Beyond the Veil -- COMPLETE

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Updated 7-29-08


Well, back again with another installment. What? Hmmph! Someone at the rear yelled, "We want lemons!" Who was that? *peers into crowd* It just so happens that this chapter has one. I hope you enjoy it.


Some replies to comments:


sisterae - Lucius is waking up to the desirability of his spouse to others. Definitely. I rather like caveman Lucius also. And as Hermione trusts Lucius more, I imagine her worries about other witches will decline. More plot will develop soon.


Muffy – I’ll have to watch that Judy Garland movie again. Lucius is easy to write as a superior snob. It’s his softer side that has to be handled just right. In my universe, Lucius is NOT a warm and fuzzy man - mostly.


Malfoysplaymate – Thank you! More coming up.


tambrathegreat – You’re preaching to the converted here. Jason Isaacs is my favorite actor! I like the prison pic, too. He says so much with that bewildered face. Another actor would have done a menacing grimace and been not nearly as effective. If anyone can be high-handed and doting at the same time, it’s Lucius. Just ask Hermione LOL. We see Lucius at his Pureblood snobbish best at the ball. The Minister, Grogan Stump, learned something from him, I think.

Oh, I don’t think he’s the Wizard of Oz. Read on.


Gryffindor_Slytherin – Yes, Uncle Malfoy’s love life wasn’t the best. As for Madam Armbruster, we’ll meet her again.


Rini – I think diamonds probably weigh a bit, especially for a small witch like Hermione. She held up well, though. OMG, it’s been a million years since I’ve read the Wizard of Oz series. I, of course, was going by the movie’s red shoes. Silver, huh? [tucks away new nugget of trivia] Nah, all the wealthy witches didn’t have horrid taste – I just had fun with the grotesque ensembles [snicker]. Lucius is a wonderful dancer, isn’t he?


pittwitch – I think I’d resort to the nether breeze Hermione was avoiding before I’d wear those pantalettes. You can visit your Wizard of Oz plot bunny in this next chapter if you like LOL. Lucius is becoming more territorial by the chapter. Your other question I can’t (read won’t) answer. Sorry.


Lady Miya – I’ve read so many Regency romances, I could probably do a country dance in my sleep. As for your musings – no answer. Sorry.


FlowersBecomeScreens – In this era power was perhaps even more important than in their modern time. Lucius knows how to grasp it in any time period. And Hermione is a very fast study. Yeah, I could easily envision Lucius as a lollipop. And yes, a bit of the murk in this story is clearing. You must be a little clairvoyant about this next chapter. Genius minds, I’ll flatter myself.


Snapes_Goddess – I’ve always thought the Victorian era typified kitsch, barring most of the furniture. If you’re a clutter nazi, you’d court a myocardial infarction in my house LOL. Yup, wives of military personnel may as well be in uniform also. Their social skills are sometimes as important as their spouses' weaponry skills.

Dance cards! I’ve never actually seen one. Fascinating! Well, Lucius was spared that indignity. He didn’t have to pad his unders at all. [grin] As for more young witches coveting Lucius? Quite probably.


Visitkarte – Squibs are supposed to be the key? Don’t give up. 8-)


blue artemis – I admit I had fun making the matrons’ dresses and jewelry as bilious as possible. I’m happy you got a dance with Lucius. Could you smell the lime scent? Yes, he’s a master at political chicanery.


rachellehcar – Hello, another Delightful Delurker. Welcome! I read some Snape/Hermione, but haven’t delved much into the Draco/Hermione literature. I guess I prefer the older wizards. More seasoned, mature, and years more kinky [snicker]. There’s more life story to expand, I think. Although it’s definitely not necessary to a good plot. Malfoys are prime items for stories.

I’m smiling about your comment on plurals and possessives. Such easy rules – so easily broken. It is easy to find rules on the internet so I gnash my teeth at transgressions. Bah.

Oooh, yes, I just came across that pic. They might have drawn it for my story, sigh. Thanks!
http://fc08.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/110/7/7/Lucius_and_Hermione_by_perselus.jpg


sheherazade – I couldn’t write a ball in 1817 without a waltz. Now THAT would be scandalous. I’d be drummed out of the AFF corps. Did you know I attended a ball recently – in a real castle? With Lucius? It was purely fictional, of course, but fun.


