A/N: So I was planning on ending it, but I had a few more requests for additional chapters. Sorry they took so long, but I had a second operation on my wrist and it made all of my updating extremely slow. Plus, I hate posting things just for the sake of posting, because it's not fair to make your eyes bleed with half-assed writing. So, I hope you enjoy! And thank you for the new readers, followers, and reviewers! :)
Hermione had no idea of the time. All she knew was that sleeping next to her daughter was akin to sharing a bed with an egg beater that had legs, one of which had firmly insinuated itself against her stomach. Turning over to avoid the leg, Hermione gasped in pain when Aniella flailed in her sleep and kicked out to the side, all without waking up.
Damn! Hermione swore inwardly when the foot landed flush against her abdomen. Shoving the duvet back she climbed out of bed and held onto the mattress, waiting for the waves of pain to subside.
Aniella immediately scooted over to take over the place her mother had previously occupied. Sprawling out her little limbs, her foot ended up right beneath Lucius' chin, the other most likely on top of his stomach. Lucius had been snoring loudly and made a single chuffing noise when five little toes grazed the underside of his face, but he soon resumed a sound sleep.
Aniella had contributed to her mum waking up, but long before that Hermione had been tossing and turning in her sleep. For the past three hours her stomach and chest felt the way it had the last time she and Ginny ordered proper Greek takeaway from a shop in London. Hermione thought she was dying until she realized that she was suffering from heartburn, and vowed to never touch another piece of lamb again. But she definitely hadn't eaten any lamb for dinner that night, and for the life of her Hermione could not figure out why her stomach was revolting against her.
Telling herself to lie back down, that the fiery sensation radiating in her chest would go away if she slept, Hermione made to get back into bed. Soon as she braced one hand against the mattress, her stomach did a flip and made her beeline to the bathroom, where she made it to the toilet in record timing.
"Oh god," she moaned into her hand after throwing up what felt like her toenails. Remembering how sick Luna had become as she watched Ginny eating her chocolate fingers, Hermione felt a surge of sympathy towards her friend.
Too bad the mere thought of those damned chocolate fingers was enough to have her dry heaving again.
The sounds of Hermione's retching reached Lucius' ears and was enough to make him roll out of bed and make his bleary-eyed way to the bathroom, where he found his wife huddled against the wall, eyes closed and her cheek pressed to the cool tiles.
"Hermione? What's wrong?" Lucius asked in a sleep-roughened voice, walking across the bathroom floor and stooping down in front of her.
Turning her head, Hermione opened one eye to peer at her bare-chested, disheveled-looking spouse who already sported scruff on his chin and had his sleek blond hair sticking up on one side.
"I feel like I'm dying," she announced dispassionately, closing her eye and nuzzling her face against the wall.
"Are you planning on dying whilst kissing the wall?"
"It's cold; it feels good," Hermione explained, gingerly turning over to touch her cheek to a fresh piece of tile, as the area she had been lying against grew too warm for comfort.
"What happened, did you have some of Aniella's chips and candyfloss?" Lucius continued, trying to make light of the situation.
"Lucius, don't...!" Hermione gasped, her eyes flying open seconds before scrambling on hands and knees to make it back over to the toilet.
Her stomach had been long emptied and there was nothing left to come up, yet it didn't stop the nasty taste from filling Hermione's mouth. Still moaning as Lucius helped her stand up once she was done, Hermione accepted the glass of water he filled from the tap and rinsed her mouth.
"Oh god, I feel awful," she croaked, resting both arms on the edge of the basin and burying her face in them. "I want to go back to sleep but I can't."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" asked Lucius, truly at a loss as to how he could help his wife.
"Yes," Hermione answered, sounding rather accusing. "You can begin by telling me how the hell I'm puking my life away while you're standing there with a healthy glow, even before the sun has thought of rising. We ate the same thing for dinner; why am I the only sick one?"
