Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Out of the Silent Planet	By : moirasfate Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 71680 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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
- 17
- 18
- 19
Title: Out of the Silent Planet (18/39)
Author: moirasfate/ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Plot driven smut, Darkfic, Romance, Drama, Angst...
Warnings: M/F, Bondage, slight non-con, some voyeurism, oral, Dom/sub issues, Dark!Draco, and HBP spoilers.
Summary: Post-Hogwarts - Hermione Granger fulfills Severus Snape's final wish, to journey to Japan to �retrieve' something of importance. Set eleven years after HBP.
Author's Notes: This is my first DM/HG ficlet, so please be kind to the newbie! The title of this fic is taken from C.S. Lewis' book, first in the Perelandra Chronicles.

Many thanks to kazfeist for improving this chapter!

Out of the Silent Planet
Chapter Eighteen - Of libertines, auctions, and decadence.

Draco held Hermione's hand tightly against his arm as they walked down the sweeping staircase to meet the eyes that had followed them when they had appeared at the top of the stairs. The silver hand that pressed against Hermione's was cold, but pulsing slightly, sending tingles through her body. As if the eyes upon her body were not enough to make her self-conscious, the cool air of the castle made the tiny hairs on her bare arms stand on end.

The first person Hermione noticed was Viktor, as she and Draco made it halfway down the stairs. Viktor was frowning, his heavy brow shading his violet eyes. The bulky Bulgarian stood with his arms crossed before his chest at the back of an assembled crowd of people Hermione did not immediately recognize. Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, Draco pulled Hermione along as they continued to follow Blaise and Daphne into the dining room. Ignoring the eyes upon her bare back, Hermione focused on the wonderful idea of soon eating food.

In a gesture of possession, Draco placed Hermione in her seat, pushing on her shoulders after pulling out her chair so that she sat down stiffly. She sat at Blaise's left as he, the host, sat at the head of the table, with Daphne to his right and directly across from Hermione. To Daphne's right, Viktor fell heavily into his seat, scowling as his eyes were fixed on the lingering fingers on Hermione's bare throat as Draco moved around to sit at Hermione's left. The other guests similarly sat down, six guests, not counting the ones Hermione immediately recognized.

Glancing across the table to Daphne, Hermione smiled. Daphne wore a long navy blue silk dress with a high-throated collar that smoothed over her large chest in a strangulating bodice. The dress was sleeveless, and the collar was decorated with what looked like star shaped diamonds, but Daphne did not return Hermione's smile and seemed quite out of sorts. Her matching navy blue eyes dulled as the hum of the other guests' voices filled the dining room.

Turning her eyes to glance down the opposite side the table, Hermione studied each face independently. Next to Viktor sat a spindly thin witch who Hermione did not know. This woman smiled tightly, noticing Hermione's gaze, her face pinching slightly, making her appear to be at least ten years older than Hermione. The witch had golden blonde hair and sharp pale blue eyes. Hermione could tell that the witch was slightly intoxicated for her pointed, pale cheeks were a bit pink, and her eyes a bit glassy despite studying Hermione with a mixture of distaste and jealousy. Next to the unknown witch sat two wizards who peered through the white lilac spray centrepiece to eye Hermione lecherously. Finally, they turned to speak to each other, grinning widely, and she had the distinct feeling that they were talking about her in some fashion that would �most likely be inappropriate. At the end of the table sat a large, burly man, quite older than the rest of the guests assembled. Hermione seemed to think that she knew this man...if she remembered correctly it was Ivan Volkov, the retired Beater for the Bulgarian National Team. Volkov appeared to be brooding and brooding unpleasantly as he picked his crooked, yellow teeth with a long, browned fingernail, a gold ring glinting on his fat pinkie in the candlelight filtering down from the Charmed space above the table.

Hermione cleared her throat and pulled her napkin from her fine bone china plate to place it on her lap, trying her best not to seem too out of place. Even looking to Viktor at such a time of discomfort was difficult, for Viktor seemed to glare at Draco and only glance wistfully at Hermione. Draco, meanwhile, was trying not to engage in into conversation with the woman to his left, a woman who seemed to know Draco quite well, and who talked incessantly in a voice that reminded Hermione of a high-pitched whistling teakettle.

Finally, dinner was served, the courses appearing on the plates magically, and the smell of the food making Hermione want to salivate. The first course was creamy risotto with mushrooms, and wine kept refilling in Hermione's crystal stemmed glass, a golden elf wine that tasted sweeter than the bitter Muggle version. Conversations continued, although Hermione was too hungry to catch much of what was said.

Between the end of the first course and beginning of the second, Blaise rose from his seat, and cleared his throat loudly to demand the attention of the room.

"Now that we have had a bit of food in our bellies, I would like to formally thank you all for coming once again to my annual dinner party."

