• 1-The Prude
• 2-Mrs. Malfoy
• 3-Honeymoon
• 4-Reflection
• 5-home sweet home
• 6-Confusing Thoughts
• 7-Afternoon Break
• 8-Instruction
• 9-Chapter 9

Six months after the marriage of Lucius and Hermione

Fundraisers were boring.  Lucius hated fundraisers. He felt like prey, hell, he was prey. He knew he wasn’t invited for the sheer pleasure of his presence.  Oh, he was pleasant enough but his wife pointed out, in a not so delicate way, that despite his social pleasantness he wasn’t as adept at disguising his derision as he believed.  Apparently almost everything he said was laced with a snide undertone that was offending and discomfiting fellow guests.  No, he wasn’t under any illusions that he had been inviting simply because he was wealthy, and for other, more political, reasons.  The Ministry wanted them to be seen, wanted to flaunt their success in matching the two of them.

“Good evening, Mr. Malfoy,” a familiar voice shrilled from his left.  He turned his head and stared down his nose at the round little abomination of pink tweed at his side.

“Ah, Madame Umbridge,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.  Hermione would have given him a sharp nudge to the ribs with her elbow had he been speaking to anyone else but he suspected she would encourage him in this instance.

“Your….wife….is quite the social butterfly,” she said with a distinct disgust that curled her nose. 

“She enjoys fundraisers and donating my galleons to various causes,” he said, his brow furrowed.  Umbridge hated his wife and made no secret about it.

“No doubt she gets a thrill out of it.  An opportunity for vengeance on a pure blood,” she snorted.

“No, my wife is not a vengeful creature usually; she doesn’t donate extravagantly and always speaks with me beforehand. She simply enjoys helping a worthy cause,” he said, defending his young bride. 

“My word! You are smitten with the girl!” Umbridge said with clear surprise and horror raising her voice yet another annoying octave.  Lucius look across the room at the witch in question.  She looked lovely in the simple brown dress and heels.  It hugged her curves and flattered her coloring, bringing out the flush in her cheeks.  She was speaking with a couple he recognized but couldn’t quite recall their name. As if she felt his eyes on her she turned her head in his direction and a soft smile lifted her lips. A genuine affectionate smile that was just for him. 

She excused herself and came towards him, still smiling as she took her place at his side, sliding one arm around his waist and leaning in to him.  It was an improper display of intimacy in a public venue, at least for a man of Lucius’s background, but he was so mesmerized by her easy affection and the glow of happiness that radiated from her when she saw him that he couldn’t bring himself to step away.

“Good evening, Umbridge,” Hermione said.  Her voice was sickeningly sweet and fairly dripping with venom.  And he could have sworn that she said “Umbitch” instead of Umbridge. 

“Ms. Granger,” came the snide response.

“Actually, It’s Mrs. Malfoy now, but you knew that I am certain,” Hermione said.  “Lucius, Darling, I am getting a bit sleepy, I think that I am ready to go home now,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. 

“Of course, I will get our cloaks,” he said quietly, enjoying the feel of her at his side.  “Madame Umbridge, I hope you will enjoy your evening.”

“You appear rather content for a man forced to wed a woman he doesn’t love,” she said sharply.  “Have a nice night.”  She snapped before turning and waddling away in her low heeled pink shoes.

“Ugh, I loathe her!” Hermione said through gritted teeth. 

“Are you feeling alright?”  Lucius asked softly.  They hadn’t told anyone yet, but they had fulfilled their marriage contract. Hermione was carrying his child.

“I’m fine, just sleepy, Lucius,” she said, smiling softly.  “It’s perfectly normal.”

He seemed appeased for the moment and went to collect their cloaks.  He had been fussing over her like an old mother hen since they discovered her pregnancy.  It was sweet, but annoying as well.  Within moments her husband returned with their cloaks they were off for home.

It was well before sunrise when Lucius began his slow climb from slumber.  The moon still shone brightly in the sky and his entire household remained abed.  All was silent aside from the steady tick-tock of the clock on the mantle and the steady breathing of the witch slumbering beside him.  With his eyes closed he breathed deeply, capturing the soft, citrusy scent of her shampoo and the light fragrance of the lotion she applied to her skin every night before she went to bed.  Somehow in the six months since they had wed he had come to associate these scents with comfort, with home. Hermione had somehow become his touchstone; she was his gateway to a new life, a guiding light out of a dark and disturbing past. 

