Beyond the Veil -- COMPLETE

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Updated 6-3-08


Thanks to all of you who read and review. I love reading your comments. Today is my birthday, so I am celebrating by sending another chapter your way. Enjoy!!


doodle – I agree bickering is teasing foreplay. Lucius is an expert. Read on.

Heidi191976 – Thank you! Next chapter below.

sisterae – You like Atlas, the elf? He’s got his own personality. I’m not sure Lucius appreciates him or his personality LOL. Keeping a balance between Lucius and Hermione is my main concern in my stories. You always have such insightful comments - I enjoy reading them very much.

tambrathegreat - I completely agree that Lucius needs Hermione “to balance his more ruthless tendencies”. She’s strong enough to keep him interested and keep him in line. VERY soon [grin].

Ravenna – Lucius likely thinks anything he presents in the bedroom will be better than her previous experiences – and he’s probably right.

meankitty69 – VERY soon. And I may have to develop a list for substitutes if Hermione balks at the bed again. Your polite offer is accepted. You’re now signed up.

Utopia – You need to tell me what KIND of flowers for Hermione’s knickers, Utopia. Roses? Daisies? What? Possibly Lucius relative was an aging satyr. Probably runs in the family. (Haven’t seen The Producers.) Lucius may do some plumbing, but he has more important business to attend to right now. His bedroom is fairly large and quietly decorated, except for the paintings and a few other oddities. The bed IS on a dais. Your imagined view is as good as any.

The Veil had nothing to do with the deaths of either of Lucius’ “uncle’s” sons. Apparently one son murdered the other, then accidentally drowned.

Muffy – Ah, I like time travel and period stories, especially Regency England (1811-1820). I’m glad you like this pairing in this story. Thank you!

blue artemis – I like Hermione to keep Lucius on his toes (or later, on his back LOL).

pumkin – So I narrowly missed a hex? VERY soon, I promise.

jw – Hmm, didn’t think to give Lucius a diamond on his ring, too. Pooh, a missed opportunity for me. The missing bathroom is a sad jolt for fastidious Lucius. I had to do some research to make sure bars of soap existed at that time. They did, but were expensive. The Malfoys could afford it. Lucius is finished waiting. He married Hermione and now expects his reward.

Rini, the RRRR –My mouth is zipped on your exam. I suspect Hermione would be leery of jumping in the sack now with anyone, in any time period. She’s about to get over that hesitation VERY soon. And Hermione can twist the tail of a Slytherin if she needs to – she’s no pushover as Lucius knows and Draco found out long ago.

Jesse – Dodging and weaving to avoid the hex. VERY soon LOL.

helensgirl – Your good behavior will be rewarded soon. I believe your clairvoyance may come true. VERY soon (laughing). And yes, your reward will be very large – and kinda pulsing.

Angelprince – Lucius probably was in in Azkaban BECAUSE he was an extremely confident man. Too confident. Hmm, I thought I had given a URL for a hipbath earlier. If not, here’s a pic online, but Lucius’ version is designed for two people. http://news.webshots.com/photo/1169480105055404316TGTgcV.

Sheherazade – Malfoys were never choirboys. You think all the readers are wound up for the big sex scene? I think so, too. I’ve had a couple of hexes sent my way. Good thing I’m fast on my feet.

Scary Bear Hair – Scary, even your ‘whining’ is music to my ears. Yeah, no modern bathroom facilities is an unpleasant surprise. Lucius has spent a lot of effort corralling Hermione. He wants her in his bed any way he can get her.

Citten – As I remember, you like long stories with details. This is my longest story yet, so you should hold off on killing me – I may deliver the goods quite a few times – as usual.

Josie – You can come out of your corner – things are heating up this chapter. Depends on what you classify as action, however. For a freshman reviewer you are excellent. I haven’t thought of Abraxas. He isn’t a sympathetic character in my head, but it is true no one knows him, except through Lucius. Wow, you’re from Iceland? This is truly an international enterprise. Readers and authors having fun together from all over the world. Perfection!

