The Wedding - COMPLETE

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Updated 5-8-07

Thank you all SOOOO much for all the carefully crafted reviews you've been so generous with. I adore gettng them and be assured they're read more than once (try 6-8 times doing my basking thing...)

Answering some questions:

Willow Neither Lucius nor Hermione wanted to know the baby's sex ahead of time because it was something they could anticipate together, instead of it being just another bald fact in their lives. Those two do need some unity of purpose and this was one tiny place they could be a true couple like any other, playing what if's and having a common, absorbing interest.

ffpoisongirl I always thought of the magic community as more formal somehow. We don't see Snape in plaid bermuda shorts, or MacGonagall in a see-through nightie (well, maybe Dumbledore did). My vision is just that they are a bit more decorous and ceremonial. No other reason, really, for having them dress in nice clothing to see Hermione's doctor. And I will definitely address Lucius' behavior when he is freed from custody - when the year is up. I think that won't be for a few more chapters yet. It takes time to mold him into a homebody, but I'm working on it. He's a particularly unyielding personality, which I think you've already noticed.

jenny I hadn't planned on Draco as a character in this story, except as an absentee son living with his mother in exile away from the backlash of Voldemort's legacy. He's letting his abortive attempt to kill Dumbledore fade in the memory of his community. I don't know if you've read my other story, "A New Order of Wizards", but Draco figures in that story to some extent as a major pivot to the plot.

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Chapter Thirty-One


Indispensable

Lucius was the first to awaken the next morning after a late dinner the night before. He jumped naked out of bed and rousted a groggy Hermione, “Today I’m going to teach you how to use my gym. You’re going to be a mother and you need to keep up a good regimen of exercises. The doctor said some exercise is good for you so that’s what we’ll do. Hurry up, precious, we have a gym waiting for us.” Lucius quickly disappeared into the bathroom to freshen up for the exercises and Hermione rolled over, pulled up her blankets and dropped right back off to sleep.


Ten minutes later, Lucius, still naked, strode back to the bed, an irate frown marring his face when he saw the inert lump in the bed, “Hermione, get up.” He shook what he thought might be a shoulder, “We have a lot to do today. Gym first, then a nutritious breakfast. By the way, you shouldn’t be eating dessert any more, the excess sugar can’t be good for you. The doctor said sugar should be an occasional indulgence. Up, lazybones. We have a baby to keep healthy.” He started to pull the covers off his wife only to begin a tug of war that might have ended with Hermione almost falling off the bed, if she hadn’t let go at the last minute.


“Fine,” Hermione snarled, “that was my exercise for the day. I’m still sleepy so wake me for lunch. I’ll have those covers back now or you’ll find your black vibrator decorating the trash bin. I mean it, Lucius.”


“Don’t you care about the new life growing inside you? This baby is very important to me, Hermione. I want the best for him or her.” Lucius was indignant at his wife’s insouciant attitude toward her pregnancy. “The doctor said –“


“If you quote one more thing the doctor said I’m going to eat dessert for every meal of the day.” Hermione sighed in resignation, impatiently swiping her disordered curls out of her face. Why had she not known that Lucius would bend that formidable Slytherin mind of his to protecting and defending his unborn child? Hadn’t he told her he’d been reading a baby book? What husband ever did that? She was just stupid, that’s what.


She’d seen him in action defending Draco against any slights at school, even when the brat hadn’t deserved it. Lucius went all out when it was his child. He’d gone all out over his whole bloodline. Yup, just stupid.


Hermione sat in bed, her elbows resting on her knees, chin cupped in her hands, contemplating her irritated husband. Slowly she started to see the bright side to her problem. He was showing her how much he cared, perhaps without even being aware of how much he was giving away. He couldn’t let her into his private feelings any other way, but he could allow himself to take charge of her health and the baby’s. Poor darling. Lucius wasn’t in Azkaban but he was in a prison of his own making. Maybe the baby was the key to releasing him.


“One more hour of sleep, Lucius. I need it. You heard the doctor say I would be needing extra rest. So I’ll compromise. One extra hour of sleep now, and I’ll do some light exercises and eat your nutritious breakfast – without dessert. Okay?”


Lucius was never the least bit slow when it came to grabbing an advantage and he realized Hermione was basically giving him everything he wanted in exchange for an extra hour’s sleep which she probably needed anyway. “Agreed. Move over, I’m going to get an extra hour, too.” He threw the covers back on the bed, gathered Hermione under him and was out like a snuffed candle in thirty seconds. His warm, toasty body lulled his pregnant sprite into slumber soon after.


