Out of Necessity

by Laurielove

Voldemort holds Hermione Granger prisoner in Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy feels like a prisoner in his own home. The Dark Lord seeks distractions. When Malfoy and Granger are caught up in his dangerous game, they have no choice but to play along. Can they ignore their mutual hatred and do what must be done? How far will they go and what will they discover? HG/LM Mature readers.

A little treat borne from my twisted and depraved (but ultimately romantic) mind. This is a one-shot. It is not my intention to continue it, mainly because I have loads of other stories to continue, but ... never say never. I had so much fun writing this.

Dedicated to Vin on Twitter, who has reminded me not to neglect Le Isaacs.

Warnings: Voyeurism, (very mild) breath play, threat of violence, pretence of non-con (but actually entirely consensual sex), dub-con initially but not in the way you may think.

---

The Second Wizarding War has endured. Voldemort's grip over the magical world has only tightened. Any who show weakness are killed, even the Dark Lord's loyal supporters, and enemies are hunted down mercilessly.

Voldemort remains at Malfoy Manor, a 'guest' of Lucius Malfoy, although to Malfoy himself it feels quite different – he is a prisoner in his own home.

The Dark Lord has recently enjoyed some success – he has captured one of the Golden Trio, none other than Hermione Granger herself, and is holding her captive in the dungeon of the Manor. In addition, he holds Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

Lucius Malfoy tries to keep invisible. He avoids the Dark Lord if possible, but it is never easy when both are living under the same roof. And the Dark Lord will soon enough be ready to play more games.

-xoOox-

Lucius Malfoy sat in his drawing room, although he could barely recognise it as such now. Much of his artwork had been removed and destroyed, his furnishings neglected. He had not the fight in him to resist it.

The Dark Lord was there, as he often was. He rarely sat, but would come and stand at the window in silence for minutes. If Lucius tried to leave, he would be prevented. It was rare they spoke, but on occasion Voldemort would seek diversions, usually at Malfoy's expense.

On this occasion, Lucius sensed his intent. It started quickly enough.

'Lucius.'

'Yes, My Lord?'

'How are the prisoners?'

'They are secure, My Lord.'

'Do you visit them?'

'No.'

'Why not? Are they not of interest to you?'

Malfoy swallowed back his rising anxiety. 'I see no reason to do so, My Lord.'

'I can understand why the other two hold little allure, but the Granger girl … what of her?'

'What of her, My Lord?'

'She is a curiosity, isn't she?'

'I don't know … perhaps.'

'And beautiful, they say … for a mudblood.'

'I don't know, My Lord.'

'You should look, Lucius, and then you would learn.'

Voldemort called suddenly to Yaxley who was sitting almost unnoticed in a dark corner. 'Fetch the Granger girl up here.'

He said no more but turned to stare across at Malfoy.

'Do you … do you wish me to leave, My Lord?'

'No, I wish you to stay.'

Lucius bit at his lip. 'Very well.'

Silence fell again until the door opened and, struggling against the tight hold Yaxley had on her, her arms tied behind her, Hermione Granger was brought in and pushed to the floor in front of Voldemort.

He tutted. 'Yaxley, you should be more careful with our prisoners. Miss Granger is not a sack of chaff, after all.' He bent down and brought a hand under her elbow. She was so surprised that she didn't even shake him off, but stood quite straight and glared at him. Lucius glanced at her. She held herself remarkably poised, he would grant her that.

'You two know each other, I believe.' Voldemort motioned between the two of them as if he were conducting a business meeting. Neither spoke.

'How are you finding Malfoy Manor hospitality, Miss Granger?' the Dark Lord continued.

She said nothing.

'What? Not good?' He turned to Malfoy with a mock look of shame. 'Oh dear, Lucius, it seems your reputation as a host may be slipping.'

He stepped in and began circling Granger. 'It is a magnificent house, don't you think? But then, I don't suppose you've had much chance to explore it. Perhaps we should put that right.' He turned suddenly. 'Follow me, both of you.'

Voldemort set off, but when neither followed, either from stubbornness or bewilderment, he turned back slowly and pointed his wand at them both. 'I said, follow me.'

This time when he walked, they followed.

He led them up the stairs and along to the east wing where the guest bedrooms were. It caused Malfoy physical pain to see the ease with which the Dark Lord prevailed within his home. They came to a room on the end. Malfoy knew it to be one of the most unassuming bedrooms in the house, sparsely furnished, with a simple double bed and little else.

'In, both of you.'

They had no choice but to do as commanded.

Voldemort followed them in and stood, a strange half-smile cracking his face.

'There. Another part of Lucius' house, Miss Granger. I hope you approve.' He waved a hand and Granger's bonds fell from her. She circled her hands in relief but tried not to show it.

Silence. Lucius felt rage churning through him but was powerless to act. He glanced at Granger. She stared stoically ahead. She had a fine profile, he noted.

