The Wedding - COMPLETE

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Updated 6-7-07

I loved reading my reviews (as usual). They're so much appreciated and they definitely affect my story. Sometimes a comment will find its way into the next chapter as a new and different slant to what I had originally intended. Oh, the polishing that goes on.

LeahLove Thank you for the info on Ginny's eye color. I changed Ginny's eyes to brown throughout my story. I found a great pic of Snape with Lily that I reroute in my head to him and Ginny. Her eyes are green - pooh - but I don't care. I'm obviously not a purist if I think Lucius is redeemable.

http://www.misplaced.co.uk/uglybusiness/1024/ssle1024.jpg

Sheherazade Thanks for the thought of Jason Isaacs showing up on my doorstep for my birthday, but you can keep the leather pants. Him wearing a just smile is all I need. Yes, I own "The State Within", but haven't watched it yet. I want to see it with my husband and he's proving elusive (darn baseball games on TV).

Elly Submissive Snape? I believe that's an oxymoron. I agree he isn't one.

And for those of you who love Snape's voice, here's a URL for listening to Alan Rickman reading Shakespeare's Sonnet #130. It takes about a minute. Excuse me while I wipe the drool away.

http://yacht.zamok.net/DV/Potter/Posters/Rickman/Sound/RickmanSonnet130.mp3


Nothing kinky in this chapter (for the conservatives among us...)

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Chapter Thirty-Nine

Christmas for the Malfoys

The Malfoys were due at Hermione’s parents’ home in the afternoon on Christmas, but the morning they had to themselves. Hermione woke up first and gazed over at her sleeping husband. She liked to see his face when it wasn’t stressed, or angry, or exasperated, or dictatorial, or pigheaded, or even exuding one of his superbastard smiles. In repose he was the epitome of beauty to her, only surpassed by one of his rare, genuine, happy smiles, because then she got to see his sexy eyes, too.


Those sexy eyes woke just then and found his personal pixie staring down at him, her eyes soft with emotion. “Hermione, why were you gawking at me while I slept?” He rose, embarrassed, to a sitting position allowing her gawking to find other lovely bits to gaze at, most notably a fine, sculpted chest.


“I just love looking at you,” she sighed and Lucius raised a derogatory eyebrow. And,” she pointed to his face, “that’s exactly why I choose to do it when you’re asleep.” “The rest of the day, you’re always in one of your moods. That’s your eyebrow mood.”


“I don’t have an eyebrow mood!” Lucius tried to lower his unruly eyebrow, and testily crossed his arms in irritation, losing Hermione her view of his chest.


“Oh, you’ve got more than that. You have a wrinkly nose mood, a twisty lip mood, a raised chin mood, a smarmy smile mood, and your total frown mood, among others, and sometimes in combinations. They’re all on display at various times every day. Hah, see?” Hermione crowed her exoneration, “There goes the twisty lip mood. Is it any wonder I like to watch you sleep?” She sighed again, “You’re just so beautiful when you aren’t disturbed with me in some manner.”


“Do I make you unhappy, precious?” Lucius’ chest began to hurt at his wife’s observations.


“Oh, not at all,” Hermione blithely replied, confusing her dark wizard completely, but his hurt slid away. “All your moods make each day an exciting adventure – I did mention the problem about watching grass growing, didn’t I? Your many moods make me very happy. I suspect I’d be bored if you weren’t the devious, charming, domineering person you are. Having lived through so many cataclysmic events in my life already, if I had to settle down to a humdrum existence with someone who wasn’t clever enough to offer me a challenge in life, I’d not be happy. I hope that makes sense to you?”


“I guess…so it means you only like to watch me when I sleep because you like the look of my face when it’s tranquil, not animated? But you’d rather have me in a bad mood when I’m awake for entertainment purposes?” He realized he was now sporting his twisty lip mood again and tried to make his face neutral.


