The Wedding - COMPLETE

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Updated 4-26-07 Th


I want to thank all of you for your wonderful reviews. I wish I could show you how you affect my writing and how much you bring to my stories. I guess you'll just have to take some credit for yourselves for what you're reading. How's that?


Some answers: Leah - the name of one of the Quidditch teams is the Bristol Bombers and that's what I was referring to in the chapter. However, your point is taken anyway. I hadn't mentioned the team names in the chapter and I should have. The only time I referred to the teams' names was in chapter 19, "Liquid Lunch", So I am going back and adding a sentence to mention the team names again. Thank you.


And BuffyXO Harry was mentioned in Chapter One - sorry, but he's dead. Ron will get a mention a bit later.


For the Snapers in the crowd, this short one-shot by DuckLord about him is really cute.

http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600008526


On to the berkers...uh...burgers.
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Chapter Twenty-Seven


Burgers and Chips


Ginny and Hermione walked into the living room of the Snape home while Lucius followed Severus to the back of the house. Ginny sat on her blue brocade sofa rearranging the throw pillows so Hermione could sit next to her. “You haven’t been here recently. I’ve had the floors redone, mostly the wood refinished, and I got some new carpeting for the upstairs. I don’t think Severus even saw how threadbare the old stuff was getting. I like the new charcoal gray better than the old boring brown. It really makes the bedroom cozy. Want to see?”


“Sure. Lucius has gray in his bedroom too. Did you choose the gray or did Severus?” Hermione got up and followed Ginny up the stairs.


“Actually, we did it together. He leaned toward the dark gray I think because black and such are bred in the bone for him. But I managed to get scarlet bed hangings and covers, so we sort of compromised. I rather like the overall effect.” Ginny came to her bedroom door and opened it to show Hermione.


“Oh, yes, that’s very pretty. I do like those colors together. The ebony wood furniture sets off that scarlet. It’s dramatic, but inviting, and the warm ivory walls are a foil for the dark colors. It’s rather like a scarlet oasis in a sea of shadows. Very dramatic.” Hermione was looking at the bed hangings when she noticed two hooks about two feet apart, set into the ceiling above the foot of the bed. She almost asked what they were for, but something stopped her. Instead she admired the silken cover on the bed and the silver ornamental statues of two ibises on the bureau, then heard Lucius calling her. In relief, she lightly ran back down the stairs toward her husband’s voice, Ginny following.


“Hermione, Severus is barbequeing our burgers. Did you want cheese melted on yours? It’s cheddar,” Lucius asked her as though he’d done it a thousand times before. He looked blandly at his wife, daring her to say anything snide.


“Uh, yes, I guess so. We can come out and put our own toppings on the sandwiches. Lead the way.” Hermione dropped back to walk with Ginny as they started down the hallway out to the back terrace where Severus had a high-end barbeque which he was adroitly cooking the burgers on.


“I’ll put on the chips in the kitchen. I’ll be just a moment. Go on out, you two.” Ginny went into a side doorway and disappeared.


Lucius had finally learned from Snape what the Muggle food was but he was not happy at having been left to flounder, even though he’d done it to himself. He hissed at his wife, “I don’t want to hear a word about burgers or chips. If I like them, they can become part of our menu. But no gloating or they won’t see the light of day at our table. I don’t have to like everything Muggle, just because I married you.”


Hermione wrapped her arm around her husband’s and pulled him down for a kiss. He came grudgingly, but when she merely said, “Thank you,” he was mollified enough to tell her he’d learned a bit about how to barbeque from Severus. “But don’t expect to see one on our terrace anytime soon.”


Ginny brought out the chips, Severus got the ale, and they sat down at the picnic table to eat. Lucius watched the others carefully before attempting to make up his own burger, but he soon got the hang of the Muggle food and found he was a mustard and mayo man. He rounded out his creation with a bit of lettuce and a slice of tomato, but passed up the onion slice – it didn’t do to burn one’s bridges just before bed. He noticed his wife didn’t choose onions either. Excellent.


Between bites of delicious burger, Lucius wondered what other things the Muggles had invented that he might like. He still had to break in his black vibrator, but he already knew he liked that invention. The cultured blond wizard managed to drop several glops of mayo/mustard on his pristine black wool trousers, but after seeing a particularly nasty drip of mayonnaise find its way down the front of Snape’s black robe only to be zapped with a negligent wand, Lucius merely used his napkin to wipe up his own excess, zapped his pants with his wand as his friend had, and continued eating with obvious enjoyment.


Hermione sipped at the ale and didn’t drink much of it, but she was thoroughly enjoying her burger and began slathering ketchup on her chips. She saw Lucius put a few drops on his chips in imitation and try them that way. Then she saw him pour a lot more ketchup out and start dipping the chips in the red sauce with uninhibited gusto. Seeing Lucius licking ketchup off his fingers gave Hermione such intense pleasure at his willing adaptation she was amazed at herself.