Hermione dabbed her lips and gazed up at Blaise who stood regally in a long black dress coat which overlay clothes that Hermione had not noticed before...tight fitting black leather breeches and a loose fitting black shirt that was held only slightly closed with ties revealing his well-toned abdominal and chest muscles through the gap in the thin fabric. The long black coat Hermione had first assumed was a new fashion in dress robes, but she had been too angry and overwhelmed with Viktor and Draco to really think much on what Blaise had been wearing when he and Daphne had come to collect her for dinner.

"We are fewer this year, but...we have been graced by the return of an old friend. Draco, stand up and present yourself," Blaise said deeply with a sardonic smirk on his sculpted lips.

Draco growled, and out of the corner of Hermione's eye, she saw that Draco had not risen but was flashing a rude hand gesture toward Blaise, causing everyone but Hermione and Viktor to chortle and snort. Blaise inclined his head to Draco and continued.

"I am glad to see Ivan and his lovely mistress, Yvette, with us again..."

The man at the end of the table grinned, and the lady at Volkov's right chortled deeply into her hands, her long and shaggy black hair falling across her exotic face.

"The brothers Fabian and Rory MacFadden, here again to celebrate with us��

The two men who had peered through the centrepiece at Hermione stood and bowed in unison, winking at Hermione unabashedly. Slyly, Hermione felt Draco's right hand slip on her thigh under the table, his fingernails digging through the satin and into the flesh of her thigh.

"Viktor and his wife, Giselle, a pleasure as always..."

Hermione blinked, turning her eyes slowly toward the opposite side of the table, where Viktor was apparently making a point not to look at Hermione, but at his plate. The blonde woman with pale eyes smiled tightly again and nodded to Blaise.

Hermione had never known...why?

"Gavril and Tracey, Slytherin friends...who missed last year because someone was giving birth to twins..."

Hermione barely registered Blaise's mention of the word 'Slytherin,' staring blankly at Viktor who seemed to want to collapse in on himself and disappear.

"I've already mentioned Draco, so let me introduce Miss Hermione Granger, also a Hogwarts alum, and new to our party..."

Hermione jumped at the sound of clapping as several voices rang out to welcome Hermione warmly while others, particularly Volkov, grunted in acknowledgment.

"And of course you all know my beautiful companion, Daphne. She has outdone herself again this year by arranging the meal..."

Again several voices rang out, thanking Daphne who smiled wanly, and turned her gaze to Blaise again.

"So let us toast another year..."

Hermione had only enough mental fortitude to raise her glass in toast and sip on her wine. Thus the second course began--grilled lake trout with butter sauce...

* * *

She was in a daze, overwhelmed, but beneath all of that, disappointed.

Dinner progressed, and Hermione did not let her eyes fall upon Viktor again as course after course appeared on their plates. As hungry as Hermione had been, she could not now enjoy her meal. Perhaps it was a strange tension in the air, combined with the fact that Hermione felt as if a man of whom she had been so fond in the past had betrayed her, in a sense.

Hermione wished more than ever that she were home.

Draco was speaking softly to Blaise, his voice passing over Hermione in cold waves, and when she felt a cool hand upon her right hand which clutched her fork, she snapped out of her daze...her eyes meeting those of Blaise Zabini.

"You do not look well, Miss Granger, does the meal not please you?"

His voice drifted over her, deep and comforting, the tone of which was quite more sincere than she would have imagined.

"I am tired, I suppose," Hermione whispered, her eyes falling to her plate of white asparagus and buttered rice.

"You have had much excitement today, I am sure. Perhaps it was wrong of me to tell you who our guests were in such a manner..."

Hermione shook her head. "No...I don't think..." she began, but Blaise continued, squeezing her hand slightly and forcing her to meet his eyes again. He was smiling slightly, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

"We are all friends here, and despite what you might believe about dear Mr. and Mrs. Krum..."

Hermione blinked, had her reaction to the knowledge of Viktor's marriage been so plainly expressed on her face?

"...They were not wed out of love or affection. I doubt they are even friends."

She glanced at Viktor, who had pushed his plate out of the way to lean over a glass of wine and sulk.

"Giselle is more interested in the guests to her right than to the husband on her left..."

The MacFadden brothers sat to the blonde witch's right, both of them leaning toward the woman with hungry eyes and soft, grinning mouths. Hermione shuddered at the wanton display of lechery upon their faces.

"...Viktor and Giselle rarely appear together in public, but they come here every year, wishing to forget even for a night that they are bound in marriage. I suspect they most likely hate each other, and love to see each other in the arms of others, thus blaspheming that bond they undertook to make, more out of the urgings of others than that of love."

Blaise's fingers had moved from the back of Hermione's hand to caress the curve of her wrist. As if his voice were not hypnotic enough, the feather light caresses upon her wrist were sending tiny electrical currents through her body straight down to her feminine core, making her blush slightly, mostly out of shame.

"What do you mean...they come every year?" Hermione whispered breathlessly, her eyes glancing across the table to Daphne who had leaned back in her chair, and was holding a glass of elf wine before her lips, her eyes gazing dully at Blaise.

Blaise grinned. "We have dinner first, and then begin our games. Last year we drew lots to see with whom we would find pleasure in our company, and the year before that we decided to have a game of 'spin the bottle,' a bit Muggle, if you ask me, but it was interesting..."

