Beyond the Veil -- COMPLETE

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Updated 7-7-08

Kudoes to you all for the fasinating theories. I apologize for not being able to respond to them. But you're an inventive bunch!

stormflora – We are just past halfway through so far. As reviewers comment, it sometimes sparks more chapters, and definitely more story additions woven into the chapters.

onduril – My old German professor would be proud. Frankly, I really must not answer if Lucius is the real heir or he has been inserted by the Veil as a sham heir. The story needs to unfold more.

LadyVoldemort87- Absolutely no offense was taken re the purple vibrator issue. It was quite interesting to discover people were shocked LOL. I’ve read much worse at AFF – gory, cruel, etc. so that Hermione’s adventure with Lucius seemed rather tame to me. He liked it anyway.

To me Lucius has it in him to be cold and unfeeling, but so does everyone. When he runs up against Hermione he unfolds with more depth and some hidden parts of himself he usually keeps protected. He’s a complex character to me. Neither black nor white. But he has feelings like anyone else. He’s not a cardboard villain to me. I’m trying to like Narcissa, but it’s difficult. I guess she would be okay as long a she isn’t married to Lucius, so for me the marriage always has to go. Poor Lucius is always callously divorced in my stories. I do hope you return for the next chapter – I’m sure Lucius will be naked again soon!

Jesse – Thank you, Jesse. I always appreciate your input.

sisterae - As I said above, Lucius will never be entirely housebroken nor would we want him to be, I think. Hermione may be a bit overwhelmed now, but let her catch her marital breath. She’s no pushover.

tambrathegreat – Our couple has now got most of their separate fears and worries out in the open. For Lucius, the lure of Hermione’s intelligence is irresistible.

blue artemis – If you can’t decide between reading about the prophecy or the sex next, I’ll help you out. LOL I think those two are going to learn more and more about each other – and the prophecy.

Gryffindor_Slytherin - I may have missed a good scene by not having them caught in Hermione’s old workplace. Oh well…

Xcrissy – You have raised an interesting question of their final destination, the past or their destroyed present. Apologies, but I won’t answer that for now. 8-)

Utopia – I can see Lucius as Darcy – easily. Except Lucius’ ego and snobbishness are the sources of his haughtiness, and Darcy’s was his shyness (and a bit of snobbishness, too). I agree that Molly would be a good Mrs. Bennett, but I don’t like Molly much. Yeah, Lucius on his knees was an indication of his regard for Hermione. Read toward the end of chapter twenty for Hermione’s substitution of the word ‘obey’. [bowing for your standing ovation] Some of your questions must wait. Hermione doesn’t truly need a ladies’ maid to get into and out of her clothing. If Lucius isn’t available, she uses her wand. Handy things, wands. Ditto for her hair. She will be getting dressed for an outing soon. No knees are needed. Ah, looking at wedding dresses is great fun, isn’t it? Thank you for the URLs. They’re excellent.

pasen852 – I’m very happy you’re still enjoying the story.

Malfoysplaymate – I love that you ask questions. The questions themselves are so cogent that I won’t be allowed to answer right now. Next bit coming up!

Doodle - You thought the Veil’s laugh was perfect, but Lucius didn’t. It must have been like getting goosed!

Damiana – I wonder if Lucius’ extreme wealth gave him ingress to the Ministry in 1817 just like it would in his own time period. Time turner sand made from the Veil arch – you heard it here first, LOL! If Hermione had the secret code for getting into her old workplace, it shouldn’t have set off any alarms. Whew! I hope I addressed most of your speculations.

Lady Miya - The Veil is its own entity, that’s for sure. Your ideas about the Squibs must remain unanswered. Sorry!

Heidi191976 – I think I can guarantee Lucius and Hermione are now a solid couple.

T Stevenson - Thank YOU for reading and reviewing. I appreciate the compliments.

Angelprince – Too funny, AP. Me as the Master. Wait! Hmmm, maybe I passed up another good twist. Nah, that would make me a Mary Sue of sorts. Although the idea of that much technological power…sigh.

Muffy – I think Lucius and Hermione can now look into the Veil’s business. It has certainly been looking into theirs!

