A New Order of Wizards - COMPLETE
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
51,742
Reviews:
424
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
51,742
Reviews:
424
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Hermione’s Decision
The characters belong to J.K.Rowling. I am only borrowing them for a while. No copyright transgressions are intended and no profit is made.
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Chapter Four – Hermione’s Decision
Dinner passed in near silence that evening. The crystal chandelier above the table shone on the ornate silver and the antique porcelain service. Hermione wondered why everything had to be so formal and pretentious. Couldn’t Lucius eat off paper plates and save the elves some work once in awhile? Even as she thought of it, she had to laugh. Lucius? No way.
Something amuses you, Mudblood? Please share the joke.”
“I just wondered why you never eat off paper plates to save a bit of workload for the elves sometimes. Then I laughed because the idea was ludicrous.”
Lucius was trying to imagine eating off paper plates. There was such a thing? Was that what poor people did? The idea seemed distasteful and his face showed his revulsion.
Seeing his expression, Hermione crowed, “Yes, that’s why I laughed. You have your hidebound limits. Not too flexible in some areas.”
Lucius knew he was being laughed at about the plates, but he was more insulted by her remarks on inflexibility. He was one of the most adaptable people he knew. Had he not survived the debacle of the war? With his fortune intact? He had been able to twist with the surging waves of change that had totally rearranged the landscape of his world. He was very adaptable. Very.
Serving himself some trout from a platter, Lucius observed sweetly, “You, on the other hand, still have trouble living in a house bigger than one of my sheds. It is very obvious to me that you do not belong here. Your table skills alone took weeks to perfect.” He paused and then said with spurious sympathy, “It must be difficult living so far above your station.”
Hermione took the hit as philosophically as she could. He was correct after all. She had not been brought up to this level of affluence and it took some getting used to. She lifted her fork and ate a bit of the trout. She wasn’t that fond of fish, but decided not to order food she would enjoy more. She’d never hear the end of a request for a hamburger. Lucius was such a snob.
Lucius saw he hadn’t made a dent in her feelings with his remarks. His ability to annihilate her with cutting words was getting less and less, so he added with surgical precision, “Being forced to have a social pariah in my home for the rest of my life is no more than unjust persecution.”
Hermione snapped, finally goaded, “Of course, your feelings of being persecuted have no similarity to what you tried to do to the Muggleborns and Halfbloods. You and your selfish ambitions have cut through the lives of nearly every wizarding community and you can only bemoan your own worthless loss. We are stuck in this nightmare because of your Death Eaters and your vicious Dark Lord.”
“Acquit me of selfish ambitions, if you please. My ambitions rose from wanting to save the Wizard world from being tainted and it seems I was right. The Muggleborns and Halfbloods came up with this unifying idea, not the Death Eaters.”
She scoffed angrily, “If I believed for an instant you had no selfish ambitions, our future children would have an idiot for a mother. As well as a greedy opportunist for a father. We at least chose unification. We could have just wiped out all the Purebloods, like you were going to do to us. You may be living a nightmare, but at least you and your family are all alive, unlike the poor victims of your Dark Lord’s megalomania.”
Lucius rejoined, “My dear, you are wiping out all the Purebloods. With your method all Purebloods will be gone from the face of the earth. Genocide in the guise of your ‘unification’. And, on that happy note, I’ll leave you to your dessert. I’m no longer hungry.” Lucius rose from the table. “My bedroom. One hour.” Lucius apparated away.
Hermione sighed, pushing away her trifle. Why was it always open warfare? All they accomplished was mutual stress and unhappiness. She dropped her chin into her hands.
And why was it always his bedroom lately? It really made more sense for it to be hers as it had been for the first ten months. She was supposed to stay still for half an hour after sex to have a better chance at getting pregnant. Lucius used to leave her immediately afterward to the relief of both. He didn’t know she immediately got up and washed herself out. Now Lucius left her lying in his bed, and just sat in an easy chair at the side in his robe. He usually didn’t talk to her; instead he spent the time reading a book or perusing his endless papers for the half hour until she could get up and leave. Did he want her company? He never did at any other time. Did he suspect she was trying to contravene the edict? If not, his behavior lately was totally confusing.
Hermione looked at the timepiece on the dining room wall. Only forty minutes now. She apparated up to her rooms and prepared herself for her weekly coupling with Lucius. He was right, it was boring, but she didn’t know what else there was supposed to be. He was the one who should have been responsible for her initiation into their sex life, but either he was incredibly awful at it or he was deliberately making sex as bland as he could from spite. But she knew he was suffering too. He had to be, unless his weekly thirty-second ejaculations were enough for him. She didn’t think so somehow.
Maybe it was time to move past their sniping and one-upping each other, and try to at least have a better relationship in bed. Just a truce between the sheets only. They would both win if they could do that. Hermione decided that tonight she would make some kind of effort to please him before he just did his fast in-and-out routine. She ran a cleaning spell down herself, put on a tiny bit of perfume, brushed her hair and selected her best nightie, a yellow see-through one Lucius had never seen. She carefully put on her regular pink chenille robe over the nightie and apparated to the long hallway outside Lucius’ bedroom door, then knocked on the raised panel.
