A New Order of Wizards - COMPLETE
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
51,765
Reviews:
424
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
51,765
Reviews:
424
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Admissions
The characters belong to J.K.Rowling. I am only borrowing them for a while. No copyright transgressions are intended and no profit is made.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Updated 11-19-06
I appreciate all the lovely reviews. So - on to the long awaited...Bella, as you've been wanting - finally!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Admissions
Lucius and Hermione decided to sleep together in the same bedroom and they chose his. Most mornings in their early pregnancy, Lucius was busy handing his wife a small bucket before she got out of bed, but the rest of each day settled into a tranquil progression of routine, punctuated with various social functions and visits to friends. The months rambled on in harmony with occasional energizing arguments to liven things up. Sometimes Lucius wondered if he picked a few arguments so he could have an excuse to make up with his wife. Not that he much needed an excuse to find her under the covers, but it seemed to inspire their bed games after they’d indulged in some vigorous bickering.
One morning Snape called down the Floo Network to Lucius in his study and appeared moments later. He brushed down his floo robe and removed it, while Lucius used his wand to remove cat hairs from the easy chair. Damned cat hairs everywhere. Why couldn’t Hermione have chosen a useful owl instead of a molting furball? Lucius groused halfheartedly to himself. He knew he was firmly under that wretched cat’s furry paw, but he didn’t have to like it. Snape graciously acknowledged the courtesy and then sat relaxed in the chair as usual.
Lucius stared at the Potions Master and detected something…odd about him. “I’m honored by your visit, of course,” Lucius kept staring, “Is that…is that… an actual smile lurking there behind that sourpuss face? Hold still, I’m not sure I can see it, but…yes. There it is. Merlin’s balls, have you been swigging your own potions?”
Snape glowered at Lucius for a moment, then reluctantly let a small smile appear. “I think that little episode with your wife sent Pamela’s mind finally in my direction, probably at first for protection. But no matter why, since her thought processes can only go one place at a time, I’ve now profited. You showed such flattering interest before, I thought I’d let you know, Pamela’s breeding.
“Ah, so that ring did mean something more than a whim. I thought so,” Lucius said smugly.
“Yes, probably the same thing as that torque you always wear.” Snape lifted an eyebrow, daring Lucius to deny the obvious.
Lucius stifled with difficulty the desire to clap his hand over the hidden torque at his throat and scowled instead. He sincerely hoped Snape didn’t know about him adding the Gryffindor escutcheon next to his Slytherin one on the circlet. That was between him and Hermione. “Not at all. It’s merely a gift from a friend.”
“Named Hermione Malfoy. Yes, I know. My wife had it from Ginny that Hermione bought it for you along with a little black leather thong. I suppose your spots haven’t changed, Lucius. But I’m a bit surprised that the fierce Miss Granger would go along with your, shall we say, boudoir sports?” Snape enjoyed watching Lucius grimace at the apparently widespread knowledge of his intimate activities. “So, Malfoy, have you told her how you feel yet?”
Lucius couldn’t say either yes or no, because that would give out information he wasn’t ready to say aloud, so he ignored Severus’ pointed question, feeling that it was none of his business, in any case. “Well, anyway, congratulations, Severus. I’m not sure the world is ready for another Snape, but well done!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The months continued to roll by and Hermione’s condition showed more and more. Lucius didn’t endear himself to his wife when, in her eighth month, she went to the trouble to find a slinky black dress for a dinner invitation and his first comment on seeing it was, “I see what you meant about looking like a walking cauldron, my dear.”
Hermione knew he was only teasing her, but her spirits drooped anyway.
Lucius wrapped his arms around his unhappy wife and admitted, “Forgive me, I’m just trying to hide my real reaction to that dress. It proclaims my virility to the world and I’m extremely proud of your shape. Plus it makes me hot.” He smiled down on her and rubbed her swollen tummy.
She didn’t say that as far as she could see everything made her husband hot, but any apology from Lucius was a major victory and Hermione took it as such.
He continued, “But I won’t tease you any more about it. I do love your shape and you in it.”
Hermione stared at her husband, not sure what she’d just heard. “Well,” she said, “If that was a declaration of love…?”
Lucius interrupted her, “It was.” His arctic eyes glowed, as his sincere, but very private emotions peeked out at his wife.
“Then I love you, too.” Hermione grinned happily up at her husband’s typically indirect approach even in his declaration of devotion. She was well aware of the lasting significance of what she had just heard. In those two little words she’d just been handed her dark wizard’s heart. “Well, I guess now we are best friends.” They both went to the dinner in very good moods.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the months of their pregnancy, Lucius had sometimes lost his way a bit wondering who he was now, with his dynasty at an end. His anchor in the world had been torn away and he floundered trying to reinvent himself. His Slytherin personality demanded a high level of power and a solid place for himself, but he hadn’t truly discovered anything to replace his dynastic foundation. His confused, twisty mind snapped back firmly on the present, however, when Hermione went into labor.
