The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

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7-13-09 Mon


Well, it is now obvious why I didn’t want to relate Severus’ relationship until its time. Lucius had to have a LITTLE bit of the spotlight before he lost out to Severus’ startling marital alliance. I’ve always been one of the authors to pry Narcissa off Lucius (through divorce, I hadn’t the heart to kill her - it’s not her fault I hated her LOL). For this story I decided it was time to put aside my groundless animosity and try to explore the Narcissa character in more depth.


After I wrote this story, I wrote Narcissa (and Lucius and Snape) in a one-shot under Pittwitch’s “Seven Deadly Sins” challenge, called “Pride and Humility”. It is Chapter Two. I listed this one-shot under Recommended Reading in my Profile page because otherwise it wouldn't show up as a story I wrote on AFF. If you don’t like slash, don’t go there. If you do go there, I’d love a review. The slash is mild. (My two Narcissas are quite different from each other.)

http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600022570&chapter=2

Now to answer your comments:

Margaritama – It will be quite interesting to me to see if I’ve pulled off the Severus-Narcissa pairing. I’ve never tried it before. Narcissa and Lucius formed their marital relationship when she was young, he was young, and they had the Dark Lord to contend with. Life is different now. | For some reason I have trouble writing stories without humor creeping in. | I agree they both have trouble suffering fools. That won’t be their problem with each other. If I need a summary of this story, may I use yours? It perfectly describes the merry-go-round Lucius and Hermione find themselves on. His offer of waiting a week for the wedding night was for her. He railroaded her into the marriage and, as you say, he’s in it for the long haul. Why not try to begin with some kindness? Yes, Hermione completely missed the spanking reference he made. She’s whip smart but very naïve and quite starchy about S-E-X.

jw – I found writing the dynamic between Lucius and Snape after Narcissa had traded partners quite fascinating. No, they didn’t cuckold Lucius. Good question. En route to breakfast, Lucius offers Hermione the choice between apparating or walking to the breakfast parlor. She chooses apparition and says it’s because she’s hungry, but they both know it is because she doesn’t want to have to converse with him on the way. That’s why he was offended. She can’t apparate anywhere off the estate, but she can move anywhere ON the estate. Hope that answers your question…

meankitty69 – At this point Lucius IS your lost, slightly naughty puppy. Good call. Very good!

BeaBibliophile – Save your bricks for the Severus-Narcissa pairing for a while anyway, okay? You’ll get that awkward dinner party soon. Yeah, I’m smitten by Lucius, too. I suppose that’s no secret. He’s not anyone’s idea of a saint, but he’s basically a decent man. The morning kiss is the tip of a very hot iceberg, heh, heh.

Snapes_Goddess – Lucius argues all the time in my head. It’s hard to shut him up and I’m always diving for the computer or a pencil and paper. I didn’t write it that Lucius fudged the contract even more by re-opening her marriage contract. I missed a bet there. But she was very young when she took out the contract and not remotely sharp legally.| The movie casting of Narcissa stinks in my opinion. IMDB says that Helen McCrory originally was set to be Bellatrix but got pregnant. This might be a pity casting. Narcissa has never been my favorite, but I felt it was time to face my prejudices and try to give her an opportunity, just not with Lucius LOL. Her interaction with Hermione…well, you’ll have to tell me if it suits you. And Lucius would definitely not like Hermione even thinking about Snape.

Rainie – I’m hoping this pairing of Severus and Narcissa I’ve essayed will prove acceptable. I think it turned out well, but the interaction between Hermione and Narcissa winds through the story a long way.

Angelnomiko – Hey angel, nice to ‘see’ you. I hope you like the story.

blue artemis – For now, I don’t think either Lucius or Hermione will be opening up their inner thoughts to each other. They are actually almost strangers as far as social intimacy goes. Plus, my story would have “The End” after about the sixth chapter if they were talking to each other, as you pointed out. Those two will be at cross-purposes a lot.