Sitting up and pushing her hair out of her eyes, Hermione glared fiercely at her other half. Lucius responded with one of his smirks, and Hermione rolled her eyes and buried her face back into the crook of her arm.
"Go away. You're too pretty for it to be so bloody early, even if your hair is sticking up."
"And you are exceptionally beautiful even when you're feeling poorly and behaving like a grouchy goblin. Now, come here," Lucius continued, reaching out and attempting to pry Hermione's arms away from her face.
"No, I need to sit like this," Hermione protested, feebly shoving his hand away. "If I move, I'll be sick again."
"No, you won't," Lucius told her. "Or I can give you whatever it was that helped Ani. Where is it?"
"Second shelf, to the right in the medicine cabinet," said Hermione, her voice still muffled as her lips were buried against her skin.
Lucius filled a glass with water from the tap and added some of the white powder to it. He held the mixture to Hermione's lips, and she slowly swallowed it down. Lucius hadn't been lying; in a few minutes the nauseated feeling was gone, or at least temporarily held at bay.
"Now, will you come here?" Lucius asked, setting down the glass and holding open his arms.
"I'm still mad at you," Hermione mumbled, crawling over and throwing both arms around his neck when he picked her up. He then carried her into the bedroom and sat on the carpeted floor opposite the bed, not wanting to wake up their slumbering daughter, who was now completely sprawled out on the huge mattress. Hermione nuzzled her face against Lucius' bicep once she was settled in his lap, inhaling his clean, masculine scent. He still slept without a pyjama top and she could feel his body heat through the thin silk of her nightie.
"I suppose that's feasible," he replied in a quiet voice. "Although perhaps another little Malfoy is the source of your discomfort. And not the one that's currently taking over our bed."
Hermione had been in the middle of letting out a wide yawn when she heard the comment about 'another little Malfoy'.
"What the hell are you on about?" she asked exhaustedly, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against Lucius' broad shoulder.
"I'm talking about the wee naughty lad, making his mum feel poorly. Shame on him."
"Lucius...were you drinking tonight? Did you sneak down to your study and down a bottle of firewhisky?"
"I've done nothing of the sort, Madam," the wizard drawled, unfurling one arm to reach down until his fingertips were at the hem of Hermione's nightie. Pushing it up past her thighs, he allowed his long fingers to settle over the expanse of her soft but flat abdomen. "I'm talking about the little one here," he finished in a whisper.
It was a good thing Hermione's back was to his chest, because she would have cuffed his ear had she noticed the way the corners of his eyes were crinkled with amusement. She didn't know if it was the late hour that was playing tricks on her ears, or if her spouse had truly gone off his rocker. Perhaps she was just sleep-deprived.
"I think I would have noticed if I was pregnant again, Lucius," Hermione tartly informed him.
"Ah, just like you did the first time?" he asked, a hint of smugness coloring his voice.
"If I had the energy, I'd pinch you."
"I would much rather prefer a kiss. Or perhaps to get back into bed; this floor isn't exactly soft on one's arse."
"Oh, Lucius!" Hermione fussed. "I can't lay down just yet. I need to sit up for a minute."
"All right, then. But if my legs go numb and I fall whilst carrying you back to bed, well, you've been warned."
Hermione giggled at the comment. Burrowing further into Lucius' arms and becoming lulled by the sound of his thumping heart, she fell asleep without realizing it. She didn't stir once when he stood up with her still in his arms (even when he cursed under his breath at the pins and needles sensation in his tailbone and calves) and carried her back to bed. He had to use one arm to awkwardly wrestle Aniella back to one side, but finally managed to situate Hermione beneath the blankets. She ended up sleeping throughout the rest of the night, only stirring awake when muted light shone into the bedroom that morning.
Yet it wasn't the dull sunshine that initially woke her up, but a pair of child-sized fingers attempting to pry open her left eye and a voice speaking in an exaggerated whisper.
"Mummy? Mummy, are you awake?"
