The Wedding - COMPLETE
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
112,750
Reviews:
1067
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
3
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
112,750
Reviews:
1067
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
3
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Biscuit Affair
_________________________________________________________________________
Updated 5-20-07
To answer some questions:
kristi I won't be going into the life of Lucius' and Hermione's child in this story. It's an idea for a future story, though. I talked about their children in the Epilogue of "A New Order of Wizards" and really enjoyed writing that so I may think that idea over.
sheherazade I haven't the slightest idea where the beach resort is. I don't live anywhere near England and didn't do any research. I'm from California where beaches are as common as Pansy Parkinson's reputation so describing one was easy. So wherever you live, I'm sure my beach resort is that one.
Lustblood You called it. The next chapter explores Hermione's craving for sweets. Remember, Lucius can't go to the store alone, he's stuck on the estate unless he accompanies Hermione, so he'd have to send an owl for the pickles and ice cream and I don't think the poor bird would be up to it.
I hope you all like this next chapter.
_________________________________________________________________________
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Biscuit Affair
Hermione’s pregnancy progressed apace, with Lucius fiercely guarding her health and safety, although he tried for the sake of amity to be more subtle about his protection than previously. He recognized that it didn’t do any good for him to needlessly upset his wife, but he was driven to be in charge somehow - it was an ingrained part of his Slytherin nature, just as achieving his ends with any method that worked owed itself to the Slytherin in him also.
Lucius had gained premier status as a Death Eater by his attention to detail and by retaining control of all the important elements of any enterprise he embarked upon. However, his innate desire to manipulate others was a propensity he had to keep a strong damper on in dealing with an equally headstrong wife who didn’t mince matters on her opinion of his attempts to ‘guide’ her pregnancy.
It made Hermione’s life a bit more complicated to accept (as much as she could allow) Lucius’ strict, not to say dictatorial, protocols for her health, while trying to enjoy her altered physiology for itself. She didn’t want to come to blows with him about some of the trivia he impressed on her routines, because she knew he was trying to let go of what she styled his ‘Attila the Hun’ hints, but he really couldn’t help himself. It was like asking her to twiddle her thumbs and be silent if she knew the answer to a question someone asked. Her faults could be as glaring as his, and he rarely hesitated to put her back in her place when she transgressed with her occasional heedlessness or insensitivity. She would probably never hear the end of the elves’ vacation rota.
But she knew his behavior stemmed from his unspoken feelings for her, and so because she loved him, she acquiesced to the majority of his ‘requests’, only taking a stand if she absolutely wouldn’t bend on a particular issue, like staying away from Crookshanks. She had to stay clear of his litterbox – the doctor had expressly said so – but she didn’t have to stay away from the cat. She solved the problem by opening another little cat door into a small, unused bathroom down the hall and keeping the litterbox there, but Lucius grumbled about the proliferation of cat doors and where would it end?
Unfortunately, another contretemps blew up when Hermione was in the middle of her sixth month of pregnancy and Crookshanks became the unwitting betrayer of his mistress. Early one morning while Hermione was sleeping in, Lucius found an odd crumbly trail leading out from the little cat door of his ex-wife’s bedroom until it dissipated a few feet down the hall nearly in front of his own bedroom. Lucius didn’t like the messy debris and followed it back, opening the door to Crookshank’s new lair to ascertain what had caused the detritus. Looking inside he immediately found the source of the crumbs. An open bag of biscuits lay on the floor obviously pawed through by the cat who had, from the looks of the remains, enjoyed the macaroons the least.
Lucius searched the room for biscuits and found two other bags. He was annoyed but even more hurt that Hermione had been untrustworthy about the desserts. He apparated to his study and thought about her duplicity. He was confronted with a disagreeable behavior from a spouse he wanted to trust, but not only that, she was doing something that he felt might endanger their child. Lucius had cleaned up the opened, crumbly bag and trail, but Hermione was going to know he was aware of her secret stash when she looked for the biscuit bags and found nothing.
