Prisoners of Love - A Mystery - COMPLETE

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Updated 10-27-07


I wish I could show my appreciation for all your delightful reviews with something more than words. But, since your words are my favorite things to get, maybe mine will be well received by you. You all deserve the best. Thank you!

Now for Comments and Questions:

Sheherazade You have a thing for Angry Lucius? Obviously I do too, or he would always be sweetness and light in my stories (yuck). If you mean Lila as the crushing girl, she's gone. No more of her in the story.

Good one pittwitch!! - Hermione turning a bit Slytherin because of the frequent injections. Loved that.

meankitty69 - You definitely will find out who the bad people are - just not right now.

Damiana - Thanks for the heads up on the lost word. It's been found and placed in the story. And the lemon scones were great.

Scary Bear hair I think you've hit on a feature of the story I've added almost subconsciously as part of his 'training'. Yes, Hermione is teaching Lucius tolerance. Good call.

Time to pack up and move. Ready?


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Chapter Thirty-Two

The Estate


The last month of Hermione’s pregnancy found them both living in an armed camp of polite meals, punctuated by occasional social engagements which Hermione found trying when it was his friends and he found trying when it was hers. Lucius dragged her to several stilted dinners with drawn out speeches and civilized drinks in some Pureblood’s home with Hermione doing her best to look suitably interested in someone’s new racing hippogriff or fending off subtly catty remarks about her looks and background. However, it was just as tiring for Lucius, spending an evening with her friends who were trying hard to adjust to having the senior Malfoy sitting at his ease in Hermione’s little parlor.

They found Lucius more entertaining and willing to be pleased than they had feared, but his manners tended toward the formal keeping them all from any of their more youthful pursuits, such as vulgar charades, or playing poker round the dining room table. They might have been surprised at Lucius’ command of the rules of poker, but he definitely would have been annoyed by the lowbrow, guessing game. Hermione had never been much for the nightlife, but the friends had occasionally repaired to the local pub for a convivial evening. Seeing Lucius in his formal evening wear tended to depress that idea too, and in any case, Hermione couldn’t have anything to drink any more.

Otherwise, the two spent quiet, cautious evenings at home sitting in the little parlor reading or studying accounts. Only at night, when they retired to their bedroom was a truce called as Lucius made love to Hermione desperately, treating her like rare crystal, but bringing them both to sweating, panting orgasms that brought sexual relief while it did nothing for their mutual hurts. Hermione’s healer had given her blessing on marital relations as long as they didn’t try to do it flying on a broomstick, but the last two weeks were to be proscribed.

Lucius and Aggie had negotiated an armed accord that Hermione’s well-being was more important than either of their own agendas so disagreements were kept to a minimum. In any case Lucius found it difficult to intimidate the old woman who failed to recognize his natural superiority and ignored his edicts if she didn’t agree with them.

As Hermione’s pregnancy advanced to the final weeks, with her healer’s approval she retreated from both social worlds to stay comfortably ensconced in her small home attended by Aggie every other day, and by an increasingly restless Lucius who could only allay his fidgets by taking Hermione for short daily walks and micromanaging whatever fell across his awareness including her new wardrobe plans, household finances, and the way she organized the Appeal parchments for his estate library. Basically, he drove her crazy.

Lucius grew more and more adamant that he wanted her to move to his estate before the baby was born so she could do whatever needed to be done before for the birth of their child. Unfortunately for Hermione her parents were pressuring her to do the same and the day came when she knew she had to move to Lucius’ estate. She had only another couple of weeks to go and it was time.

When Hermione announced she was ready to move to Lucius’ home he wasted no time bundling her clothing, personal effects, parlor items and the Appeal parchments into containers and quickly apparating them all to his mansion. Two hours after she’d finally given in, she was rather unceremoniously grabbed by her husband and apparated into foreign territory.

“Did you have to apparate me?” Hermione had wanted to put off her changeover for as long as possible, knowing that once she was in his home, his attitude would change, nor was she wrong.

“We could have come by thestrals in the coach I suppose, or the floo, but I asked your healer and she said occasional apparations were acceptable even this far into the pregnancy. I wouldn’t hurt our child.” First salvo of Lucius as Master.