Rini – Yeah, I’m going to have to watch my addition of his feet. They wander into my stories occasionally and I’m not even a foot fetishist. It stumps me, it really does. Maybe he becomes more human to me with bare feet. Lucius’ thoughts on the Snape-Narcissa marriage will come out. | Oh, I do think Lucius was doing what you thought he was, in his study. My sigh was worrying about the reaction to the Snape marriage. And hugs to you for your reviews.

Jesse – I’m pleased you’re enjoying the story so far. Apparently Lucius favors spanking. Who knew? (snicker)

Aleysiasnape – Hermione certainly got a reaction from a little tap on Lucius’ rear. She’s still oblivious to its significance, though.

HarryGinny4eva – Thanks for reassuring me about the chapter. It was the Snape marriage thing that worried me. Poooor Hermione, scheduled for sex with Lucius in a week. My heart bleeds. (Yeah, I’m jealous, too)

Terpsichore – You could probably crack an egg on Lucius’ tush. I wouldn’t want to try it, however. My suspicion is that Lucius prefers to be the spanker rather than the spankee, but it’s all good, right? | Lucius knew she liked books from Draco, I imagine. It was a kind gesture.

Scary Bear Hair – Hermione may get lingerie, Scary, but don’t expect her to be wearing it long. I like to write the smut; it sometimes comes more easily than the rest of the prose. Lucius, the gentleman – actually he was brought up to be a gentleman, so it fits his persona. Both Lucius and Hermione are thinking animals – it is their guiding light rather than the visceral, instinctual approach to life. Therefore, a lot of chapters have to go by before they let go of their intellects and just feel. I’m so mean. (This is not meant to imply they don’t screw each other’s brains out in the mean time…LOL)

Alecto – I take it that you liked Lucius and Hermione snogging? LOL

Maggie – Hermione a doormat? No way. “The Taming of the Shrew” play is a jumping off point and has some application but Hermione is no downtrodden Katherine and Lucius, well, he has a touch of Petruchio, but he’s goaded. Anyway, don’t worry.

Damiana – Wouldn’t it be nice to wake up to kissing like that? (After brushing my teeth though LOL.) I’m not much of an interior decorator, but her rooms came out nicely, I think. They’ll be spending more time in there, heh, heh.

Abbeysmum – I suspect Hermione will be crossing swords with Lucius many times.

Ravenna – Lucius isn’t at his best when he wakes up (but give him ten minutes and watch out!) He is a very complex character to me so I’m happy you are seeing different facets of him, too. It’s fun to rag on his worry about his age.

nikkinoo - Welcome! What author doesn't like to hear they're creating characters that readers enjoy? I have a soft spot for Lucius, too. Can you tell? LOL

Citten – Lucius and Hermione need to build a little trust before communication gets better. Yes, please – stay with me on the Snape-Narcissa pairing. This next chapter has some elucidation. Aw, you’ve only had to wait about a week. I’m working on my next story, (and writing these answers), plus scouring the web for pics to enhance the chapter – you ARE looking at them on my LiveJournal, aren’t you? Here’s the web URL:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/44966.html


Now, on with the story…


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Chapter Six


Snape Issues a Warning

Three days of irritating celibacy later Hermione’s sitting room door slammed open and an angry wizard stalked through it to stand fuming, hands on hips in front of her desk. “What the holy, fucking hell is that Muggle automobile doing in my barn? It’s making the horses and thestrals extremely nervous with its disgusting smell.” He paced around the room circling her sofa, then returned to stand again in front of her. “Well?” Lucius’ temper was dangerously frayed from his spur-of-the-moment peace gesture to his new wife at their first breakfast to put off their wedding night for one week while she got used to him and his household.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Lucius. I’ve been meaning to speak to you about it. You’ll need to build me my own garage for my new car. Parking it in the barn gets horse pucky on my wheels and bits of straw stuck in the undercarriage. The mechanic says it’s bad for the vehicle.”

