissed it. He was very glad to be home indeed. He got up from his much missed bed and went to the en suite. He decided he would spend as long it took to make himself clean, and pure again.

“Why did she do that?” he asked his reflection.

“What’s happened to you?” the mirror sneered.

“Shut up,” Lucius growled.

“You look like the back end of a warthog!”

“Do want to be smashed?”

The mirror immediately became very quiet indeed. It wasn’t the first time that it had been threatened, but he knew other mirrors in the Mansion had suffered this dreadful fate.

Lucius opened the cupboard door and brought out a de-tangling lotion, and a razor. He tested the razor for bluntness, and it was blunt. Lucius then brought out the sharpener and began slashing the razor on the sharpener. After a few strokes the razor was sharp enough to tackle his bushy beard. He was NOT going to be a blonde Hagrid.

He began shaving the beard, and blonde swirls fell at his feet. It took him twenty minutes at least to shave the beard off, and when he had finished he began to feel more like the old Lucius Malfoy. He then poured some de-tangling lotion onto his hands, and lathered it around his hands. He put it on his hair. He picked up a silver metal comb and began pulling at the tangles from the bottom. For the first time in his life he had cursed having long hair. Even with the help of the lotion, (brewed by Severus, grudgingly,) it still took forever to work all the tangles free, or so it seemed.

“Trying to impress someone are you?” The mirror asked in a bored tone.

“Yes I am as a matter of fact,” Lucius drawled. “The future mistress of the Mansion.”

“Oh, yes Narcissa told me all about her plan. She couldn’t wait to get rid of you. It seems you have become a degradation. So who is going to be the unfortunate woman?”

“A Miss Hermione Granger,” Lucius said smugly. “43 years old, and I can still attract the younger women.”

“Huh! She must have been desperate,” the mirror snorted.

“I can smash you at any time convenient to me,” Lucius growled.

Lucius brought out some Muggle shampoo and conditioner, and body lotion he quite liked. Lynx had that air of youth about it, and he felt that he had a sort of spiritual connection with the animal. They were a sort of cat, but they were proud animals, and rather attractive.

He turned the hot tap on to fill his beautiful shell like bath, and he closed his eyes and let the steam surround him. Two years since he had a bath. And now, here he was in his own bathroom. He grabbed a bottle of sandalwood bubble bath and poured a whole load in. He felt an odd shiver run up and down his spine. He could not wait to step into the bath and wash the mud and grime of Azkaban prison off. Ironic, he mused, I feel cleansed because of a Mudblood.

He turned the cold tap on and he watched the bubbles engorge and swell. He swirled his arm in the water to make sure the bath had an even temperature, and when was nearly full he turned both taps off and slid into the bath. He laid back and let his long hair drape over the bath, the ends of his hair slightly dragged on the floor. He laid his arms on the rim, and closed his eyes. He was immediately thinking of her, and when he thought of her, like the previous two times he had; he hardened.

Damn! He only liked being pleasured by someone. This would prove uncomfortable. The sooner he married her, and had sex with her the better. Two bloody years of frustration, and need, had crashed in on him at once and he had no outlet for it. He should have asked her to stay the night.

~*~*~

Why did she do it? Hermione asked. “You idiot, did you think that he’d leave it at perhaps a kind favour or two?” she said aloud. But she was desperate. She wanted to get rid of the Dark Lord so that Harry could be left alone, and perhaps Ginny would stop complaining. She looked at her reflection in the mirror.

“Something on your mind dear?” The mirror asked. Normally Wizard mirrors were rather more truthful than needed, but Hermione had managed to find one that liked to talk because it was lonely.

“I’ve avowed a promise that my friends would not like, in some ways they’ll see it as a betrayal,” Hermione sighed. “I was the one that rescued Lucius Malfoy, and he said he’ll help me if I marry him, and give him an heir.”

“I heard that he’s not bad looking, I wouldn’t mind him staring in me everyday,” the Mirror replied cheekily.

“That’s not the point, he’s a Death Eater, and a big one at that,” Hermione said. “I don’t even know why he wants to marry me. He’s supposed to want me dead.”

“You’re not that bad looking you know, and perhaps being in prison has made him evaluate his life,” the Mirror said.

“You know an awful lot for a mirror,” Hermione said.

“That’s the advantage of being an object, dear, I have no emotions and therefore can look at the problem logically. It seems as if he has his reasons.”

“I would understand if he wanted me to HELP find him a wife to bear children,” Hermione sighed. She released her ponytail and let her hair flow freely down her back. “I have to see him, today. I can only presume so that he can marry me as soon as possible.”

“Would you really mind that dear?” the Mirror asked.

Hermione sighed, and shook her head in resignation. She decided to have a really good bath, she would shave her legs, and under her arms. She took some Mango and Peach bubble bath, and poured it under the tap. She was only hoping that Lucius was feeling more relaxed than she was.