"Ani, leave your mother alone. She needs to rest."
"But Daddy, you said Mummy throwed up last night too. Did Mummy get sick like I did? Did she have too much candyfloss?"
"Threw up, Ani, threw up, not throwed up: there's no such word. And sort of. Now are you going to tell me what you want for breakfast or shall I guess?"
"Waffles," Aniella answered after one second of pondering. "And bacon. I want bacon. Can we bring Mummy some?"
"I think your mother might prefer just a cup of tea," Lucius told his daughter with hidden amusement. "Weak tea without milk."
Meanwhile, Hermione had been feigning unconsciousness the entire time. She sort of felt guilty for not responding to her daughter's prodding, but she was completely knackered. Grateful when Lucius ushered their mini-me out of the bedroom, Hermione fell back asleep, only waking up when she heard a small rapping of something being set down next to her ear.
"Hmm?" she mumbled sleepily, opening one eye to see Lucius standing next to her.
"I thought you might like this after an entire night of retching," he announced, sitting on the edge of the bed and gesturing to the cup on the nightstand. "How are you feeling?"
"All right, but hopefully it lasts," Hermione replied, sitting up and reaching over to retrieve the cup. "Where's Ani?"
"In her bedroom, getting dressed."
"Did you pick out her clothes?"
"Oh, lovely. I'm sure she's going to come out in one of her frilliest dresses and lace tights."
"Are you still on about that?" Lucius chuckled, reaching over to graze his fingertips over Hermione's stomach. "Well, not to worry. This little one won't ruin every pair of lace tights because he'll be in trousers."
Hermione had just taken a large sip of tea and nearly choked. "You're so sure, aren't you?" she archly inquired. "How do you know for sure that I'm pregnant?"
Lucius sighed and withdrew his wand. It only took him a few seconds to perform that charm which showed that Hermione was indeed pregnant and of course, the look on his face was so smug that she hoped it would get stuck like that.
"If you've already forgotten the how, I am more than willing to show you," Lucius drawled, causing Hermione to nudge him with her knee.
"Be quiet, you fertile man. If anyone dared question your virility, they would be sadly mistaken."
"They would be hexed is more like it," Lucius grumbled, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I don't think anyone would question it, considering how you keep getting me sprogged up. But it's your own son that still calls you an old man. He's going to laugh when he hears this."
"Rude child. Just last week Draco was asking if my wand still worked, and if you were ready to turn me in for a younger model."
Hermione choked with laughter, tears flooding her eyes when she saw Lucius glowering at her. Setting her now empty teacup down, she sat up and threw both arms around his neck, pressing a kiss onto his cheek.
"You tell that little ferret that I would never trade you in," Hermione whispered into Lucius' ear. "And you tell him that your wand works just fine."
"I am not repeating that to Draco!" Lucius snapped, moving to pull out of his wife's grasp.
Still giggling, Hermione kicked free of the duvet and sheets and propelled herself into Lucius' lap, playfully nipping at his nose before kissing him. The mock frown slowly disappeared from Lucius' face and he pulled Hermione against him, deepening their kiss.
"I should go check on Aniella," Hermione mused one they'd broken apart.
"No, you should stay here and let Tipsy bring you something more substantial than tea," Lucius suggested.
"I'm not hungry," Hermione protested as something else struck her mind. "But I do know what I can use...some of that tea from Molly. But I'll pop over to Ginny first to see if she has any."
"Go on, I'll stay here with Aniella."
"Will you be alright with her?"
Lucius gave Hermione a withering glance. "Things might be difficult, but I will do my best to manage," he finally offered in a voice leaden with irony.
The thick sarcasm was not lost on his wife, and Hermione swatted him on the arm before calling him a wise-arse. She then slid off the bed in aims of a shower.
"Hello! Anyone in?" Hermione called into the Floo thirty minutes later.
