The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

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6-26-09 F

Thank you, thank you, for all the wonderful, clever reviews. They mean a lot to me.
Remember, for each chapter, I put up a picture or drawing to add to the fun. I hope you like them! For this chapter, check out:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/43676.html

Hmmm, Snape…where do I start? He’ll make a very short appearance at the brief wedding ceremony, but Lucius was very clear that he wanted more of his new marital relationship with Hermione told before we are introduced to his longtime friend. He really is a bit jealous of Snape and worries that his readers will be distracted by the dark-haired one. Pshaw, I said. Never happen *cough*.


On to answering your comments:


Jesse – I’m relieved you tried chapter two before giving up. Maybe all the spark accidentally shifted into the second chapter when I lifted my computer. Dunno, but at least it’s sparking now for you. Yay!

Rainie rainbugx7@aol.com - I’m happy you’re enjoying their verbal slugfest. More this chapter. They’re a longwinded pair.

Ravenna – I think I can promise a fairly extensive tour of the contents of Lucius’ robes by the end of this story, heh, heh. I have my fingers crossed that the plan Lucius and Snape have designed comes clear to the readers, but it will emerge slowly, tangled with Lucius’ early marital woes. Snape also emerges more and more as the chapters pass.

Daughter of a serpent – Of the two I can see Lucius having more insecurities than Snape, who was so busy being a spy that he didn’t have time to dwell on minor ego issues. Snape’s role is intertwined throughout the story, but not for a few chapters yet.

Aleysiasnape – Lucius’ and Snape’s longtime friendship in this story isn’t without a bit of rivalry. Hermione needs to tread carefully.

Diamond-Helen – The story starts with a few confusing details, but I hope as the chapters are posted, more is clear to everyone. I need the time to explain what is a rather convoluted plot. Please bear with me. At least for now you can enjoy Lucius and Hermione annihilating each other with words.

Lilashannah – Ah, Snape. His…erm… relationship will come out in a few chapters. Staying mum for now. Draco is in the story, but mostly much farther on. Then you hear his views.

Magalena – OMG, I’ve a tried-and-true, fave story? (quiet squee emitted) I do love to write the dialogue between Lucius and Hermione. They’re so evenly matched for wits. Yes, Hermione’s failure to cancel the old marriage contract has come back to…well, I imagine it will be Lucius biting her in the butt.

Pittwitch – I think Lucius’ temper will be short on Hermione finding anyone else attractive. I can’t decide between Lucius in faded jeans or Lucius without faded jeans……hmmm, okay, I’ve decided (I’ll use his jeans for my drool rag).

jw - I’m reserving info on Snape’s relationship for a few more chapters. I think Hermione has let some of her friendships lapse in her intent focus on her research business, so her connections in the Ministry might not be as strong as before. It is six years later. Registry office wedding, so not much in the way of guests.

Margaritama – Have I mentioned that I love the Lucius character? You said he was, “naughty, sexy, bad, nasty, sharp witted, sarcastic and, no doubt, a slightly heavy-handed, loves to spank Dom.” Exactly!! I guess you can get one of him in this story, because he’s living up to your words here. I never find him all bad, and to my everlasting delight he’s never all good either. He’s a complex personality and he fits in perfectly with both Hermione and Snape. He has to find his level with her while he and Snape are dealing with their plan. The sparking of Lucius’ attraction to Hermione is all part of the emerging plot, but for now he’s merely taking what he and Snape need for their plan. What belongs to Lucius belongs only to Lucius.

Terpsichore – Hmm, maybe that’s why I love “Shrew”. Petruchio doesn’t take Kate’s vituperation – he spanks her. I must admit I do love to write Lucius' and Hermione's dialogue. When those two start sniping at each other, they won’t shut up! Snape’s involvement in the story increases as we go along, but he’s not featured for a few more chapters. He is a secondary character, although I had to convince him of that when he almost ran away with some chapters. Um, yeah, I won’t be mentioning Snape’s significant other for a bit. Have some firewhiskey. It deadens curiosity, Really.

meankitty69 – Oooh, poor you, meankitty! Pneumonia is awful stuff. Make sure you are extremely careful and don’t overtax. Sending hugs and good wishes. I’m thrilled I’m helping keep you occupied as you rest.