RhiannonoftheMoon – Yes, finally a meeting of the minds in that topsy-turvy marriage. First, antagonists, then lovers, now friends?

jw – I read your speculations with interest. And silence LOL. Hermione is definitely on the road to ‘ruin’ under Lucius’ erotic tutelage.

AlexMalfoy – I realize Lucius’ actions at the bordello don’t paint him in a rosy light. He’s quite a flawed character after all. He’ll never be able to sing in the angelic choir. He had tried several times to ask Hermione, through the more adventurous paintings, to enlarge her experience with sex. She turned him down each and every time. In his mind, she had closed the door to a part of him she didn’t want to see and which, after twelve years of prison, he desperately needed for himself. He quietly took care of the tamest of his unacceptable needs elsewhere while keeping her happy in bed at the pace she wanted to go: vanilla, missionary sex and oral gratification for her. He and she haven’t been married long - it’s true. Perhaps he should have tried harder to push her beyond her comfort zone. They are still strangers to each other in many ways and, because she refused all his attempts to add more variety into their new sex life together, for him then to reveal his kinky tastes to her also made him worry she would reject him completely, which above everything, he did not want. That theme has run through the entire story.

sheherazade – Ah, don’t get ahead of me, now. I do think Lucius is finished being on his knees – for apologizing anyway. No guarantees for any other reason. Spanking?? Who? Where? How? Nahhh, my witchcraft only consists of pre-writing.

Citten – I spent the Fourth of July on a trip to relatives, so I am just responding to everyone now. Enjoy!

Scary Bear Hair – Lucius is a pussycat? Maybe a big, tawny lion who likes p*ssy. I don’t think he views compassion as a good thing, the stiff necked egoist. I can hardly wait for Hermione to let Lucius pick another painting, too! The Veil is a major character as you can now see.

FlowersBecomeScreens – It was the Veil laughing. Lucius seems to do some good thinking while grabbing Hermione’s boobs. I’m a little surprised he was thinking at all, but I guess it was a belated reaction to their discussion. [grin] You have quite a few more chapters to untangle this tale, so no worries. Fascinating theories. No response. [laughing] Exhales – and I’m spent. [Stole that from Mike Myers…]


Now to see where our players are today...


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Chapter Twenty-Nine


Clues


Hermione had two ‘at-homes’ she was required to attend in order to keep to her new role as Mrs. Malfoy, being seen in the correct venues with the other wealthy wizards’ wives at their insipid, socially correct, afternoon gossip sessions. She and Lucius parted after they returned home for luncheon, Lucius promising that he was only stopping at the bordello to take deliverance of several cases of wine and champagne for his clientele, then he was continuing to plow through his various properties, inspecting them one by one and slowly making them unplottable, which took time and concentration. His lengthy parting kiss affirmed for Hermione the truth of his words and his interest in reevaluating those bedroom paintings that evening.

Two long and boring ‘at-homes’ in other upscale witches' drawing rooms and an ice at Fortescue’s later, Hermione was ready to scream. She had been forced to sit and chat about the most inconsequential, incredibly stupid trivia for four hours including - after the second ‘at home’ visit - an interminable outing to the Ices Parlor with three of the more social-climbing matrons to, as they put it, get to know dear Hermione better. The ‘at homes’ rigidly lasted only a maximum of thirty minutes as the rule and were bad enough, but Hermione figured she could get through those with a minimum of effort. Being basically shanghaied by three determined, socially prominent, inquisitive, brown-nosing women had Hermione crawling the walls. How on earth did Lucius put up with all this social shite?

“Mrs. Malfoy, you and your husband simply must come to my ball next week. Herbert and I want to welcome both of you to our community,” the overbearing Mrs. Spencer pronounced in her nasal voice.

Hermione immediately saw numerous pitfalls to attending a dance. She didn’t know the steps to the dances that would be second nature to anyone of the upper classes and she certainly didn’t want to spend an evening in the stifling, snobby atmosphere of these women where her ignorance of the social niceties would be more obvious. It was difficult enough getting through the thirty-minute interrogations she was enduring during the day at the teas and little visits she was forced into. Holding a teacup didn’t expose her nonexistent knowledge of social etiquette. The dinner or two were more taxing, but she watched the others at table and imitated them so no harm was done. Attending a ball would be a disaster.