“How did you get a new car when I’ve not allowed you off the estate?” Lucius leaned down, bringing his face close to hers over the desk as he propped his hands on her research papers. “Saint Beedle’s balls, Hermione, you’ve only been here three days!” He certainly didn’t look angelic at the moment – his eyes were narrowed into slits and his color was flushed enough for Hermione to wonder if he had high blood pressure.

“I owled Gringotts to order it from the dealer’s. I’ve always wanted a Mini-Cooper but couldn’t afford one before. In your honor I bought a green one,” she jeered. “Gringotts Bank said they could arrange to pay the car company with no problem. The mechanic brought it over. Having money is rather fun, isn’t it?”

Hermione smiled engagingly at the irate wizard, seeing his eyes dilate with temper. If she couldn’t go anywhere, she was going to enjoy all the perks of his money from her sitting room. She figured he would have to let her leave the estate sometime and she was looking forward to tooling around the countryside in her new car. So far all she had done was investigate the perimeters of the estate on the few horse trails wide enough to allow for the car’s modest size. “I don’t like to ride horses or fly thestrals so I decided to wander around your estate in my new car.”

“How did you know what to order? If it’s anything like ordering a coach, you have to know what you want. In any case, you can’t contaminate my barn with that Muggle toy. And if you are immured on the estate, you can’t drive it anywhere here, either. I don’t have roads all over my estate. I don’t need them. Get that hunk of Muggle metal out of my barn, Hermione. Send it back to the car dealers. You can’t keep it.” Lucius glared at his wife and saw her mulish expression overtake her smile, which hadn’t been a real smile in any case. Lucius wasn’t stupid – he knew she was baiting him, but it was working, dammit.

“Sorry,” she said, not sorry at all, “I’m not sending it back. You didn’t pay for it, I did with my own money. Your stablemaster, Barnabas, fixed the end of the barn for me to use, but if you don’t like it in the barn, build me a garage.” Hermione’s latest research job had netted her a very generous fee and she had finally achieved a long-held ambition to own her own car. Since she no longer had to pay rent or buy groceries or other necessities, her bank account would become very healthy and she saw no reason to deny herself.

Feeling recklessly triumphant and knowing her only chance at a family was with the wizard standing in the room glaring at her, she announced airily, “I may buy another car, too, if you continue on with your unilateral plan to increase the Malfoy family line. I would need a bigger car than the Mini for back seat baby carriers. You can buy that car.”

Lucius sucked in a startled breath. He wanted more children and he’d told her or rather taunted her with his plan to add to his family using her as the mother in the registry office waiting room. Was she accepting that idea so easily? Lucius stood in the middle of the floor, uncharacteristically at a loss. Was she offering to act on his desire to have more children, or was this some sort of trick?

He had geared himself up for spending years wearing her down before she would accept motherhood from him. She was young and had time; he was older and wanted children before the tykes wound up pushing his wheelchair for him. Levitating him would become the favored mode of travel for poor, old papa Lucius.

“Are you saying you would accept carrying my child? The child of a devil Malfoy?”

“You have made it clear I’m caught in this marriage like a garden gnome in a Kneazle’s jaws,” Hermione replied. “If I want children I either have to have them with you or search out a donor, preferably a blond one, I suppose, if your sperm count is low.” Hermione gave him another of her Cheshire cat smiles. “So! Where will you build the garage? It should be close to the house so I needn’t have to Apparate purchases and children too far.”

The blond wizard eyed her in mistrust, “In return, when can I expect this vaunted cooperation on increasing our family?” Lucius was extremely skeptical of her offer, wondering where the strings were hidden. She hated his guts. It was unlikely she would blithely sew herself into Malfoy motherhood so easily. He didn’t rise to her obvious baiting technique, suggesting he was shooting blanks.

“Well,” she tapped her finger on her lips in spurious concentration, “I’ve only been here three days. I haven’t given parenthood a great deal of thought. Not like my Mini-Cooper, of course. Deciding on the color alone was a major undertaking. I don’t get to decide much of anything with my offspring – not even who their father will be. That was taken away from me. I understand the Malfoy genes always breed that straw blond hair color and those spooky eyes. Is that true? If so, I guess I should count myself lucky I got to pick out my Cooper color.”