She'd sent a call to Grimmauld Place and waited for a reply, not wanting to accidentally walk in and see something not meant for her eyes. A muffled cry told her to come through, and Hermione stepped through. Ginny popped into view, wearing what looked like one of Harry's old button-up flannel shirts. The shirt fell down to her thighs, which were completely bare, and she had on a pair of fluffy purple carpet slippers.
"Hello, Mummy Malfoy," Ginny greeted, her belly protruding like a mixing bowl and nudging Hermione's when she came over to pat her cheek, the same way the elder Mrs. Weasley did to them.
"Watch it, you," Hermione replied warningly. "Does your husband know that you're roaming around without any pants?"
"He sure does," Ginny answered coquettishly, fluttering her eyelashes and teasingly lifting up the hem of her shirt to bare more of her thigh. "And he doesn't have one complaint."
"I bet he doesn't," Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel like sending an eviction notice to my tenant, that's how. Or making Harry carry this child for the next few weeks."
"Yeah, Gin, sure. It sort of doesn't work that way."
"I know! Believe me, I've tried."
Ginny walked over to the sofa and eased down onto it. At her foot was a basket of what looked like baby's clothes, even more than Hermione had seen on her last visit.
"Yes, Mum sent over even more things," Ginny commented with slight aggravation when she caught Hermione eyeing the basket. "She's hoping for twins even though I told her I'm having a boy. One boy. Not two, and damned sure not three."
"What is it with your mum wanting you to have a horde of children at once? Does she want you to go grey and insane before you reach thirty?"
"Maybe. I know Fred and George made her grey long before her time. You don't think Mum's hair is still naturally red, do you?" Ginny cackled. "She's been dyeing it even before I was born, but don't you tell her I said so."
"I'm not saying anything to make her cross, especially since I'm going to need more of that tea," said Hermione.
Ginny looked at her quizzically. Utterly baffled for a moment, Hermione waited for her friend to piece everything together.
"No!" Ginny finally exclaimed."Really? Congratulations! When did you find out?"
"Last night," Hermione told her, cringing at the memory. "Aniella woke us up with a stomachache; vomited in her bed and all down the front of her nightgown. Then I became ill during the night, and I had no idea why I felt the way I did. Anyway, it was Lucius that said I was pregnant, and he did the charm soon as I woke up this morning."
"That is really wonderful, Hermione," Ginny continued in a soft voice. "I'm so happy for you. Maybe you'll have a boy this time?"
"Lucius already claims that he's going to have another son." Hermione laughed and then shook her head. "A little golden prince; another Draco. I'm still trying to remember when exactly I got pregnant."
"Probably around the time you forgot your potion," Ginny snorted. "With the way you two go at it, I'm surprised you remember at all."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the smug redhead.
"Have you eaten?" Ginny then asked, ignoring the glower on Hermione's face. "I can get Harry to make us something."
Just as Hermione was about to protest, Ginny yelled loudly enough that she wondered if her eardrums had burst. Within a few seconds Harry was standing in the doorway, dressed in a wrinkled Quidditch shirt, fumbling to put his glasses on and looking bleary-eyed as if he'd been in the middle of napping.
"What's wrong? Is it time?" he began frantically, rumpling his messy black hair while looking around. "I need to call your mum, and—"
"No!" Ginny interrupted, laughing. "No no, I'm fine."
"Blimey, Gin," Harry sighed, immediate relief showing on his face as he slumped against the doorframe. "I thought something was up with the way you yelled."
"I'm sorry I frightened you," Ginny apologized, although it was clear that the sight of her panicky husband amused her more than it should have. "We're hungry, and there's a law that says you can't leave pregnant women in a hungry state else they'll start hexing their loved ones. So can you fix us something to eat, please?"
"Sure, once my heart starts working again," he said a wry voice. "The only time I've heard you yell like that was when...oh, hey, Hermione."
"Hi, Harry," Hermione laughed. "Thank you for not finishing that sentence."
