Unexpected | By : draconisdemented Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 26235 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Author's Note: Once again, I do not speak French. I am using a
dictionary/translator on my computer, so I'm aware it won't be perfect. If you
do speak French, I would like to apologize now for any slaughtering of the
language I may have inadvertently caused. Otherwise, what do you care, right?
French translations: ((example))
Important Author's
Note:
Thanks to a lovely reviewer, pitchic05,
it has come to my attention that when using my beloved little French
endearments, 'mon' instead of 'ma' is supposed to be used before a word
starting with a vowel. Sooooo
I'll be doing it that way from now on, and I'll
eventually go back through the other chapters and fix those. Thanks, pitchic05!
..
Swimming in stars, Virginia surfaced, the
warm water sliding off her skin like silk. Brilliant flashes surrounded her,
and the falling snow tickled her cheeks and shoulders. Slicing through the
dark, dreamy liquid, her feet finally felt the bottom of the pool once more, and
she left the water slowly, the steam curling around her body. A silver head
surfaced farther out and she smiled, pulling a towel right out of the wall by
the misty archway, where there was a good-sized hidden compartment. Drying
herself off, she wrapped the thick towel around her and grabbed another,
holding it out to Draco as he left the pool as well.
They went back into the bedroom, Draco still dripping wet, and
both stopped for a moment to admire their lover. Blaise's eyes were closed, his
chest rising and falling shallowly, nude but for the silk sheets that rode low
at his hips and tangled around his legs. Raven hair was spread over and around
him in wavy, teasing tendrils, obscuring half of his face and giving them only
tiny glimpses of the smooth, alabaster skin that they knew was hiding
underneath that satiny mass. They'd been at the Manor for three days, and both
he and Draco seemed to feel secure enough to let themselves sleep an hour or two
each day. Now was one of those times.
"Hmm." Draco hummed thoughtfully; his eyes glinting
mischievously as he lazily dried his hair with summoned towel. He could have
done so with a spell, but all three thought that it was pretty pointless, and
usually opted to let their hair dry mostly on its own.
"What?" She asked, sitting down on one of the chairs
beside the bed and calling in another towel for her own hair.
"Well," Draco started with smirk, "I think it's
about time we got him back for that childish little prank the other day, don't
you?" A devious grin curved across her own lips then.
"And how do you propose we go about such a thing?" She
asked innocently, looking up at him through thick lashes. His smirk turned
predatory.
"Look at him." Draco crooned. "Just begging to be ravished until he can't
stand, hmm?"
"Yes." She agreed, her eyes traveling over her lover's
sleeping form hungrily. "It took your mother almost twenty minutes to get
those knots out of our hair."
"Join me, then?" Draco asked, holding out a hand to her.
She opened her mouth to agree, lifted her hand to accept, when a sudden and
utterly wicked thought assaulted her brain. Pulling her hand back, she
responded to the surprised inquiry within Draco's silvery eyes.
"How about
" She trailed off as images came on the heels
of the idea and stole her breath.
"How about what,
cher un?" Draco questioned, leaning against the bedpost. Snapping back to
reality, she looked up at him with eyes turning smoky.
"How about I watch?"
For a second, Draco said nothing, and then he smiled lasciviously.
"Alright. You wish for a show, mon βme? Then I shall give you one."
Without another word, he leaned down and kissed her passionately
before crawling onto the huge bed with grace a panther would kill for. The
sheets whispered underneath him, and his towel hung rakishly low on his hips.
He slid in between Blaise's legs and ran soft kisses up one silk-covered thigh,
his nails following the same path on the other. Blaise shivered but didn't
wake, lost deep in dreams, and Draco's grin grew as his lover hardened under
his ministrations. A pink tongue darted out, licking a wet trail up the cloth
over Blaise's erection and darkening the fabric while ripping a low, throaty
moan from his throat.
Blaise's eyes fluttered and he started to say something, but Draco
slipped his mouth over the head of his cock, the silk still between their
flesh, and any words that might have spilled from between those full lips
turned into a strangled scream. His fingers dug into the mattress as his hips
bucked, and more of his length disappeared down Draco's throat. Indigo eyes
opened wide, clouded with lust, and he mewled when Draco pulled back up, softly
scraping teeth over him and dragging the silk along his sensitive skin. Slender,
elegant hands pulled the sheet down, slowly revealing inch after inch of perfectly
formed porcelain flesh.
Then Draco's frosty lips resumed their task, worshiping every
piece of delectable Blaise that was laid
out before him, and gaining one whimpering groan after another for his efforts.
Silver slid over creamy thighs, leaving wet trails from the still-damp strands
as Draco moved and Blaise trembled. Draco slowed his pace, the strokes of mouth
and tongue turning languid, and his hands gripped Blaise's hips, holding them
down while his icy nails bit into the other's skin, thin trickles of blood
welling to the surface and spilling over. Blaise moaned, clutching a fistful of
mercury hair as those sharp nails continued downwards, leaving smeared red trails
on flawless white flesh.
His length was swallowed to the hilt once more in a sudden,
violent move that forced the first true scream from him and caused his pupils
to split, his eyes to glow. Wrapping his index finger and thumb around the base
of Blaise's shaft, Draco continued his assault mercilessly, until his lover was
shaking from head to foot, his own nails having lengthened and ripped through
the mattress underneath him. The hand still in Draco's hair tightened, causing
Draco to growl around his cock, which would have undone him then had Draco not
tightened his grip. Heat pounding through every cell, Virginia wondered why in the
fuck she'd never thought to do this before.
Whispered, husky pleas spilled from Blaise's lips, shameless and
utterly dissolute, and she knew Draco's control wouldn't hold up much
longer against those ferverencrench entreaties. She was right. After another
minute of exquisite torture, Draco drug nails down Blaise's inner thighs at the
same time he swallowed him whole, releasing his restraining grip. Blaise
screamed, and kept screaming, as Draco poured dark magick into him through his
mouth and stretched his orgasm out until it was nearing unbearable. Then,
slowly, he released him, smiling when he saw that the glow from Blaise's eyes
was almost blinding and his body was trembling uncontrollably.
Purring appreciatively at the sight of complete and total
debauched beauty that Blaise presented, and slowly lapping up the small rivers
of blood that wound down his lover's milky flesh, Draco wrapped a hand around
Blaise's length again, letting another pulse of magick return him to full
hardness. A shudder passed through his form, and his hand once again wrapped
itself in Draco's damp hair. A tug had familiar skin sliding against familiar
skin, and their lips met eagerly. Teeth nicked tongues and both hissed in
delight before Draco found their positions reversed. A smirk curved frosty lips
before it was kissed into bloody oblivion, and Virginia vaguely heard herself
whimper.
Metallic hair fanning out underneath them and dusky, sable locks
falling around them like a curtain of shadow, they contrasted and complimented
each other beautifully. Their kiss turned ravenous and demanding, their hips
grinding together in an age-old carnal rhythm, before Blaise leaned back and
whispered a lubricating spell breathlessly. Pale, aristocratic hands wound
around Draco's erection, coating it reverently in the warm, slick fluid until
it glistened in the starlight. Their eyes locked and overflowing with dark,
fierce passion, Blaise lifted up in one smooth movement and slid down onto
Draco's cock without any more preamble.