“Was the answer to my question about starting a family buried in that oration anywhere? If you want a garage, organize the work yourself. You have the power to have one built. You’re now a Malfoy. The Gringotts goblins were quick enough to help you buy your car, get them to arrange for the construction.”

Lucius perched on the corner of Hermione’s desk and leaned into her, face to face, “I’ll start work on a new Malfoy immediately if there’s no objection. You seem not to have an opinion one way or another.” He sifted his long fingers through the curls just over one of her small ears, liking how it bounced back. It really was very soft.

Hermione was finally beginning to be intimidated by the forceful pronouncements of this man. She leaned back from his sifting fingers and tucked her hair behind her ear. Just tell the goblins to build her a garage? He actually meant it. Maybe she could really do it. But she wasn’t supplying any little Malfoys for the foreseeable future.

“I haven’t any control over who fathers my children or what they will look like thanks to you. Are you going to take when I have these children away from me, too?”

Lucius let the little witch go and sat back himself, still perched on the corner of her desk. “For now we’ll consider this our period of adjustment. For now,” he warned. “The garage is up to you.” Lucius rose and left her to her chaotic thoughts.

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The day turned blustery and dank with rain pelting the windows of Lucius’ study in a soft tattoo. Orbs were lit to counteract the lack of light outside and a fire roared in the fireplace, keeping the chill from invading the room.

“Well, have you told her yet?” Snape was relaxing full length on the green leather sofa, ankles crossed and sipping an aged, green, goblin-made liqueur. He was chewing on some nuts from a small crystal bowl balanced on his stomach. The former Potions Master had missed lunch due to a hastily called School Governors’ meeting, which he had ordered due to the latest situation brewing at the Ministry. Even the government was starting to be affected by the subtle miasma they were all feeling.

“No, and I’ll thank you to not stick that prodigious proboscis of yours into this. We’ve only been married a few days, Severus. She barely tolerates me as it is. I’m not going to pour oil on the bonfire of our brand-new marriage by telling her the rest of why we chose her and what she’ll be asked to do – not yet.”

Snape ignored the unflattering description of his nose, “If you don’t tell her soon, she’ll turn your bonfire into a funeral pyre. Women don’t like to be surprised by these things. Tell her soon, Lucius, or she’ll feel she’s nothing but a dupe, coerced to help us with our little problem, which you failed to mention in a timely manner.”

Lucius scoffed, “Now, you’re a expert on women? One year of marriage and you’ve decided I need direction. That’s rich.” He rose from a matching green leather chair and started pacing. “I want her more settled into our relationship before I spring that on her. I have the rest of the summer to tell her. And if you see the problem as ‘little’ you don’t need me. You can handle it yourself.”

Snape merely speared Lucius with a heavy-lidded, ironic stare and continued selecting the nuts he preferred out of the variety jumbled in the dish.

Lucius wandered to his desk and idly played with a quill in its silver holder. “She feels no connection between us yet. It’s…difficult being thought a monstrous fiend by your own wife. Hermione sees me as some sort of cardboard cutout figure who is inherently dark and evil with not a single streak of light or laughter to leaven my rotten soul.” The words were meant to be facetious, but his underlying despondency bled through.

Snape made a rude noise at the blond wizard’s melodrama. He knew Lucius was upset, but catering to his theatrics would only send him further into the dismals. The dark-haired sorcerer wouldn’t humor his friend’s dolor, nor was it what the blond wizard needed.

Instead, Severus shot back callously, “You just don’t want to hand Granger any advantage over you by appearing conciliatory. However…,” he lifted a hand to stop Lucius from jumping in to defend himself and waited until Lucius subsided with a grumpy glare, “I truly doubt she views you as a monstrous, soulless fiend. Believe me, I know. I have a great deal of experience being viewed as a mix of Dracula and a Dementor.”