"What? Oh," Harry paused, flashing an embarrassed grin. "What do you want to eat? Chinese takeaway again? Curry?"
Ginny peered at the slightly pained expression on Hermione's face. "I'd say yes to both, but I don't know if Hermione can stand the scent. Can you do sandwiches, Hermione?"
"That's fine, thank you," Hermione replied, grateful that Ginny was appeased with a simple meal. Ginny had a point when she said that Hermione wouldn't be able to stomach the scent of the previously mention food.
"Alright," Harry told them, yawning as he walked out of the drawing room.
"Do you make it a habit to scare your husband often?" Hermione queried when she saw Ginny breaking out into laughter again.
"A little scare now and then keeps him honest," she snorted. "Besides, that was nothing. You should have seen him last night when I thought I'd felt a contraction. Poor thing fell out of bed and ran to the door— no trousers, no underpants. He'd made it all the way downstairs with my valise when he realized that I was still in bed."
"You let Harry get all the way downstairs without bothering to tell him that you were fine?"
Ginny gave a small shrug, and Hermione shook her head. Ten minutes later, Harry returned with a plate of sandwiches for the two. He'd levitated their drinks behind him and was just setting everything down on the table when he froze.
"Wait a minute..." Harry trailed off, his bright green eyes flashing intently in Hermione's direction. "Did Ginny say what I think she said?"
"Ginny said lots of things; care to elaborate on which one you're talking about?" Hermione asked.
"She said that it's the law to feed pregnant witches, emphasis on witches. Don't tell me you're..."
"Up the duff? Sprogged up? In the family way?" Ginny supplied as she helped herself to a sandwich with the most filling."Indeed she is. Poor Lucius; I bet she's working that man's wand to its core. Well, maybe just working his wand."
"Ginny!" Hermione yelped, her face growing hot as she glanced at the look of horror on Harry's also reddened face.
"I would say that it's the hormones making her like this," said Harry, looking as though he wanted to disappear right through the floor. "But—"
"But your wife was already horrid!" Hermione finished for him.
"You both love me, so shut up," Ginny calmly replied around a mouthful of sandwich. "Thank you for lunch, darling," she told Harry with mock sweetness.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," he sighed. "Hermione, let me know if you two need anything else. I'm going back to sleep. That damned Ron had me up before sunrise; needed an extra for their game this morning because one of his mates apparently went on the lash last night and is still recovering."
"Ron likes Muggle football," Ginny explained, biting off the other corner of her sandwich. "He's just like dad."
"That's right, I forgot about that," Hermione nodded. She remembered that a few years prior, Ron had taken an immense liking to Muggle football and often played with a group of men from work, some of whom were half-blood or Muggle-born and familiar with the sport. Harry sometimes joined in, but claimed that football wasn't really his sport. Still, he would join in whenever the team was short of one player.
"Well, congratulations, Hermione," Harry told her as he began making his way to the door. "I hope you give me a godson this go around."
"Thank you. Now go take your nap!"
When Hermione returned to the manor later that afternoon, she found Lucius and Aniella in the garden. The sight of her husband caused her to duck behind a tall hedge for a moment, fighting back a fit of giggles.
As expected, Aniella had put a dress—a blue tea-length one. She'd forgone tights and her legs and feet were completely bare, and Hermione cringed when she saw her daughter's toes digging into the perfectly green grass beneath them. Lucius was nearly as dressed up; he had on perfectly creased black trousers, a crisp white shirt, and Hermione's favorite burgundy brocade vest that hugged his torso in a way that made her want to snatch it off him. However, his shoes were next to him, his trouser socks neatly folded together and resting on top. He was sitting on top of a quilt that Hermione suspected had been conjured from one of his handkerchiefs, only Lucius was the only sitting on it. The blond wizard was completely barefoot and perched calmly as his daughter danced around him, chattering excitedly and doing something with his hair.
It wasn't until Hermione moved closer that she realized Aniella had been busily arranging a crown of daisies atop his head.