Neither bothered to try and stifle their twin screams, and neither
bothered with delicacies, their coupling hard and fast and primal right from
the beginning. Nails sliced flesh with sinful abandon, and when Draco's hand
encircled his lover's length once more, Blaise threw his head back and moaned
wickedly, causing goosebumps to chase over Virginia's skin delectably. Their
sleek, muscled forms writhed together, wanton and unrestrained, and it was by
far the most erotic thing she had ever seen. She knew they were close when both
extended a pale, slender wrist to the other, and keen teeth and lips latched
onto the offerings lustfully.
Eyes glazing and epinephrine running amuck within them, Draco's
free hand dropped to Blaise's hip, fingers digging into the wounds they'd made
and causing them to bleed anew. Rocking and twisting and moaning low in his
throat, Blaise met Draco thrust for thrust as their bodies slammed together fiercely
and lovingly, their skin practically vibrating from the undiluted ecstasy
engulfing their bodies and souls. The pleasure peaked and the Marks flew open,
swamping Virginia as the full force of
their rapture hit her dead on. All three screamed ferally for what felt like an
eternity, their spirits joining into one for a glorious, exalted moment.
Finally, lethargically, they sank back into themselves, purring
contentedly, and Virginia found only enough
strength to drag herself up onto the bed with them. Both reached out
instinctively for her, taking her hands and pulling her towards them, covering
her skin in soft, lazy kisses and caresses. Sated and more than a bit euphoric,
they stayed that way for a long time, comfortable and silent, simply enjoying
each other's presence. In the backs of their minds, they knew that they would
be expected downstairs in a little while, but for the moment, nothing existed
for them but silky skin and gentle breathing, and that was all that mattered.
..
Hermione rose early, bathing and dressing quickly, constantly
aware of the dog's eyes on her. Pansy had told her its name was Mephite, and
that it was a male. She didn't know whether to be grateful for its presence,
since it kept the Manor from killing her, or to resent that she needed it at
all. Sighing, since she knew it was pointless to dwell on it, she made a few
last minute adjustments to her robe and her hair before heading down to the
breakfast hall. It's where they'd eaten the last couple of mornings, and she
was pretty sure that she wouldn't get lost this time. It was quite embarrassing
to ask Mephite for help, and she didn't relish the thought of doing it again.
Fiddling with the sleeve of her velvet robe, she pondered the last
few days. After their picnic at the cove, they'd all gone on a short (well, not
short, but they sure as hell hadn't
covered even an iota of the grounds) walk around the gardens and the forest, a
group of the large, striped cubs going with them and prowling around happily.
The next morning, she'd found the wardrobe in her room full of new clothes,
robes, boots, and stockings, and had wondered at first if someone else was taking
the room over, and if she would be relocated. Then a house elf had appeared,
telling her that the new items were hers, courtesy of the Malfoys. So she had
asked Ginny.
"What?" The girl had mumbled, having been a bit
distracted with one of the giant cubs that had grown quite attached to her.
"I said that the wardrobe was full of clothes and that the
house elf said they were mine. I
figured that there had to be some sort of mistake." Hermione had told her
again, and Ginny had smirked.
"There wasn't any mistake." She'd replied. "It's a common
courtesy for guests who don't have
appropriate apparel. They may not like you,
but, as they said, they have an image to maintain. Therefore, Narcissa said it
wouldn't do to have you running around the Manor in anything less, even if
you're not pureblooded."
The girl's voice had been factual and neutral, not in the
slightest bit insulting, but Hermione had felt a sting anyway. Of course they
had done it for propriety's sake, nothing more. It had been foolish to hope
otherwise. So, ever since, she had simply done her best not to get in anyone's
way, and to stay as far away as humanly possible Dra Draco and Blaise. Which
was more difficult then she'd thought it would be. It seemed that one or both
were around every corner, and there was no way avoid them that day, seeing as the Weasleys would be arriving any moment.
Narcissa's announcement had not gone over very well. Not very well at all.
The Slytherins had frozen, looks of horror on their features,
Snape had started cursing underneath his breath, Ginny had paled and looked
slightly ill, Draco had threatened never to speak to his mother again, and
Blaise had simply put his head in his hands, as if life had just hit a new
all-time low. It was respected and understood that Silana and Narcissa were
friends with Molly, but to have the entire Weasley family over for a whole
week? To Hermione, it seemed like asking for trouble. Actually, it seemed like
asking for homicide. If everyone ended up in one piece and unharmed at the
week's end, Hermione would request that it be made a national holiday.
There was, however, very little chance of that. The Weasley men
were known to be in-your-face and incredibly stubborn, and Arthur always tried
to be a father to everyone younger than him. She didn't even want to think about what would happen the first
time he tried to lecture Draco and Blaise. Hopefully they would be able to
leash their tempers for Ginny's sake, if nothing else. And what about the
girl's brothers? Who knew what they might say or do? Not to mention the other
Slytherins. They were just as stubborn, and prideful and arrogant on top of
that. Looking at it from every angle, Hermione could only come up with one
conclusion. This was going to be bad.
Looking up as she finally reached the breakfast hall, she smiled
gratefully when the rich smells of the different foods wafted to her nose.
Glancing around, she was slightly surprised to see that no one else was there
yet but for Anton, who was pouring something in his goblet of orange juice from
a hip flask. Picking up one of the platinum spoons, he swirled it around a few
times, mixing the liquids, before taking an experimental sip. Studying him from
the doorway, she wondered at the unfairness of it all. Had she been a
pureblood, that handsome, elfish face might smile at her like it did for his
friends, might laugh with her as if she were important.
Had she been a pureblood, he might take more notice of her then
just as something to insult. He might have accepted her like he had accepted
Ginny. He might have even liked her, dated her. He might have loved her, might
have been able to help her forget
No, she didn't need to think about that. She mustn't think about him. But
Anton might have been able to. He might have been able to wipe away the
loneliness and desperation, might have been able to respect and care for her as
she desired to be respected and cared for. But she was not a pureblood and
never would be. Which meant that he would never look twice at her except in
disgust.
"What are you doing lurking, Granger?"
Startled, she snapped out of her musings. "Nothing." She
replied, walking into the room, which was lit up brightly with the morning
sunlight that was streaming through the clear walls. Sitting across from him at
the ebony table, Mephite crouching beside her, she searched for something to
say, suddenly not in the least bit hungry. "What did you put in your
drink?"
"Excuse me?" He asked, lifting a dark eyebrow. She
cursed herself and her stupid mouth, but plunged on.
"Your drink." She clarified. "What did you put in
it?"
"Bourbon, if you must know." He said, not even looking
at her, but at the goblet in his hand.
"And
that's good?" She asked, determined. If she wanted
any of them to even sort of like her,
then she was going to have to at least try.
"To me. Most don't like it with orange juice." He said
distractedly, as if he didn't even really realize that he was talking to her.