“Her last name is Malfoy now, not Granger. What’s a Dracula?” asked Lucius, confused and a little irritated that his maudlin turn of mind wasn’t finding any compassionate foothold in his comrade’s emotions. Typical, he thought. Cold as the North Sea. What does Narcissa see in the man anyway?

“Never mind, you wouldn’t know the Muggle reference,” Snape popped a few more nuts into his mouth and swallowed them down with more liqueur, completely unconcerned about his past reputation and obviously not terribly sympathetic to Lucius’ marital woes. He observed with scant comfort, “You’ve never had a problem with women, with your looks. Your flaws have always been your uneven temper and your snobbery.”

“Your temper’s never won any awards either,” Lucius pointed out with juvenile rancor, “and as I remember you’ve certainly had your successful moments with women, one of which ended up marrying you. By the way, you look trés chic in your pretty, embroidered robes. Are those pink flowers round your collar? They bring out the roses in your cheeks.”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Snape said mildly, not even looking up from the nut dish. “You know they’re my School Governor’s official robes.”

Lucius didn’t really begrudge Severus his marriage to Narcissa, but he had a little trouble occasionally, letting go of the fiction that his first marriage had been a good one. It hadn’t. He knew he and Narcissa had been a mismatch and so very often disappointed in each other. At the time of the split it had been a huge relief to both of them. He needed to remember that harsh truth and not the pretty fantasy he would prefer to look back on as his previous marriage faded into obscurity.

When Narcissa had first told him she wanted a divorce Lucius had been appalled, but he soon admitted, if only to himself, that his reaction was more about what outsiders would think than how it would affect the ones most nearly involved. He had almost cost his son and Narcissa their lives with his political entanglement. She had dutifully done everything he’d asked of her during Voldemort’s reign and had saved them all by helping Potter. It had been time for him to do something for her. He had acquiesced to the divorce.

Snape idly listened to Lucius’ maundering, but his mobile lips curled up ever so slightly with pleasure at the mention of his new wife. Life was immeasurably kinder and brighter with Narcissa in his bed – they were an excellent match. Lucius’ preferences were of no import, not that he thought Lucius really cared. It was definitely more a matter of a dog losing a bone it hadn’t really wanted until another dog found it enticing.

He rather liked the idea of besting Lucius, then grimaced. Now who was creating a fantasy he always chided Lucius for? He hadn’t taken Narcissa from the other man. But she had chosen him, a Halfblood of no particular pedigree. Snape’s smile gentled; she brought him two things incredibly precious to his battered soul – peace and true love.

Both he and Narcissa were worried about Lucius’ increasingly bad moods and restiveness, but also concerned for his spiral downward into a melancholia totally unlike the self-confident wizard. They knew he was wrestling with the increasing financial instabilities many of the Purebloods were facing.

But he and Narcissa were also guilty of adding to Lucius’ burdens by snaring him into grappling with the situation all of them saw developing. That had only added to his funk, so the newlyweds had decided together it was time for Lucius to be married again.

The elegant Pureblood needed someone of his own to take his mind off the happy families fiction of his last marriage that had never truly been happy, plus a married Lucius would simultaneously become eligible to solve their Pureblood problem. Snape had fallen across the open marriage contract at the Ministry and Hermione had been elected. Hermione’s name and reputation would expunge Lucius’ purported activities as reported in the Daily Prophet by that skanky witch, Skeeter, who had scurrilously and falsely skewered him in the press.

Aside from the Pureblood problem, the ex-Potions Master thought Hermione was an excellent choice of mate for his friend. She had enough backbone for an entire army and Lucius needed that as he tended to be extremely overpowering and bombastic if let run free in a relationship.

Given enough time the blond git could convince a zombie it needed life insurance so Snape was sure Lucius could make Hermione feel something for him if he used a bit of guile – he already had the charisma. The trouble was Lucius hadn’t quite taken Hermione’s measure and he still had the mistaken idea her Muggleborn background gave him some sort of superior position in their marriage.

