The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

_________________________________________________________


12-26-09 Sat


I spent a lovely Christmas with my family, but it put me back one day for my next chapter. I appreciate all the lovely reviews you sent in for the last chapter and my responses are waiting for you on my LiveJournal account at:


http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/58378.html


_________________________________________________________



Chapter Twenty-Nine


Friendship




Lucius looked at his longtime friend blankly. “Did I?” He had almost asked ‘what feelings’ as a joke, but saw that the question somehow had become important to the other man.

Severus merely sat with crossed arms, waiting.

Lucius thought over what he had said, “I didn’t mean to imply you had any trouble in the bedroom. Did you think I was implying you needed two dicks to satisfy your wife? Narcissa loves you.”

“No, Lucius. Not that. You said you couldn’t stand to be poor like I was - as if it were a loathsome disease to be avoided at all costs.”

Lucius sat in dawning understanding, his face a stricken mask. “Severus. My deepest apologies. I do that quite a lot, it appears. How have you managed to bother with me all these years?”

Snape snorted, “You of all people should know I don’t bother with anyone I don’t think worth it. He leaned forward toward his Pureblood friend, “Hermione is teaching you how to treat her in your relationship. She has somehow inculcated in you a desire to learn how to form intimate ties. Narcissa has done the same for me. I certainly cannot throw any stones at others for being detached from intimacy.”

“Then I don’t understand,” said Lucius, plaintively.

“I know money is a strong influence in your life,” the former Potions Master said. “It never has been in mine. We’re different that way. But not unequal.” Severus raised a quizzical eyebrow at the blond sitting opposite him.

“You think I’ve viewed you as a lesser man - because of money,” Lucius said flatly and shook his head. “Not so. If anything I’ve considered myself the lesser man. I didn’t have the strength to fight Voldemort when I could see his way was leading us all to disaster. You did. I suppose if anything, I’ve been envious of your strength of character. Narcissa traded up.” Lucius slumped, looking crestfallen at the conversational turn. Quiet drifted down onto the room as Lucius mentally lapsed into some painful reminiscences, brought on by Snape’s outburst.

Lucius had been promised in marriage when he was only a year old by his father to the Pureblood Black clan the moment Narcissa was born. His marriage was pure Slytherin cunning to tie the Malfoys to the rabid, Voldemort-supporting Blacks. Lucius was to be a guarantor of an alliance with the Dark Lord if it was needed.

The Malfoy assets would be safe in case Riddle came to power and indeed his father’s canny idea paid dividends in allying Malfoys with the younger sister of the crazy Bellatrix who later formed an unsavory personal connection to Riddle. It hadn’t made Lucius feel romantically inclined toward Narcissa, but he’d soon come to realize she was merely a pawn like he was.

His life course was set while he was still in nappies and he had been brought up in the revered Pureblood ideals, never knowing anything different. It had taken him many years to overcome his early teachings and he still had vestiges of his cultural bias that peeped out when he wasn’t thinking. The only true friend he’d ever had was an impecunious Halfblood and if that wasn’t the irony of the century he didn’t know what was.

He knew he’d been blessed with brains, but he’d been so steeped in his circle’s posh ideas that at first he’d looked down his nose at Snape with his lack of money and his outdated, threadbare clothes. It had only slowly dawned on the young, rich, blond Pureblood that little Snape didn’t give a frog-flavored fuck if Prefect Lucius liked him or not. That had been the first break in his contented world.

At the beginning of their year together, Lucius was angry with the eleven-year-old for not showing him the deference he rated. A few drubbings hadn’t changed the child’s behavior one iota and Lucius became unwillingly both admiring and jealous of the independent boy. He’d finally let the reclusive child alone and got no thanks for that, either. Lucius had been angry about that, but had slowly begun comparing his own behavior and life against the uncaring Snape’s and been dismayed. Lucius was shackled as surely as if he’d worn irons. Compared to him, Snape was free.

