The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

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1-8-10 F

Purefaith91 You are doing me the courtesy of reviewing my stories. I would like to be able to answer your questions. If you are willing, could you 1) note which chapter(s) you are commenting on in your reviews? I have trouble knowing which part of a story you are talking about. 2) Would you be willing to give me your email address so I can answer? If so, you can send it to:
labibliographe@yahoo.com. This is up to you, of course, but I would be happy to give you feedback on your comments. Many thanks!!! LaBib 10-26-10 Tu

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Hi again! I appreciate all your lovely reviews. Thank you!!

We've arrived at Hogwarts and soon we'll have more characters to shape our story. Select a dorm and settle in as our protagonists try to discover what is adversely affecting the attitudes of the wizarding world toward the Purebloods.


As usual, my responses to your reviews and the pics for this chapter are at my LiveJournal:


http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/59705.html


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Chapter Thirty-One

A New Home



“Prospectus,” Lucius intoned, saying the word he had embedded in the gargoyle entrance on his previous trip. The entrance accepted the word and Lucius held tightly to Hermione’s limp form as the stairs drew him up the tower, past the Headmaster’s office and into the private apartment given to him in his interim role.

Lucius stepped out of the stairs, opened the front door, and walked through the small front hall, into the living area, and over to the comfortable if slightly shabby, old-fashioned sofa covered in a faded, red and gold fabric. The sofa was a demarcation line of sorts, separating the living area from a compact kitchen area behind it with a small counter and a tiny stove, sink and old refrigerator. One side of the U-shaped counter space abutted the back of the sofa. A small table completed the eating area beside the living room. Lucius knew the kitchen wouldn’t be used much; the elves would feed them either in the Great Hall or here in their private residence.

The wizard settled his unconscious spouse on the sofa, then quickly drew all the drapes in the apartment including in the bedroom, so nothing of the outside could be seen. He didn’t particularly want to see anything either, but Hermione’s welfare took precedence over his own disturbed feelings.

Because Lucius had recently been at Hogwarts a few weeks before, the first jolt was over for him. He wanted to spare Hermione at least until the morning when they could walk the grounds together. Her frightening, nearly catatonic response to his drawing room made him leery of how she was going to react to the school, but he would try to support her this time, too.

Lucius took a last look round the apartment and decided it was as cozy and non-threatening as he could make it, so he sat beside his unconscious wife, aimed his wand at her temple and said, “Rennervate.”

Hermione’s eyelashes immediately fluttered, her hands flexed and she slowly came to, blinking in dazed confusion for a few seconds. Then she remembered and her head slewed around until she spied her husband sitting by her head on the sofa. “Lucius? Are we there?”

“You’re in our apartment here at Hogwarts, yes. For tonight, we can stay tucked in here and not worry about anything outside. How are you feeling? Sometimes a Stupefy gives one a slight headache.”

Hermione sat up and clasped her hands primly in her lap, embarrassed at her fear of flying and annoyed that Lucius now had a memory of them together that she did not. She shook her head minutely, checking for any pain, then reported, “I do have a slight headache.”

Looking around her at the room, she asked, “Is this where Dumbledore lived?” Her lips quirked, “From the way you described it, I thought we were going to live in a large bandbox. This is really quite spacious- No! Lucius! Put me down!”

He scooped up his bride and carried her swiftly through an open doorway into another room. “Time enough to see your new quarters tomorrow. It’s late and I need my beauty sleep.”

“Lucius!” Hermione iterated, “Put me dow- oh! Oh, my! This is quite lovely.” Hermione was gently set on her feet beside a very large bed with a spindled headboard. Old-fashioned striped wallpaper covered the walls in muted tones. Two nightstands stood at either side of the bed; a duvet of heavy, black silk brocade covered the mattress. The covers were turned back invitingly and on one pillow was a deep crimson rose bud.

Hermione picked up the rose and brought it to her nose to enjoy the bouquet, “How thoughtful of the elves. I do like roses.” She glanced up at Lucius in time to see his eyes flash silver with irritation before his countenance iced over into stolid indifference.