She frowned. What did Blaise mean?

"Last year I had Katie Bell-Flint, while old Volkov had Daphne...it was interesting, to say the least."

Hermione's eyes widened as she glanced at Daphne who had placed her glass on the table and leaned toward Blaise, her beautiful lips pressed tightly in a line of distaste.

"This year will be an auction, but the bodies on the auction block have yet to be chosen..." Blaise purred his fingertips brushing the side of Hermione's Venus mons just below her thumb.

"Speaking of which, I should have the elves set out dessert...that is how I have decided to select those up for bid."

With a snap of his fingers, the empty plates of food disappeared, only Gavril Urquhart protesting slightly as he was about to lift the last bit of his rice from his plate. With a flourish and the sudden wave of the scent of strawberries, dessert appeared at every place setting. There were a plate of gelato, strawberries, chocolate mousse and other scrumptious sweets.

"My friends, if I may have your attention," Blaise called, standing up at the head of the table, giving Hermione's wrist one last fleeting caress. "As you know, the theme of our party this year is an auction. I laid out the rules before dinner, but now we will learn who will be standing upon the auction block. Your desserts, which I hope you all enjoy, are upon plates that have been altered. If you should happen to have a plate with the Zabini crest underneath your dessert, you are an item up for bidding. If not, well, you should prepare your purses to be lightened a bit this evening.

Once you have won a bid, you cannot bid again... Now, enjoy your dessert, for the auction will start in approximately twenty minutes in the sitting room...cigars and brandy for the gents, sherry and sweets for the ladies..."

Hermione tensed at the sound of giddy and half-drunken laughter that filled the dinning room. Blaise took his seat again and smiled at Hermione.

"You should check your plate, Miss Granger..."

Hermione flinched, and slowly moved her hands to take up her small dessert spoon. The room fell quiet besides the sounds of silver scrapping against china as the guests began pushing about the iced cream and chocolate sauce to search for a mark under their food.

"Giselle is up for bidding!" Fabian MacFadden exclaimed, delirious laughter issuing from his brother Rory's mouth at the news.

"Gavril..." said another.

"Rory..."

"Yvette..."

Hermione glanced over at Daphne who had dropped her spoon into her plate with a clatter. "I am up for bidding," she announced, her voice cheery despite the dull expression on her face.

"That only leaves Draco and Hermione," Tracey Urquhart announced, and Hermione winced as all eyes fell upon them.

Draco sighed and moved his spoon over his plate with a loud scrape. Hermione watched through anxious eyes as she saw that Draco's china plate was not marked.

"Hermione?" Blaise asked quietly, for Hermione had her spoon poised over her plate, but had not yet made a motion. Swallowing thickly with a fear whose source she could not pinpoint, Hermione scraped back the flow of cream and chocolate to find a black crest...two black snakes entwined around a green olive tree and a silver crown hovering above the heads of the snakes.

"Hermione is up for bidding," Blaise announced, and the dining room filled with applause.

Hermione was frozen in her seat, ignoring the sounds of the other guests eating their dessert and talking about the auction and the wares that would be sold. Hermione could not get her mind to move and her hand trembled, dropping her spoon into her plate.

"Blaise, I don't think that Hermione should..." Daphne began, but Blaise raised a hand to silence the navy-blue-eyed witch. Daphne bit her tongue and her eyes flashed brightly for a moment before she sat back in her seat again, hugging her arms before her large bosom.

"Hermione, are you game for a bit of sport?" Blaise asked, grasping her shaking hand in his and squeezing gently.

Hermione glanced at Blaise, suddenly afraid of the kind mask that was beginning to slip from the dark man's elegant and intelligent face. She found that she was at last faced with a man who masqueraded as a kind host, but was in fact as devious and perhaps as mad as Draco. The difference was that Draco was mad from the effects of circumstance and time, but Blaise was the sort of mad that was brought about by aberrant and twisted indulgence... Suddenly the reason for Daphne's sorrow seemed clearer to Hermione.

"She will not be participating," a voice sounded near her left ear and she was pulled slightly toward the source of the voice, a warm arm draping around her shoulders protectively.

"Your protest has been noted, Draco, but you unfortunately, have no say in the matter. You agreed to the terms earlier, and the only way to insure that you have Miss Granger is to win her at auction," Blaise stated blandly, his strange green eyes flickering with an internal fire that startled Hermione more than anything that Draco had said, done, or implied, to Hermione in the past.

"What...what is this?" Hermione whispered, mesmerized by Blaise's commanding presence at her side.

Blaise smirked, and lifted his glass to his sculpted lips, sipping quietly before answering.

"If I am to read into your question a bit, my dear woman, I should answer that this is the lifestyle of a libertine.

Apparently, it is a concept quite new to you, Miss Granger, and that fact warms my heart greatly. You always seemed an innocent, and although it is a quaint and beautiful thing, I look forward to stealing your innocence by drowning you in the fetid waters of decadence.