Lucius was an extremely clever man, but his wife hadn’t seen much flexibility in his personality before now. His antiquated notions of Pureblood supremacy and his hidebound arrogance toward the ‘lesser’ magic folk including the elves hadn’t led Hermione to suppose her marriage was going to be anything but a disaster.


But Lucius had proved her wrong several times recently. (His muddy hair came to mind.) At the moment he was thoroughly focused on his burger and fries just like any other red-blooded, sports mad male and Hermione’s heart warmed to his relaxed attitude as he walked on the wild side (for him). She was more hopeful than ever lately that they could build something good between them.


Two hours later Lucius and Hermione said their goodbyes to the Snapes after thanking them for the delightful meal. Once outside, they apparated home directly into Lucius’ bedroom. Lucius eyed his wife, “I suppose you’re staying in my bed again tonight?” Onions aside, he didn’t know if he wanted her to say yes or no. He was getting more confused by the day around her. Should he retreat and protect himself or advance and find out what she might be offering? The Muggle meal had been surprisingly good.


Hermione just said, “Of course.” And she started to undress, walking toward the bathroom to get ready for bed, with Lucius staring after her in bemusement. She did her evening routine, finishing with brushing her teeth, and strolled back across the bedroom, sliding under the covers of the bed, naked as usual.


Lucius had divested himself of his clothing in the meantime, and was just standing at the foot of the bed, looking at his wife.


“Did you want something, Lucius?” Hermione asked sleepily, covering her yawn with a dainty hand.


He shook his head. He was still trying to make up his mind about how to treat his wife’s blatant assumption that she was welcome in his bedroom when an innocent question made him change mental gears.


“Lucius,” Hermione said languidly, half-asleep, “Ginny and Severus have two hooks in the ceiling above the foot of their bed. What are they for?”


Lucius tried, he really, really tried, to maintain a calm, disinterested expression, but a little, unruly smile fought its way out of the side of his mouth. He sternly quashed it, but it was too late. Hermione had seen the telltale twitch, plus his eyes were sparkling with some sort of private delectation, giving away his amusement to her anyway.


She woke up a bit at his reaction and sat up again, “What? You know what they’re for, don’t you? Ooh, something sexy, huh? Tell me, Lucius. How come we don’t have hooks, if it’s something sexy?” Hermione was a little put out that she didn’t have hooks if it had something to do with a sexual adventure with her handsome husband. Nothing could be as bad as anal sex.


Lucius couldn’t keep his expression straight any more. He laughed, feeling mellow from the evening’s pleasure, “I suspect that our friends are playing at master and slave, or at least stringing each other up for some bondage.” He instantly saw that Hermione got a feral gleam in her eyes. She was still interested in alternate lovemaking after her squeamishness about anal sex? Lucius cocked his head sideways, a sudden, banked savagery peeking out of his own icy eyes as he contemplated in his mind’s eye his wife strung up for his own hedonistic recreation. Then she jolted him again.


“That reminds me. Lucius I’ve been thinking and I believe it’s my turn to spank you.” Hermione eyed the end of the bed. “If we had hooks, I could hang you up and spank you, couldn’t I?” She sat, looking innocently at her mate, her breasts in plain view with the covers fallen to her waist.


Lucius gaped at his wife in total surprise and not because of her rosy, enticing boobs. She was certainly turning into a carnal little package. He thought about submitting to her instead of having her hanging from the hooks. He’d done turns at that before, of course, but he hadn’t ever imagined her as a dominatrix. He wondered why he’d not thought of her that way. Maybe because she was so petite, but she was a very strong personality, or she couldn’t have used the purple vibrator on him. “If I’m going to install hooks, I get to use them first on you. Then maybe you can have a turn.”


“That’s not fair, Lucius. It was my idea. I can install hooks as well as you can. Then I get to go first.” Hermione thought he was being totally selfish about not letting her smack his firm, muscled butt first.


“Absolutely not!” he shot back firmly, “You never thought of it first. You didn’t even know what the hooks were for. You probably figured they were for clothesline to hang up knickers,” Lucius scoffed.


As Lucius was uncomfortably close to her initial thoughts, Hermione didn’t deign to answer his tacky rejoinder. She crossed her arms under her breasts in anger, breathing in a great lungful of air in order to remonstrate further.


But Lucius had finally been caught by the vision of a lovely young female absently plumping up her breasts with her arms. He crawled up the length of the bed from the foot, approaching her on all fours in a leonine sway that made her completely forget the hooks. He continued right up over her, pulling her covers off and backing her onto her pillows before settling himself down almost on top of her and leaning up on his elbows. “Touch me, precious. I’m going to take your mind right off those hooks and right onto my ‘grinding hips’. A beguiling smile hovered on his lips.