Angeles – Yes, “their fights are like pure fire” and Hermione’s already thrown pure fire at him. Poor man, going to his wedding in charred robes. Heh.

VoraciousReader zeets20@hotmail.com - Lucius and Snape know each other very well. Lucius worries that Snape might have an ulterior motive only because it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility for Lucius to do the same to Snape in other circumstances. I think in this case Lucius is just having a bit of last minute waffling. The problem in the wizarding world will be presented in time.

Tambrathegreat – Shrewish Lucius…yes, they’re both rather caustic to each other. Maybe it’s a little early to label their behavior as Unrelieved Sexual Tension, hunh? Give me a few more chapters (grin).

Coopershawk – You are quite welcome. Thank you for the lovely compliment. Anytime a reader RE-reads a story, that’s a gift to the author.

Mariteri – Lucius and Severus as a dynamic fascinates me. They’re great foils for each other. So far these chapters are just the tip of the iceberg.

dark_samira – I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story so far. I do have sex scenes in the offing. And as to why I don’t post the whole story in a short time, a) it took me nearly a year to write, b) I take time to write answers to all my readers, and c) readers often give me ideas for adding material to the story. In the past I’ve added whole chapters from interesting comments. I’d love the chocolate cookies, but I’m trying to lose weight. I appreciate the bribe, though. (Looks at carrot sticks and sighs…)

Coipje – Thank you! I’m happy you like the story!

Rini – Oh, snicker – Lucius with a sagging belly. I got a kick out of that one myself. Yes, Snape’s taken. And how lovely that you re-read a story of mine. I’m honored… “The Wedding”, hunh? I always think of the train compartment scene.

BeaBibliophile – Truly, you should have no fears about Hermione turning into a doormat. Won’t happen here. Snape is very distracting, isn’t he. When those two bicker, their dialogue flows and they just won’t Shut Up. That’s why I have to make them have sex all the time (chortle). I think I couldn’t write a heartless Lucius if I got him for a Christmas present. The humor creeps in no matter what I type.

blue artemis blueartemis07@gmail.com - Yes, Severus is taken. The mystery of who remains for now. You know, I think you’re right. Lucius and Hermione ARE getting off on their verbal sparring. Well said.

T Stevenson – Yup, no verbal punches pulled in that chapter. Right now Hermione brings out Lucius’ mean side a little, but also his caveman tendencies. No wonder Ron and Hermione weren’t a good match. Next to her intelligence he’s a troglodyte. (Sorry, Ron fans, ignore that sentence). 8-) It’s probably obvious I find Lucius mesmerizing, not only in looks but in his mental acuity. And he’s discovering that her mental acuity is having an unusual effect on him…

Scary Bear Hair – My interpretation of these two versus the Shakespeare play is rather loose. Petruchio was nastier than Lucius, but it was another century with different customs and culture. The current mutual tongue-lashing is pretty evenly divided with both sides landing blows. You DO know I always write happy endings, Scary, so don’t worry too much about their feelings. It’s just like you, though, to be tenderhearted. Hugs.

Angel Prince trent_k9@hotmail.com - I’m not sure those jade columns from “Beyond the Veil” can be topped (is that a pun?). If Lucius sports those faded jeans, will that be enough to distract you? I’ll send him over for the night, if so. You know, each time I gave space to another couple’s graphic sex in one of my Lumione stories, I got very mixed reviews of those chapters. Quite a few readers were not happy to read of sex between other than the primary hero and heroine. I probably won’t do that again unless there is an upswelling of demand. Kinky sex toys? What are those?

Damiana – Lucius guards his own even if he hasn’t developed intense feelings for Hermione yet. In his world she will belong to him. Poor deluded fool. It does look like they’re both ripe for some sort of interaction. Lucius would be very sensitive about his wife even looking at another man, especially with their age difference. Her looking at Snape, another older man, would be salt in the wound.