Now, it’s bathtime!

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Chapter Twenty-Two


Bathtime

Hermione got up from her chair and wandered over to the heated bath to swish the bubbly water and enjoy the floral essence tickling her senses. When she looked more carefully at the hipbath, she noticed a small cake of transparent soap on a tiny round shelf hooked to the side of the tub. “Who goes first, you or me?”

Lucius rose and began removing his clothing, never taking his eyes from his little nemesis. “Wrong question, kitten. The question is who gets in first, you or me? The answer is you.” By now Lucius had his brocade coat off and thrown over the back of his chair. His lawn shirt was quickly pulled over his head and followed his coat. He sat down and pulled off the new black Hessians he was so proud of, with their high-polished leather and swinging tassels, then gave them a last, loving pat as he set them aside. He had bullied the bootmaker in Diagon Alley into making them that afternoon when it looked like he was going to be married that evening. Lucius always liked to look his best. Next went his stockings, then he rose and made short work of unbuttoning the falls on his pantaloons.

Hermione’s eyes danced as she watched Lucius’ love affair with his clothing; he could be adorable at times. As his pantaloons fell away, though, she blinked and stuttered, “I’m not sharing a bath with you. It’s unsanitary.” She scuttled around to the other side of the tub perilously close to the fireplace and crossed her arms over her breasts, “I’ll use the dressing room to -”

Her sentence ended in a shriek as Lucius, now peeled down to nothing but skin, lunged around the tub for his little intransigent, hauling her away from the fireplace side of the bath and lifting her up over the warm, aromatic, foam-flecked water, “Your choice – go into the water with your clothes on or naked. But you’re bathing with me, one way or another. And don’t ever stand so close to an open fire with your long skirts.” He deliberately let her slip in his arms toward the water and she gasped and wrapped her arms around her tormentor’s neck, hanging on and trying to climb up his chest away from the water below.

“Lucius, let me down this instant! This is not funny. Stop it!” Her arms clung so tightly she was half strangling him, but he merely grinned and said, “If you’ve decided, I’ll just get in and you can sit on my lap while I remove your wet things.”

Lucius made to get into the tub by raising his leg preparatory to climbing into the water and Hermione clung even tighter. “No! All right! All RIGHT! You win. Let me down and I’ll get undressed – in the dressing room – and come out in that robe.” She pointed to the small green robe lying on the rack with the towels.

Lucius pursed his lips in spurious thought, looking as though he were actually debating whether or not to accept Hermione’s offer. “Hmmmm. I think…not. You’ll find some way to avoid the bath and just prolong your apprehension. “So – with or without clothes. Choose!”

Hermione felt him drop her toward the water again and she burbled in desperation, “Without! Without! Let me down and I’ll get into the water after I take my clothes off. But you can’t watch. Turn your back.”

Her mulish expression told Lucius he’d pushed her far enough and he acquiesced with a wolfish, hard-edged smile, “Agreed, but I want your promise that you’ll do as you said. Promise me.” His icy eyes bored into hers and made her shiver with the knowledge that his surface amiability covered total implacability.

She wondered if his dominant personality was part of what drew her to him as opposed to her relationship with Ron where she had always been the stronger, more dominant of the two of them. Something broke loose within her and she finally admitted to herself that she had not liked feeling the dominant one with Ron and perhaps he had done both of them a favor. Hermione blinked back a sudden rush of tears at her epiphany, then smiled tremulously up at her demanding spouse, somehow elegant and imposing even without a stitch on. “I promise, Lucius.” At his skeptical gaze, she hugged his neck and lifted her face closer to his, planting a small kiss on his lips, “Truly. Let me down.”

Lucius didn’t know if he’d pushed Hermione past her comfort zone or not. She was showing a smile, but had teared up for a few seconds. Lucius shrugged - if she wasn’t concerned about her momentary bout of tristesse, neither was he. He had a wedding night to enjoy with a wife he hoped would be ultimately willing to meet some of his less traditional ways to make love. Bathtime first.

