The Wedding - COMPLETE

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Updated 5-2-07

Some replies:
Firewall A slight nod in this chapter to Hermione doing something besides lunching and shopping. For you. Sorry - I attributed your comment to Lustblood and thank you, Lustblood for pointing out my error.
LazyDaze Uh, no foursomes. Or this story would have to go into Threesomes, Moresomes. 8-)
WeasleyWench Percy's real name was David Sledge. I have that movie ("The Last Minute"). I love Jason Isaacs!

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Chapter Twenty-Nine


Roses

Two hours later, a relaxed Hermione was meandering from the bathroom to the bedroom wrapped in a big, fluffy black towel, when Lucius entered the room.


“Tell me we aren’t having burgers tonight,” Lucius quizzed his wife, entertained by her concealing terrycloth attire; some of her best features were covered up, but she really had beautiful legs and those little scarlet toenails beckoned. He slowly circled her small body, looking for the end of the towel, which she was jealously guarding. Lucius had played this game with her before, but this time she didn’t want to be sidetracked into bed. Later, definitely, but not now.


“It’s almost time for dinner. Get away, Lucius.” She shooed him off with one hand while firmly holding onto her towel with the other. “I need to dress and don’t offer to help. We both know where that ends.” She backed away, sidling over to the bureau to open her lingerie drawer, feeling around for her underclothes, while all the time watching her husband who seemed to be in an unusually amorous mood, even for him.


“Very well, we’ll continue this later.” He bowed mockingly, his pale hair falling gently forward over his shoulders, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He disappeared into the bathroom, allowing Hermione to select a matching set of underthings and sprint to the walk-in closet before Lucius returned. She dressed in an elegant, formal, scarlet red cocktail dress with sheer stockings and her diamond stilettos, leaving the closet just before her husband returned.


Lucius halted, stunned by his wife’s beautiful appearance, “You look ravishing, precious. Shall I wear a tux?” He was captivated, but confused by her elegant apparel, “Are we going somewhere besides the dining room?” That dress would have to come off if they went where he suddenly wanted to go. It would be an extremely short trip. Lucius eyed the distance between Hermione and their bed. Maybe five paces?


Hermione shuddered inside at the idea of seeing Lucius in his tux again. The last time hadn’t been entirely pleasant. “Uh, no, I like your black fitted robes better, and no, we’re eating at home. We’re just dressing up to the red roses on the table.” Hermione sat in the comfy chair to wait for Lucius to don his black dress robe; she really didn’t want to see that tux again anytime soon.


When he emerged from the closet, Hermione got her familiar jolt at his virile, good looks and drew a shaky breath in admiration. That severe black robe always made her want to rip it off him. Later, she repeated to herself, definitely later, but not now.


“Lucius,” Hermione stood up and walked toward her husband, “now that you’ve taken over the estate business again, I’m going to return to doing some research for the Ministry. I can do nearly everything from home with your large library. I’d only need to send an occasional owl with my findings and replies to requests. It’s not my cup of tea to have nothing to do. Floral arrangements are relaxing but not especially time-consuming or absorbing. I can do most of the research the same hours you do your financial work.” She put both hands on his chest and looked up earnestly at her mate, “I’d like to set up a place in the library if that’s okay. And I’d like to resettle your ancestors’ portraits elsewhere.”


“You can resettle them in the dustbin for all I care. Work if it makes you happy, but can you call it something else?” At Hermione’s blank look he explained, “If and when I’m released from your custody I wouldn’t like the magic community to know my wife has,” Lucius looked like he’d bit into a lemon, “employment. A retro idea I know, however, it would make me feel as though I couldn’t provide for you. Perhaps you can call it volunteering - that would serve. After all, you don’t need the money.” Lucius added as an afterthought, “But I don’t want you bringing large tomes or rolls of parchment into our bed.”


Hermione was so pleased that she didn’t have to row with him over her desire to work that she agreed immediately to the volunteer idea, giving him a big hug around his waist and rather disconcerting him. “I’ll start tomorrow. I can ask Achilles where to put the portraits. She drew her arm through his and they whisked in to dinner.


As they entered the dining room, Lucius was impressed with the ambiance of the room. It was always in perfect order, but Hermione had added tall white tapers, a lace tablecloth, the ornate, antique cobrahead Malfoy silverware, and his best Slytherin design porcelain dinnerware.