Wondering what was preoccupying him so badly, but too scared to ask, she kept
to the topic at hand.
"Isn't it a bit early?"
"Hah." Anton snorted, still not looking up as he drained
his goblet and filled it again. "On this
day? No, it's not early at all. I'd bet a hundred galleons that that everyone
in the house has a drink or two this morning."
"Maybe it won't be too bad." She said, and he did look
up then, his eyes slightly foggy, and she realized that that had definitely not
been his first drink.
"Who are you to say that?" He asked, drinking half of
his newly made beverage in one gulp. "You can't be looking forward to it.
The whole reason you're here is because of that fool you hang out with."
"Yes, well, who else should I hang out with, then?" She
snapped, losing her cool a bit. "You?"
"You wish, Granger." He said, his words beginning to
slur slightly, black hair falling over one hazel eye.
"You're drunk." She said, hoping to change the subject
back to what it had been.
"No, I'm not." He argued. "But hopefully I will be
soon."
"Well, that's delightful, dear." Pansy commented,
sweeping into the room in a swirl of blue silk. Anton watched her closely as
she came to sit next to him, while Hermione watched him. "Pour me one or
two of those, if you don't mind."
"Oh, yes, coming right up, master."
"Now, Anton, what did I tell you about being sarcastic?"
She questioned primly. "It doesn't become you."
"Doesn't it?"
"Oh, alright. It does. But not when I'm the target." She sniffed. "Don't be mean. I didn't
get much sleep last night, and I'm quite irritable enough as is." She said
lightly, but Anton's brow wrinkled with worry.
"Are you still
" He trailed off, shooting a meaningful,
distrustful look at Hermione. Pansy nodded.
"Yes. Sometimes. But they're not as bad anymore." She
said truthfully, and Anton visibly relaxed.
"Thank the gods." He murmured, finishing off his drink
and mixing one for Pansy and yet another for himself. Unable to help herself,
Hermione had to ask.
"Doesn't that thing ever run out?" She asked, motioning
to the small flaskp>
"When all I poured in it is gone." Anton said dryly.
"It's magic, you know." He
rolled his eyes and Hermione decided to be quiet. Narcissa, Snape and Silana
came in, followed shortly by the other Slytherins, and it was another ten or
fifteen minutes before Draco, Ginny and Blaise finally came down, looking much
more relaxed then everyone else.
"Morning." Ginny said, stretching like a cat as they
went to take their seats.
"Morning." Everyone chorused back, grinning at their
mussed hair and slightly drugged looks.
"What took you so long, hmm?" Pansy asked with a playful
sneer, and Draco threw piece of sliced mango at her head. She barely dodged it,
sticking out her tongue after it the floor with a small 'splat'.
"Draco Malfoy." Narcissa said sternly, losing a battle
against a smile. "That wasn't very gentlemanly of you."
"Hmph." He scoffed, snapping his fingers. A house elf
appeared and bowed low.
"Yes, Master Malfoy?"
"Wine. Old. Strong. Now." He commanded, his eyes a bit
unfocused. The house elf nodded and vanished, reappearing a moment later with a
bottle in hand. It sat it within easy reach on the ebony table and left with
another bow. Grabbing it and pouring three goblets, he handed one to each of
his lovers and downed his own at once, as did they. They actually looked a bit
more steady afterwards. Then Draco started cursing.
"What is it?" Snape asked, and Hermione couldn't help
but stare a bit. Snape looked
different. It wasn't anything major, just that
his hair wasn't greasy and his skin didn't have the unhealthy pallor that it
usually did.
"They're almost here." Draco said, and no one needed to
ask who he meant.
Hermione noticed that the emeralds in his signet ring were
flashing oddly, and figured that that was how he knew. They all rose
reluctantly, but for Narcissa and Silana, both of whom looked pleased that
their friend had arrived, yet slightly nervous as well, casting sideways
glances at their sons as they all made their way to the entrance hall. Everyone's
faces had settled into neutral masks by the time that they'd reached the doors,
and a wave of Draco's hand had them opening. They passed under the awning to wait
in the snowy grass, and it was less than a minute later when a Dementor walked
straight through the wall and Draco went out to meet it.
She didn't know if any actual words were spoken or not, but the
Dementor kneeled after a moment and kissed Draco's hand instead of his cheek.
Then it was gone, back through the wall, and the gates vanished. One of the
Malfoy carriages rolled through, which she knew Narcissa had arranged to bring
the Weasleys in, and it pulled around the spherical drive briskly. It came to a
smooth stop, and the doors opened at the slightest touch of Blaise's fingers.
She'd noticed how the Manor and all that came with it seemed to listen to
Blaise almost as much as it did Draand and wondered if the same were true at
Blaise's main estate.
"Narcissa!" They heard Molly exclaim before she flew out
of the carriage. "Silana!"
"Molly!" Both women said happily, and they all three
embraced.
The other Weasleys filed out one by one, Arthur first, then Fred
and George, Bill and Charlie, and, finally, Ron. All looked a bit
shell-shocked, much as she figured she herself had looked after the stunning
ride through the grounds, the fright at the front gate, and then the vision of
the Manor itself. Then, to her eternal surprise and Slytherins' scorn, Harry
came out after the rest. Blaise looked as if he was about to either commit
murder or lay down right in the snow and scream, Draco's lips twisted into a
furious, disgusted sneer, Snape looked resigned, and Ginny just looked as if
she'd rather be somewhere else entirely.
"Mother."
Draco hissed, spinning on Narcissa, his eyes flashing dangerously. The woman
actually took a step back, but didn't lower her eyes. "You cloaked him
from me. That's why you were so adamant on the carriage. Easier to
conceal."
"Draco, baby, he was staying with them. They couldn't very
well have left him there."
"And that is my problem how?"
He asked viciously. "Never mind. You want him here bad enough to lie to
me? As you wish." He said, his eyes and face utterly blank, and Narcissa
flinched.
"Baby "
"Forget it." He said dismissively, his voice cold, and
he turned to Harry. "You make one move against anyone or anything while at
my home, and I will turn the entire place against you faster then you can
blink. You do not want to know what it is like to truly be hunted." Then
he spun, snapping his fingers three times, and a dozen house elves answered
immediately.
"Master?" The lead elf inquired, and Draco gave it an
icy smile.
"Escort our guest to their rooms. They're Virginia's family, and to be
treated with the utmost respect. See to it that they have everything they need,
and escort them to east wing exit in time for brunch. That will be all."
He told them, and they nodded and bowed, waiting patiently for the Weasleys.
Narcissa was looking at Draco sadly, and she moved away from Snape, taking his
arm.
"Come with me for a moment." She suggested, and Draco
looked as if he wanted to snatch his arm away, but he stayed still.
"Of course, my lady mother." He said formally and
frostily, and her shoulders drooped the minutest bit. They left after excusing
themselves, and entered one of the many shadowed, lattice walkways,
disappearing from view. Blaise stepped forward and the house elves bowed again.
"Are you ready to be shown your quarters?" He asked
politely and aloofly, the host skills that had been ingrained into him from
birth rising to the forefront. And he wasn't looking at his mother either, his
eyes and expression devoid of anything but a detached, mild curiosity.