What did he do now? Lucius was torn, trying to merge her betrayal with his need to protect her. He needed to talk to her, to try to discover why she would do such a thing to their child, to him.
Hermione slowly woke and stretched her arms toward the ceiling, feeling rested and ready for the day. The bed was empty and cold on Lucius’ side, but he rarely stayed asleep as long she did lately. She wasn’t nearly so cold any more thanks to her pregnancy; she relished her new warmth but still fell asleep faster if she was tucked up against her husband’s solid chest. She slid naked down from the bed only to fetch up short at seeing Lucius sitting in the comfy chair by their bed. “Lucius, why are you sitting there? Are you checking on me now while I sleep?” she joked, but saw he was in some kind of strange mood.
“Perhaps I’ll need to,” he said, tonelessly.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione’s sunny mood evaporated as she came to stand next to her husband’s knees. This was unpleasantly reminiscent of her spanking and it made her nervous, even though she assumed she was safe for now because of the baby.
“Did you know that Crookshanks doesn’t much like macaroons?” Lucius asked somberly, for once not paying attention to his wife’s nudity.
“What? How do you know? Are you feeding him biscuits?” Hermione was at a loss to understand what appeared to be a nonsequitor.
“No, but you are. I’m the bearer of bad news, I’m afraid. One of your bags of biscuits has been irretrievably mauled by your cat. The crumbs were spread on the hall runner from Crookshank’s cat door nearly all the way to our bedroom door. A few of the macaroons made it safely through, though. They mostly only have a few tentative kitty bites if you care to have those back.” With one ironic eyebrow lifted, Lucius studied his wife’s face as what he was saying sank in.
“Ah, so I’m hanged, drawn and quartered, eh, Master?” Hermione wasn’t particularly bothered that Lucius had learned about her hidden stash of biscuits. She was more annoyed at being called to account like a child.
“Please explain to me why you feel it’s acceptable to fill yourself with excess sugar when you know the doctor warned against it?” Lucius was now stirred to greater anger at his wife’s apparent nonchalance toward something he considered heinous; he stood up, towering over her. “And, to my mind even worse, why were you hiding it from me? That says to me that you know it’s wrong.”
Hermione shook her head at his assumption, “Wrong!” she replied. “I don’t know any such thing. I was just avoiding another totally unnecessary lecture on the evils of desserts, too many of which you have delivered already. The biscuits won’t upset me nearly as much as trying to defend having them in the face of your censorious attitude.
“You have a world-class analytical mind,” she said, exasperated, “but you always seem to leave my intelligence out of the equation when you have to depend on me for anything. Your trust in me is touching, truly it is.” Hermione let off a big sigh, and stood with her hands on her hips, unintentionally showcasing her expanding belly as she glared up at her irate spouse in adorable bellicosity.
Lucius scrambled to retrieve the advantage of his righteous anger, but he couldn’t completely concentrate on the discussion while he was also worried Hermione might get cold, so he went to the closet, got her robe and tossed it around her while he ranted, “Hidden biscuits, eating excess sugar, endangering our baby – those don’t equate with intelligence to me.” Lucius folded his arms across his chest in defense of his argument. A child of his own far surpassed in importance any Death Eater schemes he’d ever organized or planned for; he just couldn’t let this go.
“I suppose the fact that you haven’t already hexed me into suspended animation until the baby’s born speaks a little for your slight trust in me,” Hermione mused, tapping her finger on her chin meditatively. As Lucius opened his mouth, Hermione reached up and touched her finger over his lips to shush him and rushed on, “And don’t make the mistake of saying you’d thought about it, even if you did. Right now you’re still sounding like a thoughtful, if terribly misguided husband. Don’t tip the scales into unbalanced, maniacal husband.”
Lucius closed his mouth and primmed up his lips in irritation.
“I think you can clear up this fiasco with a more thorough perusal of the confiscated biscuit bags in question, after which I will be accepting apologies all afternoon. Thank you.” Hermione nodded her head graciously and stalked off into their bathroom to run a lovely bubble bath and cool her temper.
