Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Captive	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 27088 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from J K Rowling's fantastic books or films, I'm just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 12
- 13
A/N: I want to thank you all for making it to the end. I hope you have enjoyed the story. Happy New Year everyone! Dx

Hermione smiled nervously as she studied Ginny’s outfit to take her mind off her own for a few minutes. Her friend was looking beautiful in a velvet robe the colour of holly berries; the plant embroidered around the scoop neck and the bottom of the skirt in glistening gold thread. Her long fiery red hair was tamed and twisted into an elegant chignon and dotted with garnet-studded pins that held a sprig of the plant in place at the back.
Around her neck and in her ears brilliant yellow gold shone, more large garnets invisibly suspended at the ends. Over the dress, she wore a matching cloak with a buttonhole consisting of a large sprig of holly and white feathers above her right breast. The fur-trimmed hood was currently down, although it would be raised once the ceremony started.
‘You two are completely mad, you do know that, don’t you?’ Ginny told her as she put a slick of matching colour on her lips and admired herself in the mirror, batting her eyelids to see the effect of the shimmery pale eyeshadow she had put on them.
‘Why’s that?’ Hermione asked.
Ginny snorted with laughter. ‘Only you and Lucius would decide to get married outside, during the coldest month of the year, in the middle of a bloody blizzard.’
‘It’s not a blizzard. It’s not even really snowing out there at the moment, and if it does it’ll only be a few flakes. It’ll look good,’ Hermione pointed out with a smile as she looked out the window at the thick snow that blanketed the entire garden, glistening in the weak winter sunlight. ‘I don’t know what you’re worried about, anyway. We’re only outside for the ceremony itself and then we’re all heading back into the house for the reception. The area is being heated so it shouldn’t be cold . . . and you’ve got that cloak.’
Ginny shook her head, looking fondly at her friend. ‘I have no idea how much all of this is costing.’
‘Lucius can afford it without even batting an eyelid,’ Hermione said blithely, remembering the eighty-Galleon bottle of wine that wasn’t even his best drinkable bottle. She still had no idea how much the one they would be sharing that evening, once they were finally alone, had cost him, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was worth it.
She looked critically at her own reflection in the mirror, trying to convince herself that it was just nerves that were making her think she looked awful. Now she was on the verge of her wedding she wasn’t convinced the colour of her dress didn’t make her look washed out and sallow.
‘Do you think I’ve made a mistake?’ she asked, suddenly worried. Ginny was right, getting married outdoors in December was a terrible idea. She had no idea why Lucius had agreed to it — had no idea why Lucius had asked her to marry him in the first place.
Ginny joined her and put her arms around her friend, understanding that nerves were getting the better of Hermione.
‘Of course not. I was only joking with you,’ she reassured her. ‘It’s going to be amazing — something people will talk about for months and remember for years. It’s a bold choice, just like your marriage to Lucius is a bold choice. I think we need a glass of champagne to calm us down a bit. I’ll go and see if I can find one, shall I?’
Hermione gripped her hand. ‘Please don’t go. My parents should be up in a minute and Dad promised he’d bring some. He’ll know how nervous I am; I’m good at putting up a confident front, that’s all. I just wish I didn’t feel so sick.’
‘That’s just nerves,’ Ginny said. ‘I was sick twice before my wedding, remember, so you’re doing much better than me. I couldn’t hold a glass or anything because I was shaking so much.’
Hermione smoothed down her robe, the diamante-covered ice-white velvet glittering as she did so, and took a deep breath, trying to quell the nausea.
‘I think I’ve made a real mistake with this robe. The colour isn’t right at all. It doesn’t suit me. It makes me look washed out and old. Maybe I should find something else to wear—’
Ginny snorted. ‘Calm down! The dress is perfect, Hermione. It looks lovely on you; absolutely stunning, even. You just look a bit pale because you’re nervous. Here.’ Ginny picked up a brush and dabbed a little colour onto Hermione’s cheeks, then added a slick of the lip colour she was wearing. She smiled. ‘See, that’s given you a bit more colour. You look dazzling, Hermione. Lucius is going to fall in love with you all over again when he sees you.’
There was a knock on the door. Ginny went to answer it, leaving Hermione still staring in the mirror. She had to admit the makeup helped a little but she still didn’t look like the perfect bride for handsome Lucius.