“Ah...uhm… not exactly. You see, I’m also more likely to lose any arguments with you if you ever discovered the power of your tranquil face, because I’d stop thinking and just kind of stare at you in fatuous stupefaction, leaving the field to you. Thank goodness you can’t achieve it when you’re awake.” Hermione clapped her hands to end the discussion, “Well, enough of that. It’s Christmas Day, and as long as you’re awake now, let’s go open PRESENTS!” Hermione rolled carefully out of bed and hurried to the closet to find her robe and slippers.


Lucius stared dumbfounded at his puzzling wife. He shook his head, but decided to try practicing a tranquil look in the mirror when she wasn’t around. (Lucius didn’t know it, but his eyebrow mood was back.) He wondered if a tranquil look had to include closed eyes. That was going to be difficult to work on if he couldn’t see himself. Lucius got out of bed, changed mental gears, and started organizing their day. If she thought she was going to skip a nourishing breakfast for the presents, she was going to be terribly disappointed.


Lucius and Hermione finished their hearty breakfast (Hermione rather slurping hers to get to the tree) and strolled down the wainscoted hallways into the main drawing room holding hands, or rather he was holding her hand – Lucius always liked to work in a bit of exercise for his precious, but he didn’t want her running heedlessly ahead from excitement.


Once they got to the drawing room, though, Lucius lost a bit of his despotic veneer. This had never been a truly happy time for him and he didn’t expect too much today, either. He was therefore agreeably surprised to see his wife dancing around like a frolicsome puppy, exuberant with the delight of opening their presents.


“Lucius, how shall we do the presents? Shall I bring you yours? Or do you want to find them yourself?” Hermione was darting between him and the tree, not sure what way to organize this new tradition in their lives, but eager to start. “We’re beginning a new tradition and I want us to have something to continue with our children. You’ll be the father, so maybe you should hand out the gifts. What do you think?”


Hermione was so excited, Lucius was concerned she would overdo things, so he said, “If you think the father should pass out the presents, then I think it’s a charming idea. I’m a father so the responsibility can safely be left in my hands, don’t you think?” Lucius also saw a place to firmly intertwine himself into her new Christmas routine and took it. He was a little astonished that his wife had made it that easy for him, but he was gratified that she would offer it to him. Now if she would only sit down. “Hermione, why don’t you settle on the sofa there and I’ll bring over the presents to you?”


“One by one, mind. So we have a chance to admire everyone’s gifts as they are opened.” Hermione sat down but jumped up again, “We should have lit some lights on the tree. I’ll just -”


“You sit down, and I’ll do the lights.” Lucius pulled out his wand and created a multicolor display of small, glowing orbs scattered all over the tree from top to bottom. He turned to Hermione and displayed his ‘total frown mood’, because Hermione hadn’t returned to the sofa. “Hermione -”


“Sheesh, Mister Spoilsport, can’t you leave off the cotton wool for a few moments?” When Lucius continued to scowl, Hermione huffed but obediently sat on the sofa again. She commanded, “Bring me the red foil one first.”


Lucius raised his chin and looked imperiously at his wife, “I beg your pardon, but I am passing out the presents, not you. Our new tradition says nothing about interfering pixies telling me which presents to choose.” Lucius turned toward the tree and deliberately took his time deciding which present to select first. He didn’t see Hermione’s smug grin at his possessive defense of his new role. She was happy to see him fully entering into his place in their family’s new customs and accepting it with so little fuss. She had been worried that he would hold himself separate from their intimate festivities with some stupid idea of it being beneath him. He really was coming along quite nicely as husband material.


When Lucius had made his selection (NOT the red foil) and turned back to his wife, she was sitting quietly with folded hands looking too obedient. He always suspected her of hidden agendas when things were going too well. But she was right about the two of them. They always seemed happier with each other when they were each trying to rule the roost, because in nearly all cases, both of them were trying to control events meant to safeguard or please or otherwise help their mate. That was an astonishing idea and Lucius wanted to explore it more when he had time, but gifts first. Hermione was starting to wiggle on the sofa, so he brought her a small gaily-wrapped package and placed it in her hands, seeing as she didn’t have much lap to work with.