"Mummy!" Aniella cried when she saw Hermione approaching. She let go of the daisy crown to run to her mother, and it fell onto Lucius' shoulder, causing a few petals to come loose and rain down into his lap. "Come play with Daddy and me."
"Hello, sweetheart," said Hermione, bending down to kiss her daughter. "What are you doing to Daddy's hair?"
"Making it look pretty," Aniella answered, tugging her mum's hand and leading her to the blanket covering the huge expanse of lawn. "Auntie Luna showed me how to make daisy crowns. Daddy said that he could make one with his wand, but that's not how Auntie Luna showed me. You have to actually make the daisies into a crown; it's cheating if you use magic."
"Is that so?" Hermione asked, sitting down next to Lucius and covertly winking at him.
"Apparently so, as our daughter states," Lucius told Hermione matter-of-factly. "Aniella, why don't you make Mummy a crown?"
"Alright, but you make one, too," Aniella agreed, pressing a bunch of daisies into Lucius' hands.
Lost in her own world as she began working on Hermione's crown, Aniella completely tuned out her parents as she began weaving the flowers together.
"So...why is it you know how to make a daisy crown?" Hermione asked, smiling as she looked down at Lucius' long, elegant fingers moving over the delicate green stalks.
"Well, after Aniella showed me, it wasn't too hard," Lucius replied, gesturing to the three crowns he'd already made that were sitting in a pile next to Hermione's hand. "The most work was conjuring up the daisies and then convincing Ani that peacocks don't care for wearing things on their heads when she wanted to give them one."
"Now she definitely sounds like she's been hanging around Luna," Hermione laughed. She then reclined back on her elbows and looked up at the fluffy clouds scattered throughout a clear blue sky. "Whose idea was it to come out here?"
"Mine, believe it or not," Lucius chuckled. "It just dawned on me that I've always walked through my garden instead of actually taking the time to sit in it. Aniella was the one who said we should have a picnic, and we ate lunch out here."
"That sounds nice," Hermione smiled. "I can't believe that you've lived here all this time and never stopped to smell the roses, so to speak."
Lucius let out a small scoff. "If my father had seen me lingering in the garden, he'd have thrashed me with his walking stick. But enough about that. How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright. I didn't become ill at Ginny's after lunch, so that's good."
"Mummy, why were you sick this morning?" Aniella asked suddenly, even though her brown eyes were still focused on her half-finished daisy crown.
"Because..." Hermione trailed off, not wanting to lie to her daughter but also not sure how to bring up the subject of her pregnancy.
"Because, your mum is going to give you a little brother," Lucius easily cut in, "and mummies sometimes feel sick when they're going to have a baby."
Aniella's little brown furrowed as she took a few minutes to absorb this new bit of information. She was still finishing her mother's crown, while Hermione began praying that her daughter wouldn't pop the 'where do babies come from' question.
"Good," Aniella stated firmly, to her parents' surprise. "I'd rather a little brother than a little sister. I can boss him around like I do Teddy."
Hermione exhaled in relief while Lucius sniggered; they were in silent agreement about their child's domineering ways, something Lucius claimed came from Hermione.
"Finished!" Aniella announced after the last daisy had been tied in place. Supporting herself by grabbing onto Lucius' shoulder, Aniella stood up and moved in front of her mother, placing the daisy crown atop her thick curls. "Oh, Mummy, you look lovely."
"Thank you, darling," said Hermione, kissing the top of Aniella's head when she plopped down into her lap. She then reached for one of the crowns Lucius had made and slipped it on top of Aniella's slightly disheveled blonde curls. "And now you look even lovelier. And we both match Daddy!"
Aniella giggled when her eyes drifted to the flowers adorning her father's head. He then dramatically tossed his long hair, purely to amuse Aniella, who laughed loudly at his antics.