Heidi191976 - Thanks, Heidi. You’ll see what happens below..


Clare1984 – Funny! It didn’t occur to me that Lucius’ dance card was probably shredded by eager witches grabbing for it. And jealousy comes into play. Good call!

It was very enjoyable dressing both Hermione and Lucius. (Well, I like undressing him in print better.) Lemons you say? How about this chapter? I imagine if you wanted to visit Lucius in Azkaban it could be arranged. You may need to get ‘friendly’ with a guard or two first, though. Is Lucius worth it?


angelprince – I’m trying to think if I gave clues or you’re 'just dense'. Sorry I can’t answer, even though my fingers are itching to do just that. Now you’ll have to tell all about that dirty dancing you and Lucius did behind the arras after supper. Details!! (I won’t tell Hermione.)


Scary Bear Hair- I’m glad you think Lucius isn’t too sweet. And I think I like my story, “Lucius and the Waif,” best, still.

I know where you were dipping into the champagne, but mum’s the word. It’s always fun to dress one’s characters. Your Nomads of Trilos characters get to have much more exciting clothes than mine. The Minister’s wife came to life more than I planned. I liked her.

Don’t worry. Smut alert this chapter. 8-)


Citten – Oooh, Pride and Prejudice. Colin Firth. Sigh. No more ball – will you accept smut instead? Illuminating smut to be precise…


nitesfool – Oh, I AM sorry, nitesfool. Here’s another chapter [gives consoling pat on shoulder]. I do consider myself a gilt-edged Lucius freak. As for your question on Hermione, be patient. I leave no tongue untutored.


Damiana – All very good questions, all unanswerable, which leaves me with nothing to say. Sheesh. [Smiles] Thank you for the compliment, though!


onduril – I am so envious. You’re writing from Vienna? I wanna go, too. Have a glass of wine for me. [puts on brave smile while grumbling that Onduril could have made room for one more…]


Utopia – I thought barn dances were part of the Wild West. I guess they had to originate somewhere. You may have Hermione’s ball dress if Lucius hasn’t torn it. He’s heck on her clothes. I’m sure he didn’t tear her jewelry, but Hermione might give you a tussle there. I read Anita Blake's first, “Guilty Pleasures”. It was good, but a bit too scary for me. I’m allergic to graphically written scenes. I can write them, I just can’t read them. I wonder if Stephen King has the same quirk? Clotheswhore! Great description of Lucius!

Now, now. No puppydog eyes for a wand duel. (Because I don’t have one. Feel free…) And Lucius did mark his territory at the ball. It was just lucky he didn’t do THAT doggy style.

Lucius cast a contraceptive charm in chapter 23 which I admit I’ve assumed was permanent until revoked. Can you put it under fanwank and take it as read? 12/10 – I done good.


LadyVoldemort87 – Hermione’s place as the little, delicate flower chafes her. Lucius probably gets the brunt of her displeasure. You can make Lucius do anything you want. And you have, if I’m reading your stories correctly LOL. Obviously, Lucius is my favorite also – oh yeah.


jw – Intriguing questions. The time travel is convoluted, to say the least. You shouldn’t scare yourself. Deep breaths! That’s right. Would I scare you? I hope you like the next chapter.

After the ball...

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Chapter Thirty-Two

The Red Shoes



“I’m sorry but that red dress is making me wild.”

Lucius aimed his wand at Hermione and she ran away from him around to the other side of the bed, laughing, “Not the shoes, not the shoes!”

“What? Why?” Lucius zapped her and her dress flew off, landing on the slipper chair. Hermione was left standing in her diamonds, stockings, pantalettes and red shoes.

She shimmied out of her disgusting bloomers to Lucius’ vast approval and pointed the wand down at her feet. He couldn’t see what she was doing, except that her stockings looked to disappear. Hermione took the tiara off and removed all the rest of the jewelry, setting the pieces on the bedside table, then walked back around the bed to show Lucius she had transfigured her stockings into short, thin cuffed, ankle socks which she wore with her red shoes.

“See? I’m Dorothy.”