With a gasp of understanding, she twisted and wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist, looking up at him in contrition. “You put the rose there. I’m so sorry, Lucius. You’ve taken such good care of me and catered to my phobia and now I’ve hurt you. Forgive me. The rose is lovely and you know I like it. It’s from your garden, isn’t it?”

Lucius stood immobile and to Hermione it seemed like an eon of tense waiting, but then she felt him relax and his arms came around her, one hand sifting through her curls. “No need to apologize. I know I don’t have a history of thoughtful gestures. I’m pleased you like the flower and yes, it’s from our garden.

Husband and wife stood holding each other, rocking slightly for a few moments, then Lucius tried to stifle a yawn, “Mmmm, I really do need some sleep. The last few days have been extremely stressful.” He gestured to a door set in a small alcove near a tall wardrobe. “The bathroom is through there. That is the only bathroom; there is another door from the bathroom leading into the front hallway of the living area you woke up in. That way visitors don’t have to go through our bedroom to use the loo.”

“Why are you stressed?” Hermione didn’t let go of Lucius; instead she began petting his back. “Is it your money?” He was starting to babble a little and it wasn’t like him. She was worried that his exhaustion must be affecting him.

Surprise was quickly masked on his face as the blond wizard tried to understand all the nuances of Hermione’s question. Lucius was having trouble reacting to Hermione’s concern. It wasn’t usual for her to care. His instinct was initially caution, waiting for the snide comment to follow, but she said nothing more, merely looked up expectantly.

“I’ll tell you as I get undressed, shall I?” Lucius felt her arms slide from around him and he began slipping off his outerwear. “Our financial affairs are getting tangled with more and more investors running scared and some of our own investments are deteriorating due to the panic of those pulling their funds out of the market.” Lucius opened up the wardrobe and, as with the one holding all of the costumes at Malfoy Manor, this wardrobe had an entire room inside.

Her husband disappeared into the interior and Hermione trailed after him, staring at the generous size of their ‘closet’. “You added this?” she asked.

“I enlarged this wardrobe into a room to hold all our apparel. I also had to make the living area and bathroom larger. I expect to entertain here as Headmaster, but also for our own personal social needs. The bedroom and kitchen remain as they were.” He turned to the little witch, “If you don’t mind, I’ll use the bathroom first. I’m half asleep.”

“Of course. I’ll scout out my nightgown and get ready for bed while you’re in the loo.”

“You’re going to wear a nightgown?” Lucius looked almost scandalized. Her nightwear for most of their marriage had matched his – skin.

“I…I thought you were tired,” her face scrunched quizzically.

“Yes, but after a few hours of sleep, I’ll be… refreshed,” he explained with a meaningful, raised eyebrow. “If you still have your headache, of course I’ll understand.”

Hermione affected nonchalance as she ran her fingers through her tumbled locks testing her temples, “No, I think it’s nearly gone already.” A bit of heat kissed her cheeks as she basically told her husband she welcomed his advances. Always before, her participation had consisted of leaving her bedroom door open and feigning a bored acquiescence when he appeared naked at the doorway to take her to bed.

She had belatedly recognized during his two-week disappearance that he had allowed her to enact that fictional boredom more for her comfort than to gain easier access to her bed. His right to her person was expected and he had been quite able to enforce his desires had he wished to do so.

She cringed to think he had spent night after night being treated like a gigolo for hire as he gently herded her into bed with soothing hands and hypnotic kisses. It had been apparent that she had enjoyed his lovemaking, but she had never acknowledged her pleasure in words, unless screams of pleasure counted.

Hermione was determined to start over with her husband, first by welcoming him physically and then by trying her best to uncover whatever disturbance was undermining the Purebloods in wizarding society. The two powerful, Slytherin wizards’ idea of using Hogwarts as a microcosm for sleuthing made a great deal of sense to her and she had a few ideas on how to investigate her new domain.

The little Gryffindor shivered as she remembered where she was. Looking around at her new environs didn’t give her any sense of terror because she had never been in Dumbledore’s private apartments; it was the public areas and the grounds that would test her ability to overcome her phobia. Lucius could be counted on to help, she knew. Perhaps she could help him, too.

Hermione stripped off her clothes and hung them in her new closet, kicked off her shoes and hopped about while she pulled off her stockings. She was reluctant to get into the strange bed without Lucius there to…to…she laughed at herself. She wanted him to get in first and she didn’t know why.