Lucius watched her saunter away with a mixture of shock and indignation, but he retrieved the bags of biscuits from behind the comfy chair and looked at them carefully, expecting to be disappointed in Hermione’s character, which made it even more downheartening to discover why she’d behaved as she had. On the backs of the bags, writ in easily discernible letters was the word, ‘SUGARLESS’. Lucius sat down, his heartbeat pounding heavily with more disappointment – in himself. Hermione was right – he didn’t trust her and it was his behavior that had driven her enjoyment of her own life’s pleasures underground. The biscuits were a Muggle brand – he’s seen that at a glance - but how was he to know Muggles made their biscuits without sugar? That had never crossed his mind as a possibility.
Had he alienated her completely this time? She said she would be accepting apologies – that meant she wasn’t giving up on him, didn’t it? Trusting her was becoming the biggest obstacle to overcome in his life. He wasn’t making very good progress, if today was an example and she might get tired of him before he found his way through to her. Did he want to try? The very fact that he was trying to take such care of her answered that question. Lucius followed his wife into the bathroom.
_________________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________________
A/N: I see there are a lot of Draco fans. I can't say that Draco is going to be seen much in this story, but I'll stuff him into a chapter later on to sooth you draconian Draconians. I must admit, as a writer, I don't have a sense of Draco as a character ( "A New Order of Wizards" notwithstanding.) So that puts me off writing him into my stories too much.
So - I wonder how Lucius' foot tastes, being stuck in his mouth as it is. He's going to have to apologize but he's not very good at it, being pretty much a novice. He's only had to apologize to the Dark Lord and he was always insincere (that's our Lucius - arrogant and snobbish - and yummy.)
Oh, yes, I need to know if the word knickers applies only to women's underwear and not men's. nonentity mentioned it in a review and inquiring California minds need to know. We don't call any underwear knickers here.
Your reviews mean as much to me as an update means to you, maybe more, me being a dedicated review trollop. So give me a thrill...?
.
.
Updated 5-20-07
To answer some questions:
kristi I won't be going into the life of Lucius' and Hermione's child in this story. It's an idea for a future story, though. I talked about their children in the Epilogue of "A New Order of Wizards" and really enjoyed writing that so I may think that idea over.
sheherazade I haven't the slightest idea where the beach resort is. I don't live anywhere near England and didn't do any research. I'm from California where beaches are as common as Pansy Parkinson's reputation so describing one was easy. So wherever you live, I'm sure my beach resort is that one.
Lustblood You called it. The next chapter explores Hermione's craving for sweets. Remember, Lucius can't go to the store alone, he's stuck on the estate unless he accompanies Hermione, so he'd have to send an owl for the pickles and ice cream and I don't think the poor bird would be up to it.
I hope you all like this next chapter.
_________________________________________________________________________
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Biscuit Affair
Hermione’s pregnancy progressed apace, with Lucius fiercely guarding her health and safety, although he tried for the sake of amity to be more subtle about his protection than previously. He recognized that it didn’t do any good for him to needlessly upset his wife, but he was driven to be in charge somehow - it was an ingrained part of his Slytherin nature, just as achieving his ends with any method that worked owed itself to the Slytherin in him also.
Lucius had gained premier status as a Death Eater by his attention to detail and by retaining control of all the important elements of any enterprise he embarked upon. However, his innate desire to manipulate others was a propensity he had to keep a strong damper on in dealing with an equally headstrong wife who didn’t mince matters on her opinion of his attempts to ‘guide’ her pregnancy.
It made Hermione’s life a bit more complicated to accept (as much as she could allow) Lucius’ strict, not to say dictatorial, protocols for her health, while trying to enjoy her altered physiology for itself. She didn’t want to come to blows with him about some of the trivia he impressed on her routines, because she knew he was trying to let go of what she styled his ‘Attila the Hun’ hints, but he really couldn’t help himself. It was like asking her to twiddle her thumbs and be silent if she knew the answer to a question someone asked. Her faults could be as glaring as his, and he rarely hesitated to put her back in her place when she transgressed with her occasional heedlessness or insensitivity. She would probably never hear the end of the elves’ vacation rota.