Every person here, man and woman, takes pride in the fact that they can indulge their innermost desires at this libertine soiree...it is a yearly treat for us. We leave notions of love, marriage, family, and duty at the threshold of the Castle�s door. And for twelve days, we live the life that we were born into...only you are the one who does not know of this world, the world of Pureblooded wizarding lines."

Hermione flinched at Blaise's vocal inflection, which clearly intimated that she was something less than human by being a Muggleborn witch...and the fear began to drain away to leave raw anger in its place.

"But we take no offence with Muggleborn witches...in fact many Muggleborn witches and wizards have been initiated into our group through the years. The Creevy brothers could not come this year because of a large assignment in the Congo, photographing some newly discovered magical beast in its habitat for the Magical Geographic Society. Dean and Padma Thomas came two years ago...as well as Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff alum, along with his partner that he met years ago at Cambridge...the list goes on and on. But the point is, we hold no prejudices here, and gather solely for the expression of our inner selves."

Horror and anger filled Hermione as she shrugged out of Draco's protective embrace. It was reckless...all of what Blaise had said. Libertine? Who did Zabini think he was...the Marquis de Sade, re-enacting the 'simple' pleasures of the �120 Days of Sodom?� She felt nauseous, and lifted her hand to her mouth at the thought of that reprehensible book and the situation in which she now found herself.

"You fear for yourself, Miss Granger? You should not. We are neither savages nor lawless reprobates. Everything at our parties are done by consenting adults, fully aware of what will occur.

Perhaps it was wrong of me to allow you to be a part of this party, not knowing what would be expected of you, but you are an adult, Miss Granger, and you have willingly come here, in the know or not. Thus you are part of this...this debauchery, shall we say?" Blaise finished with a smirk.

Hermione swallowed the bile gathering in her throat at Zabini's words. Her eyes cast about the guests sitting around the table. Daphne was smiling slightly, her eyes no longer dulled, but sparkling with unshed tears as she stared at Hermione sympathetically. Even Viktor was staring at her with a pained expression, hinting at an undercurrent of want and jealousy in his violet eyes as Draco again wrapped his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close to press his lips to her ear.

"Shall I be merciful and hide you away, Hermione, to save your sense of decency? Or should I let you lie with another, forgoing the oath between us?" Draco growled in her ear, the grip of his hand on her right shoulder pinching her muscle and skin painfully. "If you let them touch you...I will kill you, do you understand?"

She edged her fingers along her thigh to the slit of her dress skirts where she had tucked her wand into her stocking along her inner thigh. If she had to, she would stun everyone in the room and run...damn the consequences. It was madness; all of it, and Draco's words only confirmed this fact. Hermione felt as if she were suffocating and being crushed at the same time. There was nowhere to turn, no one to protect her, no one to take her away from this insanity. Not Draco and not Viktor, who both were willing participants in this debacle.

"You have nearly run out of time, Miss Granger, the auction will start. Shall you present yourself as a frightened doe on the auction block, and attract the attentions of those who will revel in your fear and spend exorbitant sums of money to win you? Or will you present yourself as you truly are; regal, strong and brave, like the Gryffindor you were so long ago? It is totally up to you, Hermione..." Blaise whispered, caressing her flushed cheek before rising and reaching out to Daphne who rose to her feet, while sending Hermione a heartbreaking smile.

"Ladies and gentleman, the time has come. If you will follow me into the sitting room, the festivities will begin."

* * *

It was a room swathed in black, and Hermione felt as if she had stepped into a nightmare as she stood in the middle of a line of bodies, her bare back broiling before the fireplace. The walls were draped in black velvet hangings, the various divans, ottomans before wing-backed chairs upholstered in black silk damask, even the marble of the fireplace was black. The lush carpet, the glasses of wine, whiskey and sherry made from ash blasted crystal in various shapes for various liquors, the candles floating overhead, even the vaulted ceiling, it was all black.

The buyers sat lounging on the various divans and chairs, although Viktor sat on the edge of his seat, his elbows resting on his knees, his large hands clasped under his chin and his amethyst eyes staring at Hermione. Draco leaned back into the divan, a soot-coloured glass stem poised between the silver fingers of his left hand. He, too, looked sulky and sighed often as Blaise saw that the buyers were comfortable with drinks or sweetly scented cigars.

Hermione shivered as the eyes of Fabian MacFadden and Ivan Volkov roamed over her bare skin. To her left Rory MacFadden was chuckling into Gavril Urquhart's ear, whispering something apparently obscene for Urquhart blushed slightly and swatted MacFadden's hand off his shoulder. To Hermione's right stood Daphne, who seemed to have her eyes fixed on the floor, her hands clasped before her in a pose of absolute submission.

"Pray that Volkov does not buy you, Hermione," Daphne whispered.

Hermione bit her lip. "How can you allow this?"

"I just do...I used to enjoy it much more, but now I am tired of it."

"Then why?"

"For Blaise...it amuses him."

Hermione turned slightly to stare at the side of Daphne's face, and the dark curls that had fallen from the silver pins and softened about her face.