‘How’s my little Minnie Mouse?’ her dad asked, kissing her on the cheek as he hugged her. He smiled happily. ‘You look beautiful, love, really—’ His words failed him as he continued to smile at her, nodding appreciatively. He held up a bottle. ‘Got a little something for us. Have you got the glasses, love?’ he asked Hermione’s mother.
The woman opened her copious handbag and carefully pulled out four champagne flutes, which she put on the bedside cabinet as her husband opened the bottle. She hugged Hermione tightly, whispering in her ear about how resplendent she looked and how gorgeous the colour of her dress was.
‘I’m really nervous,’ Hermione admitted once they had all received their glasses of champagne. She was pleased to note that she could hold hers without spilling any as they made a toast. At least she wasn’t as bad as Ginny had been on her wedding day.
‘What made you decide to hold the wedding outside?’ her mother asked as they sat together on the bed. Ginny and Hermione’s father were talking quietly to one side.
Hermione looked at her, suddenly stricken. ‘Do you think I’ve made a mistake as well?’
‘I’ve already told you I was joking about that,’ Ginny reminded her as she rolled her eyes.
Her mother patted Hermione’s hand soothingly. ‘Of course not, love. That’s not what I meant at all. I think it’s a really lovely idea, very unusual. I just wondered what inspired it, that’s all.’
Hermione realised that her mother was trying to get her to talk to take her mind off the upcoming ceremony, trying her hardest to calm her down. Hermione took a sip of her champagne and smiled gratefully at her.
‘The lake and its magnificent fountain were one of the first things I saw when I came here to talk to Lucius about the job in the library. It was part of an original design by Capability Brown, along with the rose garden, and I fell in love with it instantly. I’ve always spent a lot of my free time out there, enjoying the sound of the water, and I just knew it would be the perfect place to get married.
‘I know to most people summer would probably seem like a better time to do it, but I love the winter: the clean, crisp white snow and the dark green of the holly, the deep red of the berries, the creamy mistletoe. It gave me the perfect colour scheme for the wedding.
‘You know I only wanted a small wedding, something quiet and relaxed, but Lucius wanted something bigger, wanted everyone to see us get married and he wasn’t backing down on that, however hard I tried to talk him round. That’s when I realised that it needn’t just be the colour scheme. Winter could be the time for the wedding, too.
‘It was a bit cheeky of me, but I knew Lucius always holds a party between Christmas and New Year to which he invites the world and his wife. I decided that if he really wanted a big wedding I would hijack the party — kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He wasn’t completely sold on the idea initially, but once I pointed out that it was either that or an intimate wedding at the Register Office he soon warmed to it, especially when I mentioned my idea of holding it in front of the fountain.
‘It was an unusual idea for the time of year and it appealed to him and gave him a challenge to achieve. So here we are now, on New Years’ Eve, and hopefully, it’s all come together perfectly. Either that or you’re all going to freeze to death.’
‘We’ve already been down to the lake and spoken to Lucius, haven’t we, love?’ Hermione’s father said. Her mother nodded in agreement. ‘It’s lovely and warm down there. He’s done a marvellous job of getting the place set up.’
‘I’m looking forward to seeing it,’ Ginny admitted. ‘I’ve been here with Hermione all day so haven’t seen any of the preparations, although I’ve seen Harry and Ron out of the window with piles of holly, moving about the place. I saw George with a load of mistletoe, too,’ she warned Hermione.
‘What’s the time?’ Hermione asked, a nervous roiling in her stomach again.
‘Twenty to three,’ her father said, looking at his watch. ‘You’ve got another five minutes.’
‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ Hermione wailed.
‘No, you’re not,’ her mother said soothingly as Ginny smiled at her sympathetically, understanding completely how Hermione was feeling. ‘It’s time to check that you’ve got everything and that you’re ready to go.’ She looked at Ginny. ‘Ginny?’
‘I’m ready,’ Ginny confirmed. ‘I’ve got everything, my makeup’s done, my cloak is on and my flowers are over there. I’m just waiting for Hermione.’
Hermione got up from the bed and looked in the mirror again. ‘My hair’s a mess,’ she said disconsolately. ‘I mean, it’s always a mess but today—’
‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ Hermione’s mother assured her as she came up behind her and looked at her in the mirror. She touched the carefully styled hair, moving the small flowers and the string of diamante woven through it a little, not because it needed doing but because she knew it would calm Hermione.
‘I haven’t put my jewellery on,’ Hermione said as she suddenly realised, her voice high and squeaky with panic. ‘Can you help me, Mum?’