Pensieve Plotter – Ah, yes, I absolutely love words. I have crossword puzzles littered all over the house for the odd free moment. When I began my writing I promised myself I would use whatever words fit the sentence without limiting myself. Thank you for the lovely compliment! You are right that Hermione won’t be interested in Lucius’ money. It’s not her weakness. Now if he waved a magnificent library in front of her face, would she let him command her? Hmmm, nah, she’d just go back to the Ministry library. What does he have that she would want? (Okay, we’re back to those sex scenes, aren’t we.)

Lilbitbord – Hermione and Ron were very young, took out the marriage contract together, then decided not to get married. Both being young and naïve, they didn’t think to cancel the marriage contract and it was left open for anyone to come along and sign up for. Ron got married so he’s pretty safe. Unfortunately, Hermione is still single and at risk for a new marriage partner to sign with her.


On with the story...

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Chapter Three


Lucius’ View of Slytherins and Purebloods

Hermione tried to find a more comfortable position on the floor as she went back to glaring at the blond sorcerer. She had scant patience for Lucius’ political and financial problems and made no secret of her antipathy. “You happily stood by and watched me being crispy fried by that lunatic Bellatrix and did nothing,” she pointed out, her courage waning again with those haunting thoughts.



“Do please acquit me of blissfully standing by while Bella tortured you,” the blond wizard absolved himself. “Had I stepped forward and oh-so-nobly defended you, I would have taken your place and maybe Narcissa and Draco also. My importance to the Dark Lord by then was extremely shaky. He had already taken my wand. I had no power whatsoever.”

Hermione grimaced, “So now I’m supposed to marry you and be thankful for your waning power and obscene wealth, while bestowing my reputation as part of the Golden Trio onto the Slytherins?”



Lucius stared, amazed anew at the naïveté of the small Gryffindor, “I haven’t the slightest interest in promulgating the interests of all Slytherins. Where in Hades did you get that idea? Have you learned nothing of the wizarding world? Slytherins don’t run in packs or have maudlin ten-year reunions to talk over old times. A ‘group of Slytherins’ is an oxymoron. Slytherins don’t form groups. Each Slytherin is in it purely for him or herself.

“We all understand our code. It’s bred into us from birth. The Hogwarts House names are just labels for overarching personality types. If our children are born with Slytherin personalities, nothing you can do will change their natures.” The blond wizard let his words sink in for a moment, “Your value will be to me alone, for me alone, and for our family only. Do you understand?”

“That’s not entirely true,” she parried, caught up in the argument. “You Slytherins always stuck together against the other houses at school. Perhaps what you say is true when you become adults, but at Hogwarts the Slytherins did form groups.”

“Because having a house composed only of Purebloods was disallowed – so it was not really the Slytherins who formed groups, but the wealthy Purebloods, most of whom sorted into Slytherin. But brandishing the badge of Pureblood ancestry today is considered very bad form, punishable by ostracism in the higher government circles. It’s ironic that being a mongrel today is the ideal of good nous in the wizarding world – so modern and republican - but as a true Slytherin,” Lucius bowed gracefully, “I will always try to make the most of circumstances to get ahead, such as marrying you.” He smiled to see the appalled expression that bloomed on Hermione’s face.

Hermione recovered swiftly from the verbal slap of being called a mongrel and scoffed, “I hope you’ve thought this through. You can’t automatically assume that any progeny,” the little witch shivered at that thought, “will sort into Slytherin. It could boomerang on you, you know. Any child of ours could go to Gryffindor.”

Hermione controlled an urge to shield her eyes with her hand and busied herself rearranging her skirt instead. Looking too long at his handsome, haughty face was beginning to bring back more of her bad memories, even as his looks caught at her baser senses. She concentrated on clearing her mind of her horrible experience under Bellatrix’s wand, seeing him at the edge of his drawing room so long ago, that same face wooden in its disinterest. An evil angel.



Hermione sullenly looked away from her repellent destiny, completely exasperated at the unpleasant if undeniable hypothesis of such a sterile, insular family life. Slytherins usually married Slytherins though, because most of them were Purebloods, so perhaps crossing one with another House would soften that bleak outlook of calculated self-interest governing her future married life.