'What do you think of Lucius, Miss Granger?' When Voldemort predictably received no answer he continued. 'Some say he is a very handsome man, although he has let things slip recently, I'm sure you agree. But he is most desired, I am told. At least he used to be before his little set back at the Ministry. But, still, these things happen. Or perhaps you prefer his son. Draco is doing so well. You would be a good match. Don't you think, Lucius? The beautiful Miss Granger and your son … but no, I forget myself … because you are a filthy little mudblood, aren't you? And Draco has a bright future ahead of him … probably.'

He sighed and glanced around. 'Do you know, Lucius? I am growing tired of living here. There really is little to entertain me. Nothing ever seems to happen. I have to make my own fun, which is exactly what I intend to do.' He came closer to them. 'Look at each other. Go on. Turn in and look at each other.'

They did so, slowly. Malfoy's grey eyes met her deep brown ones. For a moment, they were united against the evil filth beside them.

'What do you see? Pureblood and mudblood? Or two humans with all the desires and frailties and fears that humans have?' He approached Hermione and took hold of a strand of her hair, bringing it to his mouth and running his lips over it. She closed her eyes, every fibre in her being loathing him.

'She is beautiful, Malfoy, even I can see that. I almost desire her myself, despite her blood. I almost … want her. Do you?'

Malfoy dropped his head.

'Answer me!' Voldemort yelled so hard he nearly flinched.

'No, My Lord.'

'No? No? Why not? Tell me why not.'

'She is … the same age as my son, My Lord, and she is my enemy.'

'Those are not reasons not to want her, you fool! Why else do you not want her?'

He gave the answer he thought was expected. 'Because … because she is a mudblood.'

'Exactly! That is the only reason.' Voldemort tutted indignantly. 'Oh, Lucius, you disappoint me at every turn. It is high time I put you to the test.'

Malfoy quaked. His mouth run dry and he struggled to stand still. 'My … My Lord?'

'I am bored. I intend to play a game. In addition, it will be an opportunity for you to prove your loyalty.'

'My Lord … I don't understand.'

Voldemort turned to him and sneered, mocking his ignorance. '"I don't understand." Lucius, you are a dim-witted fool. Is it not obvious? Why else would I have brought you both up here?'

He stepped into him and spoke with low but clear deliberation. 'I want you to have this girl, take her, have intercourse with her. Here, now.'

'Wh … My Lord … what?'

The sneer deepened and Malfoy closed his eyes against Voldemort's putrid breath as he leant into him. 'I want you … to fuck her. Now.'

'My Lord … I ... surely not.' He kept his eyes tight closed, half trying to blot out what was being asked of him, half to ensure he didn't see Granger's reaction.

'She is attractive. Of course she is. Anyone can see that. She is beautiful and intelligent and brave. The only problem is that she is a mudblood … and therein lies the test. I know full well that you will hate the notion of sinking your cock into her … but you will do so nonetheless.'

'My Lord, I … cannot.'

'But you will.'

'My Lord, please.' He glanced at Granger at last. She had her eyes tight shut and was inhaling desperately to steady herself.

'Oh … he pleads. That is never pretty, Lucius. Don't.' The cracked oil of his voice slipped round Lucius like a toxin.

The Dark Lord spun suddenly to Granger. 'Miss Granger … I shall ask you … would you like to bed Mr Malfoy?'

'No,' came the clear response.

Voldemort let out a thin laugh. 'Predictable. Why ever not? He is a fine figure of a man, the envy of many, I am told. And wealthy too, surely that appeals.' Here, she shot him a poisonous glare which Malfoy almost admired. 'No?'

'No,' she repeated.

'Ah, I see … principles. I forgot, they are your guiding light. How much more rewarding this will be therefore. You see, here is my proposition, and where the game element comes into it. I call it a proposition, but you will soon see there is little choice in the matter …' He began pacing around them, taking his time before announcing his intention. 'Miss Granger, we have in the dungeons some friends of yours, do we not?'

She looked hard at him, her eyes wide, but she said nothing.

'We do,' continued Voldemort. 'Mr Longbottom and Miss Lovegood. You care for them, I know. This blind devotion to friendship will be your downfall. But in the meantime … you presumably wish to maintain their well-being.'

Her neat little brows were creased and her nostrils flared as she listened to him. But her lips remained tightly clamped shut.

Voldemort stopped and looked straight at her. 'I want you to fuck Lucius. If you don't, they will die. It is simple.'

She started to shake her head. 'No, no … I can't.'

He pouted. 'Then they will die, very soon. The choice is yours.'

He turned his attention to Lucius. 'And you, Malfoy, what can I use to tempt you? I would have thought this beautiful creature standing before you would be enough, but then, she is, after all, a mudblood. You would think that I would abhor the idea of a pureblood copulating with a mudblood, wouldn't you? And indeed, I do. I would not countenance it for most of my loyal friends. But, you, Lucius … you …' He let his face turn up into a putrid sneer. 'You have sunk so low. So very, very low, that … I no longer consider you a pureblood. I barely consider you human, in fact, and, therefore … I want to see it. I want to see you fuck a mudblood. I want to see you lower yourself to the basest level our noble race can sink to, to the very bottom of the heap … where you deserve to lie.'

