The Wedding - COMPLETE

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Updated 4-14-07


I hope you all know that your reviews keep me writing. Thanks to all your generous comments, I already have an idea for my next story, which will probably debut soon after this one is over. I'm a one-at-a-time story writer. I don't know how the multiple story authors can do it, juggling several plot lines. I'm in awe. I just have a one-track mind, I guess. Oh - well, I knew I had a one-track mind, but in this case, I meant in developing story plots. 8-)

And I have a favor to ask. If you read any of my other stories PLEASE leave a review there. I check all the time, review-slut that I am. I'd appreciate a response on those stories if you'd be so kind.


I hope this next chapter pleases...
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Chapter Twenty-Four


Just Sleep


After dinner that night Lucius invited Hermione to join him in his study and she accepted, quietly thrilled at his offer. They apparated together and sat on his sofa relaxing with after dinner drinks. Hermione knocked off her heels and insinuated her feet onto Lucius’ lap, claiming they were cold. Lucius drank a firewhiskey but Hermione opted for hot tea. He waved his wand at the few portraits on the wall, sending them all into the hallway outside to be moved elsewhere tomorrow. Nosy ancestors were hell on intimate conversations.


Hermione asked a question that had gnawed at her scholarly mind for a while, “Lucius, why can I apparate Muggle items places I want them to go, but I can’t use the accio command on them to bring them to me? That doesn’t make any sense to me.”


Lucius swirled his firewhiskey in his crystal tumbler and contemplated her query, “It’s the magic. You can use your magic to transport anything, Muggle or Magical, because you imbue the item for transport with magic by touch, but you can’t ask a Muggle item to move itself to you, because it has no intrinsic magic of its own, unlike everything made in our world or by our hands.”


“Hmmm, well, I suppose that does make sense after all, but it’s incredibly inconvenient for me sometimes with all my Muggle possessions. If I put magic-made bows on each of my slippers, would they carry the entire slipper to me?”


“Possibly, if the magic was strong enough in the bow to lift the inert slipper. Just buy magic slippers and save yourself the effort.” Lucius couldn’t understand Hermione’s sentimental attachment to such dull, useless Muggle objects. But he had another topic that needed discussion. “Hermione,” Lucius began, “I’ve been working on the quarterly figures for the Ministry and they’re finished now. I’ll need to take them in to Arthur tomorrow. Can you be ready to accompany me in the morning at nine?” He added, “My appointment is for ten. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay with me while I talk to Arthur unless he is willing to release you from guard duty while we discuss finances. I have no idea what he’ll decide so be prepared.”


“How long will it take?” Hermione asked, absently rubbing her toes along his inner thigh. He was so toasty warm it felt wonderful on her feet, which had been exposed to the chill in her delicate sandaled heels. Maybe she should get some boots.


“I’m not sure. This is the first time we’ve met to discuss these quarterly figures.” He began to idly rub Hermione’s feet as he talked. “I’m not sure what or how much information he will want from me. I’ll need you to carry some of the parchments if you would. I’d rather have too much information than not enough.” Lucius expanded, “Next quarter I’ll have a better idea of what he’ll ask about.”


“Of course. If we finish in time for lunch can we go out to a restaurant?”


“I suppose,” Lucius replied less than enthusiastically. He wasn’t sure how he was going to feel after having to sit with Weasley and explain his forced work.


“What’s wrong, Lucius? We don’t have to go to lunch afterward if you don’t wish to,” Hermione didn’t want Lucius to feel he had to please her. Then it occurred to her that his meeting with Arthur Weasley wouldn’t be to his liking. It probably wasn’t her lunch request at all, but the visit to the Ministry that was upsetting him. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking. When you’re finished with Arthur, what would you like to do? Did you just want to come home?” She reached over and sifted his hair through her fingers. “Your hair is so soft. I’m jealous. I use all kinds of conditioners but mine never feels like yours.”


“We can go to lunch if it doesn’t take too long at the Ministry. But perhaps we can try a new restaurant.” Lucius didn’t move his head so Hermione could continue stroking his hair.


Hermione had an idea, “I could take you to Muggle fast food. Our meals are always so formal and traditional, not to mention multi-course. You might like burgers.


“No thanks. Whatever ‘berkers’ are, they sound inedible. I’d probably be poisoned by Muggle-prepared food.” Lucius disdained the idea out of hand.


“Wimp,” taunted his wife. “For a notorious Death-Eater, you certainly are squeamish.