“Dearling, her name was Dolores and you definitely are NOT Dolores. That woman had to be the ugliest female on two legs.”

“Not Dolores Umbridge, Lucius. Yuck! I’m Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz.” Hermione began to sing, “I’m off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz,” and she danced around the room starkers with her tiny red shoes and socks as Lucius looked on, a gathering storm on his face.

“You’ll find he is a whiz of a Wiz if ever a Wiz there was. If ever, oh ever, a Wiz there was, the Wizard of Oz is one be - oof! Lucius!”

Lucius stepped into her path and lowered his shoulder into her midriff, standing and slinging her, bottom up, over his shoulder, “You’re not singing about any other wizard in my bedroom, dancing naked and taunting me!” Four ringing spanks rained down on her unprotected derriere. “And you will not be going to see any other wizard at all, much less dressed like that. You must think I’m the most complacent husband in the universe.” Several more spanks lit on Hermione’s rounded rump.

“Ow, ow, ow, Luuucius!” Hermione was laughing so hard and wincing from the indelicate smacks on her butt, she couldn’t explain his misunderstanding. “Sweetheart, it’s – ow, ow, - if you’d just let me – ow – explain,” she tried to talk while having her diaphragm jiggled as her husband walked her upside down over to the bed, spanking as he went.

Three additional firm smacks later, Hermione was tossed onto the bed and lay there giggling as Lucius divested himself of his evening clothes in record time.

“Are you going to take those shoes off?” One honey-colored eyebrow went up as a huffy husband eyed the footwear and socks still attached to his provoking little mate.

“As I’ve already been spanked for wearing them, I believe I’ll keep them on,” Hermione grinned, hugely entertained by her irate spouse’s unexpected and unnecessary jealousy.

“As you wish,” Lucius kneeled on the bed, lifted his wife’s legs in the air and propped one ankle on either side of his head with a red shoe over each shoulder. He leaned up over her with his arms on the outsides of her thighs trapping them so she couldn’t take her legs down from his shoulders.

Hermione was surprised at the unusual position, not sure what he was going to do until it became quite apparent he was in exactly the position he wanted. She felt a tentative nudge as Lucius found his target, then one hot surge of male ultimatum and Hermione was suddenly learning that perhaps twisting her wizard’s tail just before bedtime wasn’t the smartest thing she could have done.

He tensed his butt muscles and rammed his tool into Hermione as though he were cleaning a rifle barrel, jerking himself back out and ramming in again. “Now, I will talk and you will listen. I’ve been patient – slam - and as kind – slam - as I know how to be with you. You dare to say – slam - you’re going to another – slam - wizard? First you frightened me to death when you went missing from our tenement room.” – slam, slam, slam. He shoved himself in once more for good measure, hissing with the sensation of tight womanly flesh squeezing the life out of his penis.

Hermione tried to move his shoulders, having no luck prying him off her, “I didn’t do anything. They came out of the wall. Why are you blaming me?” Another surge into her sopping channel proved to both of them that Lucius was doing exactly what they both wanted and she stubbornly refused to admit. “That was weeks ago. Why are you blowing up now?”

“I said, BE SILENT, kitten, or I won’t be responsible for your continued good health. Slam. Then you tortured me and kept me at arm’s length and basically turned me into a milksop.”

Milksop? The term sifted into their brains, letting them both know Lucius felt he was ineffectual and weak.

Her nickname, kitten, jumping off his lips as he drove into her in escalating extremis made her pause infinitesimally. He hadn’t used it much after she had complained about his unilateral dubbing of her with that ridiculous appellation. She had secretly mourned him accepting her ungracious denouncement of his intimate name for her even though she had accepted the appellation later. He wouldn’t have called her that tonight unless he was really just aroused and not truly angry with her. Well, she mentally hedged, maybe a little angry, but not angry enough to damage her. His forceful thrusts were actually making her swirl with a rising lust of her own.

Hermione shook her head, trying to concentrate and attempting to dislodge his fingers now fastened tightly through her curls. How was she to…oh, sweet Hecate, that felt good… explain the stupid mistake he was laboring under if she wasn’t allowed to speak? She couldn’t gain any leverage with her legs over his shoulders and only tried once gently to push his chest back from her. How was she to stop a runaway, rabidly aroused wizard in a rage? Did she even want to? This new Lucius was supremely hypnotic with his mastery and force. Perhaps even…jealousy.

