Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Some Blond Fool	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 46886 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Author�s Note:� Hi everyone.�
Sorry this took so long!� Good
news: Some Blonde Fool won 2^nd place for best mystery at the
Dramione Awards!� Thanks to my nominators
and to everyone who voted for me, it�s much appreciated.� As a reward, I give you smut�and let me tell
you, this scene really took over the chapter, but I doubt you�ll mind.

October 6, 11 pm

�� Draco felt like he wasn�t
himself.� It was mainly because he had
been tickling Hermione Granger for the better part of twenty minutes, listening
to her laugh and feeling her squirm agreeably against him.� And the two combined put the biggest,
goofiest smile on his face.� He probably
looked like an idiot.

�� He paused, allowing her to catch her
breath.� Hermione wiped tears out of her
eyes and gave him a playful shove.

�� Now that you know where I�m
ticklish, you�re going to use it against me all the time, aren�t you?�

�� I might.�

�� Are you ticklish?�

�� If I am I wouldn�t be stupid enough
to tell you,� he responded with a smirk.

�� She smiled wolfishly at him.� �I�ll find out, Malfoy.�

�� Is that a threat?� he asked,
leaning in closer and letting her feel the weight of his body against hers.

�� Absolutely,� she replied.� One of her legs twined around the back of his
and pulled him closer.

�� Mm�I think I like your threats.�

�� I know I like yours.�

�� His lips lifted in a real smile
before he lowered them to brush against hers.�
It really was ridiculous how horny she could make him, and on such short
notice.� He could go from not thinking
about sex at all to wanting to bend her over and fuck her silly in ten
seconds.� Of course, he would be lying if
he tried to make himself believe that the instigation of the tickling had no
ultimate sexual goal.� Hermione wasn�t
complaining; he�d noticed how her nipples peaked under her shirt under the
onslaught of his hands.

�� She was so responsive, and her
tongue, grappling gamely with his, felt so good.� He�d always been a fan of a good snog.� He supposed he shouldn�t be surprised that Hermione
did this well, because she did everything well.�
Or most everything � he had heard that she was appallingly bad at
flying.� Strange; she was very skilled at
riding his broomstick�

�� It was thoughts like that that made
him grateful no one could hear his inner monologue.� It was about time to turn it off, anyway,
because her hot little hands were sliding beneath his shirt.� Her nails grazed over his skin and that was
the only stimulation he needed to go from partial arousal to full-on
trouser-testing attention.

�� Mm,� she breathed against his ear,
her hands sliding down to cup his backside, �I�ve been thinking about you all
week.�

�� Yeah?� What were you thinking about?�

�� She blushed endearingly but it
didn�t put a dent in her boldness.�
�About how I�d much rather have your cock inside me than be teaching
silly�� she paused and kissed his neck, �little�� another kiss, right over his
pulse, �dunderheads�� now it was an open-mouthed suck that would probably leave
a mark, �how to brew Pepper-Up.�

�� He looked down at her, a little
amazed.� He�d never pictured her as the
rampantly horny type.� Draco knew well
enough that she had a libido, but one that overruled academics?� The possibility was interesting�and hot.

�� I was going to send you a dirty
letter, but I didn�t want to interfere with your studies,� she confessed with a
smile that was slightly devious.

�� You should have.�� He slid his hand under her shirt and swept it
off.� There was far too much clothing in
his way right now.� Once the shirt was
gone he couldn�t be bothered to reach under her and unhook her bra; he tugged
the fabric of the cups down, freeing her dusky, hardened nipples from their
prison.� He was going to have to do the
same for his cock soon�

�� Yes, especially since she purred
appreciatively when his tongue teased around the little bud and then swept over
it rhythmically.� He�d figured out that
she liked that, a quick flick of the tongue or the rub of his palm against the
tips of her nipples.� After lavishing
some attention upon them, he lifted his head to look at her.

�� Maybe,� he said suggestively, �we
should play professor and student.�

�� She smiled, more perceptive to his
idea than he thought she would be.� �But
who is the professor and who is the student?�

�� That�s easy.� Which one of us is really a professor?�

�� Me.�
That means I�m in charge?�

�� Exactly.� You�re the Potions Mistress�and I�m the Head
Boy who hasn�t done his homework.�

�� Hermione�s hand slithered between
them and rubbed over the bulge in his trousers.�
He breathed in sharply, enjoying the tingle of pleasure that coursed
through him.