Hermione gritted her teeth at his assumption of his will being the only one, but she was also chagrined that her healer had okayed the apparation as well as angry that Lucius had gone over her head to gain the approval to move her that way. “Where is my room?” she said abruptly. “I’m tired and I would like to settle in and have a lie-down before dinner. I’m assuming dinner is already planned and won’t be needing my attention.” She wanted to be somewhere that didn’t shout ‘obscenely wealthy Slytherin lives here’.

The foyer where she had been deposited was extremely intimidating as her first glimpse of his home. Her entire home would have fit in the three storey high cavern. Large polished alternating squares of light green and black marble on the floor echoed the main pillars at the four corners in a darker green marble making the entrance rather cold and forbidding. Only the stained glass dome capping the foyer high above and the large front windows helped at all by letting in a sweeping abundance of light through the etched front panes and throwing a multi-colored pattern of light from the dome on the squares of the floor below. Hermione noticed the main panes were etched with the Slytherin coat of arms. That’s going to change, Hermione vowed, infuriated at her cavalier treatment. A Gryffindor lives here now.

“Of course. I can take you to our rooms immediately.” Lucius instantly replied, relieved that she wanted to relax in her new home. “I assume you would rather walk than apparate. We’ll need to go up the main staircase and turn left.” Lucius put out his arm for her to take and he carefully led her over the vast floor to the staircase, their footsteps reverberating like staccato rim shots on a giant snare drum throughout the large chamber as they crossed the large space. Up the grand staircase, left down a wide hall a short way and up another staircase Lucius drew her, to a floor where a long hallway extended in either direction across the front of the imposing mansion. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that they weren’t going up that next flight of stairs she saw continue upwards. Lucius unerringly went left and continued slowly guiding his wife all the way to the end where it turned and another long, wide hallway began.

Hermione stalled, looking at the new hallway in dismay, “Are we anywhere near my bedroom yet? If the dining room isn’t nearby, I think I’ll have dinner in my room. I’m not up to traveling all the way back down to the front.”

Lucius had wanted his wife in his home forever, it seemed, but stupidly he hadn’t thought of the distances she’d be obliged to walk. He apparated everywhere, minor jumps being nowhere near as exhausting as the multiple long ones he had been forced to use to stay in her tiny home.

“We can have dinner in the sitting room of our suite. I’ll notify the elves. Our rooms are in the far hallway off this one. My home is a large square with a central court, so the halls form squares tying into each of the four wings. It’s a simple layout really. I’m sorry I didn’t think of how far you would need to walk between the main rooms and our suite. If you wish I’ll rearrange several rooms for you so all you need will be close by.”

Lucius sighed. Already she was unhappy and they hadn’t been in his home ten minutes. The beauty and spaciousness and the ‘architectural details’ of her new surroundings seemed to be lost on her and he saw she was slowing down and looking weary. He didn’t want to make another mistake so instead of just acting he asked, “Would you let me carry you? It’s a bit further on and I would be pleased to help.”

It was a sign of her fatigue that she accepted his offer and that worried him more. Where was his feisty, independent female? Her final weeks seemed to be weighing her down, physically and mentally. Was that normal or was he somehow responsible for her subdued behavior? He’d send an owl and ask the healer. He didn’t want to take anything for granted at this point.

Lucius scooped Hermione up and set a faster pace down the hall and around the next corner. Predictably another wide hallway loomed, but this time Lucius soon stopped at a set of double doors and put his wife down. He set his wife down, threw open the portals to show Hermione her new quarters and stood back, wanting her to like her new home. “Our quarters,” he said with a flourish.

Hermione stepped through into a large sitting room furnished with several comfortable chairs in side groupings. Two sofas sat facing each other in the middle of what Hermione thought might be called the sitting room. Did mansions even have parlors? If so, it probably wasn’t part of her bedroom. At one side of the room was a tall fireplace in black marble and at the back, four tall French windows with heavy forest green velvet drapes gave out onto a balcony at the back of the mansion. Hermione wondered if this was where Lucius had got the idea for his Azkaban balcony. The wide balcony seemed to give a vista of the rear of the mansion with the grounds marching away into the distance. Closer in to the home was an extensive garden she might like to walk in later. The color scheme for the furniture was predictably green and silver with black accents. A few mahogany tables were scattered around and a long bookshelf covered one wall. There were a few books in it, but mostly various artifacts and other dustables littered the shelves.