She wasn’t frightened, but she was terribly worried about his reaction when he learned she’d only been singing a Muggle song. She never wanted him to be hurt in any way, and certainly not be embarrassed by his treatment of her because of her heedless playfulness. It hadn’t occurred to her that he would think the Wizard of Oz was anything but a song. Her Muggleborn background had never tripped her up so badly before.

Hermione chewing her lower lip was the only cue Lucius had that she was obeying him. Good! He was in charge here. Lucius held her face still so he could berate her eye to eye with all the whirlwind emotions roaring through him. He’d held his temper in for days, losing bits of it at every small disgruntlement, every time she needled him, wanting her to care, thinking she finally did, then this… this damned wizard of Auds. Had she met him at the ball?

It was the final slight to his bruised ego and he snapped altogether, releasing the pent up desires and urges that had been building from the moment they’d fallen onto that lonely grass knoll in the darkness when the Veil had deposited them there. So far, all the sex had been slow and sensual, not a fast, hard, no holds barred fuck in the bunch. Now, by Hades, he was going to have sex the way he wanted. He was going to try his damnedest to ream any other wizard out of her mind and heart.

He knew in some remote part of his mind that it wasn’t her fault she’d been surrounded by other wizards all evening – many of them younger, closer to her age. He also knew later he would be shocked at his behavior, but for now he was helpless to stop his sensual assault on his wife. He acknowledged to himself he was wildly insecure about her feelings. They had progressed sexually, but he was still unsure of her feelings for him romantically. He worried that he was older and perhaps she didn’t see him as her vision of an ideal husband.

Although Lucius knew he had a reputation for an acerbic personality, his temper usually wasn’t tripped by his political responsibilities. No, his temper was tied much more to personal aggravations, as both his son and his ex-wife knew. And now Hermione knew it, too.

His years of incarceration, his discovery that his family was missing, his near annihilation from the sheep as he’d searched for his loved ones, that harrowing, narrow escape from those slavering hounds in the Department of Mysteries, and Hermione’s disappearance had all contributed to the unraveling of a male temper that had never been known for its forbearance anyway. Having his wife, his beautiful wife, enjoying herself all evening with numerous other wizards, then singing about going off with yet another one had finally broken his control.

Now Hermione was reaping those whirlwind emotions in the most carnal way possible, exercising Lucius’ escalating, all but obsessive need to conquer her in the most primitive way there was, sexually and physically proving he was master, he commanded, he held sway over his female. He demanded that she acknowledge it to him by taking all of him into her as often and as fiercely as he desired. He drew back, clenched his butt muscles once again and drove up into his wife’s wet interior with one word repeated with each thrust, “Mine!”

“Lucius,” Hermione sucked in her lower lip in apparent distress, tears standing in her drenched brown eyes. It wasn’t agony, however, so much as her worry and the sensation of unbearable, lascivious shivering as she helplessly submitted to a wizard bent on dragging her body into his sensual, erotic world, a world inhabited by just the two of them as their bodies slammed together uninhibitedly. “Lucius,” she whispered again as she began clutching his shoulders instead of trying to shove him away.

Lucius knew instantly when his little witch switched from fighting him with her spurious disapproval and pretenses of indifference to urging him on and he ratcheted his assault up, bending to her swollen, rosy lips and invading her mouth with his tongue to further establish his supremacy as her lover.

Having Lucius’ body thrusting into both intimate parts of her tipped Hermione into a frenzy of want as any desire to resist or explain came to an abrupt end and she was presented with a strong, virile male putting his mark on her inside and out.

Hermione’s lord and master suddenly changed his technique and started sucking her own tongue into his mouth as his penetration changed also, becoming more seductive and sensuous. Hot and hard was good – slow and deep fed something he almost didn’t want to feel for this feminine bundle under him.