His inquisitive mind was awakened by all this pomp at his dinner table. The few times Narcissa had bothered to create anything extra for them, she had done something wrong and had needed him to repair it, change it, or cover it up. Lucius began to experience a slightly hunted feeling as he sat down to the sumptuous meal, with course after course being introduced, and none of it burgers. After half an hour of quiet eating and occasional, idle conversation, Lucius had had enough. “Please, just tell me - what is going on?” He raised one arrogant eyebrow warily, “did you do something I’m not going to like?” Lucius wondered if he now had a scattering of cat doors all over his mansion or if Hermione had smuggled in another Muggle artifact. Then a lighter thought occurred, “Or was this to induce my acquiescence to your research?”


Hermione ignored the disenchanted eyebrow, “I was going to save it for dessert, but it looks like you’ve put a depressing spin on our celebratory dinner, so I’d better tell you now, so you can enjoy the rest of the food.” Hermione got up and went around to Lucius’ chair, yanking it out a little with him in it, and squeezing onto his lap. She reached up and stroked her hands down either side of her husband’s smooth, recently shaved face, “I found out we’re expecting our first little recruit into your fearsome future army of Malfoys in about eight and a half months.”


Lucius was dumbstruck. Was she saying…? “You’re pregnant? ALREADY?”


She kissed his lips although they were slack with surprise. “Apparently, you’re not so toothless after all, Lucius. By my calculation you must have successfully planted your seed the first night we were together. No wonder Arthur wanted you under a Muggleborn thumb. You could probably have a whole regiment marching in no time.”


“But how can that be? It took Narcissa years to get pregnant. I had despaired of a child with her. Her doctor said there was nothing wrong with her and he implied it was my fault.”


Hermione leaned back in his arms and said sardonically, “Well, we’ve definitely dispelled that rumor.” She idly played with one of his fabric covered buttons as she mused, “Her doctor must have been completely incompetent, or there was something murky going on. Did Narcissa want children?”


“She…no, she didn’t. She hated being pregnant.” Anguish filled his eyes. “I guess she was actively avoiding it. It’s hard for me to take in. She knew I wanted heirs.” Lucius’ mind was reeling at the perfidy of his ex-wife. It was a few moments before he realized he was still holding his wife, his pregnant wife in his arms. “Precious!” A smile broke out on his normally severe face, almost blinding Hermione with its sheer exuberance. “You’re pregnant!” he announced to his patient spouse.


“I know, Lucius, I told you, remember?” Hermione said, amused. “I guess this makes us just a little more married,” she said, hugging her bemused Blondbeard swashbuckler. He’d certainly used his cutlass to good effect. She giggled to herself. He could swash her buckle anytime.


“Shouldn’t you be lying down?” Lucius worried. “You need your rest. We’ll have to institute daily naps for you and only nutritious meals. And lots of milk. What else?” Lucius suddenly looked crestfallen for a minute, but manfully took on his burden, “That means no regular sex until after the baby is born. We can do other things, just not penetration. Oh well,” he brightened, “we can be inventive, I’m sure. If you don’t mind, that is. I’d like to have some forms of sex with you, but I’ll understand if you can’t.” He tentatively placed his hand over her still-flat belly, stroking the scarlet material delicately.


“Are you CRAZY? Hermione was instantly incensed, “I’m not giving up regular sex for eight and a half months! Hand jobs blow! What are you on about, giving up penetration? Not in this lifetime.” Hermione jumped down from his lap and turned to glare at her husband.


“I can’t,” he mourned, “I’ll hurt the baby. I’m too big. I refuse to endanger our new life for a few fleeting jabs of my cock. It was the same with Draco.”


“Poppycock. And ignore the pun. I’m not going to really turn into Saint Hermione just because I’m pregnant. I think you must have misunderstood. Either that or Narcissa was lying. We don’t have to stop having sex, Lucius.”


Lucius was starting to growl in irritation at his irresponsible wife, “You should be ashamed, Granger, not caring about our baby’s welfare.” Perhaps he would never be happy in his marriages. Narcissa didn’t want any sex and Hermione wanted too much.


Hermione stamped her tiny foot. “Lucius, you’re being totally unreasonable. Making love isn’t going to hurt the baby or me. I’m barely half a month along. Nothing happened last night, did it? Where did you get such antiquated ideas?” Hormonal Hermione was ready to scream with vexation at her husband’s intransigent attitude. She been so hot for him all during dinner that she would have been willing to use his black vibrator in any orifice he chose, including any of hers. Instead, just as his self-serving inclinations would have come in handy, the idiot was finally discovering nobility. What had she ever done to deserve a husband who was so overly protective he wouldn’t touch her until after their baby was born? She was going to drag him to the doctor before another day was through. Eight and a half months of no sex with Lucius? Never!