�� You are definitely not a boy,� she
grinned, �but I think I like this idea.�

�� So did he � a lot.� His cock was throbbing.� �Then let�s go to your classroom,� he
whispered, his tongue tracing the curve of her ear.� �It�s late.�
No one will interrupt.�

�� She raised an eyebrow at him.� �Have you done this before?�

�� He raised an eyebrow right
back.� �Maybe.�

�� Hermione smiled.� �I�ll warn you, Mr. Malfoy�I�m not an easy
professor.�

�� Bad boys need tough professors.�

�� Do they?�� She wiggled out from under him, her breasts
still hanging out of her bra, and moved toward her dresser.� She opened a drawer, rooted around for a
moment, and then said, �Aha!� in a triumphant tone.� She turned and threw something at him.

�� He caught it.� Much to his surprise, it was a school
tie.� Her old one, probably, since it was
Gryffindor colors.� Now he had to wonder
if she had done this before.

�� I don�t want to be a Gryffindor,�
he said, pulling a face.

�� Hermione turned and put her hands on
her hips. ��Either you�re a Gryffindor or
you�re going home with blue balls.�

�� Ooh, she was tough.� �I�m a
Gryffindor, then,� he relented, and slipped the tie around his neck, knotting
it reflexively.� The things he would do
to be buried inside her�he shook his head.�
Draco watched as Hermione discarded her bra and pants and then pulled on
her robe.� It was quite sexy to know that
she was bare beneath it, save her knickers.�
When she was finished, she walked over to him and pulled him up with a
gentle tug to the tie.

�� Let�s go, Head Boy.�

�� She�d led him through the darkened
castle corridors like that, the end of the tie wrapped around her hand.� He didn�t feel embarrassed or emasculated in
spite of the fact that she more or less hand him on a leash.� He�d given her consent and he knew the payoff
would be good.� Slytherins were
Slytherins; power play excited them no matter if they were the master or the
servant.

�� The Potions lab wasn�t far.� It was a bit cheerier than it had been under
Snape�s reign, but the smell was the same.�
Fire and ingredients and heated metal mingled; the scent triggered his
memories of school.� Hermione released
the tie and shut the door.� As she did, a
few candles lit around the cavernous room.

�� Please take a seat, Mr. Malfoy,�
she said, walking toward the front and standing before the desk.� He hid a smirk as he slid into one of the
chairs.� Draco suspected that he was
simultaneously giving her permission to partake in an area of sex-play that had
been off limits with Weasley, and catering to the bossy, dominant little bitch
living inside her that sometimes needed to get out.� He didn�t think he was going to mind unleashing
her.

�� You know why I gave you detention,
correct?� she asked.

�� Yes, Professor,� he answered, doing
his best remorseful-student-that-was-full-of-shit voice.� �I didn�t hand in my essay.�

�� And why is that?�

�� It was quidditch, Professor.� I�m captain of the team and I didn�t have
time--�

�� The other quidditch players managed
to hand theirs in, Mr. Malfoy,� she cut him off.� �That isn�t an excuse.�� Hermione walked forward, wand in hand.� �I think you�ve become lazy.� It�s your seventh year, you�re Head Boy,
you�ve already taken your NEWTs�you�re complacent.� You think no one would dare to fail you this
close to graduation.�

�� Oh, she was really pouring it on,
wasn�t she?� He�d meet her every step of
the way.� �No, Professor, I�I just really
didn�t have time to do it.�

�� Then you should have come to me and
asked for an extension.� If you had a
good reason, I would have given you an extra day.� Too late now, though.�� She leaned on one of the desks.� �I�m afraid you�ll be receiving a zero for
this assignment.�

�� He didn�t have to dig deep to find
the horror necessary to react to a zero grade.�
He was an overachiever, just like her, and even the thought of failing
so spectacularly had the power to unsettle him.�
Fear of failure was ingrained in him, courtesy of his father, though it
had only ever pushed him to do better.

�� Professor, please!� That will drop my grade to��

�� To Acceptable.� Still passing, Mr. Malfoy.� Though, if I remember correctly, you were
hoping to enroll in Auror training and they won�t take you without an O or E in
Potions.�

�� Was she channeling Snape?� If she was, she was a much more attractive
and tantalizing version.� �It�s just one
essay!� There must be some way I can make
up for it!�

�� If you make just one mistake as an
Auror, Mr. Malfoy, people die.� You can�t
make up for that.� I can�t allow you to
enter into the profession if you aren�t capable of doing what you need to do
when you need to do it.�

�� She was good.� He was actually starting to feel a bubble of
anxiety in his gut, even though he�d never wanted to be an Auror and he�d never
gotten a failing grade on a test or paper in his life.� Not even sixth year, and that was something.