Severus subtly directed Lucius’ morose thoughts into a more positive channel by remarking, “Perhaps your new relationship will profit from propinquity and your marriage will become a love match. Stranger things have happened.”

“Love?” Lucius said. “Purebloods don’t marry for love, the rich ones anyway.”

“Narcissa married for love – the second time,” Severus reminded Lucius, one black eyebrow rising and an incipient smile hovering.

“A freakish exception,” Lucius waved that away.

“Are you calling me a freak?” Snape’s tone and eyebrow dropped and he shot a glowering glare at his heedless friend.

“Of course not, you idiot.” Lucius’ chin sank into his cupped hands as he rested his elbows on his desk, staring down at his blotter and sighing.

“Calling me an idiot isn’t much better,” muttered Snape and he decided to weigh in on Lucius’ inane assertion. “I remember once, long ago, you pondering if you’d married the wrong Black sister, thinking Bellatrix might suit you better. But Bellatrix’s fire came from insanity. Hermione’s fire comes from her intelligence and pride. She believes herself to be your equal. If she ever submits to you it will be because she loves you, however, it won’t be a way of life for her as it was for Narcissa. Plus, I imagine her submission will only be found in your bedroom, if there. Don’t expect her to give way to your opinions anywhere else.”

Lucius contemplated the black-haired wizard, “Don’t you want a bit more fire in your bed?”

Snape smiled and his serenity was palpable, flowing like a calm stream all around him. He'd already had enough fire in his life to last a millenium. He wasn't looking for any more. “Unlike you, I did marry the right Black sister.” Amused at Lucius’ grimace of chagrin, Snape threw out another sly suggestion, “Hermione must already have some regard for you or she wouldn’t have married you even if she had to go to Azkaban for ten years instead of three. She’s extremely headstrong. She wouldn’t have been led into marriage without a niggling little attraction to you. Can you imagine her being forced into marriage with Rodolphus? Or even that half-witted Goyle spawn?”

Lucius stared at his friend, arrested by the idea that his wife might have some interest in him buried under all that cold indifference fringed with freezing animosity. “No…,” he said slowly, the idea percolating in his fertile brain and snapping him out of his self-induced doldrums, “you’re right. I can’t conceive of her letting herself be married to either of them, and she would have avoided the Goyle prat as only boring, not dangerous like Rodolphus.”

At that moment, Lucius’ study door crashed open and Hermione stalked inside. “Did you do something with my half-Kneazle?”

“Me? Of course not,” the elegant wizard replied, but his eyes shifted sideways for a second, telegraphing to Hermione that he wasn’t telling the truth.

“You did! What did you do? Have you hurt my pet? It’s raining outside. He should be in my rooms.” She rushed toward the desk where Lucius was sitting and picked up a small statuette of a hippogriff he used as a paperweight. “Tell me!” she cried, lifting the small item and threatening to throw it, not at him, but through one of his study windows.

“I didn’t do anything to hurt your pet, Hermione. Put the statue down.” Lucius stood up and pulled out his wand, aiming at the little piece of hand-molded metal. “Expelliar-!” he began, but immediately felt the wand start to sputter. “Dammit!” he muttered. Lucius didn’t want Hermione to know his wand was broken so he ostentatiously put it down on the desk with a grand gesture and said snootily, “No. I won’t dignify your accusation with a petty retaliation.”

Snape snorted from the sofa, alerting Hermione for the first time that she had an audience and she slewed around to see the dark-haired wizard lying on the sofa across the room wearing some sort of fussily embroidered robe. Ah, one of her husband’s co-conspirators in shackling her to him. Hermione frowned at the reclining wizard and Lucius hurriedly pulled her attention back to him by affecting a dramatic stance of martyred stoicism, “Throw it if you must. I didn’t hurt your pet.”

“Then why do you look guilty?” Hermione asked, unimpressed, but she lowered the statue, tossing it back and forth between her hands.