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Chapter Four – Hermione’s Decision
Dinner passed in near silence that evening. The crystal chandelier above the table shone on the ornate silver and the antique porcelain service. Hermione wondered why everything had to be so formal and pretentious. Couldn’t Lucius eat off paper plates and save the elves some work once in awhile? Even as she thought of it, she had to laugh. Lucius? No way.
Something amuses you, Mudblood? Please share the joke.”
“I just wondered why you never eat off paper plates to save a bit of workload for the elves sometimes. Then I laughed because the idea was ludicrous.”
Lucius was trying to imagine eating off paper plates. There was such a thing? Was that what poor people did? The idea seemed distasteful and his face showed his revulsion.
Seeing his expression, Hermione crowed, “Yes, that’s why I laughed. You have your hidebound limits. Not too flexible in some areas.”
Lucius knew he was being laughed at about the plates, but he was more insulted by her remarks on inflexibility. He was one of the most adaptable people he knew. Had he not survived the debacle of the war? With his fortune intact? He had been able to twist with the surging waves of change that had totally rearranged the landscape of his world. He was very adaptable. Very.
Serving himself some trout from a platter, Lucius observed sweetly, “You, on the other hand, still have trouble living in a house bigger than one of my sheds. It is very obvious to me that you do not belong here. Your table skills alone took weeks to perfect.” He paused and then said with spurious sympathy, “It must be difficult living so far above your station.”
Hermione took the hit as philosophically as she could. He was correct after all. She had not been brought up to this level of affluence and it took some getting used to. She lifted her fork and ate a bit of the trout. She wasn’t that fond of fish, but decided not to order food she would enjoy more. She’d never hear the end of a request for a hamburger. Lucius was such a snob.
Lucius saw he hadn’t made a dent in her feelings with his remarks. His ability to annihilate her with cutting words was getting less and less, so he added with surgical precision, “Being forced to have a social pariah in my home for the rest of my life is no more than unjust persecution.”
Hermione snapped, finally goaded, “Of course, your feelings of being persecuted have no similarity to what you tried to do to the Muggleborns and Halfbloods. You and your selfish ambitions have cut through the lives of nearly every wizarding community and you can only bemoan your own worthless loss. We are stuck in this nightmare because of your Death Eaters and your vicious Dark Lord.”
“Acquit me of selfish ambitions, if you please. My ambitions rose from wanting to save the Wizard world from being tainted and it seems I was right. The Muggleborns and Halfbloods came up with this unifying idea, not the Death Eaters.”
She scoffed angrily, “If I believed for an instant you had no selfish ambitions, our future children would have an idiot for a mother. As well as a greedy opportunist for a father. We at least chose unification. We could have just wiped out all the Purebloods, like you were going to do to us. You may be living a nightmare, but at least you and your family are all alive, unlike the poor victims of your Dark Lord’s megalomania.”
Lucius rejoined, “My dear, you are wiping out all the Purebloods. With your method all Purebloods will be gone from the face of the earth. Genocide in the guise of your ‘unification’. And, on that happy note, I’ll leave you to your dessert. I’m no longer hungry.” Lucius rose from the table. “My bedroom. One hour.” Lucius apparated away.
Hermione sighed, pushing away her trifle. Why was it always open warfare? All they accomplished was mutual stress and unhappiness. She dropped her chin into her hands.
And why was it always his bedroom lately? It really made more sense for it to be hers as it had been for the first ten months. She was supposed to stay still for half an hour after sex to have a better chance at getting pregnant. Lucius used to leave her immediately afterward to the relief of both. He didn’t know she immediately got up and washed herself out. Now Lucius left her lying in his bed, and just sat in an easy chair at the side in his robe. He usually didn’t talk to her; instead he spent the time reading a book or perusing his endless papers for the half hour until she could get up and leave. Did he want her company? He never did at any other time. Did he suspect she was trying to contravene the edict? If not, his behavior lately was totally confusing.
Hermione looked at the timepiece on the dining room wall. Only forty minutes now. She apparated up to her rooms and prepared herself for her weekly coupling with Lucius. He was right, it was boring, but she didn’t know what else there was supposed to be. He was the one who should have been responsible for her initiation into their sex life, but either he was incredibly awful at it or he was deliberately making sex as bland as he could from spite. But she knew he was suffering too. He had to be, unless his weekly thirty-second ejaculations were enough for him. She didn’t think so somehow.
Maybe it was time to move past their sniping and one-upping each other, and try to at least have a better relationship in bed. Just a truce between the sheets only. They would both win if they could do that. Hermione decided that tonight she would make some kind of effort to please him before he just did his fast in-and-out routine. She ran a cleaning spell down herself, put on a tiny bit of perfume, brushed her hair and selected her best nightie, a yellow see-through one Lucius had never seen. She carefully put on her regular pink chenille robe over the nightie and apparated to the long hallway outside Lucius’ bedroom door, then knocked on the raised panel.