Lucius studied the phenomenon that was Severus Snape, watching the first year youngster go about his business; he’d discovered that the child was ferociously intelligent for a Halfblood, but uncaring for anyone’s opinion. It was just the opposite for Lucius. He demanded everyone’s good opinion. He was older and had graduated after only a year in the same dungeon House as Snape, but the dark-haired boy’s indifferent influence had insidiously cracked Lucius’ highborn view of the world.

In retaliation for his imagined slights, Lucius made plans to shackle Severus to the same impossible future he had by drawing Voldemort’s attention to the Halfblood. It was the worst thing he’d ever done to another human being and over the years as he saw his handiwork succeed, his latent conscience arose and nearly crippled him. His envy had cost a free, strong-willed, young man his future. Even though it had turned out Snape had secretly become a double agent for reasons Lucius knew nothing about, it didn’t excuse Lucius’ mean plans for the Halfblood.

In a vague, half-acknowledged remorse, Lucius began to shield Snape when he could as long as it didn’t hurt his own family. Narcissa had taken up his cues and helped. Snape, once within the circle of Death Eaters, had stoically done the Dark Lord’s bidding, never overtly recognizing any of Lucius’ help. Unfortunately, with his change of heart and his conscience troubling him, Lucius slowly began to weaken and the Dark Lord had sensed it. That was the beginning of the end of his influence and the end of safety for his family.

Lucius didn’t know until later that Snape had seen his efforts and had tried to shield him in return. Lucius had by luck discovered Snape dying from Nagini’s wound and helped him. Both understood that their friendship had strangely begun at Hogwarts, taking a circuitous route to the present, but both were now staunch allies and the best of steadfast friends and had been for years.

“Oh, bollocks,” Snape startled the blond out of his uncomfortable reverie as he pushed up out of his chair and paced over to one of the windows, then turned to face the sad man whose personal scabs he had unintentionally just ripped off. His experiment in trying to fix something that hadn’t been broken in more years than he needed to count was not working at all.

“This baring of souls is hideously uncomfortable,” Snape growled. “It must work better if you’re a female. I propose we pretend we’ve been Obliviated and never discuss this again,” said Snape. “It’s painfully apparent that Hermione’s direct approach is only good for male-female relationships.” He strode back to his seat and relaxed back in his chair, pouring himself another much-needed draught of liquor.

Lucius cocked his head at the dark-haired man, gave him a gentle, wistful smile, then abruptly said, “To friends,” and held up his glass.

“To friends,” echoed Snape and a companionable silence descended in the study.

“Do you want to play three-dimensional chess?” asked Lucius after a few minutes.

“Only if you promise not to cheat,” said Snape with a supercilious sniff.