But she knew his behavior stemmed from his unspoken feelings for her, and so because she loved him, she acquiesced to the majority of his ‘requests’, only taking a stand if she absolutely wouldn’t bend on a particular issue, like staying away from Crookshanks. She had to stay clear of his litterbox – the doctor had expressly said so – but she didn’t have to stay away from the cat. She solved the problem by opening another little cat door into a small, unused bathroom down the hall and keeping the litterbox there, but Lucius grumbled about the proliferation of cat doors and where would it end?
Unfortunately, another contretemps blew up when Hermione was in the middle of her sixth month of pregnancy and Crookshanks became the unwitting betrayer of his mistress. Early one morning while Hermione was sleeping in, Lucius found an odd crumbly trail leading out from the little cat door of his ex-wife’s bedroom until it dissipated a few feet down the hall nearly in front of his own bedroom. Lucius didn’t like the messy debris and followed it back, opening the door to Crookshank’s new lair to ascertain what had caused the detritus. Looking inside he immediately found the source of the crumbs. An open bag of biscuits lay on the floor obviously pawed through by the cat who had, from the looks of the remains, enjoyed the macaroons the least.
Lucius searched the room for biscuits and found two other bags. He was annoyed but even more hurt that Hermione had been untrustworthy about the desserts. He apparated to his study and thought about her duplicity. He was confronted with a disagreeable behavior from a spouse he wanted to trust, but not only that, she was doing something that he felt might endanger their child. Lucius had cleaned up the opened, crumbly bag and trail, but Hermione was going to know he was aware of her secret stash when she looked for the biscuit bags and found nothing.
What did he do now? Lucius was torn, trying to merge her betrayal with his need to protect her. He needed to talk to her, to try to discover why she would do such a thing to their child, to him.
Hermione slowly woke and stretched her arms toward the ceiling, feeling rested and ready for the day. The bed was empty and cold on Lucius’ side, but he rarely stayed asleep as long she did lately. She wasn’t nearly so cold any more thanks to her pregnancy; she relished her new warmth but still fell asleep faster if she was tucked up against her husband’s solid chest. She slid naked down from the bed only to fetch up short at seeing Lucius sitting in the comfy chair by their bed. “Lucius, why are you sitting there? Are you checking on me now while I sleep?” she joked, but saw he was in some kind of strange mood.
“Perhaps I’ll need to,” he said, tonelessly.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione’s sunny mood evaporated as she came to stand next to her husband’s knees. This was unpleasantly reminiscent of her spanking and it made her nervous, even though she assumed she was safe for now because of the baby.
“Did you know that Crookshanks doesn’t much like macaroons?” Lucius asked somberly, for once not paying attention to his wife’s nudity.
“What? How do you know? Are you feeding him biscuits?” Hermione was at a loss to understand what appeared to be a nonsequitor.
“No, but you are. I’m the bearer of bad news, I’m afraid. One of your bags of biscuits has been irretrievably mauled by your cat. The crumbs were spread on the hall runner from Crookshank’s cat door nearly all the way to our bedroom door. A few of the macaroons made it safely through, though. They mostly only have a few tentative kitty bites if you care to have those back.” With one ironic eyebrow lifted, Lucius studied his wife’s face as what he was saying sank in.
“Ah, so I’m hanged, drawn and quartered, eh, Master?” Hermione wasn’t particularly bothered that Lucius had learned about her hidden stash of biscuits. She was more annoyed at being called to account like a child.
“Please explain to me why you feel it’s acceptable to fill yourself with excess sugar when you know the doctor warned against it?” Lucius was now stirred to greater anger at his wife’s apparent nonchalance toward something he considered heinous; he stood up, towering over her. “And, to my mind even worse, why were you hiding it from me? That says to me that you know it’s wrong.”