The three lingered in the garden until Aniella announced that she was hungry. A brief glance at Lucius' timepiece showed that it was nearly dinnertime. The evening was still mild and pleasant, and Hermione suggested that they eat in the solarium. Once her belly was full, Aniella rested her head down right at the table, her eyelids threatening to close at any moment. She even abandoned her usual ritual of begging to stay up just 'a little bit longer' after her bath.
"What did you two do all afternoon?" Hermione asked incredulously once Aniella was tucked into bed and fast asleep. "Before I got out a 'goodnight' she was already snoring."
"Some of everything," Lucius replied to Hermione's first question, "in addition to a fair bit of running about. Then she missed her nap, claiming that she needed to stay with me so I wouldn't get lonely because you'd gone to visit Ginevra."
"You know, that child could sell honey to a bee," Hermione groaned. "So I take it she was fine all day? No more upset stomach?"
"Not at all. I knew Aniella was back to normal when she practically inhaled her lunch and then asked for ice cream."
"Oh yes, she was definitely feeling better," Hermione mused. She then craned her neck to look out the window. "It's such a nice night; I wasn't ready to come in yet, to be honest."
"We can always go back out," Lucius told her. "Care for a little late night romp in the moonlight?"
"Oh, you!" Hermione fussed in feigned exasperation, slapping him in the chest. Lucius had removed his vest and was clad in his white shirt, its sleeves rolled up and the top button undone. She'd been eyeing the bare patch of skin beneath his jaw all evening, and Lucius pretended not to notice. "Well...why are you still sitting? Come on!"
Laughing as she ran out of the solarium and into the dimly lit garden, Hermione shrieked in delight when she realized that Lucius was chasing behind her. It took little effort for the wizard to catch her, and when he did he picked her up.
"Loser's forfeit," he announced, carrying Hermione over to the transfigured quilt that was still spread out over the grass. "So you have to do whatever I ask."
"Is that right?" Hermione asked challengingly as she was set down.
"Yes," Lucius answered, gently urging Hermione to lie flat before stretching out alongside her.
Daisy remnants were still scattered about, and most of them ended up in Lucius and Hermione's hair. They didn't notice, however, as they were soon engaged with thoroughly kissing one another.
"Lucius, are we really going to shag in the garden?" Hermione asked when she felt his hands pushing her dress up past her thighs.
"No, we're going to make love in the garden, if that's alright with you," he murmured, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of his wife's knickers and slowly pulling them down her legs. Lucius then moved atop Hermione, easing her thighs apart with his narrow hips.
Hermione had no idea why Lucius' comment sent a faint blush to her cheeks; they had been intimate more times over the years than she could possibly count. Perhaps because they were in a new place and out in the open, but it wasn't as if anyone could see them. Besides, Malfoy Manor was in a remote area and there were no other homes surrounding them. But even if they had been, the overgrown hedges were high enough that they concealed practically the entire property.
Shivering slightly when a cool breeze grazed over her bare legs, Hermione soon gave her undivided attention to the wizard hovering over her.
"Thank you for wearing this," Lucius murmured as one hand went to Hermione's hip, untying her sash and tugging down enough of her dress and bra to expose her breasts to the night air. He immediately descended upon them, and the feel of his warm tongue slowly laving her sensitive nipples caused her to cry out.
Slipping both arms around his neck, Hermione let her head fall to the side when Lucius moved his lips higher, kissing a path along her collarbones. "You know full well I didn't put this on with your naughty intentions in mind," she chided. However, she was rendered silent as his touch turned her brain to mush, and Hermione forgot that she was half naked and splayed out like a butterfly beneath the dark, moonless sky.
Long fingers soon tickled the seam of her womanhood before delving further to seek her warm entrance. Hermione was already aroused and arched her hips, wanting to feel more, but Lucius was clearly in the mood to take his time. Wriggling with impatience when his touch remained light enough to tease instead of satisfy, Hermione took the initiative to reach down and grab onto Lucius' wrist, pressing his hand more firmly against her core.