Lucius re-entered his new bedroom ten minutes later, wearing his green silk robe untied and hanging off his shoulders, to find his nude wife standing next to one of the short footposts of the bed, leaning against it. “Why aren’t you in bed yet? Is there something wrong with it? Are you feeling unwell?”

Hermione clasped her hands in front of her, unconsciously pushing her breasts together and nervously offered, “I want you to get in first.”

Lucius was beginning to worry that he really was too old for his wife. He was dead tired and had barely perused her tiny, sweetly naked body. Her merely cocked his head, a silent question in his eyes, but he immediately went to the far side of the bed, tossed off his robe around one of the footposts and slid under the covers.

“Ah, Merlin, that feels good.” He scissored his legs a few times under the cool sheets, then lay still, his pale hair tangled around his head on the pillow. “Well?” he said, closing his eyes with a sigh.

Hermione approached her side of the bed, took a moment to look at her relaxed spouse gently lifting the covers over his chest with a soft scything of air as he breathed, then she slid under the covers on her side of the bed. The cool sheets made her shiver just a bit as she settled on her back in imitation of her husband’s pose. The little witch giggled as the errant thought of two effigies lying on their tomb passed through her mind.

“I wanted you to get in first,” she hesitated, trying to put into words her jumbled feelings, “I think because this isn’t like before. It’s a new start, certainly for me. I guess it is a symbol. This isn’t you coming to my bed. This is our bed and this is our first night sleeping in it together. I am climbing into bed with you voluntarily. Do you see?” Hermione turned toward her husband wanting him to understand she was in effect coming to him willingly.

