The Wedding - COMPLETE

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Updated 1-31-07

I'm very appreciative of all your reviews and I hope you like this chapter. If you're familiar with my stories, you'll already know that Lucius always comes along slowly, learning multiple hard-won (and hard-on?)lessons from the heroine in how to connect to a mate. Lucius isn't going to learn very fast in this story, poor sod. So bear with him as he makes his mistakes along the way. He'll get there - don't give up hope. 8-)

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Chapter Six


Quidditch


The next morning after moodily eating a solitary breakfast of tea and a few squares of toast in the sunlight-filled morning room, Lucius apparated to his study and found an ivory vellum envelope addressed to him on his desk. Inside was a draft on Gringott’s for two million Galleons in his name, and two tickets to excellent box seats for the Quidditch match that night. A small note accompanied the tickets, “Will you invite me to go with you?” It was signed “Mrs. Malfoy”. Lucius was charmed in spite of himself. He’d spent a miserable night wondering if he would have to apologize to his wife and further demean himself and then Hermione had made his world brighter again. Maybe he would apologize in his own way by seeing if she wanted to celebrate the win after the game. It didn’t matter which team won as long as he did. Preferably inside her.


In her bedroom, Hermione radiated tension, impatiently waiting to see if her peace offering was acceptable to her husband while trying not to shred her Scarlet Temptress fingernail polish with her teeth. Crookshanks merely gave an irritated yowl at her incessant pacing and settled to snooze on the windowsill. An excruciating hour later an elf brought her a note, which she opened with trepidation. All it said was, “Be ready by five” in a bold, angular, forward-slanting hand. No signature. Hermione hadn’t known she’d been holding her breath, but she exhaled in a rush when the words sank in. He was willing to forgive her and accept the money as his own. She waved the note at her familiar, “He accepted it, Crookshanks!” The cat didn’t even look up. A very relieved Hermione vowed to be more vigilant about Lucius’ requirements in future; she wouldn’t cause him to suffer any more unnecessary privations if she could help it. And she perked up when she remembered one of his more pressing requirements. Maybe tonight after the match, he would be interested in a game for two ‘seekers’. She giggled to herself, they could play ‘hide the beater’s bat’. His size wasn’t that far off from one. Hermione went shopping with Ginny that day with a light heart and slightly damp knickers.


Hermione got home early in order to spend plenty of time in a bubblebath and trying to tame her hair. She finally decided on several layers of clothing so she could keep on as much or as little as she needed in the open-air stadium. She added her fur-lined dragon hide boots and a little knit cap since her hair-taming hadn’t gone so well. She was ready well before five and spent the rest of the time worrying about seeing Lucius again.


Right on the stroke of five Lucius apparated outside her bedroom and knocked on the door. Hermione answered the door almost before he stopped knocking and he realized she was just as nervous about seeing him again as he was her. He was dressed casually for him, in a dark brown leather bomber jacket over a dress shirt and tie and the ubiquitous baby fine black wool trousers. He had chosen to wear low boots also. He silently held out his hand and Hermione took it, stepping forward into his arms. Lucius apparated them to the local stadium entryway, then he gently put her aside only retaining his hold on her hand as he walked them both through the gate, showing the tickets, and into the crowd. Lucius had been to the stadium many times before and knew just where their seats were. He led the two of them unerringly up to the level of their seats, protectively running interference for his petite wife against jostling bodies, and showed Hermione into a luxurious private box with a door in the rear wall and an wide vista in the front for watching the game. Windows could be closed over the view in cold weather, but the evening was mild so they remained open.


Hermione saw Lucius turn the key in the lock and asked, “Lucius, why did you lock the door?” Was he going to watch the game or try to view something else?


He answered absently, disappointing Hermione a little, “Fans go along these upper tiers trying the doors to see if any of the boxes are open. I don’t want to be disturbed by them.” Lucius showed her to a cushioned seat at the front of the box where they could see the field below and had an unrestricted view of the air space above, then he wandered to the front edge of the box to look down at the field over the half-wall. Hermione needn’t have concerned herself with the door lock. Lucius was a male bent on a sporting event. Even adventurous sex took second place to that. The XY chromosome combination always overrode all other stimuli for a chance at sports, even in the wizarding world.


“Oh, this is perfect, Mr. M.,” Hermione teased. “I’ll be able to see everything from here.” She thought in resignation that perhaps she wasn’t going to see just everything the way Lucius was already focused on the playing field. Well, no surprise there. Harry and Ron had been just the same. She had a nice view of his butt, though.


Lucius turned away from the view to address his wife, disappointing Hermione even more, “You got us great tickets, Mrs. M. Just how did you do that?”


Hermione beamed up at him, “I looked up the name of the stadium manager and flooed his wife. She got the information for me. A very nice lady.”


Lucius was relieved she hadn’t asked anyone in the Ministry for the information. He didn’t want anything more to do with them than he had to, and he had a strong suspicion she knew that. “That was clever. I usually had seats right along here. You did very well.” Lucius took a cushioned seat next to Hermione and spread out his long legs.