“I may have teased him just a little,” Lucius owned, “but just a little. It can’t have anything to do with why you can’t find him.” Hermione just glared at her husband and waited. Lucius tidied some parchments on his desk, avoiding his wife’s eyes, “I… may have transfigured some of his cat food so it looked like flobberworms.” She frowned in disapproval, but waited some more.

Lucius looked up at her and huffed, “I saw him outside my study window this morning and I… possibly glamoured a mole he was chasing to look like a hellhound.” Hermione gasped. “But neither of those tricks worked; the little orange demon wasn’t fooled at all.” Lucius was clearly irritated and that reassured his wife more than his words did. “Upon reflection,” he said, “I think it was the scent where I went wrong. I couldn’t make a mole smell like a hellhound because I haven’t the slightest idea how a hellhound smells. Same for the flobberworms. After that I gave up. Frankly, I think the little monster likes my attempts to chase it off.”

Lucius sat back down. “You do need to control it, Hermione. Your damned pest got into my Zen garden and used it for his personal loo. Are you still going to break my window?”

Hermione put down the little hippogriff statue. “No. I believe you. I apologize for Crookshanks’ poor choice of venue for his, um…well, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the elves about it. It doesn’t solve the problem of where my Kneazle is. You saw him?”

“This morning. I’m sure he’ll come home. I couldn’t be that lucky. Maybe he’s out romancing a lady Kneazle,” Lucius offered.

Hermione waved toward Snape whom she saw was still lounging at his ease sipping some unidentified green stuff with a bowl balanced on his chest. “Crookshanks romancing a female is about as likely as Snape having a blog.” Hermione made a snipping motion near her groin with her fingers.

“Ouch,” winced Lucius.

The dark wizard looked up at the combatants, momentarily caught by his name in the background chatter of their inane arguing, then he shrugged and returned to the contemplation of what Narcissa might look like in lingerie the color of his liqueur.

“What is a blog?” the blond wizard asked. “It sounds like something one finds in a swamp. Severus doesn’t mind swamps as I remember,” and Lucius tossed a secretive, crafty smile at his friend. Snape wasn’t listening so the brief glance was wasted.

“Not a bog, a blog. Never mind,” Hermione slung a long-suffering look at her new mate. “That reminds me; I am definitely getting a laptop now that there is wi-fi available in the area. It will help my research.”

Narrowed gray eyes speared brash, brown ones. “I’d better not find anyone topping your lap and I won’t ask what a ‘whyfye is, as you’ll merely stare at me as though I’m a brainless cross between a garden gnome and a puffskein. I do wish you would leave references to your Muggle culture out of any future exchanges. They do nothing to advance our discussions and only make us degenerate into futile arguments.”

Snape murmured to himself, “They are all futile arguments and incredibly boring as well.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but decided retreat was her best option and she sailed out of the study as precipitately as she had entered it.

Snape tossed off the rest of his liqueur, grabbed the last of the nuts he had been carefully culling from the dish and sat up, “I’m due home. Where is your sweet, little bride going?”

“Assembling the elves for a search, no doubt, now that she knows I don’t have her beloved vermin,” Lucius said absently, returning to their previous topic. “Hmmm, if I have even a toehold on her in a physical sense, I can make it into more. Tell Narcissa hello,” he added, his abstraction plain. Lucius’ mind was already processing the possibilities for claiming his wife’s attention. First though, he’d better unstop the catdoors in the conservatory before Hermione discovered his handiwork.

“Well, when you’ve decided your new wife won’t bolt to escape her horrific fate in your bed, you’re invited to dinner. Let us know when. By the way, where’s Draco?”

“I asked him to move into one of our other properties. I didn’t want blood all over my Aubussons before I even managed to get Hermione into bed.”

Snape winced, “I didn’t think of that problem. Sorry, that was short-sighted of me.” Lucius shrugged, but his eyes were bleak. The dark-haired wizard decided he had said enough for Lucius to think about so he rose, ate the last of his nuts while dusting a few crumbs off his detested, elaborate School Governor’s robes and stepped over to the fireplace.