"That would be fine, dear." Molly said, looking at him
with understanding.
He inclined his head towards her respectfully, even going to far
as to give her a faint grin (which Hermione was almost sure was more for Ginny
then anything else), before gesturing to the house elves. They moved forward at
once, a few going to the carriage to retrieve their luggage while the rest
motioned for the Weasleys to follow and moved toward the Manor. The Weasleys
looked more than a bit anxious as they passed underneath the imposing doors, their
freckles sticking out against their pale skin, and Hermione looked over at
Ginny. The other girl no longer bore the freckles that her family was almost as
infamous for as they were for their hair, and Hermione sighed.
She felt eyes on her and looked up and into Ron and Harry's
stunned faces, and she couldn't help smirking callously at them. They were
obviously much more than just surprised to see her there, and dressed in
clothes that had obviously cost a fortune, at that. Flipping her straightened
hair (which had been done by another marvelous little house elf) over her
shoulder haughtily, she decided that they deserved to have it rubbed in their
faces. It was Ron's fault that she was there in the first place, damn it, and
it's not as if Harry had really stood up for her. He'd just gotten mad at the
slight against their non-pure status, she remembered bitterly.
"Hermione?"
Harry asked incredulously, both of them rooted to the spot, two house elves
hovering nearby and waiting for them while the rest of the Weasleys disappeared
inside, followed by Snape and Silana, who shot a last, apologetic look at her
son. The Slytherins glared at the two Gryffindors, their eyes full of undiluted
venom. Ginny moved forward, standing by Hermione's side, and she felt her
confidence increase. If she had Ginny's support, then she had the others'
support as well, as they would side with Ginny through anything.
"Yes, Harry?" Hermione drawled in her best Slytherin
impression, silently congratulating herself when their eyes widened even
farther.
"What the hell are you doing
here?" Ron questioned harshly.
"Well, you see, I did have
other plans. But, sadly, they fell through, and I was invited to spend Yule
here." She said innocently. "Oh, and it's just been so much fun!"
"Fun?" Ron goggled, and she heard someone snicker
quietly behind her before Anton stepped up to her other side, linking his arm
with hers familiarly, as if he did it all the time, and it shocked her so badly
that she almost lost her faηade right then and there. Taking a deep breath
after seeing the cruel, playful twinkle in his eyes and realizing that he was
going to play along to bait Ron, she turned back to her Housemates.
"Well, of course!" She said as if it were the most
obvious thing in the world. "I don't ever want to leave, to tell you the
truth." Their mouths dropped and she could feel Anton shaking with
laughter before he cut in smoothly.
"It's been quite an
interesting
few days." He said slyly, and she felt someone nudge him in the back. A
hint of distaste momentarily flashed across his face, but it was gone in an
instant and he turned to face her. "Isn't that right, Hermione?" He
asked, and before she even had time to get over him calling her by her first
name, his lips descended on hers. Her brain seeming to shut down, she kissed
him back automatically, vaguely registering Ron's shout and Harry's yelp. Something
coiling tightly in her stomach, she couldn't stop a small moan from escaping
her as his talented mouth devoured hers, and then
it was over.
"What the fuck,
Hermione!?" Ron yelled, and she dazedly turned around, Ginny's hand on her
waist the only thing that stopped her from literally swooning. She'd been kissed
once or twice before, silly, awkward fumblings in the dark, but never like that.
"Hmm?" She murmured, thankfully not seeing Anton turn
and wrap an arm around Blaise's waist, discreetly wiping his lips off with the
silk handkerchief the raven-haired young man handed him.
"You've got to be fucking kidding!" Ron continued to
rant, his face as red as his hair, his arms flailing wildly. "How can you
kiss that
that
"
"Watch your words, brother.
Don't say something you'll regret." Ginny snapped, taking another step
towards him. He turned a hostile glare on her.
"I mean everything
I say." He spat spitefully, meaning to wound. But Ginny didn't react as
she had when he'd turned away from her. Oh no, not this time.
"I hope so." She said acidly. "Because some words
are unforgivable."
"Ill keep that in mind, Slytherin." He replied nastily.
Blaise snarled, his warning clear, but Ron foolishly paid him no heed. "Now,
if you'll mind your own bloody business, I have some shit to discuss with her." He grimaced, nodding towards
Hermione.
"You will not harass her here, Ron." Ginny said, her
voice steely. "Or I'll show you some of the Slytherin tricks I've
learned."
"You'll try."
Ron said derisively. "I don't think I've ever been more disappointed with
anyone in my entire life as I am with you." He continued, oblivious to
Blaise's growing fury. "A complete disgrace to our family, a Slytherin, and worst of all, you've
become their little concubine." He taunted, and between one second and the
next, he was flat on his back in the snow, Blaise on top of him with a boot
knife at his throat.
"Want to repeat that, Weasel?" He crooned, electricity
beginning to flow over his lips and skin. Ron said nothing and Blaise dug the
blade in hard enough to draw blood. I
knew something like this was going to happen, Hermione couldn't help
thinking. But less then ten minutes after
they'd arrived?
"No!" Ron finally choked out, his eyes fogging with
instinctual fear. Blaise leaned in, his mouth next to Ron's ear and his words
deathly serious.
"Can you not hear yourself when you
speak? Ignorance flows from your lips like a sour wine. How many times since we
have been with her have you had to ask for her forgiveness? How many times has
she granted it? But always, always, you're
back to much-lacking insults a moment later, hurting one you claim to love
again and again. The only reason you're
not dead is that she still cares for you, no matter how stupid I may think that
is. Hell, she might even forgive you this time, although that is, thankfully,
doubtful. But she might should you happen to show that little spark of
intelligence that you must have buried somewhere very, very deep inside
of you. But watch your footing, Weasel, because I will be watching you. And I can dig a grave no one will
find."
"Blaise!" Silana's voice cut through the thick silence, and
Blaise sprung off of Ron, his dagger sliding back into his boot between one
blink and the next.
"What?" Blaise questioned
furiously, no longer hiding his displeasure with her. She hesitated, then
seemed to steel herself.
"You cannot attack the
guests." She said, her eyes going to the thin line of blood on Ron's neck.
"Oh gods, you didn't!" She said, going to the Gryffindor's side.
Blaise's eyes hardened before going completely dead, and when Silana looked
back up, her words died in her throat as she saw the look on her son's face.
"Yes, mother of mine, I
did." He snapped, his tone as formal and cold as Draco's had been earlier.
"And I'll do much worse than that if he ever calls my girlfriend a
concubine again."
"She's his sister, Blaise."
Silana said evenly, obviously fighting for control of her emotions. "I
doubt he would-"
"He did." Ginny interrupted
blankly, her eyes as vacant as her boyfriend's. Silana's gaze darkened.
"Be that as it may, that is no
excuse to-"
"Silence." Blaise hissed, the signet ring on his hand
flickering and pulsing, and Silana's mouth snapped shut as she dropped to her
knees, her head bowed. Hermione stepped away from him as the air around him
became charged and unsteady, and she realized with a start that this was not Blaise she was seeing, but Lord Zabini.
