Blood and Vows | By : MJurjevic Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 38654 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter Fandom, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
**************
Lucius entered the inner drawing room to find a very agitated Draco; his son was pacing and had a flushed, vexed look.
Draco halted and gave his father a terse stare. "Have you seen, Astoria? She's not upstairs."
He must have just missed her. Lucius blinked and took a slow inhale, adding, "Earlier."
"She's not at the Ministry. Mother said she thought she'd still be home, but—" Draco broke off, raising his voice, "What the bloody hell do you two think you're doing?"
Pokerfaced, Lucius asked calmly, "Who?"
"You and mother. And, well, Longbottom. What exactly is going on?"
Considering his son's agitated state, Lucius' eyelashes fluttered as he exhaled in relief and offered, "Son, why don't you have a seat. And though it's a tad early, let's have a whisky together, shall we?"
"I don't want a drink!" But even as he yelled this, Draco collapsed on the sofa, only to then jerkily sit forward, rubbing his temple and forehead, as if to calm himself.
Lucius slowly poured two single-shots and placed one in front of Draco on the coffee table before sitting down in the Chesterfield chair on the side, making himself comfortable as he scrutinized his son silently.
Draco reached out and took a sip, wiped his lips, contemplating something.
Lucius waited patiently, preparing himself to be ready and counter a variety of accusations.
In a low strained voice, he heard Draco saying, "I don't understand what's going on. I don't understand what you and mother are up to... And why the fuck you didn't consult me before involving yourself with Longbottom and the Ministry...."
Draco snapped his head to Lucius. "What exactly is your game, Father?"
"Game? There is no game, Draco. Longbottom made a generous offer to your mother and me, actually, for our entire family, and we—perhaps all too impulsively, but that's your mother—accepted it. It seems time is of the essence. Narcissa wishes to announce our legitimate, sanctioned entrepreneurship at the charity ball. She's impatient for the Malfoy name to have different connotations associated with it... than those in the past."
Draco's face flushed several shades of red as he whispered fiercely, "So you swear this isn't some ruse then? You and your cronies, Rookwood, Runcorn—you're not planning some covert activities? Some secret, ultimate agenda? The Knights of Walpurgis shall rise again in full glory and power, shall they not, Father? What better way than a do-gooder dupe like Longbottom to be used as a decoy—a perfect facade to cover infiltrating the Ministry once more, but this time insidiously deeprooted, once and for always. Shouldn't let what Voldemort taught us go to waste, eh?"
Lucius felt his anger seeping throughout his body, but only the wild gleam in Draco's eyes triggered the notion that his son's provocative words were being caused by something other than what he was spouting. He took a long deep breath and held Draco's challenging stare. Seconds went by before he responded in a neutral yet decisive tone, "Regarding this newly agreed upon venture, my intention, our intention is what it is—a joint venture, entailing shipping, importing and exporting for the Ministry. Transparent, legitimate, legal, and all sources indicate it will be quite a lucrative enterprise. The past, Draco, is the past."
Draco blinked hard. "History won't repeat itself?"
"Regarding any risk to the welfare of our family, no. Something has occurred to me. And I truly wish for a new chapter in all of our lives, devoid of war references."
"Good luck with that." Draco huffed. "What has happened? And why the fuck would Neville Longbottom be so good-willed towards us, the Malfoys?"
Lucius sardonically quipped, "Why the fuck indeed?"
Unexpectedly, Lucius heard Draco's voice break, his son gave a dry sob and could be seen trembling.
"What is it, Draco?"
"Pansy," he whispered fiercely. "She said Astoria—" Draco pressed his eyes with the heel of his hands, as if in agony.
"What did Parkinson say?" demanded Lucius, only to feel a twist of pain in his core as he watched his son break down in front of him.
Several seconds passed until Draco could catch his breath and wipe his tears and nose, collecting himself. "Astoria. I need to find Astoria."