“You only produced one child in twenty some-odd years,” she jabbed defensively, “so you’re a poor bet if you are hoping for a fertile marriage.” Hermione looked up through her eyelashes at her tormentor to see if her words had stung. Baiting the disgusting man was better than letting her fears plague her. She had worked hard and had finally vanquished her fears of that night and she didn’t want her nightmares back ever again, but being around him was making her wobble.

That peculiar reaction to his standing so close to her must be her fear of him and their history leaking through in addition to his aura of dark magic zinging her. How bizarre that someone so steeped in evil should be so handsome. Hermione figured it was how evil sometimes insinuated itself, luring victims with looks.

Lucius, wearily aware of Hermione’s picture of him as the Devil’s disciple, gritted his teeth and held his temper by main force, “Narcissa had trouble carrying Draco. That’s not your business.” He drove home his twisted logic, “If you aren’t infertile, there should be no problem begetting children, as long as you have all the basic feminine equipment, unattractive as it is.”

Having delivered that insulting zinger Lucius asked in boredom, “Shall we move on? The Ministry Official expects us in the registry office in a few minutes to solemnize our marriage.”

He stood over her ominously, “Then I’ll take you home, give you a room somewhere and if, in the course of our marriage, I decide to get you pregnant maybe you can do some research on how to bring up a child since you think I have no talent for it,” Lucius jeered. He felt a build-up of sputtering magic quivering in his defective wand and he shook it sharply above Hermione’s head to dissipate the energy again. “There,” he muttered, “that’s sorted for now.”

“I suppose you won’t bother yourself being much of a father to any new children either,” Hermione said scornfully as she hunched away from the blond’s wand emanations, which rippled in a heady rush through her body. Thank Merlin they were agreed that any pregnancy would happen later. He’d taken care of that at least. She wasn’t going to start arguing about who would let whom get pregnant later in the marriage.

Lucius cocked his head and thoughtfully observed the petite witch. “Perhaps you haven’t read the fine print of the marriage contract. Any babies will be Malfoys and they will always remain in my care as their father, even if you decide to leave.”

“Nooooo!” the little witch keened, furious and frightened by the Slytherin vortex her life was being sucked into. “I read the entire contract. I saw nothing about you retaining the care of any babies,” Hermione ranted. “You’re lying!”

“It’s in there, but perhaps you don’t read Latin. That part was in the scroll-pattern decorative print at the bottom of the first page.”

Lucius looked at Hermione in some pity. He wanted her to have a full understanding of what they were agreeing to before they were married and he was well aware the clause would make her wild, but there was no way anyone was walking away and taking any child of his out of his life. Some of that obscene amount of Galleons he had bribed the Nuptials Department with had been well-spent on that clause.

“You can’t add clauses to an already signed contract!” Hermione glared at the platinum-haired wizard. “That makes me have to choose between my freedom and my children. Is that what you want? A wife who will hate you? I could never leave any child of mine – I certainly couldn’t give it up to you. Is there any other illegal trap in that adjusted contract that I can’t read? Invisible ink perhaps?” she sneered in excellent imitation of Lucius.

Lucius held back a grin. She really was coming along with those sneers. She would make a passable Malfoy yet. He was signed, sealed and delivered to this marriage. He had had an arranged marriage already; he was looking forward to one he had more or less selected for himself. It was too bad that the bride hadn’t been given the same choice, but c’est la guerre. Draco could carry the tattered, useless Pureblood banner. Oh yes, this little spitting sprite was very much beginning to bring out his predatory nature. He could feel it twitching in his trousers.