Hermione shook her head at his assumption, “Wrong!” she replied. “I don’t know any such thing. I was just avoiding another totally unnecessary lecture on the evils of desserts, too many of which you have delivered already. The biscuits won’t upset me nearly as much as trying to defend having them in the face of your censorious attitude.
“You have a world-class analytical mind,” she said, exasperated, “but you always seem to leave my intelligence out of the equation when you have to depend on me for anything. Your trust in me is touching, truly it is.” Hermione let off a big sigh, and stood with her hands on her hips, unintentionally showcasing her expanding belly as she glared up at her irate spouse in adorable bellicosity.
Lucius scrambled to retrieve the advantage of his righteous anger, but he couldn’t completely concentrate on the discussion while he was also worried Hermione might get cold, so he went to the closet, got her robe and tossed it around her while he ranted, “Hidden biscuits, eating excess sugar, endangering our baby – those don’t equate with intelligence to me.” Lucius folded his arms across his chest in defense of his argument. A child of his own far surpassed in importance any Death Eater schemes he’d ever organized or planned for; he just couldn’t let this go.
“I suppose the fact that you haven’t already hexed me into suspended animation until the baby’s born speaks a little for your slight trust in me,” Hermione mused, tapping her finger on her chin meditatively. As Lucius opened his mouth, Hermione reached up and touched her finger over his lips to shush him and rushed on, “And don’t make the mistake of saying you’d thought about it, even if you did. Right now you’re still sounding like a thoughtful, if terribly misguided husband. Don’t tip the scales into unbalanced, maniacal husband.”
Lucius closed his mouth and primmed up his lips in irritation.
“I think you can clear up this fiasco with a more thorough perusal of the confiscated biscuit bags in question, after which I will be accepting apologies all afternoon. Thank you.” Hermione nodded her head graciously and stalked off into their bathroom to run a lovely bubble bath and cool her temper.
Lucius watched her saunter away with a mixture of shock and indignation, but he retrieved the bags of biscuits from behind the comfy chair and looked at them carefully, expecting to be disappointed in Hermione’s character, which made it even more downheartening to discover why she’d behaved as she had. On the backs of the bags, writ in easily discernible letters was the word, ‘SUGARLESS’. Lucius sat down, his heartbeat pounding heavily with more disappointment – in himself. Hermione was right – he didn’t trust her and it was his behavior that had driven her enjoyment of her own life’s pleasures underground. The biscuits were a Muggle brand – he’s seen that at a glance - but how was he to know Muggles made their biscuits without sugar? That had never crossed his mind as a possibility.
Had he alienated her completely this time? She said she would be accepting apologies – that meant she wasn’t giving up on him, didn’t it? Trusting her was becoming the biggest obstacle to overcome in his life. He wasn’t making very good progress, if today was an example and she might get tired of him before he found his way through to her. Did he want to try? The very fact that he was trying to take such care of her answered that question. Lucius followed his wife into the bathroom.
_________________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________________
A/N: I see there are a lot of Draco fans. I can't say that Draco is going to be seen much in this story, but I'll stuff him into a chapter later on to sooth you draconian Draconians. I must admit, as a writer, I don't have a sense of Draco as a character ( "A New Order of Wizards" notwithstanding.) So that puts me off writing him into my stories too much.
So - I wonder how Lucius' foot tastes, being stuck in his mouth as it is. He's going to have to apologize but he's not very good at it, being pretty much a novice. He's only had to apologize to the Dark Lord and he was always insincere (that's our Lucius - arrogant and snobbish - and yummy.)
Oh, yes, I need to know if the word knickers applies only to women's underwear and not men's. nonentity mentioned it in a review and inquiring California minds need to know. We don't call any underwear knickers here.
Your reviews mean as much to me as an update means to you, maybe more, me being a dedicated review trollop. So give me a thrill...?
.
.