�� Professor, it�s my dream to be an
Auror.� I never wanted to be anything
else.� I can�t be anything else.� Please, give me a chance to make this
up.� I�ll do detention every day for the
rest of the school year, if that�s what you want.� Please.�

�� She tilted her head to the side,
contemplating.� �That may work.�

�� Oh, thank you, Professor, thank
you!� I promise, I won�t disappoint you,�
he said earnestly.

�� I hope, for your sake, that you
won�t.� Come here, Mr. Malfoy.�

�� He stood up, unable to resist
looking into her eyes for a moment.� She
was enjoying this.� The look in her
honeyed eyes reminded his erection that this was all protracted foreplay and a
fresh swell of blood hardened him painfully.�
Sweet Merlin, he had to get these trousers off, and soon.� He drew even with her, knowing that his
advantage in height did nothing to mute the power he�d given her.

�� Come closer, Mr. Malfoy.� I don�t bite.�

�� He stepped closer, wondering what
approach she was going to take.� He could
go for a few whacks across the arse in the guise of discipline, but he doubted
she was quite there yet.� This was new
territory for her.� Depending how this
went, it wouldn�t be new for long.

�� I�ve seen how you look at me,
Draco.�

�� His head jerked up.� �I�I�m sorry?�

�� I know you look at my arse when I
bend over.� And my breasts, when I check
your potions.� Do you like my body?�

�� A faint streak of possessiveness hit
him � there had better not be any
horny seventh years looking at her breasts when she checked their potions.� Her arse, either.� That was his.�
But back to the task at hand � she had asked him if he liked her body.

�� Yes, Professor,� he whispered.� A resounding yes.

�� Is that why you didn�t do your
essay?� You were too busy fantasizing
about me?�

�� No!� he protested.� Then, shamefully, ��Yes.�

�� Do you touch yourself when you
think about me?�

�� He could have let his cock answer
that one; it twitched in response to her words.�
She would want to hear it out loud, though; at least he would, if their
positions were reversed.� And they were
definitely going to be reversed in the near future.

�� Yes.�

�� She reached out and took hold of his
belt.� He experienced a moment of
surprise that was more real than fake.�
The more he let himself slip into the role of the student, the hotter
this became�

�� I want to see you, Mr. Malfoy.� I want to see how hard you get when you think
about me.�� Her hands were undoing his
belt, working on his fly�oh, God, if a pretty young Professor had been removing
his pants at age 17�and thank goodness she was removing them, because he was
beginning to think that the restriction of his arousal might do permanent
damage.

�� Words could not express how much
better it felt when his trousers eased off.�
He sighed when her hand extracted him from his boxers, stroking up and
down his length.

�� I don�t think you�ll disappoint me,
Draco,� she said, a smug smile on her face.�
�What a naughty young man you are��

�� He might love this woman.� Really, he might.� She released his cock and turned; he didn�t
hold back the groan that the absence of her touch evoked.� It was quieted, however, when she pivoted at
the desk and opened her robe.� His eyes
drank in her bare skin, her peaked and darkened nipples, and the pink flush
that glowed on her cheeks and was starting to creep down her chest.� Slowly, she divested herself of her
knickers.� At last, she was gloriously,
gloriously nude, the large black robe hanging off her shoulders and framing her
feminine shape.� She beckoned with her
index finger.

�� Come here, Mr. Malfoy.� Your detention starts now.�

�� Oh, this was like bad porn, but he
loved it.� He stepped forward, leaving
his trousers behind in a pool of fabric.�
She hoisted herself up onto the edge of the desk, parting her creamy
thighs.� He could see how wet she was,
and he�d barely touched her.

�� Do you think you can please me?�
she challenged.

�� He nodded.

�� Then get on your knees.�

�� Draco controlled the knee-jerk
reaction of pride; a 17 year old would be down almost as soon as his sexy
professor ordered it.� Draco Malfoy, Head
(Gryffindor) Boy, wouldn�t have any reservations.� He just had to elbow aside Draco Malfoy, 25, Slytherin,
genetically programmed for hubris.� That
wasn�t too hard to do when he thought about tasting her arousal and readying
her for a thorough fucking.� He sank to
his knees, looking up at her.

�� Her eyes betrayed faint surprise;
she�d expected a protest.� Then they
warmed with approval.� �Make me come, Mr.
Malfoy, and then we�ll discuss how to make up for your failing grade in more detail.�

�� He didn�t need to be told
twice.� He leaned in, pressing his face
to the juncture of her thighs.� She
smelled so good.� He dipped his tongue
between the folds of her labia, tracing up and down, parting them.� So wet already�he wouldn�t tease her.� Seventeen year olds didn�t know how to tease,
anyway.