Lucius was dead asleep.

~~~~~

Hermione was surprisingly lighthearted the next morning as she woke to see the sun casting a golden sliver of light onto the floor. The curtains were closed on the windows and the room was dim except for the one slender bar of light. Yawning, she turned to Lucius’ side of the bed to see him still sound asleep. He had hardly moved at all during the night.

His exhaustion began to worry her. He usually had energy to burn – Hecate knew he burned enough of it off on her at night. But last night his normal routine had been interrupted by the trip and her concerns. He had taken care of her just as he promised. Hermione felt braver in the sunlight and was in a rather energetic mood herself, but didn’t want to bother the tired wizard if he needed to sleep.

Slipping from the bed, she spent a few moments in the loo, showered and dressed herself in jeans and a jumper, and went back into the bedroom and around to Lucius’ side of the bed. Suddenly she had a deja vu experience, remembering waking up her first morning with her new husband and smacking him awake. She’d been so naïve, not understanding when he warned her not to spank him unless she meant it. A reminiscent smile lit her face and that was what Lucius saw when his eyes fluttered open.

“Hermione?” Lucius smiled uncertainly back at his wife as he sat up. Letting the covers drop to his waist. He absently rubbed his chest wondering why she was standing there looking distinctly sappy. “Are you all right? No after effects from the Stupefy?” He stretched his arms over his head and shrugged his shoulders, loosening the muscles from his long, nearly petrified sleep. “I think I woke up in the same position I fell asleep in. My body feels like I was packed in a coffin.”

“I…,” Hermione blushed, “I was just seeing if you were all right. You slept very heavily.” She pushed her hair behind an ear, “I don’t have a headache any more.” Her cheeks went bright red with her awkward announcement.

The invitation wasn’t blatant by any means, but to Lucius it was a clarion call and he understood that his wife was wondering if he was ‘refreshed’ enough without asking outright. He leaned forward quickly, startling her, snaked one arm around his petite partner and began stripping off her jeans like so much denim banana peel, holding her against his torso. Her jumper was dispatched over her head, mussing her curls and leaving Hermione with only a lacy bit of bra and a thong, both part of the lingerie Lucius had ordered for her from Madam Malkin. The jumper and jeans he had decidedly NOT ordered.

“Lucius! A simple yes or no would have done. I didn’t mean -” Hermione’s faint complaint was ignored as her lacy underwear also hit the floor; Lucius didn’t think she was very serious as her arms had found their way around his neck; a feminine little giggle in his ear punctuated her willingness to be ravished.

“You did mean, but I won’t require an answer.” Lucius tossed her onto the middle of the bed and shimmied down her body until his face was even with her navel, “Actually I feel very well, thank you for asking,” and his thumbs slid into his little witch’s neat muff, parting her, a long swipe of his tongue rendering her abruptly speechless except for short gasps and mewls.

Silence settled over the bedroom like a warm, fuzzy blanket as Lucius sought to quench his sexual thirst with his wife’s nectar, a lazy finger inserting itself into the source of that nectar and curling up to rub the sensitive spot that always sent her into a spiraling tizzy. Her helpless little tugs on his hair, and her less helpful pulls on his ears to bring his face closer to her, made him gently disentangle her soft hands from his head and hold them on her stomach with one hand as he continued with his intimate exploration.

“Ah! Ah! Lucius, it’s… oh… yes! Oh, Lucius! Ohhhh…” Hermione’s breathless whispers caressed her husband with the sibilant sounds of her urgent pleas for more of his wicked tongue.

“Mmmm, you taste so good,” Lucius single-mindedly worked his wife’s tense, needy nerve endings until he got what he was waiting for – her breathless whimpers rising in pitch and volume as she climbed toward her peak. Hermione’s litany of gasps suddenly hitched in her throat, telling Lucius she was on the edge of forever and he suddenly lifted his face from his personal playground.

“Noo-ooo,” she managed, but her husband crawled upward over her and aligned himself with her center.

“Hush, witch, you have no say in…this!” and he drove himself up into the wet place his tongue and fingers had just abandoned. Fiercely, his thrusts stretched and slid, pushing, then retreating, in a demanding, erotic dance controlled and owned by a wizard husband bent on the conquest of one provocative, mouthy, feminine, little witch wife. He’d had a soignée, sophisticated wife for most of his adult life. Having a new wife who was tiny and cute as a kitten – with claws – was fast growing into an obsession. Lucius ramped up his thrusts.

Hermione’s hands grabbed for her husband’s shoulders in an attempt merely to hold on as her slight body was inexorably shoved up the bed with each plunge inside her. She wrapped her legs around Lucius’ waist, but that only invited deeper penetration as she desperately sought to hold out against the overwhelming stimulus being slammed into her with each clench of her lover’s glutes.

Lucius wrapped his fingers over Hermione’s shoulders to hold her in place as he sent her a dazzling, heady succession of quick deep stabs, then watched triumphantly as she keened with a high, piercing wail and went rigid, no longer fighting his pounding, sensuous movements. Suddenly, she was shuddering, her petite frame taken over by her tumultuous climax, milking Lucius from the inside as he continued to press himself into her.

Hermione’s body finally went limp as the climax waned and she clutched at Lucius’ arms as his body went into its final run for his own erotic summit. It didn’t take long as the wizard felt his balls lift, the tingle at the root signaling the end for him, too. His pace didn’t slacken, his muscles driving his body hard to reach the pinnacle and suddenly he was freefalling into his own brand of heaven, a shout of ‘Hermione’ telling her he was cresting within her.