“Tell Hermione soon, Lucius,” the dark-haired wizard warned. “With a temper like that, you’re on borrowed time.” Extracting a handful of floo powder, Snape disappeared into the fireplace as Lucius sat at his desk, sighing over his decision to ask Draco to live in another property. He hoped it would be a temporary measure, but it couldn’t be helped now, so he shelved his sadness for later as his mind began working on the fascinating idea Snape had propounded.

Hermione had been kissing him back that first morning when he had so thoroughly explored her fillings with his tongue. She hadn’t been interested in even walking together as far as the breakfast room and had been silent during the meal, but she had kissed him back. He could work with that.

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Moving her things to the estate had gone smoothly, mostly because the elves had helped to settle Hermione in, answering questions on where different parts of the mansion were; she wanted to give a wide berth to the area where that horrible main drawing room was. She soon learned to Apparate to the several places she needed to go including the magnificently stocked Malfoy library.

The house elves had heard of her curious efforts on behalf of their kind and a small delegation had made it very clear to Hermione that she had her work and they had theirs. Offers of freedom would be frowned upon. Hermione noticed they had clean, colorful, little tunics and she decided it was not her battle, agreeing to accept their services. She already had enough problems without helping creatures that didn’t want it.

After asking stilted permission of her husband who pointed out with exasperated amusement that it was now her library too, Hermione had commandeered several tomes from the collection to keep in her rooms. Added to the excellent selection already on her new shelves, the plethora of private library books seduced her into spending a great deal of time sequestered away, reading to her heart’s content. Hermione assumed the collection already in her room was left over from Lucius’ mother.

She was able to continue running her private company and put in some long hours researching the various requests she received. Hermione felt good about earning her own money separate from the Malfoy blah, blah billion Galleons now at her disposal. With the Malfoy library at her fingertips she didn’t need to make the trek to London and the Ministry collection unless there was some ancient archival material that had to be consulted.

In any case, for the moment any visits outside the estate had been curtailed by its master – she had to entertain herself solely on its grounds. Lucius baldly explained he didn’t trust her not to run away and while she was incensed at the cavalier treatment, she acknowledged internally that she might have tried it, indeed, she had tried it the first night.

So she now ran her business from her sitting room and balcony, sending and receiving numerous owls every day. The house elves had kindly set up a small owl cote at the side of her balcony for her messengers and cleaned it daily. With her half-Kneazle, Crookshanks, brought by the helpful elves at her request to keep her company, she was very nearly happy, or she would have been if her first intimate date with her husband weren’t sitting on her horizon like a large black toad. He had magnanimously offered her a grace period of one week before they consummated their marriage, but that time was coming nearer and nearer.

Lucius had explained that he often had to go in and out during the day on business and he didn’t expect her to appear at his rather early breakfast. After their first mumchance morning at the breakfast table, Hermione breakfasted alone and enjoyed the early morning time to wake up slowly in her luxurious surroundings and read and eat at the table.

Breakfast was always a buffet affair with numerous chafing dishes so it was very informal, while lunch was hit or miss as a meal eaten together. Lucius did require her to share the evening meal with him in his formal dining room, an occasion she found to be pleasant enough when he wasn’t correcting her usage of the multiple forks, spoons, knives, and glassware surrounding her plate. Unfortunately, those pleasant occasions were scarce until she learned to navigate the various utensils and unending social etiquette he taught her.

At her very first dinner in the formal dining room, Hermione had learned that the very rich didn’t just eat supper – they dined.

tbc...

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So - a first glimpse of Snape and Lucius as friends. Longtime friends. I'd love your thoughts on their dynamic. And Hermione isn't wasting any time making herself at home and challenging Lucius on several fronts.

Chapter pics are here:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/46054.html

Please review - pick out one item that caught your attention and mention it. It's easy! Or rate the chapter if you can't review. Thanks!!
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