Did Slytherins have no flair for colors? Hermione decided she was going to throw red and gold pillows on the furniture and sneak in some of those ivory Aubusson area rugs from the hallway to put over the bland gray carpeting. She shuddered to think what her new bedroom was going to look like. As Lucius walked ahead and opened a door in one side wall she moaned to herself. His sheets had been green. She braced herself for another room full of a color scheme she hadn’t been particularly fond of since her school days.

Lucius was a little puzzled at Hermione’s expression. She looked like she was in pain. He immediately came back to her and picked her up, carrying her to the door he had opened not realizing he was taking her where she really didn’t want to go. “This is our bedroom, tidbit. I’ve gotten used to sleeping with you so we’ll share this room.” He set her down just inside the doorway and saw her eyes were closed. “Hermione?”

Hermione opened her eyes hoping her new personal space wasn’t going to be more of… “Oh! Oh, Lucius!” She turned to her husband in awe. “It’s beautiful!” Her eyes filled with tears and she sniffed ineffectually, blindly looking for a tissue. Red was everywhere.

Oh sweet Guinevere, Lucius rolled his eyes in total exasperation, offering her his handkerchief, an accoutrement he now carried at all times, here we go again. “You like it? Are you crying just like you did with the roses?” He hoped the watering pot act was because of her pregnancy or he’d have to redesign his whole house in bland, neutral colors just to have some peace. The Gryffindor red color especially seemed to make her cry for some reason. School spirit was all well and good, but really! He strode into the room pointing out the main features he’d created for her, hoping to distract her from her tears.

“See the lowered bedframe? That’s to accommodate your petite size. I took the idea from your house. I used Gryffindor colors mostly because I wanted you to feel at home, and, he mumbled to himself, because I don’t want your strange kaleidoscopic sense of colors in my bedroom – red and gold beat ‘holy mess’ any day.

The bedspread was a magnificent scarlet brocade with golden threads. Several small golden and ivory throw pillows nestled at the head in front of bigger scarlet and gold patterned ones. The bedstead itself was a rich, dark cherry color four poster with the same scarlet and gold patterned hangings at the corners and draped overhead. The walls were done in some sort of embossed ivory wallpaper with cherry wood wainscoting. A few restful landscapes dotted the walls.

Hermione wiped her tears and slowly walked into the large airy bedroom gawking at everything at once – the bed stood between two wide, dark golden velvet hung windows, which also faced out toward the garden. The floor was covered in a warm ivory color carpet that Hermione was guiltily glad the elves were in charge of – to her housewifely mind the color was beautiful but would soil quickly.

Two easy chairs in a coordinating but smaller scarlet, ivory, and gold pattern sat facing each other in a cozy arrangement against the opposite wall. The never-ending hallway must march on the other side of that wall, Hermione calculated. Floor lamps stood guard beside each of the easy chairs. Another large black marble fireplace graced the wall that ran between the bedroom and the sitting room with a dark gold velvet loveseat set in front of it. Hermione figured it probably shared a flue with the one in the sitting room. She instantly decided that her only method of transport until the baby was born, would be by floo which she was certain could give her whatever access she might need in this huge barn.

“I put those chairs there for you to have for your reading if you didn’t want the formality of the sitting room,” Lucius waved at the chair grouping. “That small bookcase between the chairs there is for whatever books you’re reading at the moment. You have full run of my library if you wish.” He smiled, still a little worried about her tears, “That was a superfluous comment, I know.” He began pointing again, “That door in the far wall is to our closet. It’s a whole room especially for your clothes and mine. There are several bureaus in there for all our smaller items of clothing. I hope you don’t mind sharing a closet again. I rather liked having our things together after I got used to it. Feel free to spray your perfume wherever you want.” The stupid stuff was his personal aphrodisiac now. One whiff and his rod stood up to attention so fast he got light-headed from the blood rushing south.