The myriad etiquette rules for every little thing were impossible for someone not brought up to it. So far, she had pled ignorance of most of the local cultural niceties as being from so far away. In all cases, the person she was talking to named some foreign place as Hermione’s point of origin in the same way the chemist and dressmaker had. She had lost count of all the foreign countries she’d been from.

But even worse, these women didn’t do anything all day long but visit each other. Being the wealthy Mrs. Malfoy was beginning to feel like she had a whole platoon of snobby albatrosses around her neck – ones wearing too much perfume, ugly bonnets, insincere smiles and probably those disgusting knickers that came almost to one’s knees. Lucius had laughed when her clothing had arrived from the modiste’s and he had seen the bloomer-type underwear she was obliged to don. She now had much less sympathy for his tight pantaloons. Arsehole, she thought fondly.

“I’ll need to consult my husband, Mrs. Spencer. You understand, I’m sure,” Hermione replied. She had found that she could get out of many of the invitations by deferring to her husband in his absence and then having Lucius send their regrets. She was a little worried though, that Lucius might accept this invitation. All the others had been lesser entertainments and Lucius had often begged off, saying they were still adjusting to their new circumstances and he was busy taking up the reins of his inheritance.

Hermione was now happy to make use of Lucius’ innate ability to shed the invitations of the high society biddies while making them think he wished with all his heart he’d seen them first before he got married. Up until now it had been rather humiliating having those women look at her pityingly, but after their mutual meltdown in the Department of Mysteries’ Veil Chamber she was seeing the value of getting rid of the wealthy witches’ offers with the least amount of irritation to herself.

Now that she felt more secure in her husband’s affections, those harpies could keep their smug looks. She had the real thing at home. One of the younger witches had had the audacity to ask if Lucius was as good in bed as he looked. Hermione had blinked in astonishment and, not knowing what else to do, she had just slowly smiled and ignored the question although she was seething inside.

As a result of Hermione’s Mona Lisa smile, Lucius’ credit as a glamorous hunk had soared and he was at a loss to know why he was getting an increasing number of furtive sexual overtures from the younger society witches. He was used to propositions, but the sheer overload by the nubile crowd was strange. As neither Lucius nor Hermione was relating his/her individual experiences to the other, Lucius never found out why he got the occasional feminine flutter of eyelashes and discreet notes tucked in his pocket from women who were young enough to be his daughter – rather like Hermione.

Hermione was about ready to give up trying to fit into the milieu of the wizarding high society. The only reason she had attempted it was to discover any leads on her decimated future so she and Lucius could repair the events that had led to the horrific fate they had suffered. She was beginning to believe there was no information to be had among these elite, harebrained women when she tuned into the boring conversation the other women were having at the tiny table.

“My dear, she was gently but firmly turned down. Her father offered ten thousand pounds as a dowry, but the boy’s family wasn’t to be moved. And only because she’s a Squib. It’s such a shame because we all knew the young man wanted her. There are some who are starting to think Squibs bring bad genes.” The woman suddenly grew conscious of Hermione’s interest, “Oh, forgive me dear, I know your family has a certain tendency, shall we say, against Squibs. But it is distressing to have one’s relative denied merely because her magic abilities aren’t overtly viable. She would have had perfectly normal children with magical abilities and her suitor didn’t care that she was a Squib.”

“What do you mean my family has a tendency against Squibs? I haven’t heard that.” Hermione smiled as graciously as she could while trying to look clueless.

“Oh, well, perhaps your husband doesn’t have the same convictions that his uncle did, although we did hear....” Mrs. Spencer looked unconvinced. “That would make sense, I suppose, seeing as you two are from so far away. It was, um, the Canary Islands wasn’t it? Or perhaps your husband doesn’t keep you informed about important society concerns. It is more his business as one of the Pureblood leaders than yours, of course.”

Hermione let the sly dig go past as she analyzed the unsettling information that Lucius was somehow seen as involved with sidelining Squibs in the wizarding community. She wanted to get home and talk to her husband as soon as possible about this odd development that had him embroiled in the middle of it. Did he know what was being said? If he knew the vicious currents whipping about in the community, why had he not told her?