“Oh, Lucius, this is from you! The little snowmen are so cute on the paper.” Hermione immediately tore the cute snowmen to shreds, finding a small elegant box inside. She looked up at her spouse in wonder.


“Well, it’s not going to open itself,” Lucius shooed her to do the honors. Hermione opened the box to find a perfect, large diamond solitaire ring inside. It was meant to match her wedding ring. “Oh, Lucius,” she wailed and reached for him.


Lucius sat down on the sofa with his wife and held her as she began crying all over his black silk robe. “If I had known you were going to cry about it, I’d have bought you something less fraught with sentiment. Are you going to cry over every gift?”


Hermione hiccupped and shook her head, “I’ll try not to, truly, Lucius. This is so swee- I mean so thoughtful. I’ll wear it forever. This means so much to me, Lucius. You mean so much to me. I love this ring. It’s beautiful.” She handed the ring to him and put out her ring finger expectantly.


Lucius slowly took the ring, his eyes never leaving hers as he lifted her hand to slide the ring on, fitting it up against her wedding ring. He pressed a kiss onto the rings and gently let go of her hand. “I suppose now we’re just a little more married.” He quickly got up and went back to the tree to select the next gift, leaving his wife with a misty grin on her face.


Lucius asked, “Am I allowed to select a gift for me to open next?”


“Of course. Fair’s fair. I could tell you which one to pick,” Hermione wheedled.


“No! Thank you.” Lucius bent down and chose a soft-looking package and took it over to the sofa, sitting down beside Hermione again. He tore open the wrappings and saw… “What are these for? Are these…jeans? They look used.” Lucius turned in consternation to his wife.


“No, silly, they aren’t used. That’s the way they’re supposed to look. I bought them so you could slide under cisterns without destroying your beloved wool trousers. And frankly, if you wore these jeans around the house, pretty soon I’d be stringing you up on the bed again. I think you’ll look absolutely sizzling hot in them.”


Hermione’s eyes got her lust look and Lucius knew she was telling him the truth, even though he thought a pair of old jeans were unlikely to inspire much more than pity in anyone.


“Put them on - I hope I got the right size – no - maybe you shouldn’t - I couldn’t be responsible for my actions and we have more presents first.” Hermione petted the jeans in his lap. “It makes me hot just thinking about you in those.”


Lucius decided the jeans must have some sort of aphrodisiacal quality to them, but he couldn’t see any magic woven into them. Oh well, whatever worked. He spied a smaller present sticking out of the back pocket of the jeans. He looked a question at his wife and she nodded, a disingenuous smile blossoming on her excited face. Lucius was a little reluctant to open the gift, thinking it might be a trap of some sort judging from that wicked smile, but he ploughed ahead, trying to trust. He opened the gift and held up a small, stretchy white piece of cloth. It looked like a pair of women’s underwear. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he said, “Very nice,” and laid it on the jeans.


Hermione saw he was perplexed and laughed, “Our beach cottage is on a private stretch of land, so I decided to buy you those. It’s your new swim suit. It’s called a speedo. I got large, but it’s going to be a close call.”


Lucius looked at his wife, then at the scrap of material and said, “Absolutely not!” He looked adamant, but he barely got to work up a good snit before Hermione changed his mind with her offer.


“I’ll wear a thong with no top if you wear that speedo.”


Lucius’ eyes narrowed on his scheming spouse as his brain ticked over the idea. His essentials would be covered – probably – and she would be on glorious display. He understood that seeing her in the thong would possibly endanger his modesty, but it was a private beach. He loved her in a thong and she knew it.


“Deal!” he agreed. He kissed Hermione and thanked her and went for the next gift. He chose another present with Hermione’s name on it and gave it to her with a smile.


Hermione tore open the paper to find a long box with nothing but a piece of parchment inside. She unwound the scroll and read: I, Lucius Malfoy give my wife, Hermione Malfoy full permission to put cat doors anywhere in the mansion she so desires (except for our bedroom and bathroom and my study). It was signed with his bold angular signature and dated Christmas Day.