It was quite terrifying.
"Forgive me, my lord."
Silana intoned, just a hint of genuine fright lacing her voice. "I did not
mean to offend-"
"I do not want fake sentiments
from you, Mother." Blaise cut
her off. "Nor do I wish to see you kneel before me, even now. I simply
want to know when yourendsendship with a woman that you two just started
socializing with, and that you despised before that, became so important that
it eclipsed your loyalty and honesty to your sons."
"It 't, 't, we only
wanted-"
"I know what you wanted."
"No you don't!" She said,
lifting her head, tears that Hermione knew she would never let fall, not here,
not now, glistening in her blue eyes. "We just wanted you to have a proper
Yule for once!" She said, and Blaise stiffened.
"And what," he whispered
quietly, too quietly in Hermione's
opinion, "is that supposed to
mean?"
"You know what I speak of." She responded, and he cocked
an eyebrow.
"Do I?" He questioned softly. "Perhaps. But I never
expected deceit of any kind from you two. Shows what I know, hmm?"
Hermione really didn't like the edge in his voice, didn't like the layers of
hidden meaning. Silana paled.
"No." She said, then more urgently as her son's face
stayed completely still, "No. It wasn't like that. You know it wasn't. The
little Potter brat coming along was unfortunate, but necessary. Please, Blaise,
you know we would never
We're not like them!"
She exclaimed, just as Draco and Narcissa reappeared out of the gardens.
Draco's eyes took in the scene before him, his face intent, and he went to
Blaise's side immediately.
"What is it?" Draco asked in a low, soothing voice, but
for once, Blaise didn't respond to it, just kept looking at his mother as if
seeing her for the first time. Eyes turning frosty and freezing, Draco turned
to the last two house elves. "Take the two Gryffindors inside and heal
that neck wound. Be discreet; do not let the other Weasleys see you." The
house elves complied instantly, laying small hands on Harry and Ron and
vanishing with them. "Blaise?" Nothing. "Severus?"
"Yes, Draco?"
"Why does my lover look as if he's seen a ghost? And why is
Silana kneeling? What happened here?" He demanded, and Snape fidgeted a
bit under his stare.
"They had the same disagreement as you and your mother, but
unfortunately, it happened after Blaise was already quite enraged." Snape
said, making sure to keep his voice impartial. Draco put two and two together
quickly, and turned back to Blaise.
"Venir, mon aimι." He whispered, molding the front of
his body against Blaise's as Ginny did the same from behind. "Nous volontι
aller apprκter durant brunch, et j'volontι expliquer tout." Blaise let
himself be led away, not so much as a glimmer of acknowledgement in his eyes,
as if he were somewhere else entirely. The three of them disappeared, Silana
rose shakily, and Hermione tried to put her swirling thoughts into some sort of
order. ((Come, my beloved. We will go prepare for brunch, and I'll explain
everything.))
..
Hours later, Hermione was fucking wasted. For brunch, they'd all
gone about half a mile down a path to the east of the Manor, still inside the
wall, and come to a cliff over looking a beach. But not just a beach, oh no. A beach with a regulation sized Quidditch
pitch that had had the Weasley males practically drooling on themselves. Draco
had twisted the branch on a low-hanging tree, and a platform had slid out of
the cliff face a few yards below them, then lifted like an elevator. They'd
gotten on, somewhat nervous until one of the twins had nearly fallen off and it
was discovered that there were wards around the platform.
A huge feast had been laid out upon blankets on the sand, cushions
were spread everywhere, and there was a rack of towels and swimsuits waiting
for their usage. That had surprised them until Narcissa had told them that the
water was always warm, almost hot, unless Draco willed it differently.
Apparently, even this part of the property answered to him in some way or
another. Heat shields had been thrown up for their comfort, and Draco and
Blaise had led everyone on a short, to-the-point tour of the Quidditch shed
(which was more like a house), telling them that they were welcome to use it
and the pitch whenever they wished to during their stay.
Then the Weasleys had seen the brooms.
"What is that?"
One of the twins had questioned (she could never really tell them apart). He'd
been pointing at a row of sleek, black brooms leaning in holders against the
walls, and the Slytherins had smirked smugly.
"Those," Draco had informed him, "are the latest
model. They don't hit our stores for another two or three weeks."
"Oh gods." Charlie had breathed. "They're exquisite. Can I see one? I'll be really
careful."
"See one?" Blaise had repeated, and Hermione had just
been glad that he was speaking again. Apparently Draco had succeeded in talking
to him, as he'd apologized to a tearful Silana and kissed her on the cheek when
they'd come back down. She'd refused to accept, saying that he'd been right and
that they should have told them. No one had mentioned the earlier incident
since.
"Yes." Charlie had answered slowly. "I mean, if
it's alright, I'd understand if-"
"No, go ahead." Blaise had said, shrugging. "You
can ride them if you want. Otherwise, the Infinities are over there." He'd
added, pointing to another row of shining brooms against the opposite wall.
"Really?" Bill had asked, and so had ensued a makeshift
Quidditch match.
Not bothering to watch, she'd gone back and sat on one of the many
cushions, sinking into it and eating a bit of the finger food laid out, still
not having gained her appetite back. Hours had passed in a peaceful lull,
before the others had trampled back, their cheeks flushed and their eyes
shining. The Slytherins had won (and toned down their playing a bit), but the
Weasleys and Harry were so elated to have ridden the new brooms that they
didn't comment about it, not even Ron. Although, if he had any sense at all, he
wouldn't have anyway. Eating a late mid-afternoon lunch, everyone had then
decided to go swimming.
Joining them, they had all grabbed a suit and gone back to the
Quidditch shed to change. Thankful for the warming charms, Hermione had been
more than a bit shy about going out in nothing but a skimpy bikini, but hadn't
really had a choice if she wanted to get in the water. It's not as if she could
have gone in with the beautiful velvet robes that they had given her still on. So
she'd headed immediately into the waves, sinking down to her neck. Ginny had
come out with her boyfriends, and Hermione had felt a twinge of envy. Ginny
filled her own stringy green bikini out perfectly, curving and firm in all of
the right places.
Draco and Blaise had also been quite a sight to behold, clad in
nothing but baggy black shorts and tight, rippling muscles. Averting her gaze
until they'd entered the water as well, she'd hung back and relaxed, watching
as the Slytherins got into a water fight on one side of her, the Weasleys on
the other. It had soon turned into a battle between the two groups, and it had
seemed that no matter how far away she moved, she would still get splashed.
Giving up, she'd ignored it, and they'd only left the water as the sun had
started to sink below the horizon. A huge bonfire had been lit, and that's when
the drinking had started.
No one had been spared, not even the adults, as every kind of
liquor imaginable was passed around freely. First, it had been brandy, then
whiskey, then cognac, then scotch and gin, then Sambuca and rum, then tequila, Sake,
Armagnac
Then she'd lost count, the fire roaring and crackling, drunken
laughter floating around her, her own melding with it. Ginny screamed, bringing
Hermione back to the present, as Blaise tossed her into the air, Draco catching
her before all three fell to the sand, snickering and giggling. Crabbe and
Goyle were singing a lewd song, mostly empty bottles in their hands as they
spun in circles around the flames.