The bath was soon run, and she stepped into it. She sighed with contentment as the bubbles caressed her skin, and she picked up a blue loofah and began soaping her body. She picked up her razor and some shower gel matching the bubble bath and lathered it on her legs. She shaved one leg, and then the other. She then lathered some shower gel under her arms, and began shaving her pits. She then dunked her head under the water. She picked up a bottle of herbal essences shampoo, and smiled. She loved the smell of peaches. She washed her hair, and then she conditioned it. Not that it would do much good. It would still be bushy at the end of it.

“I hope that is suitable for his High and Mighty!” Hermione exclaimed, as she scrubbed harshly at her skin. Breakfast that morning had been uncomfortable. I am doing this for Harry, she thought, we don’t stand a chance without his help. She found she couldn’t tell them, she had planned to tell at least ONE of them, but she realised not one of them would understand. Hell, she didn’t even understand.

Hermione then unzipped her make up bag, and began applying liquid foundation to her skin. She then put a layer of powder. She brought out a brown kohl pencil, and began lining her eyes. She curled her lashes with brown/black mascara and then she applied a light blue eye shadow all over her eye lids, and then she applied a darker blue shade at the lower of her lids, she then put on a light frosted pink lipstick just to make her lips stand out a bit.

“You look lovely dear,” the Mirror said.

Hermione then put a drying charm on her hair, and then she brushed and combed it. She surveyed the over all effect, and satisfied, she walked out of the bathroom, and thanked the mirror.

She walked into her bedroom, thankful that the noisier of the Weasley children had decided to pay a visit to the twins, and so that left just Remus and her on their own. Remus was a quiet man, and he more often than not, minded his own business.

She flung open a wardrobe door, and picked out a rather smart navy skirt and jacket, and picked out a blue blouse to go under it. She opened her underwear draw, and decided to go for her satin blue bra and knicker set. She yanked out a pair of tights, and found a pair of blue strappy, high-heeled sandals. She got herself dressed and looked at herself in a muggle full-length mirror. Oh yes, she thought, very smart.

She plaited her hair at the back, and she smiled. She looked perfect for a rather impromptu wedding. Unless Lucius might just want to talk the details with her, she hoped he would. She added a squirt of perfume on her wrists, and under her ears. She walked out of her bedroom door, and squared her shoulders.

“Where are you going, Hermione, Ascot?” Remus asked she visibly jumped.

“No, I haven’t got a hat,” she wittily replied. “Look, Remus, I have to go somewhere for the day. In fact, I am not sure when I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Remus asked, his strong warm Lancashire accent spoke volumes to Hermione. She was of Yorkshire connection, and because of this had always felt at home with the Werewolf.

“Just trust me, Remus,” Hermione said. She laid a comforting hand on his arm. Ever since Tonks had died she found he was talking to her more, and it made her uncomfortable. It would be strangely like Oedipus to like him in that way, as he could almost be her father.

“Oh, all right, Hermione,” he sighed. He placed his arms around her waist, and placed his lips on hers and kissed her properly. Hermione drew back and gave him a startled look.

“Remus, we could never be, you must know that,” Hermione said.

Remus looked down into the warm eyes of the young woman before him.

“I can’t stop hoping though, can I?” he said, and he hung his head down. Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat, and a swell of pity rose in her heart. Tonks had been his life and world for a year. He had not let go of her properly. Hermione tilted his chin up and smiled at him.

“You’ll find your peace one day,” she said softly. “Dora wouldn’t want you to be miserable.”

“Listen,” he said, as Hermione was just about to walk down the stairs. “Whenever you change your mind, I am right here.”

Hermione turned her head and smiled.

“I will, don’t worry,” she said. She felt awful for giving him a false hope.

She walked out of Grimmauld Place with a heavy heart, and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

~*~*~

Lucius woke up with a dull ache in his stomach, and he could see visible signs of his dream about Hermione. She was under him, begging, pleading for more. He was sorely disappointed to find out it was just a dream.

She was glorious in his dream. He was not going to disillusion himself for too much though. He weren’t going to set his hopes and dreams too high otherwise he would only be disappointed when she would turn out to be just average.

He groggily crawled out of bed, and went back into the bathroom. He was sorely in need of another bath. It would seem to take ages to get the grime of prison off his body. He ran another bath and found signs of another beard starting to form on his face, and he shaved it off immediately. He was careful in not cutting himself, and then the bath was run. He picked up his Lynx body wash, and slipped his body in the bath.

He had just finished his bath, and wrapped his body around in a black silk robe. He dried his hair, and then he brushed and combed it. He would have to look his best for her. She had, after all, risked everything for him already.