Hermione clasped the parchment to her breasts, “Oh, Lucius, that’s a wonderful present! I’ll try not to make too many and only necessary ones. Crookshanks will be so delighted. Thank you!” Hermione looked like she might cry again, so Lucius quickly got up and went for another present for himself. He eyed another soft package with misgiving, but chose it anyway, bringing it back to the sofa. It contained four tee shirts, two white, one black and one dark green. “Is this more of your idea of sexy clothes for me to wear?”


Hermione looked like she was ready to jump him, “They ought to fit beautifully over that gorgeous chest of yours. Your formal shirts don’t do you justice. These are meant for me to drool over. Oh! I guess I’ve actually bought you presents for me, haven’t I? Perhaps if you think of them as your version of me in a thong and stilettos, you’ll see the presents in a better light. I’m already getting wet fantasizing about you in a tight tee shirt and jeans.”


“If you say so,” Lucius could smell the increasing arousal of his wife and as wild as the idea was, he knew she was getting turned on by the odd outfits. He’d already made a deal for the speedy thing. He supposed he could wear the jeans and tee shirts now and again, perhaps keeping them for times when he wanted sex and didn’t want to spend any time coaxing her into it. Lucius brightened at the obviously useful function he’d discovered for his new gifts.


Hermione was telling him something with her gift choices – she wanted him like he wanted her and they each had ways they liked to dress the other for maximum stimulation. Her thong and stiletto comment was spot on for him. Too bad stilettos would sink in the beach sand.


Lucius grinned as he selected his third and last gift for his wife. Hermione eagerly opened her last present, a thin, flat envelope with a hand-drawn (not very well) Christmas tree on the front. No one ever claimed Lucius was any good as an artist. She slit open the flap and pulled out two pieces of paper. She read the papers and looked at her husband with glowing eyes and started to cry again.


“Really, Hermione, please control yourself. If you’re going to bawl over every little thing, maybe this tradition isn’t such a good one to start.” Lucius was pretty sure the crying meant she liked it, but did she have to make him so uncomfortable in the process?


“This is so wonderful, Lucius. I can hardly wait. We’re going to have so much fun. I see the date is for after our baby is born, but does this mean we can go there every once in a while?” Hermione looked down at the two tickets for Salsa Night at the Muggle nightclub set for six months in the future. She and Lucius had enjoyed their first night at the beach tremendously and latin dancing had become an extreme favorite of both.


“I’m open to the occasional – occasional – evening out at the Muggle club, but not until after the baby is born, of course. I do like the latin dancing, so Salsa Nights would appeal most to me.”


“And they would appeal most to me, too.” Hermione understood that Lucius’ gift was his signal that he would give her Muggle world a try. She interpreted his gesture as his acceptance that their entire relationship could have an element of her heritage as well as his. She knew that was a major concession from her husband. He was in essence allowing Hermione to not only bring him into her world, but permitting their children to know her world as well. Those tickets were priceless to her.


“Two presents left for you, Lucius. Please, please, please, open the envelope first? For me?”


“Very well,” Lucius sat down with the small gift and carefully pried open the envelope sliding out a flat piece of parchment, which read, Box #420 Wiltshire Quidditch Stadium – owner, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius looked up at Hermione, an odd, vulnerable wonder brilliantly lighting up his icy eyes before the effulgence was quickly masked and his warm foggy color took over. “I…this…thank you, Hermione. I like Quidditch very much. “ Lucius attempted an offhand attitude as he asked, “Does this mean you’ll go with me?”


“Oh dear, it does rather look like I’ve invited myself along, doesn’t it?” Hermione twinkled at her husband chuckling good-naturedly, “I hope you don’t mind. I’m learning a lot about the subtleties of the game from you and it’s becoming really interesting to watch.”