She knew her hands were too shaky this close to the wedding to be able to fiddle with the delicate clasp of the pieces she had chosen — the match to Ginny’s set but in diamond and platinum.
‘Calm down, of course I will.’ Her mother’s voice was gentle and soothing as she put the necklace around Hermione’s throat and fastened it and Ginny placed the earrings in her ears. ‘There, it’s done. You look sublime.’ She gave Hermione a hug and a final kiss. ‘I’ll see you downstairs shortly.’
Hermione smiled at herself in the mirror as her mother and Ginny dropped back and her father came to place the white fur-edged, diamante-covered velvet cloak over her shoulders. He kissed her cheek.
‘Lucius is a lucky man,’ he told her quietly, and he drew the hood up to cover her hair as Hermione fastened the cloak.
‘I’m scared, Dad,’ she told him honestly.
‘What of? There’s nothing to be scared about.’
‘What if Lucius has changed his mind?’ Hermione whispered.
Her father chuckled quietly. ‘He’s down there wondering the same thing about you, you know. He’s not going to change his mind. You’re not going to change your mind. We’re going to go down there and you and Lucius are going to get married — and a very good-looking couple you’ll make, too!’
He checked himself in the mirror, straightening the holly and feather buttonhole that he wore on his dark grey suit.
Ginny came forward holding Hermione’s bouquet as well as her own. She now had her own hood up, ready to leave. Hermione took the bouquet from her, smiling as she inspected the intricate mix of the dark holly with its blood-red berries and snow-white hellebore intertwined with green ivy, a few white feathers, and another glistening strand of diamante. The impressive bundle was tied together with a large bow the same colour as Ginny’s dress.
Ginny gripped her arm and gave it a squeeze. ‘Are you ready?’ she asked excitedly.
Hermione took a deep breath, pushed down the nausea, plastered a smile on her face, and nodded determinedly.
‘I’m ready,’ she announced.

The rarely used ballroom was lit with hundreds of candles, glinting off the mirrors that lined the whole of one wall and creating the effect of a room twice the size, glittering with stars. The entire room was decorated with large swags of ice white and deep red silk, and holly, ivy and hellebore floral displays were everywhere in the house, increasing the wintery feeling throughout.
Hermione rested her head on Lucius’ shoulder as they danced.
‘I really do love you, you know,’ she told him contentedly.
‘And I love you, too, Hermione. Today was absolutely unbelievable, better than I could ever have hoped for. You were incredible, so beautiful . . . and that outfit—’
‘Paid for with your money,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘Today has cost an absolute fortune, although I will admit it has way exceeded every expectation I had about how it would be. Thank you so much for providing me with such a magnificent wedding.’
‘You deserve it, my love,’ Lucius said with a smile before he kissed her. ‘You’ve just agreed to put up with me for the next million years; so giving you a decent celebration was the least I could do.’
Sounding wistful, Hermione said, ‘Only a million? I was hoping for at least three times that many.’
‘Oh, I’m sure we can renew our vows before we get anywhere near close to that,’ Lucius promised. ‘Assuming you haven’t got fed up with me by that time.’
‘Never going to happen,’ Hermione assured him. ‘I told you, I will only leave here if you send me away.’
‘Well, that’s not happening either. I intend to keep you chained up here, churning out babies for the next thirty-odd years. I reckon we could have well over a dozen children if we have one every couple of years, more if we get twins. I know they run in the family although I think it’s been a couple of hundred years since the Malfoys last had them.’
Hermione chuckled. ‘I am not having a baby every two years, Lucius. In fact, I might not want to have one for a while. I’m going to go back to work at the Ministry of Magic and I won’t have time for children, not when I’ve got house-elves to save.’
‘Do you have to go back to work?’ Lucius sounded a touch petulant as he pulled her closer and squeezed her.
‘No, I don’t. But I’d like to if possible. Having said that, there isn’t a job there at the moment so it’s a bit of a moot point,’ Hermione pointed out.
Lucius chuckled lecherously. ‘Good. That’ll give me a chance to convince you that you don’t really want to go back to work.’
‘Good luck with that. It might work but I wouldn’t hold your breath,’ Hermione said.
They continued dancing for a while and spent several minutes kissing under some mistletoe that appeared in the vicinity.
‘Did you hear that Draco and Astoria have finally got engaged?’ Lucius asked, sounding pleased. ‘Apparently, he asked her on Christmas Day . . . and the stupid girl said yes.’