More of Lucius’ perfidy hit Hermione and she swallowed a groan. “My Gods,” her throat suddenly constricted, “you can’t have thought I would give up any child of mine solely to you. Therefore, you have already decided if there is a child that you want me to remain on your estate as your wife in all ways, tied to you for all the years of any child growing up there. Why? You can barely stand to look at me, a Muggleborn. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Your intelligence is showing. I applaud it. You think you are trapped. You are absolutely correct. Your only error lies in your interpretation of the contract. It makes perfect sense if you see that you have those values I enumerated to you. Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve explained? Quit thinking like a Gryffindor and try to see this as a Slytherin would. A Muggleborn wife and the possibility of one or more legitimate Halfblood Malfoy babes would alter my Pureblood dynasty forever, but they would be welcomed with today’s lax societal values. My name is already smeared from my first divorce. However, those items are negligent next to the Malfoy financial empire crumbling into obscurity. I’ll do what I must to keep my finances secure for my family.

“My Pureblood way of life and the status derived from it have gone the way of the chartreuse horklump - extinct. Why do you think my family has prospered for these millennia? Because we see our rarified blood as something precious in and of itself? Of course not! It has always been because that rarefied blood translated into status and power. We didn’t give a sow’s tit about the purity of the blood itself. In these times, that same purity is dragging us down. I am in a position to have it both ways. Draco can continue with the Pureblood fairytale and I can bring a new plebeian patina to the fortunes of the Malfoys.”

“So this nauseating union is solely to lift the banner of the noble House of Malfoy at the Ministry and I’m just a convenient weapon for you to use?”

“Don’t forget the convenient bed warmer part. I’ll expect that, too. Trolling the Muggle nightclubs has become boring. I’m looking forward to training you to my specifications.”

“You make it sound like you’re going to put down newspaper all over your house so I don’t piddle on the carpets. You are such a complete arse. You certainly know how to make enemies. Of course, now you’ve made another one - me.”

“See me shiver in my dragonhide boots,” Lucius mocked the witch as he stepped back and relaxed his shoulders against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “I’m all atwitter at being tied to such a fierce foe and you can’t tell me you saw me as anything but an enemy before. I haven’t lost any goodwill of yours, never having had it.” He smiled suggestively at the petite witch, “We’ll see how fearsome you are bent over my knee.”

Hermione gasped and studied the intimidating wizard looking for the joke. There was none to be seen in his demeanor. He would actually try corporal punishment on her? “Is that what you did to the rest of your family? Did they all fall into line to avoid you hitting them? You really are a monster, aren’t you?”

At that Lucius laughed, a sudden bark that startled Hermione, “So refreshingly naïve, my dear. No, that’s not what I meant at all, but that is for another day.” The blond wizard leaned forward again and pinned her with a frosty, calculating stare, “The contract was actually open for anyone to marry your Weasley boy, too, but he’s already married so he’s now more or less protected. Only you were left at risk. Once you and I are married, there will be no more danger to you either. I’m merely stepping forward to protect you.

“You do understand the rules the Ministry has so generously offered to you for honoring the marriage contract and staying out of Azkaban for breach of contract? It was their clumsy gift to appease you while allowing me to take over your contract. We must live together for at least the first year and no outside amours for either of us; I suspect they would look the other way for me if I pressed the point with enough Galleons, but as I’ve said, I’m ready to settle down.

“In any case, my dear, we’ve already covered the detail concerning any of your amorous activities. I hope you will remember what I promised.” Lucius pulled his wand from his sleeve and drew a delicate line across his throat, pretending to slit it. “Marriage is a serious affair, but so is rotting in a North Sea cell. As someone with experience of that foul place I can say with authority that marriage to me far outshines that alternative.”

Hermione was feeling more and more depressed. She knew sharing a few shags occasionally with a very handsome man was preferable to sitting in a squalid prison for three years of her life with who knew what kind of nasty guards finding their way into her cell, but the idea still made her squirm with despair.

Being mated to a calculating wizard who was coldly going to use her no matter if he found her nearly subhuman wasn’t the stuff of girlish dreams even if his looks were. Her only hope was that he would find the loophole of abstinence appealing, but she knew asking the arrogant man to ignore an available warm, female body in his own home for a whole year was as likely as asking a werewolf not to change at a full moon. This man would probably act the wolf far more often than once a month.

A bitter smile chased across Hermione’s face briefly. The arrogant Pureblood hadn’t been wearing burlap and secluding himself in a monastery for the three years since his divorce. The Daily Prophet had reported often on the salacious swath he was cutting through the witch population – and those accounts hadn’t even included the Muggle females he’d apparently been dallying with in those Muggle clubs he’d mentioned.