"But..." Hermione began.

"He is not my husband...but he is the father of my son, and although I would like to be Blaise's wife, this arrangement is much better."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, wondering how in the world Daphne could stand this treatment...

"Blaise is mine three hundred and fifty three days out of the year, but for these twelve days, I get to know what it could have been like if I had never known Blaise. Despite what you might think, Hermione, Blaise is very good to me and the reason he will not marry me is because he would not want to bring me shame by being an adulterer... After these twelve days he will cleave to me, knowing that there is no one better than me for him...and someday...he will settle down and marry me. Until then, these yearly games continue, and I wait."

It was wrong in so many ways, and Hermione could not imagine how painful it was for Daphne to live with a man who would bed but not marry her; father her children but never be the true fatherly figure...or the husband figure that Daphne wanted. Hermione knew that if she were in Daphne's place, she would leave Blaise, take her child, and find someone who would love them both. Hermione felt her anger return, and her eyes burned into Blaise's back as he talked quietly with Fabian MacFadden.

If this was how Purebloods entertained themselves, Hermione was proud to be Muggleborn.

"Now that everyone is settled, I will present our first item up for bid," Blaise announced, moving to stand just before the line that Hermione stood in, his back to Hermione and his arms spread in a gesture of showmanship.

"First is Giselle, step forward dear..."

Hermione's eyes locked onto Viktor, whose eyes were looking anywhere but at his wife, his distaste, and disinterest very clear.

"One thousand Galleons!" Fabian MacFadden exclaimed, rising his arm into the air.

"I have not opened the bid, yet, Fabian...but I will start with one thousand," Blaise chuckled, moving to place a hand on Giselle Krum's white clothed shoulder.

The others chuckled as Fabian blushed and dropped his arm into his lap.

"I hear one thousand, anyone for fifteen hundred?" Blaise purred, his lips caressing Giselle Krum's cheek as he spoke making the horribly thin witch blush and push at Blaise's chest playfully.

"Fifteen," Tracey giggled.

"Two thousand?" Blaise continued, burying his long dark fingers into Giselle's hair, pulling it down from the pins to cascade over her shoulder.

"Two," Viktor grunted.

Fabian MacFadden burst out in laughter. "You would pay for your wife, Vik?"

Viktor said nothing in return, but lowered his hand and replaced it under his chin, scowling horribly.

"Three thousand then, for this dulcet darling of a woman?" Blaise asked, moving to stand behind Giselle Krum who was now quite flushed as Blaise ran his long fingers around her bony hips and began pulling the skirts of her dress up in bunches in his hands.

"Three!" Fabian exclaimed, glancing around to the other bidders.

"I hear three..." Blaise purred, dropping Giselle's skirts before the hem had reached above her pale and sharp knees. "Any other bids?" he asked then, moving to stand at the woman's side again as the room remained silent. "Draco? Ivan? Any other bids?"

The room remained silent, but Fabian MacFadden was barely able to contain his excitement and stood quickly, slopping whiskey down the front of his dress jacket.

"Sold to Mr. MacFadden for three thousand Galleons!"

Tepid applause filled the room, and Blaise grinned as he violently shoved Giselle Krum into the waiting arms of Fabian MacFadden. The look on the woman's face was strange as Hermione studied it, a mixture of surprise and perhaps disgust, or was that�pleasure? Hermione could not tell. Fabian grasped the thin woman's hair and pulled her into a hungry kiss. Hermione winced as the sound of ripping cloth filled the room and Giselle Krum's bodice fell to her waist as Fabian MacFadden devoured Giselle's small and high breasts, pulling her to fall with him onto the divan, kissing and touching in a manner that did not seem unfamiliar to either party.

"Not fair, Fabian!" Rory MacFadden whined comically and stomped his foot into the carpet.

"Next up for bid...Gavril, look a little more enthusiastic, will you?" Blaise scolded, pulling the short haired, wide shouldered man in a black swallowtail coat forward. Hermione did not remember Gavril Urquhart well, only that he had been a year ahead of her and in Slytherin. He was shorter compared to Blaise, who was running his fingers through Urquhart's cropped brown hair.

"Shall I open the bid at one thousand?"

Tracey Urquhart nee Davis, whom Hermione remembered also was in Slytherin and in her year raised her hand, giggling. She was a pretty witch with a jovial face prone to giggling, but Hermione remembered also that this girl had always been somewhat annoying to be around. Tracey was quite talkative with a high-pitched, nasal voice, and had been friends with Pansy Parkinson in school, but other than that, Hermione knew nothing of her.

"Fifteen hundred?" Blaise continued.

No one made a motion to bid.

"Oh, doesn't anyone besides this man's wife want him? He is quite dapper and strong, look at his lovely face..." Blaise chuckled, grasping Urquhart's square chin and displaying his plain face like a piece of merchandise.

"Two thousand," a voice grunted from Hermione's left, and she recognized the voice as belonging to Ivan Volkov.

Yvette, Volkov's mistress, snorted at the end of the line and seemed to growl under her breath.