Lucius put down his wife and ostentatiously turned his back, crossing his arms and standing legs apart in an impatient pose. “Hurry up, Hermione. I won’t stay this way for long.”

Hermione hopped around as she pulled off her half-boots and stockings, then lost no time in removing her dress and undergarments using her wand, all the time trying to watch Lucius to make sure he didn’t peek. She slid quietly into the foamy water up to her chest and sighed silently at the water’s warm temperature seeping everywhere into her skin, blessing her with a glorious feeling of lassitude.

Lucius’ back muscles shifted and bunched as he stood beside the tub waiting restlessly for the signal to turn. Hermione took a few seconds just to map all the glorious planes and hollows of her husband’s decidedly masculine form, wasting several seconds on revisiting his butt cheeks, which were an exquisitely fond memory for her. The man was supremely well put together and Hermione emitted a louder sigh of pure, feminine appreciation. “Okay,” she murmured, sad to lose her view, “you can turn around.”

Lucius turned and gave Hermione an even better view, proudly displaying the fact that he hadn’t been mentally reciting his prison book of sermons while he’d been standing there, nor had he been affected by the cool room. Hermione was treated to a dark red, raging hard-on pointing accusingly at her curly-topped head in the hipbath. She hurriedly made room for her husband as he stepped into the bath facing her and sat down, his legs outside hers under the water. His crimson periscope disappeared beneath the surface and she lost another spectacular view. The water level rose to her collarbones with his entry into the large hipbath while it came only to his pecs.

Lucius saw Hermione trying to see under the bubbles and his wintry eyes warmed at her obvious interest in the differences between their bodies. One of his hands sought and grasped a slender female ankle under the water, pulling it up into the air while his other hand closed around the soap.

“Eek!” Hermione flung her arms up and caught the edges of the hipbath to steady herself and keep from being pulled under by Lucius’ yank on her leg. “Lucius, can’t you warn me before you try to drown me?” She gave an experimental tug on her ankle and wasn’t surprised to feel him hold onto her tightly. “What are you doing?”

“Bathing you. What did you think was protocol in a double tub?” Lucius lathered up the soap and began sliding his fingers through Hermione’s little toes earning him a giggle at his tickling of her foot.


“Lucius, I can wash my own foot. That tickles when you do it.” She looked earnestly at him as he ignored her assertion and kept rubbing her foot and ankle and started up her calf. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she offered. “About the fire, I mean. I’ll be more careful. Thank you for being so vigilant with my safety.”

“I certainly didn’t want to be a widower on my wedding night.” Lucius slid his hand around under the water and found the other ankle and lifted it in the air to begin the process of cleaning tiny toes once more.

“I hope you mean to take this evening slowly. I don’t want you jumping on me like a dog humping its master’s leg.” Hermione made another determined tug at her captured foot to no effect.

Lucius’ arctic eyes sparked and his eyebrows climbed up his forehead at her outrageous comment, a bit of irritation mixing in with the amusement of the visual that Hermione’s words painted in his mind. She certainly wasn’t pandering to his ego.

“What an absolutely delightful picture you paint of my prowess. Your previous lovers must truly have been real dogs if your idea of lovemaking consists of me spending myself on your leg. You can’t be lumping me in with those adolescent losers.” Lucius found another small toe to lovingly rub with soap. “And you needn’t worry about me taking our lovemaking slowly. In most cases, with a few notable exceptions we may explore another time, slow lovemaking is the best kind. I’ve personally never met a frigid woman. I don’t believe they even exist. But incompetent lovers? Oh yes, by the score.”