�� He found her clit, swollen and
sensitive, and bathed it with the tip of his tongue.� It was time to find out what she liked by
trial and error.� Circles�she was purring
softly, stimulating her nipple with her fingers.� Good, but not great.� Up and down next; that was better, because
she moaned and he felt a surge of wetness against his chin.� Side to side was about even.� Direct pressure�he pressed his tongue against
the pleasure button, reveling in the way she gasped and jerked and seemed
almost to want to escape him and for him to keep doing it at the same
time.� She�d probably like this, too�

�� He sealed his lips about the bundle
of nerves and sucked.� Her hips
bucked.� He loved it when he was right.

�� Oh God yes, Draco!� she moaned.

�� He had his method.� She liked just about everything, though she
might be a bit too sensitive for the heavy pressure.� Smiling into her pussy, he ate her out like
his life (or his future career) depended on it.

�� Hermione�s reactions were padding
his ego; in the space of minutes she was quivering against his treatment.� Her heels were digging into his back.� She was breathing hard, her breasts rising
and falling as she drew air in and expelled it in dirty entreaties.

�� Ohhh�fuck yes�Draco�that�s right�!�

�� He wanted to put his fingers inside
her.� He knew what happened when that
other spot within her was teased.� She�d
come apart.� She�d scream.� Well, if he wanted to atone for the failing
grade, he�d best start with the most intense orgasm possible � even if his
school-aged self wouldn�t have known what a G-spot was if he met one in a dark
alley�

�� Without warning, he slid two fingers
into her slick passage.� She spasmed and
cried out at the pleasurable invasion.�
He didn�t let up, tonguing her clit ruthlessly as he delved into her,
searching for that place the drove her insane.�
Draco knew he�d found it when her feet dug into him hard enough to
bruise.

�� Oh, yes.� That was working.� Her pussy was tightening around his fingers,
a trickle of moisture sliding down his palm.�
She was very close.� The
temptation to tease, to bring her to the edge and then back down again, was
awful.� But he�d promised he
wouldn�t.� Besides, in this game,
turnabout was fair play and he really didn�t want her to retaliate.� He was so aroused that his balls were
throbbing, warning him that he�d best get off soon or he�d be in for a world of
misery.

�� Draco gave her what she needed,
pressing his tongue against her clit in hard, quick swipes while he stroked over
her spot.� She screamed, her hands
working into his hair and pulling.�
Bugger, that hurt, but it was worth it; her body was trembling, her
insides clenching about his fingers.� It
would be his cock soon.� The thought made
him moan against her; the aforementioned organ twitched between his thighs.� The vibrations wrung another intense spasm
out of her, accompanied by a few more gasping keens.

�� A long minute later, she flopped
down on top of the desk breathing as if she�d just run a marathon.� He lifted his mouth from her slowly, followed
by his fingers.� His knees were a bit
stiff as he rose; that definitely wasn�t a position he was used to.� Grinning, he draped himself over her and
licked his fingers as she recovered.

�� When at last her eyes refocused, he
asked, �Was that good, Professor?�� He
couldn�t quite manage to keep the gloating out of his voice.� He knew it had been damn good.

�� That was,� she panted, �you
receive�an Outstanding�in cunnilingus.�

�� He couldn�t help it; he laughed.

�� Unfortunately,� she went on, �that
is not an area you�re tested on�in Auror training�unless your boss is a�very smart
woman.�

�� Like you?� he said, still smiling.

�� Like me.�� She stretched beneath him, making sure to
brush some very sensitive areas.� �You�ve
made some definite progress toward raising your grade.� I think you�ve earned back a point.�

�� A point?� he protested.� �I think that deserves at least ten.�

�� Five.�

�� Seven�

�� Five, or it�s none at all.�

�� Okay.� Five,� he nodded.� The grin had not left his face.� �What else can I do to earn points,
Professor?�

�� Her fingers trailed over his lips,
which were pink and still moist with her juices.� �You can turn me around and fuck me
stupid.� Another orgasm like that, Mr.
Malfoy, and you�ll have your ten points.�

�� She couldn�t contain a small squeal
of surprise when he physically lifted her off the desk.� Then he set her on her feet, spun her, and
pressed her down with a gentle hand in the middle of her back.� She braced her forearms on the scarred wood,
curling her fingers beneath the far lip.�
She knew she was in for a rough ride.