"No other bids?"

Again, silence.

"Sold! Have fun Gavril..."

Blaise did not push Urquhart as he had Giselle Krum, but did nudge the man toward Volkov, who seemed pleased with his buy, and stood as Urquhart approached. Grasping the younger man's neck with one meaty hand, Volkov pulled Urquhart to the door.

"Why, where ever are you going, Ivan?" Blaise asked in a voice of mock surprise.

"Ze bedroom...I am done here," Volkov grunted, pulling a docile Urquhart along out of the room and up the stairs beyond.

Blaise burst out in laughter as Tracey giggled. "Be sure to be good to him in the future, Tracey...I know Volkov will not."

Hermione felt her whole body trembling, glad that the odious Volkov had made his choice earlier. Looking at the rotund man, Hermione could tell he was cruel by the look on his face and the way he presented himself. She was also glad that Fabian MacFadden had chosen Giselle, and that his brother Rory was not bidding. Even as Fabian had Giselle Krum on the divan, suckling at the woman's small breasts, he watched Hermione through wanton eyes.

"Next is Rory...but I think I will just give him to Tracey, since I know that Viktor does not like other men and Draco...

Draco would you like Rory?"

Hermione's eyes snapped to Draco, who had been watching Fabian and Giselle on the divan beside where he sat with a smirk on his lips.

"Fuck you, Zabini..." Draco chuckled.

"Ah, but when was the last time you buggered someone, Draco?" Blaise mocked, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

Rory laughed nervously, blushing.

"Since the last time I saw you, Blaise," Draco purred before sipping the last of his wine.

"Well, then. Tracey?"

Tracey Urquhart giggled, flouncing to her feet, and stumbled toward Blaise and Rory, taking the pale man's hand and dragging him off through the door of the sitting room.

"Now here's where the fun begins... At this point, I would like Daphne to moderate the bids because I will now be participating. Daphne, if you would please..."

Daphne nodded, and stepped forward, turning to Hermione, grasping her hand to pull her forward to stand at Daphne's side. "I shall open the bidding for Miss Hermione Granger at two thousand."

"That's a bit steep, Daphne," Blaise drawled.

"Oui, iz not fair!" Yvette growled, and for the first time Hermione that the woman in the long black dress with the shaggy black mane and yellow eyes was a werewolf, and by the looks of it, a werewolf that had opted not to be cured. Yvette stepped forward, and glared at Hermione as if she wanted to rip Hermione's throat out.

"I will not lower the bid. If no one will bid, I say we dissolve this farce of a game. All of our money is going to charity in any case," Daphne intoned firmly, glancing at the three men who were left, and ignoring the sounds of Giselle and Fabian moaning on the divan off to the left.

"Ah, my darling...shall we alter the game a bit? We all want sweet Miss Granger, I believe, even you, if only to let her sleep in peace tonight," Blaise said with a laugh.

"I vill bid two thousand."

Hermione glanced at Viktor, wondering how in the world he could stand to be in the same room while a man not her husband was ravishing his wife on the couch.

"Two thousand," Daphne repeated, squeezing Hermione's hand in hers. "Do I hear twenty five hundred?"

"Twenty five," Blaise sighed.

"Thirty five," Viktor muttered.

"Four thousand." Blaise again, his eyes glittering and voice rising.

"I hear four...any thing else, Viktor? Draco?"

Hermione wanted to vomit. Draco was only smirking, twirling the stem of his glass between his fingers.

"Five thousand," Viktor grunted.

Blaise glanced at Viktor, a tight smile on his lips.

"Ten thousand."

Daphne was squeezing Hermione's hand so tightly that she was sure that bones were cracking. Hermione wanted to scream: this was too ridiculous to continue.

"I hear ten thousand from Blaise...Viktor? Draco will you not bid?" Daphne said tightly.

"Fifteen thousand," Viktor sighed, falling back into his chair, his face betraying a confidence as if he had won.

"Well, my limit was ten...you have won, Vik-"

"Fifty thousand Galleons, Daphne."

It had been Draco who had spoken, the crystal stem between his silver fingers snapping and the glass falling in two pieces to the carpet below.

"Fifty thousand. Do you want to challenge, Viktor?" Daphne asked, finally loosening her vicelike grip on Hermione's hand.

Viktor said nothing, but was flushed and appeared angry enough to hex Draco with the anger in his eyes.

"Sold to Mr. Malfoy for fifty thousand."

Daphne released Hermione's hand and finally smiled, a true smile.

"Do you have that kind of money, Draco?" Blaise asked.

"I am a Malfoy, Zabini...what do you think?"

* * *

"Malfoy!"

Hermione stood just outside the door of her chambers, Draco holding her wrist possessively to pull her inside when Viktor's voice rang out from down the candlelit corridor. Draco snarled and turned as Viktor stalked down the corridor, his wand drawn.

"I vill not haff you near Hermione!"