Hermione was shocked by Lucius’ observation. It was completely backwards to what she had believed for ten years. Ron and she hadn’t found much mutually satisfying in their few romantic encounters. She had just hoped time would take care of her disappointment with Ron’s performance. They were both young and inexperienced and she had brushed off her inability to find release. But when Roger Davies had also been a disappointment and he had told her she was the one at fault, the callow twenty-year-old Hermione had accepted her inadequacy, somewhat relieved to be rid of the entire trouble-making, troublesome, and heartbreaking social world of wizards.

Hermione relaxed and began to enjoy the service she was getting from a husband whose muscle-wrapped shoulders were constantly shifting and rippling as he scrubbed her lower extremities. His hair was getting wet at the ends and it was starting to stick to those shoulders. Hermione thought he was absolutely entrancing with this informal, less polished image he was sporting with his soapy chest and the slight beard that was darkening his face with a honey-colored shadow after a long day. That reminded her, “Lucius, you had rings ready for that service. How did you know we were getting married tonight?”

Lucius looked up from his tootsie toil, calculating how much he was going to tell her about his day. His head cocked to one side, further dowsing his hair in the sudsy, jasmine-scented water as his pale eyes assessed his bride’s gullibility before reluctantly deciding that his new leaf program was going to wreak hell on his predator’s instinct for secrecy.

“I’ve known for days that you were too uptight to sleep with me without some kind of guarantee of steadfastness or fidelity or whatever you want to call it. You aren’t made for one-night stands or even affairs. That type of social arrangement obviously doesn’t suit you – you’ve been running from the last one for ten years. It was a simple conclusion for me to draw that if I wanted sex with you it had to be within a permanent framework.” At his wife’s dismayed stare, he tried to explain more thoroughly, while damning his stupid ‘new leaf program’ as the worst idea he’d ever had, “As I’ve said before, I prefer marriage. I was happy as a husband with all the attendant perks and even the responsibilities, which actually rested rather lightly on my shoulders. I admit to being somewhat domineering or perhaps you hadn’t noticed that aspect of my personality.” Lucius didn’t meet her eyes, but a corner of his mouth quirked up as he concentrated on cleaning her calf.

Hermione would have scoffed if she had been able to stop gaping at this man who had been psychoanalyzing her so minutely. She was embarrassed and rather humiliated, but she knew he was terrifyingly correct. Had that ability to suss out someone’s emotional secrets been part of his success as a Death Eater? She’d heard that Lucius Malfoy always managed to find and exploit the painful vulnerabilities of his victims. He’d done it to the other school governors when he got them all to sign a document ousting Dumbledore from Hogwarts. Her husband was a very dangerous man in many ways.

“I guess that’s my main question,” she finally responded. “Why do you want permanency and sex with me when there’s a whole world of Pureblood witches available to a man like you?” Hermione slipped her foot out of Lucius’ hand and he let it go as he settled back on his end of the tub and contemplated her question.

“A man like me? You think you know what kind of man I am?” Lucius was a little hurt at her implied labeling of him as a shallow player, ready to lift the skirt of the nearest witch for a bit of one-off afternoon delight. He’d had his share of willing witches, but ninety-five percent (well, maybe ninety percent) of his bedroom activity had centered on his wife. He wasn’t anyone’s idea of a lothario.

His function as a Death Eater hadn’t included some of the more virulent attacks on women because his wife was right there with him and she didn’t want him participating in the rapes of their victims, more from jealousy than kindness, but it had effectively limited his sexual activities under the Dark Lord. He wasn’t really sorry about it, because sexual gratification from a rape victim always seemed an oxymoron to him. Moreover, the power of rape didn’t attract him because he was already powerful in his own right and his family had been powerful for centuries. He didn’t need to find a fleeting sense of superiority, sexual or otherwise, between the legs of a strange woman who was scared out of her wits.

He had killed to further the revolution he had supported, but his motives were always and forever political, protecting his family and the wizarding community as he saw it. For his views and for his crimes, he’d paid with twelve years in prison and would have served the entire twenty years if his forebodings hadn’t actually come true with the Muggles destroying the wizarding world.