�� Once he�d taken care of the rest of
his clothes, Draco stroked his hands over her taut little bottom.� He wanted to smack it just once to see his
red handprint blooming there, but that could wait for another day.� His eyes feasted on the sight of her: her
pert backside angled up toward him, the little pucker of muscle that he might
enjoy one day if she let him, the lips of her sex wet and swollen and waiting
to be filled by him�oh, Merlin, he couldn�t wait any longer.

�� He sheathed himself inside her with
one measured jab of his hips.� God!� Every nerve ending along his penis fired at
once, sending a very, very pleasurable signal to his brain that made him
shudder against her.� She was hot and tight
and perfect.� Her hand rose to grip his
wrist.

�� Fuck me, Draco.�

�� He exhaled.� �Yes, Professor Granger.�� He pulled back and thrust in again, biting
his lip at the feeling of her slick friction.�
She seemed to want it hard and fast; he was going to have to figure out
how to do that without coming too soon.�
She probably wouldn�t appreciate him stopping and casting a stamina
charm.� Willpower it was, then.

�� First he tried to think of something
else while he rocked his hips against her.�
It didn�t work.� The lovely
suction of her insides overpowered it, as did the feel and sound of his balls
impacting her mons.� Certainly the image
of his cock disappearing inside of her over and over and her low, throaty moans
didn�t help.� Fuck.� Okay, well, he�d just have to make her come
quickly and hope he�d hold out.

�� Hold on,� he said gruffly as he
took hold of her hips.� She barely had
enough time to grab the side of the desk before he slammed into her to the
hilt.� The sound of her cry was still
echoing around the classroom when he did it again.� Once he found a hard rhythm, gritting his
teeth against the rising pleasure, he reached around her and found her clit.

�� Now he did tease her, easing on and
off of the center of her pleasure.� She
was moaning and gasping, half out of ecstasy and half out of frustration.� Her palm slapped down on the desk and the
sound made him start slightly even though he�d seen her do it.

�� Dracoooo!� she groaned.� It was as much a warning as an entreaty.

�� I�m not going to last if you--�

�� Shut up and do it!�

�� Well.� She was in charge, after all.� He took a deep breath and had at her as hard
as he could, plunging in and out in the same breath while his hand pressed
emphatically against her center.�
Speaking of breath, that was becoming more and more difficult to
catch.� Pleasure was pooling in his
loins, expanding, drawing his testicles near to his body.

�� He felt her go rigid and then
another magnificent scream burst out of her.�
She erupted into a flurry of contractions around his questing cock.� His pleasure spiked into ecstasy and he knew
he was crying out, too, as she wrung his seed from him.

�� Oh, God.� Oh, hell.�
He had to brace himself over her, hands against the desk, to make sure
his legs didn�t give out.� At this volume
they could wake the entire castle and probably some of the dead.� Thank goodness for silencing charms.� Wait, had either of them remembered to cast
one?� No�but they were in the dungeons,
nobody would hear.

�� Oh, Merlin!� Hermione exalted,
boneless against the desk. ��Ten points
to Slytherin�Gryffindor�whatever house you�re in!�

�� Mm,� he groaned, still inside her,
�I think that�s a good start.� �

October 7, 9 am

�� Lucius woke slowly and blissfully,
floating out of sleep without the aid of any alarm or spell.� It was nice, save for the fact that he was
alone in his bed, draped across it diagonally with one leg sticking out of the covers.� There were two kind of people in the world,
he reflected; those who preferred to sleep alone, and those who couldn�t sleep without a warm bed-mate.� He had never realized how much he leaned
toward the second until he spent nearly three years with naught but a pillow for
company.

�� He supposed he just liked the feel
of someone being there.� He didn�t mind
being alone, now, but before he�d found that his own company left a lot to be
desired.� Even if he had been remarkably
closed off to his wife, he had always found comfort in the mere fact that she
was there.� It was the same with his
son.� If only he had been smart enough to
show it�

�� Lucius blew out a breath and
untangled himself from the blanket.� He
could run through every �if only� in the book and it wouldn�t change anything,
so it was best not to bother.� Things
were what they were.� He was lucky he was
alive and free.� Many men had made better
decisions than him and still ended up dead.

�� He stood and stretched.� He�d come out of football last night mostly
unscathed, though he did have a bruise on his knee from an over-competitive opponent.� Some of the men played like it was life and
death resting on the next goal and he found that to be incredibly ridiculous.� Then again, he wouldn�t mind if pick-up
football was the thing in life that most concerned him; it meant that
everything else was as it should be.� He
ought to envy those men.� Nevertheless,
he still found it rather difficult to envy a muggle.