Hermione was able to break away from her acquaintances with spurious professions of amity and apparated home only to find her mate had not yet returned from his errands. She took the chance to return to Lucius’ study to examine the armoire’s contents again, but only found vague information in a few yellowing Daily Prophet articles at the back of the upright chest denoting the engagement and marriage of some young couple over thirty years ago. It wasn’t even anything to do with Lucius’ family - the names weren’t related to the Malfoys that she knew of, although she was no expert. A rapid search through the Genealogy books of that period turned up no connections to the Malfoys at all. She made a note to ask Lucius about their surnames, but otherwise was stumped.

She decided to sit down and examine more closely the thirty years of annuals for the “Wizards and Witches Genealogy” as long as she had time on her hands. Almost immediately hints of what they were looking for leaped out at her. Starting with the most recent annual and working backwards, many names were circled in red in the various wizarding families listed, most of them Pureblood but not all. Many different families had their scions’ names circled.

As she worked backwards through the years, fewer and fewer names were circled in red. She couldn’t find any patterns among the surnames. In the last and oldest annual of thirty years ago, only two names were circled and they matched the names of the young couple in the faded Daily Prophet article Hermione had found in the back of the armoire. Very curious. Lucius was definitely needed now to give her more background on the family lineages in the annuals.


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As Hermione was dressing for dinner she ruminated on what she had learned. There was some sort of pattern to her findings, but she didn’t have all the information needed to figure it out. She had just stepped into her modest black pumps when Lucius strolled into the bedroom. He smelled of his regular lime scent and a bit of pine and fresh air.

“I’ve managed to unplot several properties today,” he said proudly, kissing her in greeting. “I did a good day’s work if I do say so myself. The last one was tricky, being rather hilly with an assortment of pine trees, but it finally tucked into the charm.” He wandered toward the dressing room, talking as he began stripping off his jacket, “I like that little black lace dress on you, but I wish it weren’t floor length. These 1817 gown styles for women are very hard on leg men. Did you know the men of this era can rhapsodize for hours, having got a glimpse of a woman’s ankle? I definitely liked my era better for women’s clothing. Narcissa used to get this Muggle catalog from some place called Frederick’s of Hollywood -”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard of the place. Women’s skimpy lingerie and lots of pictures. Don’t remind me of what I can’t have, please. Did you know women wear those horrid corsets? I was considered a little fast because I refuse to put one on. I, um, mentioned that you dislike them and don’t want me to wear them. Really, the power of men in this time period is infuriating.” Hermione’s lips curled in contempt, “The women all backed off when I told them you had decreed that I wear no corsets and my bloomers must be in colors. You should have seen the jaws drop, mostly in envy, I’ll bet. I hate these frumpy bloomers, but I just can’t bring myself to wear nothing. The drafts are very distracting.”

Lucius acknowledged her plight with a snort of laughter, “Feel free to ascribe all sorts of outré behavior to your controlling husband, but don’t look for sympathy from me about those ugly pantalettes. You at least have the choice of hanging free as it were. I’m doomed to tight pantaloons and constant chafing, although it does have the happy effect of keeping the tool sharpened. Speaking of tools, I will need to select a painting after dinner.” A wicked smile lit Lucius’ face as he saw Hermione blush. But she didn’t back down from her offer at the Department of Mysteries.

“I do want to speak with you over dinner about some possible clues I’ve found,” Hermione finished running a narrow black riband through her hair to hold it back and followed Lucius into the dressing area to continue talking while he dressed. “Today, I looked through the thirty years of the Wizards and Witches Genealogy Annuals that were in the study armoire.”

Lucius looked at her in stupefaction, “Whatever for? That must be some of the driest reading material on the whole estate.” He peeled off his waistcoat and neckcloth, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed all of them on the dresser. “I never thought you would be interested in social connections, but if you want a rundown of pedigrees, I can tell you the main players much more quickly than those dusty old tomes. I got an earful from Gus.”

“Gus?”

“Our solicitor, Augustus Nesbitt. Gus. I’m sure you remember sleeping through my discussion with him? You fell asleep on the settee while Mr. Nesbitt and I were talking. He vetted me on Squibs and Muggleborns and more fool me, I gave him to understand they were inferior to Purebloods.” Hermione’s face fell into lines of disappointment and Lucius grimaced, “Well, I can’t erase a lifetime’s teachings of exclusiveness overnight.”

“Nor in twelve years either, it looks like. He must have been horrified to discover I was a Muggleborn.”