Two hours later, Lucius woke up wondering how Hermione had managed to sneak her feet into his crotch again. At least they were warm, thanks to him. He stretched, acknowledging that the extra sleep had been good for him, too. They had spent three days with poor nights’ rests and he guessed he was recovering as much as Hermione was. He smiled down at his blissfully sleeping wife, content to be holding her in his arms. He nuzzled his face under her dainty, little ear, pressing a light kiss to her neck and inhaling her special, mesmerizing fragrance.


It was strange how he never seemed to get enough of her scent; maybe he never would, but somehow that didn’t dismay him like it should. He was married to her so it maybe it was okay to show appreciation, even esteem to a wife with whom he had to live anyway. It was certainly important to protect his child. Perhaps his chaotic life was starting to look up, he mused, as he toyed with a soft, honey brown lock of her hair. A baby to love. For him. Now that was a real blessing of the Goddess.


Hermione was as good as her word – when she finally woke up an hour after Lucius. He’d spent the intervening hour holding his slumbering wife and weaving private daydreams about his growing family, putting them reluctantly away when Hermione stirred in his arms. She woke much more refreshed and gamely followed Lucius to his indoor gym where she learned how to work his various machines, doing a few repetitions on several of the ones Lucius decided were safe for her to do.


He established a small routine for her and wrote it down, pinning it to the gym wall so she could follow the instructions every day. He chose gentle, light exercises to keep her fit as her body changed its center of gravity. After the gym, they ate a breakfast that Lucius approved, which Hermione thought must have been specially formulated for people with no taste buds - but she went along with it for the sake of peace.


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Within a month, however, Lucius’ regimens were already beginning to get on her nerves when she discovered he had a multitude of books covering his study desk on all aspects of pregnancy, including exercises, meals (where he’d obtained the recipes for the horrid, bland dishes – a copy sent to the elves, the fiend), fresh air pursuits (she was trotted around the garden twice a day like a pet dog, Crookshanks disdaining to make the circuit with them), important vitamins and minerals (their bedside table was littered with supplements Lucius had obtained from the apothecary – his owl was now a valued regular there), and worst of all a book on all the things that could go wrong in a pregnancy. Lucius constantly grilled her on her burgeoning body - any backaches, muscle spasms, blurry eyes, headaches, excess thirst, swelling extremities, and on and on, until one day during their twice daily garden walk he asked her about any unusual discharges and she put her little foot down.


“Lucius,” she halted and looked up at him, her eyes flashing in sheer temper, “I know you care about this pregnancy, but while you’re protecting my body, you’re absolutely making me demented. If I could, my love, I’d let you be the pregnant one, truly! But from where I stand, it looks a lot like you don’t trust me at all with the health and safety of our child. I know trust is a big issue with you, but you have to trust me to care as much as you do. I do care. I love this baby as much as I see you do, but I need to feel that you trust me with your unborn child. Right now, I don’t.” Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him over to a small, black marble bench on the gravel path between the low box hedges and sat them both on the cool surface.


Lucius scowled in frustration at his wife, not knowing how to explain his feelings. “Precious, I trust you. I just want to be involved with this baby. I…” he hesitated, not wanting to expose any more of his previous unpleasant marital experiences, knowing it made Hermione livid, but failing to see any other way, “I was shunted aside with Draco. Narcissa was hand in glove with that charlatan she had for a doctor and they never let me know much of anything, even when I asked. I was lucky to even be present in a waiting room for the birth. I don’t want that with you. Perhaps I’m going a bit overboard,” he heard an unladylike snort from his petite spouse, “but I don’t want to be shunted aside this time. So I merely tried to make myself indispensable. I see nothing wrong with that.”


Hermione growled, “You’re comparing me to her again. I hate that and I hate your suspicious nature, seeing clandestine lovers sneaking into my knickers any time I drop a friend’s name into conversation. I make one little mention of Fred and George Weasley doing well with their magic tricks shop and you behave as though I were meeting them in secret for double-sided sex.