"What has Parkinson to do with Astoria? "
"I don't know. Yet. Exactly. She— Pansy said she knew things about Astoria that I didn't... "
"What things? "
He shook his head, frustrated. "She said she'll tell me if I give her a gift... some jewellry, or such... " Draco huffed derisively. "Or fuck her... or both." He jumped up and began to pace again. "Or maybe not—it'll depend on her mood."
"When did she say this to you?"
"Just now, at the Ministry. She said we could discuss things later over a drink." Draco gave a desperate look around. "Astoria's not at the Ministry or upstairs—"
"Have you tried the nursery?"
Draco rushed out to check the conservatory, and Lucius took a sip, deep in thought, and waited until Draco returned, now more seemingly clear-headed but still visibly agitated.
"Why don't we return to the Ministry together? Perhaps Astoria is there, and I believe I need to put the Malfoy seal on selected documents which your mother should have secured by now from the Regulations department. Why don't you and Astoria go somewhere to relax and spend some quality time alone. What say you, son?"
Draco gave a terse nod, and apparating to the Ministry, they made their way to the Department where they found none other than Narcissa, Neville, Astoria, and a handful of various clerks from the Department for the Regulations and Control of Magical Properties mingling.
"Astoria," called Draco desperately, beelining toward her and taking her by the arm. "I—we—"
"Draco, are we on for that drink tonight? A group of us are planning a get together." It was Pansy, and before Draco could utter a word, she had unabashedly taken him by the arm to the side.
Lucius and Astoria watched them intently, as they slowly walked towards Narcissa and the others who were loudly and vivaciously discussing business matters.
Lucius abruptly halted, saying in a low and quiet voice, "Parkinson's threatened to reveal certain things... about you. Perhaps, us."
"What?" whispered Astoria.
"Blackmail. Which I do not take kindly to," he uttered, his features hardening deeper.
Turning to her, Lucius whispered fiercely, "No matter what Draco says or does, plead innocence. We never happened. The Mewling Quim never happened. I need time. Time to find Parkinson alone—she's owed a drink, I believe."
There was an odd look about Lucius' features, as Draco broke from Pansy only to guide Astoria away from Lucius and the others, calling back to the others amiably, "My wife and I have a scheduled appointment; we'll try to get back soon. Carry on and catch us up later."
And with further to-do, leaving Lucius to explain their haste and distract the others, Draco guided Astoria to a Disapparation point, where they whisked themselves away.
******
Draco and Astoria sat under a large leafy tree on the lawn of Blackheath hill in the expansive Greenwich Park. As he leaned back against its broad trunk, he held her to him, allowing her to relax against his chest, her head on his shoulder. He kissed her hair and sighed deeply, tilting his back again against the treetrunk. She gave him an affectionate squeeze, leaving an arm curled around his waist, holding onto him firmly.
The raindrops were falling steadily around them and the charm they had cast to shield them from the rainfall; the sheet of constant drizzle caused a Monetesque effect on Draco and Astoria's view of their surroundings and the Thames flowing below them with the skyline of London proper across in the distance.
"Thank you for bringing me here. It's lovely," she uttered softly.
"You like wet, cold and muddy? Something new about you that I never knew."
A flutter went through Astoria's chest, hearing a sharp bitterness in Draco's voice. "I like just being with you, wherever that may be. What's new about that?" She felt his body grow tenser and tenser as she relaxed against him. "And that's what warming and drying charms are for, let alone Shield Charms. No one can see or hear us. We're invisible," she chided playfully in hope to soothe his sour disposition, but to no avail. "Draco, what's wrong?"
She felt his chest heave repeatedly in deep breaths instead of answering.
Several seconds went by before he said, "I like coming here. Away from it all... the Ministry of Magic. Just to sit here amongst the Muggles, coming to and fro, oblivious. I love the view." He sniffed. "Did you know that a Malfoy conceded part of his hunting grounds to the Royal Palace of Placentia?"
"Whatever for?"
Draco grew still. The soft gentle rainfall could be heard.
"It was rumoured... for love," he said quietly. "He was so smitten, his wish to please so great, he gave up one of the many things Malfoys value so much."