“Narcissa’s doctor told me I was too big for her during her pregnancy and you’re even smaller than she was. I can’t take the chance.” Lucius thrust his chin out, resembling nothing so much as a stubborn blond mule.


“Consider the source, Lucius. He also implied you were all but infertile. So Narcissa virtuously gave up sex for the duration of her pregnancy? Otherwise she was as hot for you as I am? Use that twisty mind of yours. This has all the earmarks of something you might do to get your own way. Slytherins!” Hermione said in disgust. She knew the stories of Narcissa’s bed hopping and their estranged marriage. “I think a certain ex-wife sold you a load of dragon doo-doo through her specialist. Do you really believe that all men who are hung like Olympian gods quit having sex with their wives during their pregnancies?”


Lucius snorted with amusement, waving a deprecating hand, “Please, only one of the lesser gods. So…you’re hot for me?” He heard the important message, glossing over the rest. He smiled and pulled her back onto his lap again, but then he sobered some to explain, “We’ll have to disagree on this. You may be right, but I still can’t take the chance. I won’t change my mind, at least until we consult another doctor.”


Hermione huffed, hunching her shoulders in pique, “I am nothing like her, Lucius, not in size, not in personality, and definitely not in fidelity. “From most accounts, it sounds like she continued being ‘virtuous’ with you even after Draco was born, but found time for every other wizard with a functioning dick. You’re going with me to the doctor just as soon as I can arrange it. I’ll have you back in bed by tomorrow night if I can.”


Lucius hugged Hermione and kissed the top of her curly head, “So let’s get back to the fact that you’re hot for me, huh, precious?” He loved repeating that, leering wickedly, “Oh, I’m quite willing to be in bed with you. Just no penetration – for you. My body, on the other hand, is totally negotiable.” He lifted his wife and whisked her upstairs, leaving the entire rest of their dinner to grow cold. The elves came in and cleared up the dining room, snuffing out the candles, but leaving the roses on the empty table, their lovely scent drifting without appreciation in the deserted room.


Hermione started removing her gown and accessories the minute Lucius put her down, tidying them away into his closet and bathroom hamper, reminding him that she had settled herself into his territory permanently. He asked her, “Is your taking over my bedroom like nesting? I read about that when Narcissa was pregnant, but she never seemed to be overcome by the compulsion.”


“Nesting?” Hermione echoed, at a loss. She was busy lining up her heels in their closet next to his wingtips. She measured the lengths, noting her shoes were only half the length of his. He really had enormous feet. Well, that makes sense, she sniggered to herself.


Lucius appeared at the door of the closet repeating in a louder voice to get her full attention, “Nesting. Women start getting a space ready for when they have a baby. Cleaning, tidying, settling into a cozy place in preparation for the birth. I think you’re doing it quite a bit early, though, according to the book. I’ll have to hunt it up again. It’s probably somewhere in the library.”


“You read a baby book? How sweet, Lucius.” Hermione smiled mistily at her mate from the closet floor where her shoes now resided in harmony with his. He really did have quite a few redeeming features she could work with. She left the closet completely starkers, wandering past Lucius over to the bed to climb in, yawning widely, even though it was a bit early. She was suddenly extremely tired.


“Sweet? Merlin’s balls! SWEET? What an abominable thing to say. I told you, I don’t do sweet. I was just trying to work out what was wrong with…” Lucius stepped back from his next words. His intimate failures with his ex-wife were not for discussion with the new one. “Anyway, it was just general research. I wanted to be educated on childbirth in preparation for Draco.”

He sorrowfully watched his sexy spouse tumble into bed, wishing she hadn’t told him about the baby until morning. Maybe it was early enough that sex wouldn’t hurt the baby yet. She had a point about last night. Nobility took a momentary holiday as he hurriedly doffed his own clothes and slid into bed beside Hermione only to be confounded by the soft snore that greeted him. His lovely, pregnant wife was dead to the world. He grinned at her and ruefully tucked her slumbering form under him the way she liked, attempting to keep his futile erection from being crumpled. Tomorrow was another day.

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So, finally!! And only Twenty-Eight Chapters into the story! Couldn't just have a simple pregnancy, though. Another small twist. I hope some of you are now satisfied. Reviews gratefully received!!
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