�� The Lucius of ten years ago would
have wanted to kill the Lucius of today.�
He would have found himself repulsively muggle and common.� He wondered, every now and then, how he had
not simply rotted from the inside out with all the bigotry.� In a way�.he had.� He was just fortunate enough that, like a bad
case of the flu, it was reversible � and that no matter how deep he had fallen
in to Voldemort�s rhetoric, he had never truly surrendered his heart.

�� These were heavy things for the
morning after the pub.� He�d gone with
the other men again and been a little confused at how comfortable it was.� He had really forgotten what it was like to
have (dare he say it?) friends, if indeed he had ever known in the first place.� Again, the Lucius of antiquity would have
struck him dead.

�� This was what happened when he was
not kept busy.� He thought too much.� Shaking his head, he went to the loo to
relieve his overburdened bladder.� Once
that was done he meandered toward the kitchen, scratching all the necessary
things for a man to scratch in the morning on the way.

�� That was when he stepped on the
piece of parchment the fireplace had burped out the night before.� He registered the change in texture from the
carpet and bent down to pick up the offending scrap.� Recognizing his ex-wife�s handwriting
immediately, his eyes devoured her words.

Lucius,

I think I am in trouble.� A few nights ago, a man and his two daughters
appeared at my door looking for Giacomo.�
The man was badly injured and said that Giacomo was a healer and could
fix him; I never knew anything about him being a healer.� Whether it was just an accidental omission or
something he purposely kept from me, it is showing me that I don�t know as much
about my fianc� as I thought.

Giacomo wasn�t home when they came.� The man asked me to care for his daughters
while he went to a different healer and I agreed; they are young and I didn�t
want them to be hurt as their father was.�
Since then the father has not returned and the girls will not tell me
anything.� And you know how good I am at
tricking people into talking, Lucius.

All I know is that their names are Renata
and Daniela.� I had hoped to get some
information out of the younger one, Daniela, but her sister is with her every
moment of the day and she makes sure that she doesn�t reveal anything.

Giacomo has only been home for a few minutes
and won�t tell me anything, either, except that everything is fine.� My gut is telling me to leave, but if I do
there will be no one to care for these girls.�
However secretive they may be, they are still innocent.� But I can�t help but think of your warning; I
know what machinations go on here in Milan
and I hate not knowing if I am unwittingly part of that.

I guess what I am asking is that you look
into your resources and see if you can figure out who Renata and Daniela
are.� If I have that piece of information
I will be able to decide if I should cut and run or stay the course.� I hope I haven�t alarmed you, and please,
berate me gently.

Cissa

�� He couldn�t stifle the worried smile
that appeared at her last sentence. �She
knew quite well that he would not approve of her lack of caution.� He hoped that it was harmless, but his
intuition was telling him it wasn�t.�
Lucius moved toward the dining room table, where his resources about Milan�s Mafia were stacked
neatly.

�� Renata and Daniela�he�d heard the
name Renata before.� He combed his brain
as he combed through the papers.� Where
was that blasted family tree?�
Renata�Renata�where had he
heard that before?

�� His eyes fell on an aged newspaper
article.� Oh, hell.� It was the one detailing the murder of Renata
Scattori by Tacito Mancini.� Renata was a
Scattori name, then.� Obviously the first
Renata was dead, but there was nothing to stop any other relative from using
the name again, to honor her�

�� Fuck, fuck, fuck.� He hoped he was wrong.� But when he found the family tree he was
looking for, the neat writing confirmed his fears.� At the bottom of the Scattori tree were
Lorenzo and Gaetano; Gaetano was childless, but Lorenzo had two daughters.� Renata and Daniela.

�� His wife had taken in Lorenzo
Scattori�s children.� He knew nothing
about the other Scattori brother, but if he was anything like Gaetano, he
didn�t want Narcissa to have anything to do with him.� What really troubled him, however, was
Giacomo.� He was obviously in with the
Scattoris; how had Lucius missed that?�
He�d investigated the man thoroughly!�
There had been nothing, nothing at all, to suggest that he had
connections to the Mafia.

�� And perhaps that was the way he
wanted it.� Damn it.� How was he supposed to do this?� Common sense told him that to appear in Milan would not be very
smart; he was still high on the Scattoris� list of undesirable people.� It would be like apparating into the middle
of a firing range.� But a letter would
not be immediate enough to warn Narcissa of the danger.� There was a chance that she might not see it,
or that the floo would be closed, and if it was, an owl would take much too
long to get to Italy.

�� A glamour?� Yes, that might be the only way.� He sat down and quickly scribbled out a
letter.

Cissa,

The girls are Scattoris � Gaetano�s
nieces.� The man is his brother
Lorenzo.� Your fianc� has connections to
the Mafia after all.� Get out of there,
now.� Don�t even take anything with
you.� Just get out.