Lucius droned on putting more nails into the coffin of Hermione’s vague dreams of a happy future married life and confirming her fears, “We could embrace abstinence,” he mused, “but frankly I don’t think I can sustain that for a year. You’re familiar with the Muggle aphorism, “If I’m not near the one I love, I love the one I’m near”. Asking me to deny myself sex for that long would be like asking to you to forgo reading for a year. My suspicion is that those tasks would be equally impossible for either of us. I imagine you can see my perspective even if you don’t like it,” Lucius’ mouth quirked into a sardonic smile.

“And to delicately elaborate, even if I wander and the Ministry allows that, I still want more children. I don’t suppose your grandiloquent Mudblood science has a way of you getting pregnant by me without me touching you?” Lucius was having a very good time taunting his little adversary, holding out a nonexistent hope. There was no way he wouldn’t be touching her – a lot.

Hermione went over the options, her lips pinched in distaste. There really weren’t any for her. Lucius wouldn’t dare flout the Ministry’s edict against him sleeping around for the year – would he? She would be even more humiliated. Selfish prick.

“Turkey baster,” she mumbled.

“Turkey what?”

“Turkey baster. It’s a plastic tube with a rubber bulb on the end. You, uh…um, put your, um, stuff in the tube and then I insert the tube and squeeze the bulb forcing it out.” Hermione turned bright red; her cuticles became of absorbing interest.

“My…stuff. You mean my…” Lucius glowered, “and just how does my stuff get into this tube?”

Hermione’s cuffs suddenly needed intense investigation, too. “You know,” she trailed away. When several seconds went by without any comment from him, she looked up at the wizard’s blank stare of incomprehension and she became irritated, “How should I know how men jack off?” Her voice rose in defiance as her temper frayed to a thread.

“Jack off?” Lucius looked confused for a second until the dots connected, “You mean I masturbate and fill this tube, then give it to you to insert in your body?” He was astounded, “And just why is the device called a turkey baster, then, if neither of us is a turkey?” Lucius held up one beautifully manicured hand, “Never mind, I think I would rather not know.”

“Well, one of us is certainly a turkey,” Hermione mumbled, embarrassed at the entire conversation and defensive at having to explain something any Muggle would know without her having to go into disturbing detail. “All you do is gobble, gobble, gobble,” she muttered to herself.

“More of your mannerless name-calling, I surmise,” Lucius caught the quiet observation and wasn’t sure what the term denoted in Muggle slang, but he was sure he’d been insulted. He decided to ignore the poor behavior of the Mudblood. What could one expect of one so low-bred after all?

“Leave it to Muggles to design such a crude device,” the blond wizard sneered. “Likely the Muggles don’t want to touch each other either if they can help it, so judging from the multitudes of Muggles, those turkey things must be sold on every street corner. But I won’t lower myself to such a crude device. The glamour will have to do.”

Hermione jabbed right back. “Why can’t you just Stupefy me so I don’t have to suffer you touching me?”

“Well of course, I’ll just do that and then you can sell your story to that bitch, Rita Skeeter, and make me a laughing stock.” Lucius waved his hand in an arc above his head, “Daily Prophet headline, ‘Lucius Malfoy has to Stupefy his wife for sex’. Do you think I’m stupid?” Lucius narrowed his wintry eyes at the guile of the Muggleborn, reluctantly impressed with her devious maneuver. That was truly a masterful move.

Hermione sucked in an affronted breath. She had never considered such a repugnant idea, but the look on Lucius’ face shocked her even more. He actually looked agreeably surprised at what he must think was her attempt to artfully embarrass him in the press.

“If I’m Stupefied, I won’t have any memories to prove anything, you dolt,” she replied, pleased to have bested the blond git at an argument. “You think that woman would just print my story without veritaserum or pensieve corroboration? She’s horrid, but she wouldn’t cross you with a story that lurid without proof. She’s not stupid.”