"Did Narcissa wound you so thoroughly that you can’t slough off her alley cat behavior and deceptive schemes and let me be a separate person who does want you, does want your child? I am totally committed to you, our child, and to this marriage – haven’t I proved it to your satisfaction yet? I’ve eaten food that I wouldn’t feed a Death Row Death Eater, swallowed so many pills and potions my stomach could qualify as a full-service pharmacy, and exercised myself into – okay, I’ve exercised myself into the best shape of my life, you’ve got me there. But you need to TRUST me. I know my own body. The doctor is watching over me and mostly I need you to let go of that woman and be my moral support – you know, the hard stuff. Kissing, hugs, holding me, keeping my feet warm,” now she heard a snort, “telling me I’m beautiful when I look like a hag with a horklump.”


Lucius grinned albeit uneasily, “That part’s easy. I always tell you that you look beautiful when you look like a hag with a horklump – ouch!” He got a particularly sharp elbow in his ribs.


Hermione patted his hand in spurious consolation for his ribs but said seriously, “I need you most of all, Lucius. You ARE indispensable. You’re my husband. What you give me, no one else can - no one else ever could. Do you understand?” She gazed at him earnestly, her warm, brown eyes now pleading. “Don’t let her steal away our new marriage. She’s not important any more. We are. This is.” Hermione held his hand to her slightly rounded belly. “Think about it. I’ll see you at dinner, my love.” Hermione stood up, leaned back down and kissed Lucius, then apparated into the mansion.


A slight wind ruffled his hair around his shoulders as the blond wizard sat, absently rubbing his abused ribs while lost in thought about his difficulty in letting go of ancient history and his compulsive need to take care of Hermione and just how much control he could bear to give up to her. After a long interval of intense self-examination - an almost lost art for arrogant Lucius - he apparated to his study and carefully put away his baby books, deciding he already knew the important things about having a baby and he’d better trust his wife to handle the rest - somewhat. Hermione was right – logically his past was just that – past. Narcissa’s influence and wounding behavior shouldn’t have the power to hurt him in his new beginning. Something unfurled in his gut at the realization he was truly free of those miserable times.


A growing sense of peace invaded and illuminated the twists and turns of his complex mind and he finally smiled. If he had to trust a woman to take care of his cherished and longed-for unborn child, he had one of the most intelligent, resourceful females in the wizarding world to rely on, even if she did throw a nasty elbow and had a tongue like a rapier. Lucius cleaned up his desk and got back to work on his financial investments, feeling lightened of a load he hadn’t even realized he had been carrying.


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Hermione apparated into ‘Crookshank’s Cattery’, as she spitefully thought of the bedroom her predecessor had used. It was rather an apt name for both the present and the previous occupant, she thought, puckishly pleased with the name. She settled next to her pet on the expanse of warm, fuzzy blue blanket covering the bed which he preferred, petting him and letting loose her worries to him. “Well, Crookshanks, this time he didn’t even react when I called him ‘my love’ – twice! Do you think that’s an improvement?” She leaned her head in her hand, propping herself up on her elbow as she smoothed the fluffy fur of her pet. “I do. I really do think it’s going better. It’s just that he’s a terribly difficult one to reach, being so wrapped up in his old scars.


Hermione listened to her pet’s sympathetic purrs and replied, “I can’t just tell him I’m in love with him. For one thing, he would never believe it because of his family and his own past experiences. For another, it might spook him so much he’d never open up and love me back if he felt he was under any duress to return the sentiment.


"Then there’s that quirky Slytherin mind of his.” She grinned, “his personality foibles are so cute, Crookshanks. He’d probably feel he had to make some sort of push to use my feelings to his advantage. It’s what any self-respecting Slytherin would be obliged to do. I think it must be genetic. I only hope my Gryffindor genes can counteract the worst of their sly natures.


“He’s a very clever man, but he can’t see that anything that gives him an advantage is what I want, too, for him, because I love him. But I do think I made a bit of progress today.”


Crookshanks licked her hand to encourage more petting when she slowed down as she pondered her words with her husband. The idle petting resumed and Crookshanks stretched out in feline appreciation.


“Maybe he’ll let me be the pregnant one now and quit wrapping me in cotton wool. I love him, but sometimes I want to throttle that man.” Hermione laughed happily, “I don’t know how I wound up falling in love with such a nasty specimen. Well, he really isn’t so much any more. Toothless does describe him in some ways now – don’t you dare tell him I said that.” Hermione mock-glared at her cat. Then she lay back, flipped a corner of Crookshank’s blanket across her legs and was soon asleep. Her plans for doing a bit of research slid down her to-do list to languish below ‘Resting – Part Two’.

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Ah, a major admission. Hermione has stepped out of the shadows, to herself at least. And maybe Lucius will put one of his ghosts to rest.

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