Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

The Wedding Night

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PART

1 of 2 chapters: Ravishing Red

There she was.

She wasn't supposed to be, I knew. This was my party, my last chance to see some naked women before I settled into stupid commitment. I didn't want this marriage of course, you must understand. The girl I was about to marry was an obnoxious former Slytherin that although was pretty and exotic, she didn't have enough brains to fill her head. Her infamous name, which I am sure all of you know was Pansy Parkinson, and she was a dyed-blonde that could satisfy any guy with her cheap lips and her sluttish attire of usual clothing. She wasn't intelligent or funny, had no such personality, but attempted to become the biggest slut in Hogwarts and would've succeeded if one certain Slytherin would've given himself to her: that was me, of course. I wouldn't dare touch her. One dance at the formal Yule Ball decided that. She might've grown up to be pretty and sexy, but she was still vapor in my eyes.

So why am I marrying her, you're probably thinking? What kind of sick pleasure would I get from having a dim-witted wife that has to do millions just to make me come? Well one, word: Lucius Malfoy. The son of a bitch. As soon as I realized that having a skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth imprinted forever in my arm and serving a man that's half-dead and probably queer, I declined my father's 'invitation' to join him in his plagues of death and killing innocent muggleborns for fun. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, but I knew the guilt would wash over me soon enough. And this is his torture. He told me either I marry Parkinson or he cuts off my inheritance and I could become homeless, if I wish. Of course, after many arguing, suicide warnings, and some hardcore fighting, I was mentally and physically abused to marry the whore. I was twenty-one, and should've been making my own money, but since I knew my father was loaded, I guess I got carried away with my weekly sex with girls that I didn't even know last names of and gambling and getting drunk and throwing up on someone's balcony was losing it's control. So I was pushed. Into marrying Pansy.

But that isn't the SHE I am talking about.

What I was talking about before I so rudely interrupted with the horrid facts was that this lovely woman was sipping her wine vigorously and throwing looks at me.

I swaggered over to her, of course. I was hammered, completely. And I knew she was about to get smashed too. She was different. With most women, I could just kiss them and sleep with them for no damn reason and they'd accept. But she, smiled insecurely when I came, and sipped a bit more faster on her drink, which I noted approvingly, had a cherry on it.

"Ah, now tell me, how is such a fine woman like you wandering around my party?" I asked, grazing her cheekbone with my fingers. She had curly, red hair that had been tightened into a soft ponytail, and her eyes were brown, her face thin, her body skinny, with a small bosom, long legs, and pale arms. She was wearing a glowering red gown that clashed with her hair, and lip gloss which smelled strongly of raspberry.

"Well, I certainly didn't come for the strippers," she said, raising a thin eyebrow at the dancers that were serving my friends and other customers.

I didn't smile. I chuckled slyly instead. I lifted her chin with the tip of my finger so her pools of brown could skin into my grayish blue.

"Funny, funny girl," I said, my voice turning deep and husky now. The strong affect of wine was getting to me.

"Yes, it's a gift."

"Tell me what the hell your doing here, then," I finally snapped. I wouldn't lose my control like that, but this girl was getting to me. Deep.

"Now, now, that's no way to speak to a lady," she said, her eyebrow raising again and she waved my fingers away.

"I am here because my husband invited me. I had no idea it was a bachelor party, so I am regretting it right now."

"Husband?" I backed off instantly.

"More like an engaged boyfriend," she said, her voice fading off.

"Are you a Slytherin?"

"Excuse me?" She refilled her drink full to the brim of the glass, and drank.

"In Hogwarts...you did attend there, did you not?"

"Yes, I suppose I did," she said, looking at me suspiciously. "Although it's no concern of yours, I was a Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor? But - all my friends here are Slytherins! How can one possibly be your boyfriend?" I barked.

She widened her eyes, and then I realized the truth. She had been lying. She dropped her glass on a table nearby and picked up the hems of her dress and proceeded to run.

Before she could fled, however, I dropped my wineglass on the floor and there started the chase, as she went outside. I cursed, but as I was truly hammered on worthless, cheap, wine, I followed her and finally caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me!" she said, squirming.

"Not until you tell me who you are and what you're doing here," I said, putting an arm around her waist. A faint smell of raspberry and perfume reached my nostrils. I was vaguely intoxicated with her smell, and nuzzled her neck.

She didn't say anything.

"My God, you know better than to smash a bachelor party, especially if the host is this good looking," I said arrogantly, my lips touching the soft wisps of her orange-red hair.

"And you know better than to flirt with me when you are getting married tomorrow," she replied, but did not get out of my reach. Instead, she did something unexpected. She turned around and pressed closer to me, and touched my strands of hair. God, she was driving me crazy as she lifted a leg to my hip and grinded her hips into mine.