Draco chuckled, whipping Hermione by the wrist into the room and slamming the door shut as she fell onto the floor of the sitting room. With a quick jump, Hermione had her wand drawn from her stocking and was on her feet, trying to pull the door open. The oaken door was sealed shut, but she could hear Draco's and Viktor's voices through the wood.

"Shall we duel, Krum?"

"Yes!"

Hermione began pulling harder on the door, and when that proved fruitless, she stepped back and began casting every unlocking charm she could think of on the door... to no avail. A blasting curse, a cutting curse, nothing would work as she could hear snarling and the hiss of spells and curses cutting the air outside the door.

"Damn you both! Open this door!" she screamed at the old oak door.

Glass shattered somewhere outside the door and Hermione heard grunts and muttered profanity as well as the pound of boots against the floor. She dropped her wand on the carpet, and began pounding with both fists on the door, hurling imprecations at the door to open.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity later, a loud explosion rattled the stones of the castle sending Hermione falling back from the door into a heap on the carpet. Suddenly all went silent outside the door. Hermione was panting and screamed when the door slammed open.

"Hermione?"

Daphne stood in the doorway, smoke, and dust flying in around the woman's body from the corridor outside.

Hermione whimpered and slowly rose to her feet. "Daphne..."

"Are you all right?"

Hermione blinked at Daphne, and rushed toward her to try and get into the corridor, but Daphne caught Hermione in her arms, holding her back.

"Careful! There's glass everywhere!"

Hermione peered out into the hall, glass was indeed all over the carpet, which was singed in places, chunks of stone wall littered the corridor and the smell of burnt flesh and blood filled Hermione's nostrils. Hermione's eyes widened as they alighted on the form of Draco lying on the floor, his hair loose, and his face blackened with ash, unconscious atop a shard-strewn, blackened carpet and small crater in the floor. A bit further down the corridor, Viktor was in the same state, his dinner jacket in tatters, his burnt hand wrapped around the charred remains of his wand.

"Tsk...tsk..."

Blaise Zabini stood in the middle of the corridor, between the prone forms of his two guests, wiping ash from his shoulders and shaking shards of glass from his braided hair.

"Is Hermione all right, Daphne?" Blaise called.

"She's fine," Daphne answered, releasing Hermione to stumble slightly into the corridor. Further down the corridor, Volkov stood naked, his wand at the ready and his huge member standing obscenely erect from his large body. Rory and Tracey stood also in dressing gowns, whispering to each other in the doorway of their room. Even Fabian and Giselle were present, both in a state of undress, hovering about the top of the stairs. Yvette stood behind a candelabrum close to Blaise, snarling and growling as if she had wanted to fight as well.

"It's all right, everyone! Continue with your merrymaking, everything is fine!" Blaise called, flicking his wand to repair the window at the end of the corridor, shards flying through the air to re-conform to what had been a stained-glass pane.

With grumbles, the guests returned or entered their respective rooms, leaving only the two unconscious wizards, Blaise, Daphne, Yvette and Hermione in the corridor.

"Daphne, will you attend to Viktor? I am afraid you will not be enjoying him much this evening," Blaise said with a sigh.

Daphne nodded, and smiled reassuringly at Hermione before producing her wand and casting a charm to float Viktor out of the corridor and into the room directly across from Hermione and Draco's suite.

"Yvette, darling, let me take care of dear Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger; I will join you shortly."

Hermione blinked as Yvette removed her lithe form from the corridor and prowled through the door to the chambers just next to Hermione's. The expression on the werewolf's face was one of awe and respect for Blaise. Blaise flicked his wand at Draco, setting him afloat, and steered the blond wizard's body toward Hermione. In through the open door and through the sitting room, Hermione followed. Depositing Draco onto the large bed, Blaise sighed at the state of Draco's dirty face.

"You must be something special, Hermione..." Blaise breathed, leaning against the poster of the bed, shoving his wand into his long coat. "Pimsy!"

Hermione jumped as the elf popped into the room next to the bed.

"Si, Master?"

"Heal Mr. Malfoy, and clean him up a bit. Also, have the elves repair the rest of the corridor. Between Draco, Viktor and myself, we have made a bit of a mess."

"Si, Master, it will be done immediately..."

At once, the elf crawled onto the bed, and sat down beside Draco's body, waving a hideous gnarled hand over Draco's form, and the soot and dust disappeared.

Blaise approached Hermione, grasping her by the shoulders and steered her back into the sitting room to place her on the divan before the fire. Sitting close at her side, Blaise smiled.

"He'll be fine..." he said reassuringly, his dark hand lingering on Hermione's bare shoulder. "Unfortunately, he will not be able to take pleasure in his purchase tonight. Shall I do so in his stead?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, and pushed Blaise's hand from her shoulder, scooting away from her dark-skinned host.

"Poor Hermione..." Blaise chuckled, shrugging out of his coat before summoning a glass of whiskey from the sideboard so that it whizzed to land in his outstretched hand.

"You do not need to keep me company, Zabini," Hermione whispered maliciously.

"Oh, but I want to...I had so wanted to buy you, Hermione."