They'd surprised her earlier when they'd come out to swim, as they
were solid muscle instead of fat. Their robes apparently concealed quite a bit.
Once their hair had been wet and slicked back, instead of shaggy and falling in
their faces, she'd also noticed that they'd both become quite handsome, their
cheeks slimmer then she remembered. But then she hadn't really looked at either
of them in years. They were just sort of
there. But she'd definitely noticed
them then. Pansy, Melody and Daphne sat at their feet, smiling and clapping,
while Narcissa, Silana, Molly, Arthur and Snape were also quite sloshed, telling
old stories and laughing uproariously every so often.
Bill, Charlie and Ron were alternately watching their sister and
their parents, while having a heated debate over, shocker of shockers,
Quidditch, with Harry, who had passed the heavily intoxicated point well over
an hour ago. Fred and George had been mingling with everyone, going from place
to place as the groups had shifted and changed, and she watched idly and
blurrily as they sat down beside their sister and her lovers. They had soon
struck up a conversation which she couldn't hear, but she could see them
laughing when Draco and Blaise polished off their fifth or sixth bottle of alcohol,
which should have been impossible, but wasn't.
At least not for them,
anyway. She'd only had
Well, she didn't really have any idea. Too much, she thought distantly, not
particularly caring. Then something caught her attention. Anton was sitting by
himself as she was, watching the Slytherin girls as he opened another bottle of
what looked like Black Death vodka and took several deep swigs before lowering
it. After another moment of looking at them, he stood abruptly and started down
the beach. He passed by, unnoticed by most, until Draco's hand shot out and
caught his ankle as he made to scoot around them. Quiet words were exchanged
and Draco's hand dropped.
An unreadable expression clouded Draco's eyes as he watched Anton
walk away, and she almost thought it was something resembling pity, but that
was ludicrous. It still worried her, though, and watching Draco definitely
wasn't going to help anything, so she rose unsteadily to her feet. Leaning
against the cliff face, she made her way after him, and no one noticed her
departure, that or they didn't care. Being extremely careful not to spill any
of her wine, she stumbled down a small hill before she caught sight of Anton's
form again. She could see him swaying and listing even from where she was, and
sped up as much as was possible without falling and busting her ass.
She finally found him in another cove, smaller then the one they'd
had a picnic in a couple of days before, laying on the sand with the cloak he'd
worn down to the beach spread out underneath him. Wondering if the heating
spells went this far out or if it was just the liquor in her blood keeping her
warm, she must have made some small noise, for his head snapped around. His
eyes were completely glassy and unfocused, and it seemed to take him a few
moments before he recognized her. He didn't say anything, and the alcohol
making her bold, she walked over to him, sitting with him on the rich fabric
and cocking her head to the side.
"Why'd you leave?" She asked, her words sounding funny even
to her, and he rose up on one elbow wobbly.
"Why'd you follow?" He shot back, his words slurring
much worse than hers, and she tried to think about how much he must have had to
drink, but she couldn't concentrate very well, and she kept remembering the
kiss he'd given her earlier.
"You shouldn't be alone." She said lamely, and even in
the state he was in, he managed to look unbelieving of her excuse.
"No, really, Granger. What do you want?" He asked,
draining another good portion of his bottle.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" Stall, Hermione, stall, she thought
desperately, but her brain wasn't working right.
"Just answer the question." He said sharply, and she
sighed, figuring what the hell. He probably wouldn't remember tomorrow anyway.
"I like you." She said, and instead of laughing, he went
eerily and utterly silent. "A lot. I have since
I guess for a long
time." She finished, and he did speak then.
"Liar."
"I am not!"
"Yes, you are." He said simply, dully. "You're
obsessed with Dray, everyone can see that." She froze, not wanting to even
think about that, but not wanting to
lie to him either.
"Draco is with Ginny. He'd never even consider it."
"And what makes you think I would?" Anton questioned
harshly. She flinched, her sluggish brain realizing that this probably hadn't
been the best idea, but she plowed ahead anyway.
"You kissed me earlier."
"Because Blaise thought it would be amusing." He stated,
and her heart sunk to her feet. "As did I."
"Oh, that's really nice, you know." She said
sarcastically, taking another long drink of her wine.
mal>"Maybe. But it's the truth." He said unfeelingly.
"It was funny."
"I'm surprised you could even stomach it, then." She
snapped. "Me being what I am, and all."
"What? A mudblood?" He snorted. "Fucked plenty of
them before." She reeled as if she'd been hit.
"What? But I
thought we disgusted you."
"You do." He said in the same bland tone. "But
there's nothing wrong shagging one of you once or twice as long as you don't
reproduce."
"That's
that's
" She wanted to say that it was
disgusting and degrading, wanted to tell him that he was a complete arse, but
something stilled her tongue. The memory of his snaking into her mouth.
"It's what?" He asked, finishing off his bottle and
tossing it carelessly on the sand. But what popped out of her mouth was not
what she had intended. Or maybe it was.
"You'd shag me?"
Silence. Then, "What!?"
"Would you shag me?" She asked again, the small bit of
what sentience she had left asking what the fuck she was doing. But she didn't
even really know. She was listening to bodybody over her mind for once, and she
didn't even want to stop.
"Are you asking if I will, as in now, or if I would, as in
ever?" He asked with narrowed eyes, and she took a deep breath, plunging
firsfirst into something that she knew she would most assuredly regret.
"If you will, as in now." She blurted, and those
stunning hazel eyes widened.
"You're fucking crazy, Granger, do you know that?"
"Right now? Yes." She answered, downing the rest of her
own bottle and tossing it next to his. Growing ever bolder, she started
unbuttoning her robe, which she'd put back on when they'd left the water. He
was still in nothing but loose, low-hanging green shorts, the moonlight playing
over his sculpted abs and making her breath catch in her throat.
"What are you doing?"
He hissed, and she kept opening her robe inch by inch.
"You said that my kind was good enough to fuck. So fuck
me." At any other time, she would have been mortified at the words
spilling from her lips, but alcohol apparently really was an inhibition destroyer. Her robe slid from her shoulders,
leaving her in only the aqua bathing suit that she still had on, and his eyes
darkened.
"You wanna be fucked, Granger? Fine." He growled, and he
was on her in an instant, pushing her back down onto his cloak.
His lips crashed into hers, the sweet taste of the vodka he'd been
drinking clinging to his mouth, and she kissed him back eagerly. His fingers
felt as if they were burning into her skin as they traveled over her exposed
form, and her top was off and being thrown to the side before she even knew it
was gone. Moaning as his fingers closed on her nipples, she vaguely wondered
why she'd held off on doing this for so long. But then again, most of the boys
that she knew didn't have the first clue about what they were doing. Anton,
undoubtedly, did. Running her hands down his back, she arched into him as his
lips moved to her neck, sucking and nibbling.
Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord, pulling him
closer to her as their mouths meain,ain, tongues dueling hungrily. Passion and
lust engulfed her, and she realized that she'd only thought she'd experienced them before. It had never been remotely
like this. This aching, wanting,
needy desire to be filled, to be fucked into a stupor of nirvana. He ground his
hips against her, her throaty groans ringing through the cove unhindered as his
mouth and hands explored every inch of her. A fingertip ran over her clit and
she screamed, his lips quickly moving back to hers to stifle it as the finger
began moving faster, and she finally broke.
"Please
" She whimpereuckiucking her hips against him
and trying to get more of that glorious friction. "Just be careful at
first. I've never done this before." Slightly amazed that'd she'd even
been able to form a sentence, she didn't ne hie him freeze at first.
"Fuck. You're a virgin?" He asked, starting to pull
away. She clamped her arms around his neck, her legs twining tighter, and
stopped him.
"It doesn't matter. Please." She begged again, her body
practically demanding release.
"This means nothing, you do know that?" He asked
bluntly, but at that point, she really didn't give a fuck.
"Yes. You'll still despise me tomorrow. Now, come on."
She said, pulling at his shorts as her liquor-dazed brain's protests finally
spluttered and died out in favor of getting his pants off, preferably as
quickly as possible.
"As long as you're not expecting more." He said, and was
decidedly gentler after that, though no less intent. He cast a contraceptive
charm, and she was glad one of them had remembered.
Then he seemed to be everywhere, dragging moan after moan from her
before he slid the first finger inside of her. She was so wet at that point
that it didn't hurt at all, just made her want more. When another slid inside
her, there was a moment of pain, but it quickly faded as his other hand worked
her clwhilwhile his fingers began moving in and out of her deliciously. A
minute later, she was screaming as she came, his mouth covering hers once again
while her body shook from its first real orgasm. Slightly stupefied by the
intensity of it, and still quite horny, she felt only a sharp, agonizing stab as
he pushed into her in one smooth, controlled thrust.
Biting back a scream of a different sort, tears springing to her
eyes, she tried to relax. Then his hands smoothed down her sides as he
whispered words of encouragement in her ear and slowly began to move. He was
obviously experienced with taking a virgin, as well. She was sure it should
have hurt more, but the pain disappeared almost immediately, and soon she was
grinding into him, feeling better then she ever had in her life as his pace
picked up, his length pounding into her. He lifted her legs over his shoulders,
shifting his hips, and she was sure that she was going to die from sheer bliss
as she moved to meet his thrusts.
Her vision started going hazy around the edges, and choked cries
poured from her in an unbroken chain as the ecstasy increased beyond what she'd
thought possible. His mouth descended on one nipple, his fingers on the other,
while his other hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clit again with knowledgeable
ease. That undid her, and even his mouth couldn't fully muffle her shrieks as
her world exploded and crashed back down, dragging her along for the ride. He
tensed above her, his biceps flexing and his stomach clenching as she tightened
around him, and he hoarsely whispered a name as he came, jarring her back into
lucidity.
"Pansy."
Then he collapsed next to her bonelessly, not even realizing what
he'd said, and she wondered why she wasn't more upset. Figuring that she would
be when she woke up, as the liquor had already proved that it was causing her
to behcompcompletely out of character, she snuggled up next to him, pulling her
open robe over them both like a blanket. Her chest started to hurt the more she
thought about what he'd murmured, her eyes stinging, and she resolutely pushed
the memory away. Exhausted, her body still extremely giddy and satiated, she
let her eyes fall shut. Her last thought before unconsciousness was if Draco
knew about Anton's true desire, if that was why he'd given him the look that he
had as the other young man had left earlier.
..
Waking with a jolt, Virginia wondered how long
she'd been out. Looking at the moon, she determined that it hadn't been that
long, an hour or two at max. Her boyfriends were still talking to the twins,
but all four looked over when she bolted upright off of Blaise's lap. She'd had
that dream again, the dream that had been haunting all three of them every time
they closed their eyes. Hair like rosewood, skin like bronze. Dark,
green-speckled eyes that held such peace
within their fathomless depths. Something tickled at her memory as it always
did after one of those dreams, and she felt like pulling her hair and screaming
in frutiontion.
"Ginny?" Fred asked. "Are you okay?" He was
trying his damnedest to focus on her, but it wasn't working very well. They'd
all had waaaay too much to drink. But at least no one had been killed.
"Fine, fine." She slurred, still not sober in the least.
"Just a strange dream, is all."
"Alright." He said, a second before he hit the sand with
a thud and started to snore.
Staring for a moment, she took Blaise's bottle out of his hand,
letting swallow after swallow of the fiery liquid run down her throat. George
had gone silent, staring at a shoe (whose shoe, she had no idea), while her
boyfriends were all wobbly, looking at her with as much concern as they could
muster. Considering the slight rocking from side to side, the crystalline
quality of their eyes, and the open, amused smiles on their faces, they were
just as shit-faced drunk as she was. Which was actually quite comforting in a
way. Looking around, she saw most everyone else either asleep, or talking in
low, quiet voices that were almost drowned out by the sound of the waves.
Except for two.
"Where are Anton and Hermione?"
"Hmm?" Draco murmured, having been distracted by a lock
of her hair that he was twisting around his fingers.
"Anton, Hermione. Where are they?" She asked again,
trying to get her thoughts into some sort of comprehensible order. It was a lot
harder then it sounded. Maybe the rest of
Draco's bottle would help, she thought absently, before her boyfriend's
voice made her recall why she'd been trying in the first place.
"Anton went
" Blaise paused, seemed to have to think
quite hard about it, then pointed. "That way. Maybe."
"When?"
"No idea, really." Draco supplied. "It's safe,
though, so what's it matter?"
"He shouldn't sleep out there alone." She said, and they
nodded reluctantly, which made her giggle, because when they moved, there were
two of each of them. "And what about 'Mione?"
"Who fucking cares?" Blaise asked. "Because I'm more then positive that I don't. Maybe
she'll fall off one of the cliffs." He didn't sound as if he was in the
least bit joking, and the reality that that could very well happen hit her
suddenly.
"Damn it!" She cursed, trying to stand.
"What are you doing, cher un?" Draco questioned, trying
to help her but nearly falling over himself.
"Going to find her."
"What?" He asked, his voice laced with the distaste he
felt for the idea. "Why?"
"Because what if she does
fall off a cliff?" Silence. "Exactly.
Gods know, everyone'll say we pushed her or some shit. And Mephite didn't come
with us since she was supposed to stay with one of us all night. She can't be
out in the grounds alone, something will get her."
"Fine." Draco sighed. "I really fucking hate her,
you know. And I really fucking hate that she's even here. Have I reminded you
today that you owe me for eternity for this?"
"Yes, Dray." She said as the three of them finally managed
to get to their feet. "On the hour, every hour."
"Good." He replied, trying to steady her as she almost
fell back down. "And I've decided that Blaise owes me too.&q
"Me?" Blaise asked incredulously, blinking a few times
and nearly stepping on George, who was still very involved with his inspection
of the mysterious shoe.
"Yes. You let her bring her. So it's your fault too."