“I, uh, led him to believe you were a Pureblood.” Lucius winced at his wife’s screech. “Just relax for a minute before you try to emasculate me, please. Toward the end of my little talk with him, I began to worry for your safety. Gus knows a lot more than I do about the prevailing attitudes the Purebloods have about Halfbloods and Muggleborns. He asked more than once about your pedigree, dropping hints about the purity of the Malfoy line and the necessity for the wizarding world to protect its heritage.

“Apparently the Purebloods are just as rabid about their heritage in this time as they were in ours. Remember that was our first day in the wizarding world here. I didn’t yet know anything about the Pureblood dynamics of this time. And in the Malfoy dynasty we have always been Purebloods. So, to put it baldly, historically you must have been at least assumed to be a Pureblood. You know I would never do anything to put you in harm’s way. So I lied.”

“That lie can never be undone, Lucius. You can’t just say one day, ‘I was kidding – my wife is really a Muggleborn.’ My Gods, now I’m doomed to enact the part of Pureblood. I think you just couldn’t abide the idea that a Muggleborn would be recorded as having crept into your family tree.” Hermione crossed her arms and glared daggers at her irritating mate.

“I think the word ‘doomed’ is a little melodramatic, kitten. You are a pureblooded Muggleborn, aren’t you? If I truly cared about the Malfoy blood purity, I wouldn’t have married you. And there is no ‘just’ about it. It was necessity.”

“Thin, Lucius, really thin. You know I’m Muggleborn, but the historical records will see me as Pureblood. You don’t lose anything.”

“Hermione, think for a moment. Use that phenomenal brain of yours. As my wife, you are expected to socialize with my stratum. You’ve been doing it, so you must see the necessity for maintaining our place in society. Consider for a moment if you were announced as Muggleborn. What sort of reception could you expect at those teas and afternoon soirees and other events you - and we - have to attend? Some of the Malfoy wealth does derive from my contacts among the other wealthy wizarding families, nearly all of whom in this time period are Purebloods. Not fair, I know, but an inescapable fact. But my main concern was your safety and comfort in our community here - first, last and always.”

“So having a Muggleborn wife would blight your society standing and cripple your wealth. That makes me feel like a fraud, and a rather dirty one at that.”

“Hermione, what would you do if I had to go live with you among the Muggles? Would you announce to everyone that I was a wizard or would you let everyone assume I was a Muggle like they are?” Lucius pressed his point, “What would you do, knowing that if you told the truth about me, I might be in danger or at the very least be shunned as weird or crazy?”

“That’s not fair. It is totally different.”

“Hermione, you know it is exactly the same. You would protect me as I protected you.” He gazed earnestly at his little witch, “If you want me to introduce you as a Muggleborn I shall. Tell me what to do.”

Hermione bit her lip. Lucius’ Muggle scenario was just the same. She would have protected him by putting forward the fiction he was a Muggle. She wouldn’t have exposed him to the ridicule or very real danger of being a wizard in her world. He was trying to do the same for her.

“You’re right. I hate that I’m an ersatz Pureblood, but you’re right. I could probably have lived with the taint of being a Muggleborn in a Pureblood society, but it would put a terrific strain on both of us and could possibly be dangerous, seeing as how the Squibs are already being ostracized and they are real Purebloods in many cases.” Hermione sighed, “We’ll live with my change of breeding.”

“I meant what I said. I’ll introduce you as Muggleborn if you wish. I just don’t want you hurt either physically or emotionally. But you’ve met my crowd – I do think this way is best.” Lucius poured some water from the pitcher into a basin and began washing his torso, relieved to have his lie revealed and the potential rift between them resolved. He had dreaded the moment Hermione would realize he had labeled her a Pureblood. “I’ll have to wash quickly for dinner. After dinner I’ll call for a hot bath. I feel like I’m all over pine resin.”

The little witch returned to their original conversation and her research, “I hope you will be able to elucidate some of the names I’ve written down for you to look at. We can discuss them at the table.” Hermione backed out of the dressing room to give Lucius a modicum of privacy for his ablutions and sat down in a small slipper chair in the bedroom to wait. They liked to walk to the dining room together.