Lucius reread the parchment again and his shoulders relaxed conveying without words his pleasure in the unexpected gift. He sighed theatrically, “I wouldn’t mind you coming along. Maybe we can make a Quidditch fan of our child, too. There will be plenty of room in that box. It’s the one we were in before, isn’t it.”


“Yes. I admit to a bit of sentimentality in picking that box, but don’t mind me,” Hermione grinned. “You know, pregnancy hormones and all. I hope you can indulge me and let me come on occasion.”


Lucius smiled quietly but his eyes glowed with gratification at his little sprite, “I don’t think that will be a problem. You are invited whenever you wish to come. Thank you for the present.” Lucius carefully put the parchment back in its envelope and put it on top of his jeans and tee shirts, running his hand over the envelope one more time.


“You have one present left, Lucius.” Hermione started wiggling on the sofa in excitement. Lucius went and got the last gift and sat again with his wife and, just to pull her tail a little, he gently shook the present, smelling it and listening to it, dragging out the moment.


“Quit teasing me, Sweety. Open it!”


“That was uncalled for,” her retired Death Eater complained. “I’ve told you innumerable times, I’m not sweet. No need to call me names.”


Lucius pinned her with a glare, but his eyes were still a warm, glowing gray so she merely repeated, “Open it!”


Lucius ripped the wrapping off his gift and almost dropped it, he was so surprised. “Is that…?”


“Do you like it? It’s just like mine, but I got you black instead of white. I thought you would like a black iPod better. I’ll show you how to draw latent electricity from the air with your wand to recharge it. If you want new songs, I’ll have to download them from my mom and dad’s computer, but otherwise you can use it all you want. Do you like it?” Hermione ran her words together in a rush, hoping he wouldn’t reject another Muggle toy that he obviously liked. He already had the black sex toy he liked very well. She decided not to tell him that she had fried four other iPods trying to work out how much electricity to transfer into her own iPod.


She knew a computer linkup on the estate would be a much greater concession and possibly Lucius wouldn’t go that far, but with wireless access, he might be seduced into another Muggle invention. If not, she could always add songs from her parents’ computer. Perhaps mixing the Magic world and the Muggle world too much wasn’t a good idea. That idea could wait, maybe forever.


“You mentioned computers before,” Lucius was examining his iPod and figuring out how to connect the tiny earpieces. “I think this is enough Muggle world for me, if you don’t mind. At least for now.” He wasn’t proof against his very own iPod, however, and he put on the earpieces and dialed up his favorite song, humming to the music. After the song was over, Lucius pulled off his earpieces, “I liked listening to the strange Muggle music while I did my calculations. It was soothing to me for some reason. I suppose in each world there are some good ideas. I’m already addicted to my vibrator.” Lucius grinned devilishly, “Especially when you’re wielding it.” He kissed Hermione, “This is a great present. Some of your presents are um, unique,” he said eyeing the speedo and jeans, “ but I think we’ll both enjoy the Quidditch box. Thank you.”


“Oh, I think we’ll both enjoy those jeans and tee shirts too,” she said with a devilish promise in her eyes. “The speedo is just for me, I admit, but my thong promise helps to ‘share the wealth’ as it were.”


Lucius readjusted his black robe to cover his visceral approval of the beach thong idea. He had chosen his gifts to show he was determined to accept his wife’s background (and her pet) as much as he could and still feel in command of his life and his marriage. She and their child were his whole world now and he was willing to bend a bit to secure them into his life.


Draco had been the only one Lucius had loved unreservedly and he suffered a constant ache over the loss of his heir to Narcissa’s care, even though he knew Draco would be safe with his ex-wife, but he was relieved that Draco was protected from any misguided reprisals for the Hogwarts invasion and death of Dumbledore now and that eased a heart which had now cautiously expanded to include two more.


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I hope you enjoyed Christmas with the Malfoys. I had an especially good time writing it. Let me know if you liked listening to 'Snape'.

Will a multitude of reviews hasten my next chapter? Hmmm, yes I think so. (Bribery, plain and simple.)
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