A thrill went through Astoria, and Draco paused before asking, "You remember our private vows to one another?"
"Of course."
"The only one thing that I asked of you, the only thing that was irreconcilable, unacceptable, unforgiveable for me... is if you would ever... change... give up practicing magic."
Astoria looked up at Draco as he continued, "Anything else goes. Your happiness. Just want your happiness."
"Draco... " She kissed him on the lips. "I am happy. With you. Always."
He asked with an odd look on his face, "With the House of Malfoy? And all that it entails?"
Astoria could not appease his troubled countenance further so bluntly asked, "What is wrong?"
"Is there anything...? I had a curious conversation with Pansy today. She implied..."
"What?" Taking in Draco's taciturn look, she offered, "She seems very unhappy, even though she seems to have so much to be content about."
Draco gave her another odd look. "Funny... That's what she said about you."
Astoria was equally at a lost. All of a sudden, Draco's closeness, his shared intimacies between him and Parkinson could no longer be kept ignored in a box, intentionally avoided. She asked, "Do you want her?" And even as she asked, she felt her own guilt and need boiling up, and irrespective of this, she wanted, needed Draco. Needed his touch.
"What?"
"Pansy."
"What do you mean?"
Astoria gave him a steady look. "Do you want her? Time to time? Still? More than me? Instead of me?"
"No. God, no," he croaked. Draco's eyes heatedly searched hers. She felt herself becoming wet. "No." Their lips met, and he repeated, "No." Drawing his head back, he gazed at her, and his breath caught as he felt her hand strum up and down his chest only to go lower and linger around his groin. It was carnal need that fueled them on, and he eagerly responded to her touch, helping her climb onto and straddle him, shuffling, opening and pulling clothing aside, wriggling and releasing his cock from his underpants and trousers to allow her to lower herself and shield it within her.
They slowly began to rock and grasped each other as they fucked in sync, both whispering pleasurably, "Yes…" at different intervals of friction and flow.
Astoria felt his hands pressing her buttocks, then clutching with steel grips, encouraging her to ride him hard and release herself as soon as possible. Her body was only too ready; she was wet and clenching him; her rocking and clutching his cock tighter and deeper within caused her toes to quickly begin to curl. As soon as she cried out his name, Draco thrust deeper and probed her to the hilt, at first roughly, but then in regulated rhythm as he felt her come.
Her soft groans and clinging intensified again as she began to continue to greet his movements with equal, measured carnal rhythm, undulating, her vaginal muscles squeezing him even tighter in intensifying contractions, both of them fucking deliriously. In his pre-orgasmic bliss, Draco forgot all else and pounded her pussy upward in lost oblivion until she shook on top of him, clinging to him for life. Her cry of orgasm triggered him over the edge, and he felt his hot seed released inside her.
*************
Astoria and Draco arrived home at the Manor, only to find that there was an apparent social gathering going on.
"There you two are—we have guests as you can see. An impromptu celebration of sorts," purred Narcissa.
"Celebration?" asked Draco as Narcissa guided them both to the main parlour.
As Astoria and Draco blinked, taking in the odd assortment of guests present, Narcissa informed them, "Celebrating our success, the Department for the Regulations and Control of Magical Properties contract, our Ministry-approved venture! See, some of the other Ministry heads have joined us."
There was a roar of approval about something from some of the guests that erupted; it drew their gaze to one group that was centred around Neville Longbottom.
"Oh, yes, more news, Neville’s wife is currently at St Mungo’s—they sent him away, as they’ll induce labour tomorrow. So… we’re just getting a head start of the ball tomorrow evening all the festive energy abounding. I have a feeling it will be a much grander event than imagined due to a number of unexpected announcements."
"Draco! Astoria!"
They turned, both dreading the female’s voice they recognized.
They saw Pansy Parkinson heading straight towards them from the terrace, followed by Lucius and Albert Runcorn. Runcorn latched onto Draco and pulled him towards the Longbottom group, saying, "Congratulations are in order, don’t you think? Neville has been wanting to speak to you all evening."