Hermione saw him more clearly than he thought she did and she knew he was wounded by her comment. “Did you think I saw you as easy? You’ve said more than once that you liked being married. That argues against a playboy attitude and I’m sorry if you gathered that from my comment. That’s not what I meant. I only meant that you’re one of the most stunning men I’ve seen in my lifetime and most any witch would be thrilled to catch your attention. Allied to that you’re very intelligent, which catches my attention also. I just don’t know why you would pick me. It puzzles me, I guess. I’m not in your league for looks. Not to sound boastful, but I think I am in your league in brains. But men usually don’t choose brains to have sex with.”

Lucius chuckled, “Nor did I. You don’t see yourself as I do. I find your petite stature and big brown eyes and cute button nose very alluring. I especially like your corkscrew curls. It’s not the main reason I’m physically attracted, but I also like the challenge of your intelligence. Yet, to be honest, it’s something more than those things. There is something I can’t explain that just draws me, even when I think I should stay away.” Lucius wrinkled his nose, “Whoever said, ‘Honesty is the best policy’ should be drawn and quartered. It usually only creates unnecessary problems.”

Hermione frowned thoughtfully, “It’s the same for me too, if we’re being honest. Why should I be interested in you? I know who you are, and what you’ve done. I should be repelled, but the longer I’m with you the less important your past becomes. I’m worried that we’re not acting on our own, but as pawns in some game the Veil has set in motion.”

“The Veil again? You think it is some all-seeing, all-knowing mastermind?” Lucius accio’d his wand and made quick work of his slight beard, then sent it back to the bureau where he’d dropped it. He then lifted his own foot up and began washing it. “Let’s leave the Veil for tonight. I have more urgent business to attend to right now and it doesn’t include a sentient proscenium arch.”

“Can I?” Hermione asked, motioning for the soap and flicking her fingers at his foot.

“I’m fairly sure you can, and yes, you may,” Lucius grinned handing over the soap.

Hermione stuck out her tongue at the officious correction of her English usage and began lathering up her hands. She was presented with a large, high-arched foot, which she balanced over her knees and began delicately washing the long toes, mimicking Lucius’ earlier cleansing technique and instantly getting a small jerk against her hand. “Tickles, does it?” Hermione snickered, attending precisely to each toe, one after the other, just as he had.

“A bit, “Lucius replied, watching his wife as she finished his toes and became absorbed in the slopes of his ankle and the flaxen leg hair marching up his calf. She really was adorable with her hair curling riotously in the damp warmth of the humid hearth. And that fierce air of concentration as she memorized his calf muscle with her hesitant touch and those bright, inquisitive brown eyes. Bathtime was coming along splendidly.

Hermione wanted to explore her husband and maybe discover where that fleshy periscope had gone. Was it still extended or had it telescoped back down into quiescence? She smiled to herself. If she rubbed his feet and calves and thighs just right it might reappear like a genie out of a bottle. Following on that hopeful thought, “Why don’t these bubbles disappear?” she queried artlessly, “We’ve been in the tub quite a while.”

“Do you want them to disappear?” Lucius twinkled at her, his astute guess at her not so innocent question making her blush. “I can make them subside if you wish. I merely chose to keep them here for your modesty.

Hermione wanted to see him, but she was not ready for him to see her, so she shook her head and saw Lucius cock his head to the side, his pale, gray eyes tracking down her chest to the foam where her breasts were hidden. A blush started at the water line and marched up her throat to her face, coloring her cheeks a rosy hue as she attempted to look busy scouring his knee.

“Is that knee clean enough yet? It feels like a layer of skin has been removed,” Lucius smiled quizzically at his industrious spouse, gently pulling his leg down and away from her. He wished he could see where that blush had originated. At Hermione’s grimace of embarrassment, Lucius lifted his other leg, “Work on that one for a moment while I wash my hair.” He set his other ankle on Hermione’s knees and lifted his hand, “Accio, shampoo.”

They both waited, but nothing appeared. “Maybe there is no shampoo in this time period,” ventured the witch as she began caressing Lucius’ second foot and ankle with the soap.