“If you want ‘berkers’ have the elves make them. Just what does ‘wimp’ mean – are you impugning my courage,” Lucius inquired, “or my eating habits?” He pulled her onto his lap, grimacing as her bum flattened his still slightly sore cock.


“I’m impugning both at once,” she teased. “Are you still sore from last night? I’m really sorry. I never meant to harm you. You just tasted and felt so good I guess I went a little overboard. Am I still invited to sleep with you tonight? I promise not to touch anything.” Hermione wrapped her arms around Lucius’ neck and pressed her nose to his, so they were both cross-eyed trying to see each other. He backed his face away and looked at his sprite of a wife, trying to understand her. “Why do you want to sleep with me if I can’t perform?”


“Perform?” Hermione laughed, “What an odd word for making love. You sound like you’re going to break out in song or do handstands. I just like to sleep with you, even if sex isn’t on the menu. You seem to sleep just fine with me in your bed and it’s certainly big enough for both of us.” She tugged on his neck, her arms still around him. “Say yes,” she commanded.


“Very well, you may stay with me tonight. But it isn’t going to be an automatic arrangement. I want you to understand that.” Lucius removed Hermione’s arms and wrapped her in his arms instead, snuggling her head under his chin. He breathed in her special bouquet, wishing his dick didn’t still hurt.


Hermione smiled, knowing Lucius couldn’t see her face. She inhaled his unique scent, going a little crazy as usual with his essence. As far as she was concerned, she was moving her toothbrush into his bathroom permanently. “Yes, my love.” She felt Lucius’ arms tighten almost painfully around her, but she never made a sound, just let the idea sink into her husband slowly.


Lucius snapped, “Please don’t say that. So many women have said that to me…” Lucius didn’t know what else to say. It bothered him when she used that affectionate term so loosely.


Hermione leaned back and gazed assessingly at Lucius, seeing more than he really wanted her to, but she said nothing else.


Lucius uneasily looked away from his wife but offered, “Are you ready for bed? We have an early morning and a long day ahead,” he reminded her. He picked up his firewhiskey, tossed back the rest of it and set the glass on a side table. “The Quidditch game is tomorrow evening, so maybe we can work in a lie-down in the afternoon,” and as he heard her draw breath to speak he quickly said, “A lie-down. No sex.” Hell, he was starting to sound like a starched up old maid. But just the thought of seeing Arthur tomorrow was making him twitchy. He wanted some recovery time before the game. Sleeping next to Hermione sounded good, though.


Hermione just laughed and said, “Lie-down. No sex. Got it.” She mimicked his earlier smart-mouthed comment about civility after crotch-licking. “But I do get to ‘lie-down’ with you, right?” Oh yeah, her toothbrush was definitely switching bedrooms. Poor Lucius.


Lucius picked her up and whisked them into his bedroom. He helped her off with all her clothes and tucked her into the cool satin sheets, shushing her when she complained they were cold, “Don’t be such a wimp,” he mimicked, “the bed will be warm soon enough.” He doffed his clothes, disappeared into the bathroom to brush his teeth, then came back to the bed, pushed her aside and shimmied in beside her.


“I didn’t get to brush my teeth. I can’t just go to sleep without brushing my teeth.” Hermione looked forlorn, but she secretly had her own agenda.


“I don’t know why not,” Lucius grumbled, “just use your wand to clean your teeth if you must, or ‘accio’ your toothbrush.” He saw her pout and said, “What!? Now the toothbrush is Muggle, too? Apparate to your room and get your stupid Muggle toothbrush if it’s such a problem. And get your slippers and a robe while you’re in your room. You always seem to need them at inconvenient times. I’m going to sleep – I have an early day.” He turned away and pulled the covers over himself, settling into his pillow.


That was what Hermione wanted. She grinned and apparated to her room, bringing back several items of hers which she placed in his bathroom and his closet. After brushing her teeth, she happily slid back under the covers and settled her cold feet against Lucius’ bum.


“Shite!” her husband jerked up and away from the little ice-blocks freezing his butt, shocked at the icy intrusion just as he was nodding off.


Hermione held her breath as Lucius turned over and glared at her, but he didn’t chase her from his bed. She kissed him on his nose and lay down, wrapping her arms around his waist, and tucking her head under his chin. They both fell asleep within a minute.


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So our blond stallion is slowly being herded into domesticity and he's either clueless or not fighting very hard. But he's extremely skittish and slipping a halter on him will take patience. And sex - lots and lots of sex.

Shhh, don't scare him off...

Okay, you can review now. He's asleep.
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