‘She’s going to make him a very good wife. They’re going to be as happy as we are,’ Hermione prophesied, then she chuckled. ‘She slapped him when he called me his wicked stepmother earlier on.’
‘Did he really call you that?’ Lucius asked with a grin.
Hermione nodded and sighed, then grinned, too. ‘He certainly did. Having said that, he also told me that stepmothers have to have illicit sex with their stepsons at every available opportunity. He got a much harder whack for that one, I can tell you.’
‘Where on earth did he get that idea?’ Lucius asked.
‘I think he’s spending too much time with his Muggle friends surfing porn on the internet. Apparently, that’s a big trend, stepmother and –son.’
‘Is it indeed? Well, I hope you’re not thinking of taking him up on his offer,’ Lucius said drily.
Hermione snorted. ‘After everything I did to try to keep away from him? Not very likely, is it?’
‘Ah, but you’re a married woman now and your tastes might have changed,’ Lucius pointed out.
‘Not that much. Anyway, I don’t think he’d want to risk Astoria finding out. I think she’d hex his balls off if she thought he was doing anything with anyone else.’
Lucius considered for a moment. ‘Yes, she can be quite stern with him, although I think it’s doing him the world of good, actually. He needs someone to take him firmly in hand.’
‘As do you,’ Hermione said smugly.
Lucius gave a small frown. ‘No, I don’t—’
‘Oh, I think you do.’
Hermione cut him off by brushing her hand surreptitiously over the front of his trousers. She stopped and squeezed gently, her eyes glittering wickedly.
Lucius coughed, his voice slightly hoarser when he next spoke. ‘You might be right. In fact, yes, I think you’re absolutely right, Hermione.’
‘This has been a lovely party, but I think I’m ready for bed now,’ Hermione said.
‘Oh gods, yes. Let’s go,’ Lucius told her keenly.
Hermione looked momentarily unsure. ‘You don’t think everyone will mind?’
‘Who cares? It’s our house, our wedding, our party. Everyone will just leave or go to bed when they’ve had enough — or when the alcohol runs out, whichever happens first. They don’t need us here and we’ve done all the toasts and stuff. It’s time for us to enjoy that champagne I’ve been saving.’
Lucius took her hand and led her across the dance floor and out of the ballroom. No one said anything to them, although a few people waved and smiled as they passed.
‘I’d forgotten about that,’ Hermione said disingenuously. ‘So how much was this bottle?’
‘Somewhere in the region of one hundred and fifty Galleons,’ Lucius replied uncaringly.
He smiled when he saw her shocked face. Hermione had stopped walking on the first step of the stairs to stare at him in complete astonishment.
He chuckled, then told her, ‘A small price to pay to spend the perfect evening with the most beautiful woman in the world. Champagne and sex — I honestly can’t think of anything better.’
‘Neither can I,’ Hermione admitted. ‘I’ve wanted to make love with you for hours. You look so sexy today.’
‘Maybe we should do a little detour via the minstrel’s gallery, then,’ Lucius suggested a wicked gleam in his eye.
Hermione shook her head. ‘There are far too many people around. Let’s go to bed.’
Lucius sighed heavily as if being put upon. ‘This is my house, you know, Hermione. I should be able to do what I want, where I want, whenever I want.’
‘And you can, as long as we’re alone in the house,’ Hermione told him soothingly. ‘But when we have a house full of guests we need to be a bit more dignified. Come on. You know you won’t be sorry.’
Lucius pouted and looked like he was going to refuse but Hermione knew he wouldn’t.
‘Time for bed!’ he announced, loudly enough for those in the vicinity to hear as he picked Hermione up, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her upstairs to the applause and catcalls of the guests as they realised what he was doing.
‘I’m going to kill you for this, Lucius,’ Hermione growled, her face scarlet with embarrassment.
‘No, you won’t,’ he replied with certainty. ‘You might try, but you won’t succeed. I shall win you over before that happens. You love me too much to kill me.’
Hermione sighed. ‘Sad but true, alas.’
‘Don’t worry, it’ll be worth it,’ Lucius told her, using his wand to open their bedroom door and carrying her inside before dropping her gently onto the bed. ‘I love you, Mrs Malfoy.’
Hermione smiled up at him, her arms reaching around his neck to pull him down to her.
‘I love you, too, Mr Malfoy.’
- 12
- 13
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