Several seconds of the suspended, erotic tableau ticked by with the two of them gulping in air until slowly they relaxed into each other, Lucius cradled on his wife’s smaller frame as she held him tightly. One minute more, then two - their syncopated breathing crawled its way back to normal and the early morning air began to cool their sweat-slicked bodies.

Finally, Lucius gently withdrew and rolled to the side to lie facing the little witch, idly wondering how she felt about having her brains screwed out in Dumbledore’s bed. He smiled, but didn’t ask. “Are you all right?” he asked instead.

“I think that particular question is precisely how I wound up like this,” she replied, her soft lips quirked in amusement, one small finger tracing her husband’s wet chest down between his pecs to his navel.

As her finger traveled lower, Lucius caught it and pulled it up for a brief kiss before sitting up. “Shite! Is that the time?” he moaned as he caught sight of the old-fashioned mantel clock on the bureau. “Sorry, love, I hate to fuck and run, but I haven’t much time.” He shot a brief grin her way saying, “Forgive me, sprite.” Lucius rose and ambled toward the loo.

Hermione leaned against the headboard and let her eyes roam over the delightful view of the very masculine, trim body walking away from her, wondering why she was always drawn to the sight of his butt like it was some sort of Holy Grail. She sighed in pleasure – so firm and tight yet flexible in that golden ivory skin. Its own piece of erotic artwork. She was sated, but his butt never failed to enchant her.

“If you like it so much, it is always on offer, you know,” Lucius teased, seeing her absorption from the bureau mirror as he strolled past it. At her startlement, Lucius stopped for a second and turned around. “You don’t truly prefer that side of me, do you?” He gestured down at his momentarily replete pride and joy, “You seem to have so much more fun with this side,” he smiled.

Then his mouth twisted in resignation, “But the teaching staff is arriving this morning and I barely have time now to shower, dress and have a small breakfast. I’ve called a meeting for nine. Do I have your promise that we will go outside together later? It would be best if you didn’t react poorly to your new environs alone outside somewhere. I should return in no more than two hours.”

Hermione didn’t want to go outside anyway, so she nodded, “I’ll make sure there is some breakfast for you when you finish in the bathroom.” She had been watching his bum in the mirror, but his noticing meant that he’d been peeking at her, too. The little witch bounded off the bed in high spirits.

Half an hour later, as they were finishing their hasty meal, Lucius handed Hermione a list of necessities that Snape had given to him. “We need these supplies before the school term starts. That gives us only three days now. Severus said Narcissa would be happy to go with you and help you gather the items on this list. Floo her if you like, but this needs to be done quickly. If we have that stroll before lunch and you feel all right, perhaps you can get the shopping in this afternoon. The supplies will need to be distributed after they are brought here and that might take a few days for delivery.”

Hermione read over the list, seeing that everything could be purchased in Diagon Alley stores. She took a deep breath and committed herself, “I can floo her while you’re in your meeting. Are there accounts at the stores or do I need to pay cash?” She thought a minute, “How do I get there?”

Displaying his normal business acumen, her husband said briskly, “Hogwarts has standing, official portkeys for several places. Ask the elves. These orders are big ones, therefore, no money up front. Just sign for everything. All the stores should have accounts for the school. If they don’t, start one. Tell them cash on delivery.” Lucius rose from the cozy breakfast table near their serviceable, small kitchen. As he walked over to the wall peg in the hallway to retrieve his robes, Hermione saw his body had revived from its morning exercise and was again announcing his ‘availability’ with a pronounced tent in his trousers.

“Forgive the observation, Lucius, but is that thing ever truly flaccid?”

Lucius looked down at the protuberance below his belt, “To be precise,” he grinned, “usually not, when I’m anywhere near you. So the fault lies squarely at your feet. Or…perhaps a little higher up,” he added after judiciously scanning his wife’s curves.

Hermione was taken aback. “Me? Why me? You mean only me?” she squeaked.

Lucius briskly walked on toward the door, throwing his robe over his arm, “Only you. Excuse me, I’m going to be late for the teachers’ staff meeting.”

“You aren’t going outside with that are you?” she waved at his billowing trouser front. “Put on your robes. Everyone will see.”

“Oh, it will disappear by the time I get to the meeting, but I’m not ashamed of my reaction to my wife. I don’t care who sees me leaving my quarters like this. I see it as something of a trophy.”

Lucius headed calmly out the door leaving Hermione with her mouth hanging open in shock. She blinked twice and sat down. Must be a Slytherin thing she thought. It took her ten more minutes of disjointed musing to come up with the argument that Headmasters with hard-ons shouldn’t be traipsing through the halls in front of impressionable youngsters. It was as well that none had arrived yet. Her husband’s assertion that he only became aroused by her was firmly relegated to the realm of improbable fantasies invented by a devious Slytherin merely to entertain a naïve Gryffindor.

Hermione resolutely marched downstairs to the Headmaster’s office and found her own small domain, a storage closet off the main office that Lucius had expanded for her use. She looked around at the cozy space where Lucius had designed shelves for her collection of books, which had been shrunk and transported on the coach with them. After reorganizing a few titles the elves had shelved to different places, she settled at her small desk and got out her research.

tbc...


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I'd be pleased to hear from you about the chapter - AND - which House have you chosen to settle into and WHY?

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