Feeling overwhelmingly exhausted, Astoria sat on a settee and watched keenly as Pansy and Runcorn briefly chatted with Draco and others only to then hover closely around Neville. She noted that Parkinson seemed to slink into Neville as she handed him a refreshed cocktail. They all seemed caught up in gregarious bantering, and Astoria was relieved that Parkinson seemed intent on keeping the father-to-be entertained with her charms, although something allusive niggled her.
Lucius slowly sat down beside her and randomly gazed around the room, randomly giving a forced smile to others when eyes met his. But his words were directed at her.
"How are you?"
"Tired."
"Tired, but beautiful, as always. You have an alluring glow about you, my dear. My advice, go to bed. Take Draco with you." He smirked. "I have guests to attend to and beguile."
Their eyes met, and Astoria felt herself blush at the look he gave her.
Suddenly, the gaggle of guests around the room sporadically let out laughter here and there, momentarily claiming their attention. Then, Parkinson’s specific sharp cackle caused Astoria to snap a glance at her.
She huffed, instantly irritated. "It’s odd. Pansy seems very much taken with Neville—"
"Jealous are you?"
"Lucius!"
Lucius sniffed. "Her intentions have been redirected, let us say."
Astoria blinked and slowly turned to him, and as calmly as possible she asked, "What do you mean redirected?"
"Just that. Your worries are over."
As she held his gaze, his silver-grey eyes glinted with a secret, Astoria felt her chest tighten. He couldn't have risked using an Unspeakable! "What did you do to her?" She glanced at the balcony where Lucius had entered with Pansy and Albert.
"You and Runcorn? Lucius, answer me!"
"Just I. But not just her. Albert, as well." Lucius sniffed a deeper sniff. "They both needed adjustments to their memories."
"Lucius?" Her heart was pounding in her chest.
"He has no recollection of last night with you, nor she. And her interests have been redirected towards someone who needs them."
"You didn't?"
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I did what needed to be done. To protect you, my dear."
"Lucius!"
He turned to her and saw not reproach but anxiety and worry. Concern for me...
Astoria could feel her eyes watering up as she said, "If... If anyone suspects that their personality, their behaviour has been altered—if an Auror were to cast a Priori Incantatem and find out that you used an Unspeakable, Lucius!" A solitaire tear rolled down her cheek. And as they held each other's gaze, she began to weep silently in earnest.
"You'd be imprisoned... Azkaban for life... "
"Calm yourself." He wiped her tears gently, pausing to contemplate something before he attentively helped her up, calling, "Here, Draco!"
Draco crossed over directly. "What's wrong, Father?"
"Your wife—take Astoria up to retire for the evening. Can't you seen she's fatigued? And you're not much better. Too much of a good thing this afternoon, I take it?" He gave a sly look to his son. "I'll make excuses for you both, just go before a scene is made."
Not refusing, Draco discreetly escorted Astoria upstairs. Once inside their chamber, they both collapsed onto their bed, Draco registering, "You've been crying. What did that bastard father of mine say to upset you?"
"Nothing. No, Draco—he only mentioned that Pansy might say something inappropriate to me and to not let her unnerve me."
Draco took her in his arms and didn't speak for several seconds before saying, "Parkinson seems oddly keen on Longbottom this evening, barely aware of anyone else."
Astoria's mind raced about the consequences of Lucius' actions of Imperioing someone and Draco's reactions to it. She felt a wave of anxiety wash over her and impulsively snuggled deeper into his arms as if asking for extra protection. "Hold me, Draco. Just hold me."
She thanked all the powers that be that he lovingly did so, for it seemed that Draco was in a similar state of vulnerable need.
Entwined in each others arms, they both fell into a deep sleep.
*********
Meanwhile, in the parlour rooms below them, Lucius threw his hawk-like gaze on Parkinson and Runcorn from time to time, contemplating back and forth between whether another dosage of the Imperio curse would indeed be needed and when he would have Astoria again.
For I feel an urgent need to be one with her as never before.
* L *
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