Lucius grinned. Snape cheated worse than he did.

~~~~

“Have you any idea what accommodations we’ll have at Hogwarts?” Hermione asked diffidently the next day. Lucius had returned from his two-week hiatus with a bang, several in fact. She was pleasantly sore from those several generous attentions and was in turn attempting to be more considerate around him and his uneven temper where she never had bothered before, trying to make their new arrangement work. “Now that you’ve added to my wardrobe, I’ll need more closet space than I had planned. And I can’t imagine you would be able to make do with one lonely bureau.” It was Hermione’s quiet acknowledgement that she liked her new wardrobe and Lucius nodded slightly.

Lucius was feeling vastly more relaxed after the vigorous session on his sofa. He had eagerly followed his wife back to her bedroom after dinner and their discussion that first night and had resumed his routine of sex and sleeping in her bed. The maudlin setback with Severus had been successfully ignored by both men in a rousing, Slytherin, back-stabbing game of chess that both had enjoyed enormously.

As agreed, no recriminating words had been spoken between the lovers as they reconnected and both were tacitly working not to bring up the recent, now gratefully past, contretemps and his two-week disappearance. They had agreed to talk pleasantly of anything new their mate did that bothered them, but otherwise the incident was closed.

Hermione had shyly offered to help Lucius organize and deal with the crushing amounts of correspondence and investment details that had clogged his desk while he was on his hiatus and he had astonishingly taken her up on it. When they had awakened from their carnal reunion on his sofa, his somber eyeing of his desk and credenza filled with paperwork, had given Hermione the opportunity to subtly make amends for all her vicious words while simultaneously letting him accept her help as his part in a gesture of peace between them.

They were in his study again, further diminishing the piles of correspondence. Hermione was seated at his desk separating the mail and other items into urgent, not so urgent, circulars and other adverts, and personal correspondence.

“We will be in the oldest section of the castle,” Lucius said. “Pass me that envelope with the red wax seal, please.” When the envelope had been sent across the room to Lucius who was filing items into his cubbyholes and weeding others, he continued, “I visited there to see what arrangements could be made. Because of the tight, complex exterior wards on the castle walls, there cannot be any rooms added on to the Headmaster’s quarters, which in any case are in a turret. It would mean punching out the exterior wall of the turret due to the position of the apartments. Instead, I created more interior space in the rooms we have, rather like those quaint tents the common folk have, that look small from the outside, but are roomier inside.”

His back was turned to his wife, so he didn’t see the quick frown at his careless description, ‘common folk’. Then she shrugged. Hogwarts wasn’t built in a day. She needed to pick her battles more carefully with a wizard whose temper blew as often as the wind did.

She hadn’t asked where Lucius had been those two weeks, but her curiosity was high. It was her desperate hope that he truly hadn’t spent his time with other women, especially Narcissa. He’d said there had been no one else and she wanted to believe him. Hermione’s only other optimism came from her belief that Snape would never have allowed any untoward fraternization there.

“The closet space is now adequate,” Lucius went on, oblivious to his wife’s disquieting thoughts. “It was initially small due to the antiquity of the building. It looks as though the first attempt at a closet was a few pegs on the wall by the front door, which are still there,” Lucius said, amused. “However, that would be entirely unacceptable for either of us. It may have served Dumbledore, but we need more. Minerva always had her own rooms. She never used the Headmaster’s private quarters so I had to send in the elves for a thorough scrubbing. It was rather dusty.

“We will have to share a bathroom, however. I hope that doesn’t discompose you unduly. I don’t use any of that Eastern Spice scent in my ablutions or my cologne any more and you seem to have no objection to the pine-scented cologne and soap I now use, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” He turned from his cubbyholes to observe Hermione’s reaction to the one bathroom idea. “Your light herbal scent is acceptable to me.”

“Judging from the massive amount of my bath crystals you poured into the tub the night I gave you your sausage massage, I had already gathered that my favored scent didn’t offend you,” Hermione said sardonically.

Lucius half turned to the petite witch sitting at his desk, looking like a child playing office. His argent eyes studied her a moment or two, but her words didn’t appear to have been accusatory and she had gone back to sorting his correspondence, so he returned to his cubbyholes. Turned away from her, he allowed himself a small chuckle. Sausage massage, indeed.

Hermione sat absorbing the new idea of sharing a bathroom with some trepidation. Would they still be able to close the door for their intimate needs? She’d shared facilities with other witches before, but never a man. Her face scrunched up as she contemplated the concept.

“If you don’t like the idea,” Lucius baited facetiously, “I don’t know what I can do about it, except provide a bucket for you in the closet.” He peeked at his wife, then turned away again before she could see the grin he couldn’t control. He waited for the explosion he was sure to suffer. Sometimes he knew he provoked the little witch in retaliation for her earlier nasty tongue. This time felt more comfortable, however. He was actually teasing her and he quite liked it.

Hermione had the feeling she was being purposefully poked, but she hoped that he was joking. Her eyes smiled, but she answered quite calmly, “I understand, Lucius. A bucket won’t be necessary. Oh! Unless you want one for yourself?” She added, “I suppose it would be simpler for you to use one if you prefer.”

Lucius turned around again to observe the sincerity of his wife’s retaliatory offer. When her pursed mouth and twinkling eyes gave her away, the sudden tense set of his shoulders sagged in relief. She was teasing him back. “No, my dear, I’m perfectly happy to share. It’s not as though you haven’t seen and touched nearly every square millimetre of me, anyway. Next we’re going to work on taste.” When a blush rose on his wife’s cheeks, Lucius returned to his cubbyholes well pleased at the light atmosphere in the study.

Hermione sighed dramatically, “I will miss my Mini-Cooper. Driving around the countryside is very relaxing after spending hours on my research and reports.” The little witch threw out the inflaming comment to jostle her husband a little and got the expected result. Their unusual camaraderie was a little unsettling; she was squirming at this new era of careful pleasantries. Sometimes she almost preferred their previous sparring, feeling more at home with their long-standing animosity.

Lucius dropped his arms at his sides and pivoted to face his wife, his irritation apparent from his pursed lips and slitted eyes, his grievance replacing his wary serenity immediately. “My stablemaster, Barnabas, told me about your new ‘garage’, that monstrosity you had built next to the kitchen herb garden. All the smelly smoke belching from your machine will surely kill the herbs or at least stunt them. If you had to have the thing built, why didn’t you put it well down one of the horse trails away from the house?”

Hermione smiled genially, well pleased with her latest foray into stirring her husband’s ire. This felt more comfortable; now she knew where she was with him. “I had the design blend in with the décor of the rest of your architecture, not that the pretentious Greek revival, mixed with Italian Renaissance, covered over by Baronial hall can quite be called a style.”

“Shall we not get into comparisons of mansions with the Muggle choice of domicile, which I’m sure you’re more used to?” Lucius’ chin went up, but he shot back more playfully than she expected, “Weighing a centuries-old palatial estate against a ‘sink estate’ is so unfair to you.” Lucius’ eyes lit up at the frown that instantly replaced Hermione’s fake smile.

She glared at the man for a moment before understanding he had turned her newest attempt at stirring the pot into an exaggerated piece of nonsense.

“Next I suppose you’ll be building a miniature mansion for your orange-furred vermin?” Lucius lifted his eyebrows in innocent inquiry.

“Hah! You’d like that, wouldn’t you! Crookshanks stays with me. No separate accommodations.” Hermione tossed her curls in a parody of triumph.

“Ah well,” the blond sighed, “It’s a disappointment, but I’ll struggle to survive it. Send over that scrolled parchment with the blue ribbon, please.” He caught the item and deftly stored it in a capacious cubbyhole with other blue-ribboned documents.

“What are all those blue ribbon parchments?” Hermione asked, a tiny smile lifting her lips.

“Deeds to properties we own here in England. These down here,” he pointed to a large cubbyhole filled with parchments tied with a selection of other ribbons, “are deeds to properties in various European countries.” He cocked his head in an attitude of thought, “Perhaps I should teach you my filing system; you should know about the investments and real properties we have in more detail. If anything happened to me, you wouldn’t know about our finances.”

Hermione’s skin went to goose bumps as it was brought home to her that she knew nothing about her new world, but more importantly, she didn’t want Lucius to die.