Lucius was quite sure all that Skeeter woman needed was the vaguest hint and he’d be a headline for everyone to snicker at, but he merely cocked his head, his pale gray eyes slitted in crafty calculation, trained on the small, squirmy female.

Hermione suddenly remembered where she had seen that intent look before. She, Harry and Ron had gotten that very look from Draco numerous times in school when he was deciding if they already knew something that he knew, or he wanted to know something from them. The three of them had laughingly dubbed it the ‘Sly Eye’, and she could instantly see just where Draco had got it from, but she wasn’t laughing now.

The ‘Sly Eye’ from Lucius wasn’t a laughing matter at all. Hermione looked down, away from his unnerving stare and attempted to tuck more of her skirt under her derriere. The floor was getting cold. After her last dig, she didn’t dare demand that he release the spell and let her up.

Lucius definitely was wondering something about the little witch, but he hadn’t a clue that his expression had been tagged and understood. He was wondering if perhaps he had entirely underestimated the devious quotient of the little witch. She had been a brilliant strategist against Voldemort and he needed to remember that fact in face of her innocent, fresh-faced looks.

It was what had prompted his comment about Rita Skeeter. Lucius was long past blushing over someone writing up his sexploits as long as he wasn’t an object for ridicule. However, he knew if he went outside their marriage for sex and it hit the Daily Prophet it would make Hermione so uptight she likely would refuse to do anything at all with him. So for the next year, it would be his new wife gracing his bed. That thought felt very good to him.

There hadn’t been any invisible ink on the contract and she was correct that the extra clause concerning their future children probably wasn’t legally binding on her. She just didn’t have the clout to keep out of Azkaban if she flouted the juggernaut of the Ministry and refused to honor the contract in its altered form - its ‘one hundred thousand Galleons’ altered form, bribed and paid for by him. He, on the other hand did have the clout as long as he was the one paying, but he had signed the contract for the reasons he’d given her and a few others she didn’t need to know about just yet.

Hermione shivered in the silence, knowing there was definitely something going on behind those icy gray eyes that were pinned on her, but she knew if she lived to be two hundred she would never plumb the slippery depths of the Slytherin psyche. And she was going to have to deal with it every day perhaps for the rest of her life.

Could one take self-defense lessons in how to be conniving and unscrupulous, she wondered? Maybe there were spells to make her more cunning and duplicitous so she could survive her unwanted marriage. The spells for mastering chicanery were probably more dark arts stuff so she had little chance of learning any. Slyness came so easily to Slytherins. Gryffindor nobility was going to be nothing but a handicap in that household.

“Now if you can behave for ten minutes, I’ll release the spell and we can get this farce of a ceremony over with.” Lucius stood and loomed once more over his quarry, impatiently tapping one elegantly shod toe as he waited for the small Mudblood to decide to cooperate. As he waited, he quietly dissolved the invisible barrier he’d raised. It wouldn’t do to have his wife know he had any fear of her abilities. Without taking his eyes off her, he stretched out his hand, accio’d her wand, and tucked it into his robes.

Hermione could see the handle through a hole in the material, but she wasn’t going to attempt to retrieve it. Too late for a wandstrike now. Much too late.

“If you won’t come under your own power, I’ll be more than pleased to take you there with a Mobilicorpus, but I won’t guarantee your skirt won’t wind up around your neck. Your choice.” He waited for her decision; Hermione didn’t have to know that his damaged wand might not be able to carry out that threat.

Hermione was out of options for the moment and the threat of being made a public spectacle, floating around with her knickers on view, made her realize that this supercilious, gilt-edged, rather frightening wizard before her had all the power on his side – for now. She felt miserably vulnerable at the disagreeable fate awaiting her in the next room.

Hermione tried to still the trembling of her lower lip, turning her head away from the formidable sorcerer’s frost-rimed gaze as she slowly raised her arm to mutely show she was ready to get up, fervently wishing she had gloves so she didn’t have to touch him. His skin increased that disagreeable tingle she was feeling as he reached down to pull her up.

tbc...


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Next up, a brief wedding ceremony and then onward to Malfoy Manor.

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