“Lucius, you Slytherin slime! If you ever so much as touch my boobs again, I’ll castrate you.” Hermione went back to panting in distress with each contraction, clutching her husband’s hand in a death grip.
She was slowly gouging holes in him with her nails, but he didn’t try to pry Hermione’s hand away; she would owe him later. He already had plans for those very swollen boobs, but he felt it would be cruel to discuss it with her just then. And possibly dangerous for him. He smiled to himself. He could wait.
He stood by the bed, out of the doctor’s way, keeping her in her slightly reclining position and murmuring encouragements interspersed with little kisses on her perspiring forehead. Hermione had threatened to misplace the flail if he didn’t stay with her during her labor. Lucius had been less than pleased at first, thinking it was really no place for him, but it had turned out to be rather invigorating, commanding his wife to breathe, and timing things. Oddly enough, he felt more a part of having his child, helping her in their labor-ready bedroom. Hermione had refused to go to St. Mungo’s. Lucius enjoyed the sight of his wife’s body at any time and this was no exception. She’d torn off almost all her clothes in her labor.
Six hours and one mangled dark wizard’s hand later, new little Alexander Malfoy appeared, to the delight of his father and the tired relief of his mother. Hermione relaxed into the pillows and held her new son, examining him for all his toes and fingers.
Lucius crowed silently. This baby had all the hallmarks of a Malfoy – a thin cap of baby-fine silver blond hair and indeterminate but suspiciously light colored eyes. The Malfoy genes were alive and invading the next generation.
Lucius was mesmerized by his new child and even volunteered to hold him and carry him around if the baby was already cleaned up. A few mishaps had made him leery of any other chore. He flatly refused to change nappies after getting hosed by the baby on his expensive business suit. Hermione had tried to tell him not to wear his good clothing, but he really didn’t have any others.
But slowly, one by one, various baby items, including a day crib for new little Alexander showed up in Lucius’ study, quietly brought there by a proud father for his son. Both Crookshanks and Lucius found themselves gazing into the day crib while the baby napped, Lucius because he never got enough of watching his son, and Crookshanks because he was waiting for the baby to be picked up so he could have the crib. Lucius finally just got Crookshanks his own crib and everyone was happy.
__________________________________________________________________
This is my take on Lucius' first venture into overtly exposing his feelings. His is a very closed, devious personality. He will need time to allow more vulnerability especially to the one he truly cares about, his wife. Stay tuned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Updated 11-19-06
I appreciate all the lovely reviews. So - on to the long awaited...Bella, as you've been wanting - finally!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Admissions
Lucius and Hermione decided to sleep together in the same bedroom and they chose his. Most mornings in their early pregnancy, Lucius was busy handing his wife a small bucket before she got out of bed, but the rest of each day settled into a tranquil progression of routine, punctuated with various social functions and visits to friends. The months rambled on in harmony with occasional energizing arguments to liven things up. Sometimes Lucius wondered if he picked a few arguments so he could have an excuse to make up with his wife. Not that he much needed an excuse to find her under the covers, but it seemed to inspire their bed games after they’d indulged in some vigorous bickering.
One morning Snape called down the Floo Network to Lucius in his study and appeared moments later. He brushed down his floo robe and removed it, while Lucius used his wand to remove cat hairs from the easy chair. Damned cat hairs everywhere. Why couldn’t Hermione have chosen a useful owl instead of a molting furball? Lucius groused halfheartedly to himself. He knew he was firmly under that wretched cat’s furry paw, but he didn’t have to like it. Snape graciously acknowledged the courtesy and then sat relaxed in the chair as usual.
Lucius stared at the Potions Master and detected something…odd about him. “I’m honored by your visit, of course,” Lucius kept staring, “Is that…is that… an actual smile lurking there behind that sourpuss face? Hold still, I’m not sure I can see it, but…yes. There it is. Merlin’s balls, have you been swigging your own potions?”
Snape glowered at Lucius for a moment, then reluctantly let a small smile appear. “I think that little episode with your wife sent Pamela’s mind finally in my direction, probably at first for protection. But no matter why, since her thought processes can only go one place at a time, I’ve now profited. You showed such flattering interest before, I thought I’d let you know, Pamela’s breeding.
“Ah, so that ring did mean something more than a whim. I thought so,” Lucius said smugly.
“Yes, probably the same thing as that torque you always wear.” Snape lifted an eyebrow, daring Lucius to deny the obvious.
Lucius stifled with difficulty the desire to clap his hand over the hidden torque at his throat and scowled instead. He sincerely hoped Snape didn’t know about him adding the Gryffindor escutcheon next to his Slytherin one on the circlet. That was between him and Hermione. “Not at all. It’s merely a gift from a friend.”