I�ll be under a glamour, but you�ll
recognize me because I�ll be wearing that midnight blue robe you got me on your
last trip to Paris.� If you don�t answer the door and can�t leave
with me right away, I will wait in Adriatica Alley until 19:00.� If you aren�t there by then, I will assume
you didn�t get this letter or are in danger, which are at this point one and
the same.� If that is the case, I will do
everything I possibly can to find you.� I
pray that it won�t come to that.

�� He didn�t sign it.� She would know who it was from, and if it
fell into the wrong hands his plan would not be immediately foiled.� Stuffing the letter into his pocket, he
steeled himself and apparated back to the Manor for the first time in ages.

�� Narcissa grimaced as she took a
Pepper-Up Potion.� She wasn�t too fond of
the stuff, but after not sleeping more than an hour here and there for the last
two days, she definitely needed it.�
Smoothing her hair down, she rose from her chair and willed herself to
actually want the breakfast that she was going to.

�� The girls had not misbehaved in
their time here.� Daniela actually sort
of liked her, in spite of the fact that she had been schooled by her sister not
to tell Narcissa anything.� The younger
girl didn�t know why, but knew better than to ask questions.� Renata still looked at her temporary guardian
like she was dirt.

�� Renata might be a perfectly nice
girl, but she certainly wasn�t showing it here.�
There was something about her that didn�t sit well with Narcissa.� The girl reminded her too closely of her
relationship with her own older sister.�
Andromeda had always been a free thinker (and a good, hard puncher) and
as such was mostly impervious to Bellatrix�s will, but not Narcissa.� She had been born a waif and couldn�t
physically stand up to her.� Trying to
protest against her verbally was like talking to a wall, and there was always
some kind of retribution if she tried.�
There was no help from her mother, who liked Bella best (Narcissa was
second and Andromeda a distant third), and her father was rarely present.� So, at a very young age, she�d been
browbeaten into being the vessel of Bella�s will.� She feared the same would happen to Daniela
if she didn�t find sanctuary from her sister.

�� But it wasn�t really any of her
business.� If Giacomo said things were
ok, it meant that their father would be back to take them soon.� Though she wasn�t entirely sure she ought to
trust her fianc�s word anymore.� She was
about to turn into the dining room, more enticed by the smell of potatoes than
she wanted to be, but the sound of the front door closing gave her pause.

�� Giacomo strode in.� He was moving quickly and wearing a harried
expression.� Well, she wasn�t going to
hold back her questions because of that.�
He owed her some answers.

�� Giacomo--�

�� But almost as soon as she had
started, he spoke over her.� �You have
mail.�� He thrust a letter at her and
brushed by.� �When you are done, we have
to talk.�

�� Stung, she let him pass.� They had to talk?� That was the understatement of the
century!� She restrained herself from
going after him and yelling.� Maybe this
letter was a response from Lucius.� With
a quick glance around, she unfolded the letter.

�� Her eyes widened as she read the
brief, messily scrawled sentences.�
Lucius was normally very neat; the hastiness of the letter conveyed just
how serious he was.� Her heart leapt into
her throat for more reasons than one.

�� Narcissa took a deep breath to calm
her nerves.� She had left her wand on her
nightstand.� Part of her wanted to go
back and get it, but another glance at the note ruled that out.� She was going to turn around and walk out the
door.� It occurred to her that she was
only going from one man shrouded in secrets to another, but�what was it they
said?� Better the devil you know?

�� No, that wasn�t fair to Lucius.� Her ex-husband had changed, and drastically;
he wasn�t the same man she�d divorced.�
But that was all irrelevant while she was in danger.� Narcissa straightened up and stepped toward
the door.

�� Narcissa, darling?� Are you going out?� I thought we were going to talk,� Giacomo�s
voice sounded down the hallway.� He was walking
toward her.

�� She spent only a second near
panic.� Then she composed herself and
turned.� �The letter was from my
son.� He needs me.� I will only be gone for a little while.� Once I return, we�ll talk.�

�� Giacomo stopped in front of her.� Then he reached out for her hand, and she
tried not to start at his touch.� For a
moment nothing was amiss.� Then his hand
tightened around her wrist.

�� We talk now, Narcissa.�

��

�� Lucius cursed his luck as he walked
away from the house.� He had been relying
on Narcissa answering the door and coming with him right away.� She had said Giacomo wasn�t around.� But who should answer the door but Giacomo
Cannavare himself?� Lucius wasn�t daft;
he had asked to speak to Narcissa directly, but Cannavare had curtly informed
him that she wasn�t available and that he�d make sure she got the letter.� Pushing to see her would seem suspicious and
things could have changed a lot in the twelve hours that had incubated from the
time her letter came through the floo to this moment.� It might already be too late.