He was about to get dressed, when he felt his wards disappearing. She was here? Then what time was it? He looked at a clock on the wall. 11:00am! She was punctual. She had to be didn’t she.

He decided to give her a bit of a shock. He knew he looked more like his former handsome self. All he needed was his sexual need to be seen to. He leant over the banister and saw her standing in the middle of the vast hallway, she was looking around her. She was not certain of what to do next. Oh gods, he could just fly down the stairs and take her now.

He decided to get her attention. He wolf whistled at her and she jumped, and then looked up, and saw him leaning down. His robe was beginning to loosen as she was awarded with a view of his chest.

“Stay there,” he said. “I’ll come right down.”

He ran down the stairs feeling like a young schoolboy again. He swept her up in his arms and picked her up.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear.

“That’s all right,” Hermione said in a tone that did not conceal her bewilderment at this display of affection.

He set her down on the floor, and she blushed, as she ran her hands down his neck and onto his chest. Lucius could feel her body heat and smirked.

“I am sorry for my rather indecent appearance,” he said. “I will not be long in making myself decent for you.”

“N-no need,” she stammered. “I am staying with a lot of men. I am sort of used to seeing things I shouldn’t.”

Lucius tried not to get an image of Hermione seeing Arthur’s private parts.

“I would feel better for you, if I were properly dressed. It seems you’ve made an effort for me, it’s only fair to return the favour.”

“Have you eaten?” Hermione asked, as she stepped back to examine him critically.

“No,” Lucius said.

Hermione sighed. “Where are the kitchens?”

“How should I know, I never had occasion to use them,” Lucius said, shrugging his shoulders.

“All right, where’s your house elf?” Hermione asked.

“Currently working at Hogwarts, and is a free house elf,” Lucius answered.

Hermione coughed awkwardly, and blushed again. She sighed again.

“All right,” she said. “I don’t really like to Magic food, but its necessary.”

She pointed her wand at a table and a plate of sausage sandwiches appeared.

“Thank you,” he said. He pulled her nearer to him, and swiped a stray lock of hair out of her face. He kissed her nose chastely and then went to the sandwich, and as soon as he finished it, another appeared. It seemed it was never ending. He smiled when he was full. The plate seemed to know, and didn’t make any more appear.

“Satisfied?” she asked.

“Mostly,” he replied. “Follow me.”

He walked over to the second door on the right, and he opened it. Hermione followed. Lucius looked down, and liked what he was seeing of her legs. He couldn’t wait to have them over his waist.

“We have to talk about our marriage plans,” Hermione said. “We need to find someone we both trust.”

“Not very many of them around,” Lucius said truthfully.

“You’re right,” Hermione said.

“Already our marriage looks to be a happy one,” he murmured, “if you keep that up I might just fall in love with you.”

“Don’t get used to it, Lucius,” she replied sarcastically. He sat back and smiled, his grey eyes twinkling happily at how smart she looked, she was only eighteen for Merlins sake, couldn’t she be a bit less formal in her dress and hair braiding.

“I do know someone we could trust,” Lucius said, eyeing her warily.

“Snape,” Hermione said in a cold tone of voice.

“You read my mind,” he said. “Look, I know what he has done, and believe me, even I was shocked. He is one of my oldest friends, and he’s depressingly asexual.”

Hermione snorted. “Really?”

“Either that or he hasn’t found the perfect ingredients to match his,” he said. “And he wants to keep helping your side, I know he does.”

Hermione waved her hand. “Yes, all right then. Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

“You won’t. Not when you see the Dark Lord fall, you won’t.”

“How are we to get word to him?” Hermione asked.

“Easy, Hermione, floo powder.”

“But I thought -!”

“Now, you are going to have to stay here,” Lucius said. “I don’t want you out of my sight.”

“You’re acting like you care about me, I thought that you were the last person in the world to be jealous.”

“I am a jealous man, Hermione, and I don’t want any member of the Weasley family to get their hands on what I feel I can rightly say is my property. You agreed to marry me, Hermione, and that makes you mine.”

Hermione looked at the blonde man sitting opposite her. A small part of her wanted to jump up and run out of the room in indignation. But for the most part she knew he was right. She had agreed to become his. Another, slightly more wicked part of her, wanted to jump up, and sit on his lap, and explore every crevice of his body with her tongue and hands.

“Tomorrow you are to send an Owl to Madam Malkins to come here and sort you out with a wedding dress, and I will talk to Severus,” she looked at him dubiously.

“Separate bedrooms,” she said in a firm voice.

“Separate bedrooms?” he asked. “Oh no, we’re practically married. I want to share my bed with you.”

“SEParate bedrooms,” she said in a tone that would not take no for an answer.

He sighed; she was harder than he thought. By the end of the day though, she would have changed her mind.

A/N Cookies go to those that can guess the plot bunny. Review please.