“Named Hermione Malfoy. Yes, I know. My wife had it from Ginny that Hermione bought it for you along with a little black leather thong. I suppose your spots haven’t changed, Lucius. But I’m a bit surprised that the fierce Miss Granger would go along with your, shall we say, boudoir sports?” Snape enjoyed watching Lucius grimace at the apparently widespread knowledge of his intimate activities. “So, Malfoy, have you told her how you feel yet?”
Lucius couldn’t say either yes or no, because that would give out information he wasn’t ready to say aloud, so he ignored Severus’ pointed question, feeling that it was none of his business, in any case. “Well, anyway, congratulations, Severus. I’m not sure the world is ready for another Snape, but well done!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The months continued to roll by and Hermione’s condition showed more and more. Lucius didn’t endear himself to his wife when, in her eighth month, she went to the trouble to find a slinky black dress for a dinner invitation and his first comment on seeing it was, “I see what you meant about looking like a walking cauldron, my dear.”
Hermione knew he was only teasing her, but her spirits drooped anyway.
Lucius wrapped his arms around his unhappy wife and admitted, “Forgive me, I’m just trying to hide my real reaction to that dress. It proclaims my virility to the world and I’m extremely proud of your shape. Plus it makes me hot.” He smiled down on her and rubbed her swollen tummy.
She didn’t say that as far as she could see everything made her husband hot, but any apology from Lucius was a major victory and Hermione took it as such.
He continued, “But I won’t tease you any more about it. I do love your shape and you in it.”
Hermione stared at her husband, not sure what she’d just heard. “Well,” she said, “If that was a declaration of love…?”
Lucius interrupted her, “It was.” His arctic eyes glowed, as his sincere, but very private emotions peeked out at his wife.
“Then I love you, too.” Hermione grinned happily up at her husband’s typically indirect approach even in his declaration of devotion. She was well aware of the lasting significance of what she had just heard. In those two little words she’d just been handed her dark wizard’s heart. “Well, I guess now we are best friends.” They both went to the dinner in very good moods.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the months of their pregnancy, Lucius had sometimes lost his way a bit wondering who he was now, with his dynasty at an end. His anchor in the world had been torn away and he floundered trying to reinvent himself. His Slytherin personality demanded a high level of power and a solid place for himself, but he hadn’t truly discovered anything to replace his dynastic foundation. His confused, twisty mind snapped back firmly on the present, however, when Hermione went into labor.
“Lucius, you Slytherin slime! If you ever so much as touch my boobs again, I’ll castrate you.” Hermione went back to panting in distress with each contraction, clutching her husband’s hand in a death grip.
She was slowly gouging holes in him with her nails, but he didn’t try to pry Hermione’s hand away; she would owe him later. He already had plans for those very swollen boobs, but he felt it would be cruel to discuss it with her just then. And possibly dangerous for him. He smiled to himself. He could wait.
He stood by the bed, out of the doctor’s way, keeping her in her slightly reclining position and murmuring encouragements interspersed with little kisses on her perspiring forehead. Hermione had threatened to misplace the flail if he didn’t stay with her during her labor. Lucius had been less than pleased at first, thinking it was really no place for him, but it had turned out to be rather invigorating, commanding his wife to breathe, and timing things. Oddly enough, he felt more a part of having his child, helping her in their labor-ready bedroom. Hermione had refused to go to St. Mungo’s. Lucius enjoyed the sight of his wife’s body at any time and this was no exception. She’d torn off almost all her clothes in her labor.
Six hours and one mangled dark wizard’s hand later, new little Alexander Malfoy appeared, to the delight of his father and the tired relief of his mother. Hermione relaxed into the pillows and held her new son, examining him for all his toes and fingers.
Lucius crowed silently. This baby had all the hallmarks of a Malfoy – a thin cap of baby-fine silver blond hair and indeterminate but suspiciously light colored eyes. The Malfoy genes were alive and invading the next generation.
Lucius was mesmerized by his new child and even volunteered to hold him and carry him around if the baby was already cleaned up. A few mishaps had made him leery of any other chore. He flatly refused to change nappies after getting hosed by the baby on his expensive business suit. Hermione had tried to tell him not to wear his good clothing, but he really didn’t have any others.
But slowly, one by one, various baby items, including a day crib for new little Alexander showed up in Lucius’ study, quietly brought there by a proud father for his son. Both Crookshanks and Lucius found themselves gazing into the day crib while the baby napped, Lucius because he never got enough of watching his son, and Crookshanks because he was waiting for the baby to be picked up so he could have the crib. Lucius finally just got Crookshanks his own crib and everyone was happy.
__________________________________________________________________
This is my take on Lucius' first venture into overtly exposing his feelings. His is a very closed, devious personality. He will need time to allow more vulnerability especially to the one he truly cares about, his wife. Stay tuned.