“Perhaps not,” frowned her husband, “or maybe there is none here. I guess I’ll have to use that soap. I don’t really like to because my hair is dry enough without using regular soap on it. But I don’t want to use a cleaning spell again. It’s time for a thorough wash, so the soap it is.” He held out his hand for the item and Hermione passed it over, clutching at Lucius’ foot to keep it propped up on her knees as he dropped under the water and came back up with his hair sopping wet.

Hermione’s heart beat out an erratic triplet as she saw Lucius with his hair slicked back on his scalp by the water. My goodness, she breathed, enthralled, that man is a sex magnet no matter what his hair looks like. She was very glad she was immersed in the tub so Lucius wouldn’t know she’d just added a modicum of her own wet to the bathwater. She rather thought something soft and heavy and interesting might have touched her toes when he slid down in the water, bringing his buttocks toward her momentarily. His second leg was still splayed outside her hip and she was beginning to wish she had the courage to wash something other than his knees. Seeing him lather up the soap, she rushed to offer before her shyness overcame her lust, “Lucius, I’ll wash your hair for you if you like.”

Lucius wordlessly handed back the soap and twisted in the tub, wriggling his hips between her legs and backing up all the way to her sensitive core. He settled his hands on her thighs disconcertingly high up and then he surprised her by sliding his back down her front slooowly, until his head was even with hers. Her breasts tightened almost painfully from being rubbed with his firm back muscles and she was aware that he could probably feel her nipples poking rudely into his back. She could certainly feel them. At that moment all she wanted to do was take a bite from that seductive place where his neck joined his shoulder just as he’d done to her earlier in the day. She fought the almost overwhelming impulse, rigidly sitting there with a very large, tantalizing male who began nuzzling his head back into her chin.

“Hermione?” asked Lucius, when seconds ticked by and she made no move to lather up his hair. With his head turned away, Hermione couldn’t see that Lucius was wearing a sly, self-satisfied smile that would have told her she was being played by a master. Lucius swayed his torso from side to side as though he were merely getting more comfortable, but he could feel those protruding nipples she was stabbing him with just as well as she could – perhaps better. A smothered feminine gasp told him he was lighting a feral fire within her and it was about time, because he was going to boil the water away soon with his own unrestrained heat.

He began running his hands up and down her thighs from knee to groin and back under the water waiting for his hair to be washed; the intimate sensation of his hands near the place she was craving him snapped her out of her trance and she speared his hair with her fingers, soaping up the strands and marveling at the fineness of his pale mane. As Hermione massaged his scalp and rubbed up and down the length of his hair, Lucius undulated more of his body weight against his bride’s breasts in a fair imitation of a large jungle cat being petted. He nearly purred with the deliciously tactile whorls she was gliding though the slick strands and his scalp.

Each circling of her fingers was traveling straight to his erection, which hadn’t abated at all during their ablutions. It was probably as well Hermione hadn’t wanted the bubbles to disappear, showing him at his best. Each sexual revelation and exploration in its own time, he grinned, luxuriating in the impromptu shampooing. Lucius was a patient lover, knowing his partner’s excitement would increase his tenfold. Somehow her nearness was soothing and arousing to him at the same time. Her tender ministrations were relaxing him so much he was nearly comatose with pleasure when she finally pushed at the smooth, warm skin of his shoulder claiming she was finished.

Hermione was nearly delirious herself from being flattened and rubbed simultaneously in three very erotic places on her body. She didn’t want to stop, but she also wanted to find out what happened when Lucius rubbed his front against her. She bravely petted the side of his newly shaven, silky-skinned face as she gave his shoulder a gentle shove and Lucius took advantage of her titillated senses by turning to face her as he practically lay in her lap, coming eye to eye and nose to nose with his softly flushed bride.

tbc...


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The next chapter is THE ONE!! YAY!! Please review? You can rate the story below on the right side if you wish.

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