"Demanding wench," Lucius muttered, bowing his head to brush his lips against Hermione's.
"You mean witch," she amended.
"No, I meant what I said the first time," he stated, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking his fingers. "Wench." Slipping his now adequately saliva-dampened fingers between Hermione's legs, he began delicately teasing her clitoris into a hardened nub. Taking her to the edge a few times, Lucius continued tapering off his touch until Hermione grew impatient and reached up to fist his hair in one hand, giving it a sound tug.
The blond miscreant merely chuckled but he did massage the sensitized nub with more vigor until she finally broke apart with a sharp cry. Right at Hermione's moment of release, Lucius had slanted his mouth over hers, deeply drinking in every last of her gasps and moans. When her climax tapered off, he finished with a few light, sipping kisses.
"Lout," Hermione uttered once she was able to catch her breath, falling limply onto the quilt. Her devilish husband kissed her forehead and then moved from her side to kneel upright between her legs.
"Manners, Madam Malfoy," he drawled, unbuttoning his trousers and pushing them and his underwear down to his thighs. Hooking his arms beneath Hermione's knees, he pulled her closer and used his weight to press her legs back. He was hard enough to guide himself into her without his hands, and let out a deep groan when he was engulfed by her slick heat.
Hermione was also unable to remain quiet when her spouse's thick shaft squeezed its way into her body. Almost immediately she felt tendrils of pleasure shooting up her spine. It only took a few subtle movements on Lucius' part to reduce his wife to a keening, trembling state.
"You look damnably tempting, lying beneath me like this," Lucius crooned into Hermione's ear once she had come down from her second orgasm. He meant it too; the moon had decided to come out and cast enough pale light down into the garden. Hermione almost looked as if she were glowing, and her curls were mussed and splayed about her head. Her pretty face was flush and slackened from pleasure, and her wrap dress had fallen around her body, baring just enough of her creamy skin to tease him.
Slowly rolling his hips forward and holding for a moment, he watched as the muscles in Hermione's stomach tensed, enjoying the way she arched her back and tilted her head, baring the slender column of her neck. His next gentle thrust caused a little furrow between her brows, and Hermione instinctively raised her hips to meet it.
This little rendezvous in the garden had been unexpected yet welcomed. Part of Lucius wanted to thrust hard and fast until they both reached completion, but the rest of him wanted to lay there for a length of time, purely to bask in the feel of his wife's body wrapped around him.
Hermione felt just as frantic, but was not ready for things to end just yet. Somehow she managed to help Lucius completely get rid of his white shirt, and it was abandoned to some spot on the quilt. Sighing when his bare chest was against her breasts, Hermione wrapped both arms around him and kneaded and massaged the firm sinews of his back. They were still intimately joined yet that didn't stop her from running her fingers through Lucius' hair and planting hot, openmouthed kisses into the crook of his neck.
Curling her legs around Lucius' calves and undulating her hips against his was all the encouragement he needed to begin moving again. Having already reached the pinnacle of climax but doing all he could to keep himself in check, Lucius nearly went over almost immediately when Hermione lifted her knees to his side while digging her fingers into his lower back.
Ploughing into her at a deeper, more intense angle made the witch come within seconds. Hermione's pulsating walls literally pulled Lucius' own release from him, and he forcefully spilled into her while letting out a deep groan that became lost to the side of her face. Too spent to do more than move to the side so as not to crush his wife, Lucius waited until he caught his breath to kiss her again.
"That was..." Hermione trailed off, sighing happily when Lucius leaned over her and began kissing a path from between her breasts down to her stomach.
"Whenever you'd like more, just say the word," Lucius murmured against her navel.
"I'd like for you could Apparate us to bed; literally, right into bed," Hermione told him.
"As Madam wishes."
Seconds after gathering their clothing, Lucius held Hermione around the waist and Apparated them inside the manor, and on top of their bed, as promised.