"Are you aware that what you're doing is very, very bad..."

"And, tell me, Mr. Malfoy, why is it so bad?" She rubbed the back of my neck, sending tingles to my spine and leaned over so that the heat of my forehead was planted against hers.

"Because...we aren't supposed to be doing this," I said, "I am getting married, remember?"

"Hmmm, that is a dilemma..." she said thoughtfully, and smirked at me. I stared. Never had I heard a woman speak back to me with such a dazzling smile. I could tell right off that she had a friendly sense of humor, not to mention a tantilizating body. I noticed this because I felt her nipples harden and press against my chest. I knew she was doing this on purpose, because the closer she got she rubbed more painfully into my shirt. She reached around and unbuttoned my shirt, and I knew from the smell of her breath that she was drunk too, and as she playfully unbuttoned each one, she gave me a soft kiss on the neck, and for the last button she brushed her tongue along the line between my lips.

"Mmmm," I groaned.

"Come here," she said, throwing my shirt elsewhere and releasing the belt buckled of my pants.

"God," I murmured. Never had a girl made me want her so badly. The thought that we were doing this outside, where anyone could see us in public made me even more turned on.

"Are you sure it would be comfortable to do it on the ground?" I asked as she pulled my pants down and examined my boxers.

"Who says we're doing it on the ground?" she asked, and gave me that seductive smirk of hers, and tugged her hair out of the ponytail and leaving the small barrette on the floor. I stared. Her hair was beautiful, shoulder-length, and slightly curly, and the red glimmered in the moonlight. Her soft ringlets in the side framed her face lovingly, while the tendrils on her front looked like they were in a wild craze.

She took the straps from her dress and lowered them, still watching me.

"Go on," I said, biting my lip. God, this girl could be infuriating.

She took down the dress slowly, revealing her creamy complexion in her neck, and freckles over the top of her cleavage which was embraced by a white, strapless bra. The dress now hung from her hips, although I could see the hem of her matching panties underneath. I pulled her toward me and pressed myself against her and she moaned as I grinded my erection into her softness.

"I want it - but not here...come on," she said, and tugged at my hand. She led me toward the lake, and I gaped at her as she pulled herself into the water in the lake, drenching her legs.

"Come here..." she whispered, but barely audible for me to hear her. I wasn't crazy - but I was drunk and turned on, so what's a boy to do? I followed her, the cold water swishing against my legs, and she giggled, her grin lopsided and her hair crazed, and her personality suddenly tipsy. I felt like laughing. I was doing something crazy - something new, and fresh. This wasn't a whore - this wasn't a prostitute - a hooker, or someone easy. This was an intelligent red-haired young woman that wanted me as badly as I wanted her, but she was going to give me hard time about it, which was pretty amazing for someone drunk. I wanted to ask her a million questions of course, like how she knew my name, why was she in the party, and what was HER name? I wanted to ask her - but I was afraid - afraid that I might ruin the perfect moment where she hung her chin high and laughed, a beautiful, glorious laugh, and I joined in, laughing insanely with her as my boxers got wet and froze my insides and I grabbed her my the waist and pulled her on top of me, the water swishing over us.

She was beautiful - sophisticated. She was everything I wanted, her wet curls that hung to low onto her creamy breasts, her red gown that was now draping with water as it hung, warning to fall twistingly from her hips. She pressed against me, rubbing her body against mine's, and her soft moans filled and bubbled against the water, and I felt as if I was swimming - with someone tugging at my boxers, of course. I felt like I was going to come any second - but I restrained myself as she grinded into me, sideways, her eyes closed, her small smile yelling intoxication, and her soft moans and breaths ringing in my ears. I wanted her - so badly. She took off her red gown and laughed again, her lovely ringtone reaching into my eardrums heavenly as she tugged off my boxers slowly and massaged me steadily. I groaned and pulled her against me, the cold water now freezing against my bare backside. I pulled off her bra and her wonderful nipples grazed against mine, and I found myself taking off her last garment and letting her straddle me until I pushed myself into her and she dug her nails into my shoulders as she moaned, whispering my name - 'Draco , Draco ,'. All the questions about her identity and how she mine floated away from my mind as ecstasy reached me and I gave into her harder, and with one last breath, was when I passed out in the lake, with her on top of me, the cold water burning and sinking into our bare flesh.

All I remember before I took my last blink of consciousness was admiring her wet hair that hung over my chest.

After that, when I got up in the morning, I found myself bare naked, and she was gone. The girl was gone.

And I hadn't even asked her name.

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End Of Part One

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