~~~~

Hermione returned to her own research after Lucius told her he was caught up enough to deal with his own paperwork. Routine was re-established and each half of the couple accomplished a great deal in their own responsibilities due to the slightly better relations between them. Hermione still wondered where Lucius had been for two weeks, but she didn’t dare ask.

The only real problem looming for her, and to a lesser extent for Lucius, was their resistance to returning to the scene of the horrible battle on the grounds of Hogwarts. Lucius knew Hermione was fretting, but didn’t know what to do about it.

It occurred to him that Snape, who had more reason to hate the place, had been traveling there frequently for years. He decided to ask how Snape had got past his memories. Unfortunately, Lucius ran into a brick wall when he tried to pursue his plan. Severus refused to let him visit the Snape home for several days and wouldn’t come to the Malfoy home, having had his fill of his lugubrious friend underfoot for two annoying weeks of interrupted sexual freedoms.

Snape was also unwilling for the blond troublemaker to know that he, Snape, had been banished to Lucius’ old bedroom for those days by his wife for his skullduggery. It had been a shock to have Narcissa discover his little scheme of the switched bedrooms and confront him when he returned home from playing chess with Lucius. Finally, when the dark-haired wizard’s own life was back to normal, he gave Lucius leave to visit.

tbc...


_________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________


I give kudos to my regular reviewers. Thank you!! Are there any lurkers who would like to toss out a comment on the story?? I'd like to hear from you!

Pics here:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/58378.html

.
.

.
.