"Let her? You know how she is!" Blaise said
indignantly, waving at Virginia. Draco snickered.
"You're so whipped."
"I'm whipped? I'm
not the one who gave into mummy and let Harry bloody Potter stay over!"
"You're going to pay for that." Draco growled, and
Blaise sneered.
"Like I did earlier? Pity."
"Umm, hello?" She cut in, wondering if the beach was
really moving or if it was just in her head. "Search mission,
remember?"
"Search mission?" They heard Pansy call out from their
left. "Search mission for who?"
"Anton." Blaise said resolutely, since he obviously
still didn't give a fuck if they found Hermione Kissed and soulless.
"Anton?" Pansy said, looking around blearily. "I
thought he was with you."
"Nope. We'll be back."
"I'm coming with you." The girl said, and Melody, Daphne,
Crabbe and Goyle echoed her. They rose in a clumsy, staggering pile, which drew
some of the Weasleys attention, and finally roused George from his stupor.
"Where are you going?" George asked, and Virginia told him they were
going looking for the two who were missing.
"Hermione?" Ron said, but Virginia ignored him.
"Well, I'm coming too, then."
Still ignoring him, they set off down the beach in the direction
her lovers had seen Anton go. Besides the three of them and the other
Slytherins, Ron, Harry, Charlie and George came with them while the others
slept on undisturbed. Draco and Blaise continued to bicker playfully from
either side of her, and they'd finally made it about forty yards (gods only
knew how), when they found their first clue. Hermione's hair tie, which she'd
borrowed from Virginia after they'd gone
swimming. After another few stumbling yards, filled with many slurred
complaints and off-the-wall comments, Draco stopped, looking around them
thoughtfully.
"I think I know where we might find Anton." He said, and
Blaise glanced around as well, before something flickered in his glazed eyes
and he nodded.
"Yeah, that little cove." He said, and they started out
again, her boyfriends leading the way. They did come to a small cove a little
while later, and her lovers motioned everyone back, while the three of them
crept up as best they could in their conditions. They could have seen fine had
it been pitch black, but the moonlight lit everything up more than enough even
for normal human eyes. What they found shocked the shit out of all three.
"Oh gods! Hermione!?
And
and
Anton!?" Virginia hissed in a startled
whisper, not realizing how well her voice carried against the stone walls.
"What?"
Several people behind them demanded at once, and charged forward.
Crabbe and Goyle made it first, their mouths dropping before they
snapped shut and started smirking in a way that only males can when finding
their friend in such a situation. Charlie and George were next, and their
stunned disbelief was almost palpable. Then came Ron and Harry, Pansy and
Melody. Harry's eyes almost bugged out of his head, Ron turned green and red at
the same time somehow, which was an accomplishment even for him, but Melody and
Daphne
Melody and Daphne looked at Pansy anxiously, wringing their hands
together in a most un-Slytherin-like way. Virginia felt like doing much
the same. She was the girl's best friend, after all. She knew her secret.
"HERMIONE!!!!"
Ron bellowed, his voice echoing wildly and causing them all of them to jump.
Anton shot up from a pallet that appeared to be made up of a velvet robe and
cloak, his wand in hand, before he saw Draco, Blaise and Virginia. Falling back
with a groan and clutching his head, he let his wand fall to the floor. Virginia glanced at her
boyfriends, and saw that they looked torn, half-seriously amused and
half-nauseous as they looked at who their friend was with.
"What?" Anton asked groggily, while Hermione was still
out cold.
"What the fuck did you do to her?" Ron shouted, drawing
Anton's attention to the others in the room. Virginia felt her boyfriends
stiffen when they saw Anton catch sight of Pansy's stricken face, and started
to wonder
But no, he couldn't
Could he?
"I didn't do shit to her that she didn't fucking beg me
for." Anton snarled. His wand was back in his hand in an instant, and he
threw half of the cloak over Hermione as he rose, wrapping the robe around his
waist like a towel. His eyes were still as misty as everyone else's, but he got
to his feet a bit quicker then any of them had managed to do. Probably had
something to do with the wide difference in circumstances.
"You're lying! You-"
"He isn't." Virginia cut in, watching her
friend closely. Funny how being shocked nearly to death had made her head
clearer.
"Why does it even matter?" Anton snapped, glaring.
"None of you have ever given a shit about any of my other meaningless
little one night stands."
"This is Hermione!"
Ron yelled. "Not one of your bloody sex toys!"
"Are you so sure of that?" Anton asked silkily, his
words only slightly off. "It's all a goddamned mudblood is good for
anyway. Get the fuck away from me." He said malevolently when Ron moved
forward. But he didn't do anything when Pansy did, seeming to snap out of her
horrified trance.
"You fucked her?" She hissed, her eyes shining with an
odd, eerie light. "You fucked her?
If you wanted to take a dip in the plebian pool, you could have chosen someone,
anyone, else." His own temper
rising, the alcohol still in his bloodstream fueling it, he bit back.
"What the fuck do you care, Pansy? You're gonna get mad at me
for something that you've done countless times? You're gonna get mad just
because you happen to dislike this one a bit more then most of the others of
her kind? What was it you always told me? 'Fuck
freely but love purely'?"
"So, what, you're gonna get with her?" Pansy questioned,
her nose scrunching in disgust while something else entirely was silently
screaming from inside her brandy-colored eyes. Anton sneered, his own eyes
speaking volumes to those who knew him well.
"Haven't you been listening at all?" He stressed in a low whisper, as if being as quiet as
possible was the only way to stop himself from losing it completely and
screaming. "Why in the fuck would I get with her? I ret myt my heritage
just as much as you do, and I'd rather cut my own fucking legs off in the first
place. And how could I
" He paused, as if debating on whether to say more,
and Virginia was distantly aware of her boyfriends throwing aural shields up as
if they knew what was about to happen, and had no intention, even while drunk,
to let the Gryffindors hear it.
"How could you what?"
Pansy demanded, and Anton stalked forward, listing only the tiniest bit.
"I-" He started, but then Hermione stirred. Pansy's eyes
flew to her, filling with rage, and Virginia swore that she heard her
boyfriends cackle delightedly, dropping the shields, when Pansy sprung without
another word, driven by instinct, slamming into the other girl and pinning her
to the ground.
"P-Pan-"
"Shut up!" One
of Pansy's hands was around the girl's throat, the other holding her arms above
her head. "I could kill you, you know. No one would blame me, or even
know. I'd walk free, and you'd rot in a hole somewhere, finally leaving us all
the fuck alone. But I won't. Because what do you think it's going to be like
now? Look around, little mudblood, because too many eyes have seen this. Too
many have seen the Head Girl whore for one of our own. Too many now know that
the lion let itself be broken by the snake. Do you know what they call people
like you? What they will call you? Slytherin's
slut. The other Houses aren't as open with casual sex as we are, and you just
broke a whole slew of their cardinal rules. Have fun bearing the weight of your
new title, bitch."
..
(laughs evilly) Review! I made this chapter extra long for you
guys, just 'cause I love ya! Not to mention it's out waaaay early. So, if you
love me at all, please review!
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