�� He had cast a quick privacy charm on
the parchment, rendering it impossible for Cannavare to read.� Even if he never gave it to Narcissa, he
wouldn�t suspect that anyone knew of his involvement with the Mafia.� If he did give it to Narcissa she would meet
him in Adriatica Alley if it was at all possible.

�� Regardless, if his wife (ex-wife, he
had to keep reminding himself of that) didn�t show by the time he�d indicated,
he was going to have to switch to a more drastic plan.� He didn�t relish the idea of storming
Cannavare�s house.� His skills were as
sharp as they had ever been, but he had to go about this carefully.� He was surer now than ever that he was
missing pieces of the puzzle.� It was
hard to act without really seeing the big picture.� Especially when he couldn�t be certain of who
was on what side.� He�d grown up among
Slytherins, but even Slytherins could learn a few things from mobsters.

�� Damn it, if only he�d seen her
letter sooner!� He might already have her
safe somewhere that Cannavare and the Scattoris couldn�t touch her.� He bit his lip, feeling the scratch of the
facial hair he�d given himself.� He might
have enjoyed reasoning his way out of a situation like this once; now the
stakes were too high.� Sighing, Lucius
retreated into the hustle and bustle of Adriatica Alley, his mind full of
turmoil and his gut full of lead.

��

�� Giacomo,
let go of me,� she said firmly, tugging against his grip.

�� He
ignored her and began to pull her down the hall.

�� This
isn�t funny, Giacomo.� Let go now!�

�� I
can�t do that, Narcissa.� Now please,
come with me.�

�� Oh,
so he was going to politely betray
her.� How nice.� Well, she could still be considered a waif,
but that last year of the war Lucius taught her how to physically defend
herself.� He didn�t trust the Dark Lord
and his cronies as far as he could throw them, so he�d taken steps to make sure
she could hold her own if he wasn�t there.�
Her spellwork was never in doubt.�
However, she had no idea how to fight someone off without it.�

�� Once
he taught her the skills, it was him she�d have to practice on; he�d come out
of dark corners at her, suddenly appear and attack to test her.� She knew he meant her no true harm.� He was only doing it because he loved her and
he wanted to make sure she was safe.� It
was bizarrely romantic.� Invariably,
whether she managed to fight him off or not, they ended up shagging.� There was something about a scare and a scuffle
that set the blood pumping�

�� She
was not going to end up shagging
Giacomo.� In fact, she was going to do
something that she�d never do to Lucius � she was going to kick him in the
balls, if need be.� Narcissa gathered her
strength, focused on where the weakest part of his hold was (the spot where his
thumb and index finger met), and yanked her arm away from him as hard as she
could.

�� It
worked.� She was free.� Narcissa turned to run for the door.� That was when Giacomo�s hand clamped into her
hair, halting her.� A shot of pain
radiated from the sharp pull on her scalp.�
Son of a bitch!� Well, she�d taken
great relish in learning this one, because Lucius had long hair, too, so it was
just as easy to trap him��

�� She
trapped his hand with her own and twisted around to face him.� It hurt, and she was sure she would be parted
with some of her hair, but Giacomo didn�t expect it.� He was wide open.� She kneed him in the groin.� A choked sound escaped him and he reflexively
released her.� Now to get the bloody hell
out of this den of thieves�

�� She
ran.� If there was one thing slight people
were blessed with, it was speed.� She
wouldn�t be caught if she made it outside.�
She was reaching for the door handle when suddenly the heavy wooden
portal was flying toward her.� Narcissa
managed to stop just short of it, but her beloved Louboutins got the better of
her; her ankle twisted.� She fell with a
cry, blinding pain shooting up her leg.�
Oh, no�her ankle was either broken or severely sprained.� She could see it swelling already.

�� Fuck.� Tears pooled in her eyes, borne of pain and
panic.� She reached for the shoe, ready
to pry off her impractical footwear and try to hobble out the door (forgetting
altogether that someone was standing in the way), when a gentle voice sounded.

�� Don�t
remove your shoe.� It will help control
the swelling.�

�� She
looked up, and it was the nail in her coffin.�
The man towering above her was him.� It was Lorenzo Scattori � and this time
around, he didn�t have a scratch on him. �

A/N 2:� I�d love to hear what you think, especially
you lurkers and new readers. ^_~
- 15
- 16
- 17
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Some Blond Fool