Lucius’ hands were busy roaming over Hermione’s lifted hips as he rhythmically pressed her down into the mattress with his butt muscles, then his fingers found their way into her tumbled curls again, kneading her scalp as she moaned in appreciation. He slipped his palms down from her hair, covering both of her breasts warmly and filling his fingers with soft, giving flesh surmounted by hard little points. The reluctantly entranced wizard let her legs slide down to his waist and she kicked off her heels, wrapping her ankles around his back and holding onto him as her only safe place in the world.

“Yours, Lucius, only yours,” Hermione whispered before her husband’s tongue silenced her again, this time with a soft, seductive melding of his lips to hers as he invaded her mouth, letting her suck on his tongue and wrapping his own around hers.

Finally he pulled a millimeter away and murmured, “Forgive me, kitten.” The deep, hard surges had softened to their more usual intense, slow, submerging into each other.

“I liked it, Lucius. A lot,” she smiled into his pale gray eyes, caught as always by his male beauty. “More?”

He half-smiled back, not sure he was hearing correctly, “You mean hard again?”

“Please,” she relaxed under his heavy weight, demonstrating her acquiescence as she lifted her arms to circle his neck as though ready to be ridden. “I want to be…fucked.”

Lucius drew his body out of hers just to her warm, moist entrance and groaned, “with the greatest of pleasure,” before slicing into her with a powerful drive that bucked her small frame nearly straight up off the bed. He felt her ankles cross more firmly at the back of his waist and set himself to bringing her some of his best, making each strong, vibrant, drugging thrust press fiercely deep then leave, only to slam home again. He lost himself in the constricting heat of her, measuring his full length with each separate breach until neither of them had the slightest idea where one ended and the other began, nor cared.

Sighs and moans mixed in air redolent of the scent of two lovers intent only on each other, wanting, needing, desiring only each other. Lucius’ battered heart eased at her acceptance of his physical power in bed. He had held himself too tightly trying to please her; his inevitable eruption brought them both bliss.

He knew now he was falling in love with her, but he was not nearly ready to put his heart on the line to be rejected. He would enjoy whatever sexual adventures she was willing to bestow on him while reserving his feelings for her to himself yet awhile. Lucius rammed home, again and again, the sound of their bodies clashing in an erotic beat all its own.

Hermione was in a fog of lust, her husband’s forceful surges bringing her higher and higher, his scent, his potent strength, his pure ascendancy over her all combining to make her feel so dainty and dominated yet secure and cherished she’d never felt anything like it.

Her body was tightening with her arousal, the confident possession he brought to her, claiming her as his right, was sweeping her toward an orgasmic cliff unlike any other. Her mind had shut down, her body in total control and without warning Hermione’s peak was upon her; she clutched Lucius’ biceps and her rising scream split the air. Her woman’s niche convulsed, gripping him violently with her climax as her curly head tossed from side to side with the glorious agony of it all.

His wife’s sudden surrender to her climax caught his rigid member in her velvet-covered vise, contracting on him so tightly it was squeezing him into his own ecstatic agony.

“Kitten,” he moaned so low she barely heard him, her own senses distracted by her upwelling of blind emotion. Lucius’ mind was so scattered he couldn’t decide if he was feeling exquisite pain or excruciating pleasure as he was squeezed almost cruelly, albeit unknowingly, by his petite wife’s channel. He rode out her spasms until they finally lessened and the blood flowed forcefully back into his extremity. Lucius resumed his pace, going faster but more shallowly, quickly driving himself over the edge into his own slice of heaven, a deep-throated bellow his answer to her scream.

Lucius didn’t even disengage from his wife before slowly sliding down over her into a satiated, crumpled heap. Hermione merely wrapped her arms tightly around his chest and clung to him, falling asleep so quickly under the soporific lime and Lucius scent she didn’t notice his weight, just the overwhelming comfort of his closeness. He gently tried to pry her arms from around him, but couldn’t dislodge her and gave up, falling into a sound sleep on top of his determined sprite.

An hour later, Lucius managed to drag himself up from the drugging depths of sleep long enough to reposition a clinging Hermione up against his side, then he disappeared again into his own sweet oblivion.


tbc...


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Whoever yelled, "We want lemons" needs to write a review. All others happily accepted. Anyone want to de-lurk? I'd love to hear from you. The rating link is down on the right, too. Thanks!

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