“The other door next to it goes to our bathroom. Would you like to see it? Or are you tired?” When Hermione made for the bathroom door, Lucius opened it and let her go through into a female’s paradise. She took astounded stock of everything - mirrors, a vanity, four sinks, cabinets, shelves with fluffy red and gold towels stacked up near a shower good enough for royalty done in ivory marble and large enough for Hagrid and his brother to use at the same time. It even had marble seating along the back. What drew Hermione, though was the sunken tub.

Lucius saw her gaze fasten on the tub, “I added the railing so you would have a handhold if you wanted to use it. I don’t want you to slip. I hope you don’t mind that it’s done in green marble. It’s the only thing I left from before, because the green color is nice when it’s full of water.” He’d also left his tub the same green it had been when Snape had dumped him into it to remind him of his insanely stupid effort to block her from his mind and life. Never again.

Hermione turned to face her husband. “You changed out everything for me?” Her eyes started to well again and Lucius hurried into speech, trying to keep those tears at bay. He’d seen - and caused - oceans of tears in others, but hers hurt him in some obscure manner.

“It needed changing anyway. It hasn’t been changed since my parents’ time and it was long overdue.”

The little witch’s tears dried swiftly as another thought came to her. “Was this bathroom for both you and Narcissa?” Hermione clamped her mouth shut. She couldn’t believe she’d said such a stupid thing in the midst of his total generosity.

Lucius, however, took her comment in another light entirely – or perhaps in the correct light. She’s jealous! he crowed to himself, but kept a polite, disinterested expression on his face. He didn’t want to scare away Hermione’s maiden effort as a possessive wife. “No, this was my bathroom exclusively. There is another bedroom and bathroom off the other side of the sitting room that was Narcissa’s. I sealed the other door from the sitting room because we’ll only need the one bedroom.”

Hermione studied her husband’s face for any irritation at her question, but found nothing but calm serenity. Well…well, good! she thought, relieved that she hadn’t inadvertently opened an unappetizing can of flobberworms. But a conflicting emotion slithered into her mind, He didn’t give me a choice to have my own room – not like Narcissa. Hermione examined Lucius’ latest unilateral decision and finally decided that other problems would probably emerge that would be more important to combat than being given no choice but to sleep snuggled up against her virile husband. In any case, their bed was so big she didn’t see how he could possibly hog the entire thing as he did in her home. She would finally have a bit of room to spread out – if she wanted to.

“Everything is so perfect, Lucius. You’ve made our private space so comfortable for me. I really appreciate your effort and, of course,” she twinkled, a few leftover tears clinging to her eyelashes, “I adore the colors. I hope you don’t mind them too much.”

“To be honest, I’m quite happy with the way the rooms turned out. I guess nearly half a century of one color scheme can get old.” Lucius frowned at his comment. Why did he have to mention he was on the downright stygian side of forty?

Hermione put her arms around what she could reach of Lucius’ more normal-sized waist, still feeling relieved at his now healthier physique, and went on tiptoe to kiss his chin. “Well, I love it all. Thank you. And now, I’m so tired I’m ready to challenge Rip Van Winkle for the title of longest sleeper. Can you take my clothes off? I’m ready to drop.”

Lucius briefly wondered who or what the hell a Ripped Thin Wrinkle was, but immediately set about responding to his wife’s request, removing all her attire in record time. He sent everything she’d been wearing out onto one of the reading chairs for the elves to pick up, lifted his nude wife in his arms and moved back into the bedroom where he gently tucked her under the bedcovers. She was out before he’d managed to get the extra pillows off the bed. Lucius stood there a moment just enjoying the sight of Hermione sleeping in his bed – their bed now. Where she belonged.

tbc...

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The mansion has so many rooms you can each be accommodated in your own suites. Decorate them any way you wish. Lucius will pick up the tab. (He's rich, you know.)

Lucius is trying to make his home attractive to his wife. That's a step forward, isn't it? He's not stupid, but there may be vestiges of self-interest clinging to his new role as husband...

I get a new thrill with each new review. I do hope you liked the chapter.

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