Hermione huffed. "I am not some whore to be bought."

"That is true...but you were bought, Hermione, and for a hefty sum I might add. And if I had let the duel in the corridor continue, you would have been won by either Draco or Viktor... whom would you have preferred? Hm?"

Hermione said nothing, but glared at Blaise as he threw back his whiskey and threw the empty glass into the fireplace, his eyes lit and reflected with flames. The sound of shattering glass made Hermione jump, and before she could react, Blaise had grabbed her to push her down on the divan.

Hermione screamed, hitting at Blaise with her sore fists as he bit at her throat and pulled at the low front of her dress so that her breasts were bared.

"Get off me, Zabini!"

Blaise hummed, pushing Hermione's dress up, catching her flailing legs to force himself in between. Lips against lips, Hermione froze as Blaise's fingers brushed the tops of her stockings, roaming upward slowly to the edge of where Hermione was slightly sore and aching.

She hated herself; the excitement, the decadence, the struggle, arousing her with its horror and violence. Hermione shut her eyes as Blaise's whiskey taste filled her mouth, his tongue tracing the roof of her mouth, her teeth, her tongue. She tried to bite down, but Blaise quickly pulled away, his tongue running along her cheek to taste the tears that had been squeezed from between her eyelashes.

Hermione squirmed, trying to scratch at Blaise's face, but in a swift motion he caught her wrists and pinned them to the divan. Biting her cheek with perfect ivory teeth, Hermione cried out, trying in vain to kick her legs and dislodge him. Laving the teeth marks that marred her flesh, Blaise licked at her lips and hummed his contentment. Nuzzling her neck, Blaise lifted himself slightly off Hermione, still holding her arms fast and gazing down at her with a deceptively warm smile.

His eyes were beaming with what one might consider fondness, the silver beaded tips of his locks brushing his perfectly smooth jaw. Hermione could only stare up at him in a fear and awe. He was like a dark god leaning over her, exquisite and terrible.

"Do not think ill of me, Hermione..."

His voice surrounded her, licking her skin with fire and setting her aflame.

"I only wanted to taste the woman who has so ensnared Draco Malfoy. And perhaps I would ask your permission to do so, but now is not the time."

Hermione was panting, wondering how in the world Blaise Zabini had ever been some innocuous character in her mind when he was something so much more. He was as much of an enigma as Draco.

"You are a mere child...and children should be in bed at this hour. However, while you lay in your bed, wanting craving something that will elude you, since Draco is, let us say, out of commission...I will let you watch me..."

He released her and stood, backing slowly away from the divan as if to avoid any attack pointed in his direction, but Hermione only sat up slowly and stared at her host.

"What do you mean?" she whispered breathlessly.

He smiled, his ivory teeth gleaming in the firelight. "Come with me," he said stretching out a hand.

Hermione did not remember rising to her feet or taking Blaise's hand, but she soon found herself sitting at the foot of her bed, staring at the wall next to the wardrobe where Blaise was pulling back a tapestry to reveal a full length mirror in an ornate mahogany frame bolted to the stone wall.

"What is it they said in that Muggle fairy tale? 'Mirror, mirror on the wall?'" Blaise breathed as he tucked the tapestry into a small hook to hold it back from the mirror.

Hermione blinked as she saw herself reflected in the mirror, most of her hair falling from its pins, her cheek reddened from where Blaise had bitten it, and the left strap of her dress sliding off her shoulder.

Draco was also reflected in the mirror, soundly asleep in only his trousers, the bottoms of his bare feet reflected clearly in the mirror as well as the colour of his long hair that fell in draped waves over the pillow under his head, and the glinting of muted candlelight reflecting off his silver arm. He had been cleaned and healed, but slept so deeply that he only made soft noises as he took in deep breaths.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall..." Blaise whispered, his fingertips barely touching the surface of the mirror. The silvery surface rippled as if made of liquid, and Hermione blinked as she saw into the next room, and Volkov's mistress, Yvette, undressing, her black dress slithering down her pale skin.

"This shall be your entertainment tonight, my dear lady..." Blaise hummed, moving across the fur rugs to stand before Hermione where she sat on the bed. Hermione did not move a muscle as Blaise leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on her lips and brushed a strand of caramel hair from her face. "Enjoy..."

With that Blaise left the room, and when Hermione heard the door shutting with a dull thud, she jumped to her feet. Moving through the sitting room, Hermione snatched up her wand from the floor where she had dropped it, vowing never to leave her wand lying about so carelessly again. Casting several locking charms on the door, Hermione shoved her wand into the mass of hair at the back of her head and stalked through the sitting room to the bedroom. With all intentions of scrubbing her skin until she bled, the image in the enchanted mirror forced Hermione to freeze mid-step and groan as she felt her belly coil and her pussy twitch, wetting her inner thighs anew with moisture...

Hermione felt her knees give way, and she fell to kneel on the soft fur rug before the mirror, letting the night finally get her to give up all sense of decency and become a voyeur...
- 17
- 18
- 19
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

Out of the Silent Planet