She had done what many had tried to do in the past and failed.  With relentless determination she had wriggled beneath his skin and dug in, rooting herself in his life and in his very soul so deeply that she could not be removed.  With her generous spirit and her endless passion she had taught him to feel, she had taught him to give, how to find personal satisfaction in pleasing another.  She had taught him that bloodlines really didn’t matter and that even the worst offenses can be forgiven if one learns from their mistakes. 

 In her he had found peace, comfort and a passion beyond his wildest imagination.  He also found vulnerability.  A woman who he would die for, a feeling so incredible that he would fight for it with everything he had.  She taught him the errors of his past better than prison, probation, or any torture he had underwent at the hands of the Dark Lord ever could have.  He would gladly kneel at the feet of the little witch and give her the moon and the stars if she so desired.  He was putty in her soft and generous hands.

She whimpered softly in her sleep and shifted towards him, snuggling against him with her back to his front, as if she somehow sensed that he was awake and musing.  He wrapped his arm around her and held her tight, burying his face in her hair.  Her body heat seeped into him, warming him as he clutched her close.  His body stirred and she responded by arching her bottom against his growing erection, a soft, sleepy moan disrupting the silence.  Her hand covered his where it rested against her stomach and pushed it lower.  She raised one leg, giving him access to the warmth between her thighs.

  Her flesh was warm, swollen and moist as his fingers delved into the folds of her sex, exploring gently and thoroughly as her breathing turned ragged. 

It was no longer necessary for them to ‘engage’ in order to meet the requirements of their marriage contract, but it didn’t matter.  A side effect that the ministry hadn’t foreseen was that they would develop a genuine desire for one another.  No one could have foreseen the eventual outcome of the pairing, in a million years no one could have predicted the reality of the Malfoy’s marriage.  They were…happy. 

Happy was an understatement for the feelings racing through Lucius’s body as he shifted into a better position behind his wife.  He slid his knee between her legs and with his leg bent he was able to support hers, holding her open for his touch.  With deft fingers he manipulated her clit as he probed her opening with his cock.  He couldn’t gain deep penetration at his current angle, but it didn’t matter.  He just needed his wife. Something about the soft, sleepy warmth of her body and the pre-dawn ramblings of his mind had come together to create a desperate need to possess her. 

He moved gently, thrusting as deep as he could, never ceasing in the circling, tweaking motion of his fingers.  Neither could claim that their release was earth shattering as the sun began to rise and gray the skies outside their windows. But it was comforting somehow, it was enough to ease the sleepy desires that had stirred and satisfy their need for connection.  As they settled, their breathing returning to normal, their eyelids heavy as sleep came to claim them once more. Lucius stroked the still flat surface of his wife’s stomach, where their secret rested, gently.

“It isn’t true,” he whispered softly against the back of her neck.

“Hmmm?”  she questioned sleepily.

“What Umbridge said at the charity event—it isn’t true,” he said, his voice quiet and raspy.  “I do.”

“Do what?” she asked, yawning and snuggling deeper beneath the covers and into Lucius’s warmth.

“I—love you.  I am happy…with you. It isn’t a beginning I would have chosen for us…but I do…I do love you,” he stammered, his cheeks heating and his heart racing as he waited.  He couldn’t see the soft smile adorning her lips or feel the rush of intense heat that raced down her spine in response, instead she laid her hand on top of his and squeezed his fingers lightly.

“I know, Lucius,” she said softly.  “I love you, too.”  He relaxed behind her, his body going limp as his arm tightened around her.  She nearly laughed at the relieved sigh that tickled her ear.

“You do?”  he managed to croak.

“Of course I do, Darling,” she said quietly.  “I never had any doubts that we would come to this in time.” Which wasn’t necessarily true but she wanted Lucius to believe that she had always had faith in his ability to be redeemed.  She would never voice the doubts that had once plagued her. “Go back to sleep, it’s early yet for such a discussion.”

“Alright then,” he whispered, brushing the softest of kisses against the back of her neck.  For the first time in his life Lucius Malfoy drifted off to sleep a happy man, content with his life and the knowledge that he loved and was loved in return.

AN:  You guys have been so supportive and great about this random fic that I am horrified to end it this way! Therefore, upon my return from California I will revisit, revise and add to this story….