Hermione leaned in toward her husband, surreptitiously inhaling his unique fragrance and inquired, “Which team do you want to win tonight?”


“I don’t have a preference between these two teams. My favorite team is the Salisbury Stingers. More local, you know. Oh, here come the teams now.” Lucius leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.


Each team flew around the stadium eliciting cheers and boos. Finally, the game began in earnest. Lucius was intent on the action, hissing at bad plays and shouting at successful ones. Hermione spent more time watching her husband than the game. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him so animated before, even when he watched Draco at Hogwarts matches. Most of the little girls sneakily ogled him and giggled in embarrassed fascination at a virility they barely understood, but were totally enraptured by. She hadn’t been immune to his attractions even then.


She certainly wasn’t immune now, either, as she saw that he really loved the game. It was another piece of his puzzle – when he’d talked about loving to play Quidditch, he’d been showing her a bit of the real Lucius. Really, the man was like an iceberg, chilly, and nine-tenths of him hidden below the surface. Hermione wasn’t sure she wanted to uncover any more of his hidden depths, and be sucked into his spellbinding vortex, but marriage was an intimate relationship even if neither party wanted it to be. She’d have to remember that. Especially now that it was more intimate than ever. She didn’t know where it was fated to go from here.


Lucius turned to Hermione every so often, sharing his enthusiasm with her at a particularly good or bad play, explaining how someone should have done something differently or telling her that a player’s maneuver was especially clever. She was just enjoying his enjoyment, but made appropriate noises at his comments. As the game progressed, though, she got a bit more wound up in it herself, learning what to watch for from her husband, and she started hissing and booing along with the rest of the crowd. They both got food and drink, talking about the various plays during the irregular game breaks when players got injured. Hermione got more affronted at the blatant cheating than Lucius, to whom it was all part of the game.


When the Bristol Bombers had barely squeaked by the Manchester Marauders and the crowd started leaving the stadium, Lucius protected Hermione with his greater size from the further jostling of the fans leaving the structure until the two of them could get outside the gates. No one was able to apparate in or out of the stadium itself for obvious reasons.


Lucius gathered Hermione in his arms and apparated the two of them back onto the estate, landing them in the foyer.


“I enjoyed that very much, Lucius,” exclaimed Hermione. “You made the game come alive for me, telling me about plays that I would never have understood in such depth otherwise. You would have made a great Quidditch player.”


Lucius basked in the glow of his wife’s admiring eyes and her words. He could have been good. He sighed. No use thinking of what never happened. Narcissa had never gone to a single game with him, complaining that it was too boring for her to sit through. He watched Hermione take off layer after layer of clothing, enjoying the tame striptease, waiting for her to remove her cute little knit cap. She had whisked away all the layers as she disrobed, then stood in front of Lucius in her tee shirt and long pants, looking up at him with a shy half smile.


Lucius reached out and popped the little cap off her head, holding it out for her. He looked down at her asking a silent question with his mesmerizing, foggy gray eyes.


Hermione looked up at her husband, putting her hand over his and holding onto it rather than taking her cap from him, “Yes, please, if you’re sure.”


Lucius gave her a slight, twisted smile, “Oh, I’m sure. After all, if one night of sex with me is worth two million Galleons, I should have my entire fortune back by the end of the month.” He saw her sudden withdrawal and realized she’d missed his joke. “Hermione,” Lucius caressed her cold-reddened cheek with his other hand, “I’m just joking. Either I need to stop teasing you or we need to learn each other a bit better.”


Hermione exhaled in relief. She was going to have to do better recognizing her husband’s sense of humor. It peeked out at the oddest times. So far, it had only appeared when the topic was sex. It was unusual that he seemed more relaxed when their relationship – if it could be called that – segued into the physical realm, as though he stood on firmer ground and could open up a bit more of that serpentine personality to her then. Slytherins weren’t known for their bonhomie, so getting teased by Lucius was a little disconcerting. But nice.


“If you’d like, we can go to my bedroom and get warmed up in the shower.” Both of them were a bit chilled from being outdoors for hours, but Lucius figured Hermione, being so much smaller, might have lost more body heat than he had. Her little hand was like an icicle. Lucius was usually tuned in to the physical needs of others – it was part of what made him such a success between the sheets.


“That sounds glorious. I’m pretty near frozen.” Hermione was beginning to shiver in the warmth of the house.


“I’m sorry. I should have been more careful of you.” Lucius grimaced in apology at Hermione, who squeezed his hand with hers to make a point he needed to hear.


“Lucius, I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself. It’s my fault I got a little chilled. I just didn’t notice in the excitement of the game. And it’s not the first time I’ve been a bit cold from an outdoor event. People my size just have that problem. A shower will fix me right up.”


Lucius picked Hermione up in his arms and apparated them to his room.
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So they have found a way to make a slight, tentative connection beyond the bedroom -- for now. I promised a long story and Lucius can't be perfect overnight. Or even in a week. I'm sure Hermione will be up to the challenge, but she's not a miracle-worker.

I would love to hear from my readers. Review with your feedback - please?