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“So, where is this list?” Lucius finished the last of his dinner and sipped at his white wine, sitting back in his chair relaxed, with the worst of the pine resin out of his hair. He had spent a profitable day all around, from clearing the air with his wife at the Veil, to getting a great deal on some fine wine and champagne for his bordello, and finally making several of his numerous pieces of Malfoy land unplottable without raising the curiosity of his fellow wizards too much. Best of all, Hermione had intimated that tonight he could expect a bit more than vanilla sex.

“Here,” she handed the list to the blond wizard, pulling it from a slit pocket in her dress and unshrinking it with her wand. “Do you recognize any of the names?”

Lucius perused the list while he sipped his wine. Slowly, as he read, his wine glass lowered to the tablecloth and rested there unnoticed. “This is odd. Each of the names that I recognize, and I only know about a quarter of them, are Squibs. Just how did you make up this list?”

“Those names are all circled in red in the annuals. The books go back thirty years in your uncle’s study, all the older ones past thirty years are in the Malfoy library. I saw them the first night we came here. I looked through the ones in the armoire because it seemed odd to have that many in the study. If some were also stored in the library, why have more than the latest one or two in the study? Thirty years of them displaced was weird. Also, I’ve been going through the estate accounts. I started adding the receipts you gave me, then tried to do the running totals which hadn’t been done for almost a year. I guess your uncle wasn’t up to it at the end.

“I saw several receipts for a strange entry designated LOAN,” she explained. “He was loaning large sums of money out with no notation. The amounts occurred at irregular times going back thirty years also. So I matched the number of entries marked LOAN to the number of circled names each year and the numbers match. I can’t make any better connection than that, but I think the two are connected somehow. Now you say that many of those names are Squibs.”

“I said I recognize a quarter of them as Squibs. Purebloods kept track of their Squibs, recording how many and which families they were in. Inherited attributes of any kind were ruthlessly vetted in our circles, still are. And as vague as my Pureblood history is, I do remember that in older times, Pureblood Squibs weren’t the pariahs they are in our time.

I’ll check, but if they are all Squibs, I would find that fascinating in light of the Veil’s reaction to us mentioning Squibs as the ones we are supposed to embrace according to the prophecy. Maybe we should try to locate a true Diviner and see if the Veil can speak to us through them. But I suppose if we did we would only get more aggravatingly obscure hints that wouldn’t necessarily help. Diviners as a group mostly irritate me.”

“I must agree with you there,” Hermione motioned for the elves to remove their dinner plates and the finished meal disappeared from the table, leaving the wine.

“Today’s visit with an inanimate piece of rock was more illuminating than a reading by any Diviner. If I thought I would get the same emotional sensation, I’d go back and say ‘Squibs’ to the arch again, just for the high. However, I have something else to look forward to this evening.” He smiled expectantly at his little witch, his pale eyes twinkling as he saw a blush steal over her face.

Hermione didn’t know what she was inviting onto herself, but her delicate shoulders went back and she sat up straight, “Shall we?” She waved her hand toward the dining room doors.

Lucius stood up and walked around the table to pull out Hermione’s chair, assisting her to rise. He folded her hand over his arm and led her back to their bedroom. They didn’t say anything, each occupied with similar thoughts creating the same and wildly different reactions, Lucius excited and aroused, Hermione excited and scared. Lucius could feel the tension in his wife’s grip and felt compelled to offer, “Hermione, if you’ve changed your mind, let me know now. I’ll accept your decision.”

He stopped them in the hall. “However, if we progress beyond what we’ve been doing in our bedroom, there is no going back. I want that understood before we continue.” Lucius gently ran his hand down over her wayward curls and lifted her chin with his fingers. “I want a happy marriage for us both. No coercion into behavior that you will be miserable with.”

Hermione reached up and put her hands on Lucius’ shoulders, “I’m ready, Lucius. I understand what you are saying and I’m sorry I’ve been dragging my feet in the bedroom. I’m pretty sure missionary position with a side of oral sex for me isn’t all you’ve been hoping for.” She petted his cheek, “Let’s go pick a painting.”

tbc...

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More grist for your theories. I know you all want to get on with the mystery, but I will have to put my foot down and spend the next chapter inserting a lemon. For all those who only like missionary sex, you can read the first bit of the next chapter and skip the middle, jumping to the last part.

As per usual, reviews will be greatly appreciated and responded to at the beginning of the next installment.


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