Lucius’ hot icy eyes were promising heaven and Hermione was very thankful she had decided against those onions. She reached under Lucius and found his beautiful, firm, male flesh, so hot and hard and ready for her. Her fingers coasted up its length and settled near the end, surrounding the glans and rubbing it like it was a doorknob.


Lucius’ cock jerked once and then he said, growling into her shell pink ear, “Squeeze it hard. Harder! Yesss! Ah, Gods, scratch the tip the way I like. Sssssss, oh, Merlin, that hurts so good.” The tip of his cock wasn’t entirely healed from their previous love play in the kitchen, but the minor pain actually excited Lucius more, “Yes. Just like that, precious. Your little hands have magic fingers.” He spread his own, larger hands through her hair, holding her in place while he pulsed between her fingers in rising ecstacy. His back arched and bent as his cock was alternately milked and wrung out by Hermione’s knowledgeable, loving technique.


Lucius was so vocal and responsive, it was easy for her to know what he liked and to make it happen, sometimes even before he could tell her, now that she was so much more in tune with his body.


He was getting close to his finish, so he disengaged her tiny, throttling hands and spread her legs apart, seeking her core with his distended organ. A quick touch to see that she was truly wet, then he thrust home in one smooth surge. They both froze for a second as the first tremors began. Neither wanted it to end just yet.


When they had both managed to avoid spinning over the edge into madness, if only for a moment, Hermione whispered to her husband, “Deeper, my love. I want all of you inside me, stretching me, filling me up with you. Only you. Always you.”


Lucius shivered at the intimate words his wife was plying him with; his breath hitched in his chest at her obvious, emotional outpouring of affection. For him. Lucius felt she was bombarding his very soul, and he was afraid, plain and simple. She was offering him too much, making him need something that he was afraid would be snatched away, couldn’t handle, had fought to protect himself from. It would drag him down and make him vulnerable to her. No, he didn’t trust her enough for that. Lucius pulled out of his wife and sat back on his heels, forgetting all about his promise to grind himself into her. His heartbeat was threatening to pummel his poor, abused organ right out of his chest.


Hermione sighed inwardly and just looked up at her conflicted wizard, seeing past his cool, remote facade to his absolute terror at her words. His remote, arctic eyes were anything but remote – for her, they were a direct pathway to his soul. She’d thought they had perhaps gotten past his need to protect himself, but apparently not – not yet, anyway. She was never going to give up on her proud, difficult husband if it took her the next fifty years. He was hers, all hers; he just didn’t believe it yet.


Lucius picked up his tiny wife and turned her over. He heard her immediate screech, but he merely said, “No, precious - no anal sex, not tonight. Just relax. I want your luscious, little pussy from the rear, that’s all. Trust me.”


Hermione heard his plea, and wondered mournfully why he wanted her trust all the time, but he would give her none of his own. She supposed it was a step forward, his even wanting her trust. She was going to need a great deal of patience to pry open and melt his frost-bound, stubborn heart.


He pushed her down by her dainty shoulders and pulled up her hips, reinserting himself into her moist, sizzling channel. Gods, that felt good! Lucius leaned forward on his elbows and reached under her to grab both her soft breasts and tweak the nipples hard, as she liked him to do. He felt her relax and lunge back against his tool, wiggling on him and impaling herself more, and he gratefully took the hint, thrusting deeper, feeling more in control of the sex, and better able to enjoy himself without having to acknowledge any of the disappointment he knew he deserved to see in his wife’s sweet face.


He took over and sent his staff on a frenzy of discovery into her furthest reaches, surrendering to her potent, scented allure, and bringing them both to the edge of intoxicating bliss. Lucius kissed and nipped her nape as he slid his hand down through his wife’s hot, dewy thatch and thumbed her swollen nub, making her buck wildly in delirium, while listening avidly as she gave him what he loved to hear. She screamed his name, rising to a shriek, and tumbled into nirvana, dragging his pulsing cock over the cliff with her.


They collapsed together, Lucius half comatose, lying on top of his wife, but using what little consciousness he had left to tuck her under him safely as she seemed to like, before he succumbed to Morpheus. His protective, emotional barricades had been breached badly tonight and he had exhausted his reserves trying to repair them against his loving, little precious.

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Better late than never. I've been trying to get this pic onto a web site where all of us could see it and the owner of Portrait Planet graciously added it to her web site. It really fits best with Chapter 17, "Invitation to the Dance". Caveat: if you're easily offended by mild, quasisexual visuals, don't bother looking at it.

http://www.portraitplanet.com/pirateguy.jpg

And for those of you who like Jason Isaacs, Portrait Planet is a wonderful site for information on his characters and movies.

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Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry, I was looking at the pirate guy photo again and got distracted. PLEASE REVIEW!! (Okay, back to the pic.)
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