Malfoy could not raise his head to him. If the Dark Lord had stabbed him with an actual knife and twisted it would not have hurt as much.

'But how to convince you to do it?' Voldemort began pacing around him again. 'Ah! … I have it, Lucius, of course … Your son.'

Lucius darted his head to him, his heart juddering, fear immediately drawing sweat to his brow.

'I admire Draco greatly … but he is not indispensable. I have others, more worthy probably. He is a whining little thing sometimes, it annoys me. Therefore, here is the thing – if you do not fuck this girl … I will kill your son.'

'Pl … please, My Lord, no, no … he is worthy of you … he will serve you well. Anything but Draco, please, please.' He felt his knees giving way, as if he would sink to them, grab onto the Dark Lord's robes and plead for anything.

Voldemort stepped away. 'I have decided. And do not think I shall simply leave you to it. I shall watch. As I said, I have to make my own fun around here.'

With that he waved a hand and the far wall became a large window.

'You have an hour. Your pureblood seed will be inside that mudblood by then or they die, all of them.'

And at that he waved his wand again and the glass disappeared. Voldemort flew through the gap and sat in a chair on the other side facing them, then, with a final wave of his wand, the glass formed again. It was dark behind, but they could just make him out, sitting quite still, waiting.

Malfoy took a staggering breath in, and Hermione released one, almost a sob. For a time, neither spoke, but already they were aware of time ticking away.

'He will do as he says.' Lucius finally spoke.

'I know,' she replied. Silence. 'I don't know what to do. For once, I don't know what to do.'

'My son will die. Do not doubt that he will follow through with that.'

She glared at him. 'And my friends! You think I want that?'

'Time is passing.'

She shut her eyes and threw her head up. 'Don't say that!'

'You think we can disobey him?'

'I don't know what to think! I am … empty of reason.'

'Not like you, I imagine.'

She darted him another glare, her dark eyes almost alight. He crossed to the door and turned the handle. It was predictably locked.

Malfoy released a sigh. 'I do not see that we have any choice.'

She turned to him, her arms folded, her eyes fierce. 'I didn't think you could bear it with a … muggle-born.'

He said nothing at first, but his breathing was rapid and tight. He averted his gaze. 'I couldn't bear it.'

She sneered and threw an arm out in despair towards the bed. 'Well then … how on earth can we be expected to –'

'But things have changed and … I shall if I must,' he interrupted.

Her face shifted into one of surprise. 'You would rape me?'

He stared at her and the horror in her eyes was reflected deep inside himself, where something twisted in despair. He shook his head.

'No. I may be many things, but I am not that. We are in this together, Miss Granger. We both need it. We both need to be agreed.'

'But if I didn't agree … you wouldn't force yourself on me?'

Slowly, surprising himself, he shook his head.

For a time she looked almost shocked, and the ferocious anger in her eyes dulled a little.

'But … they will die … all of them,' she said, tears forming.

Time was ticking away. She glanced over at the window. 'He's watching.'

'Yes.'

She turned away and sobbed. 'I can't, I can't do it … not with him watching, not with him there.'

He allowed her her despair. He spoke, more gently now, 'Would you be able to do it without him watching?'

'I … I don't know!' She glanced over her shoulder at him. 'Perhaps.'

But it was futile. 'He won't allow that.'

'No … it's part of his sadistic depravity. Watching us suffer, watching us go through hell.'

There was more silence. A clock ticked.

'We have to do this,' he stated. There was no option.

'I know.' She was crying, as much as she tried not to; she couldn't help herself.

He didn't move, neither did she, but eventually her sobs lessened and she took deep steadying breaths. Slowly, she turned towards him and, when their eyes met, she nodded.

'Alright.'

For a moment again, he stood quite still, but then, coming to his senses, Malfoy muttered a wandless spell and the lights dimmed. They could barely see the window now, and the muffling darkness made the starkness of what had to be done somehow easier.

They stood about a foot apart, but neither moved. He had never seen her like this. She was easy on the eye, he could not deny that.

'I don't know … I don't know how to start it,' she muttered quickly.

In the dim light, Hermione thought she almost saw a look of empathy in Malfoy's eyes.

'Neither do I.' She half wished he would make the first move, but it was a strange comfort that he didn't; that he didn't presume.

'I suppose we should …' she tried.

He raised an eyebrow half quizzically.

'We should … we could … touch.' Tentatively, awkwardly, as if she were thirteen again and at her first school dance, she reached up a hand and placed it on his chest. He glanced down. It made her writhe with embarrassment.

'I …! God, I don't know!' She turned away, flummoxed.

But a hand suddenly caught her arm, not harshly but confident enough, and moved her gently back towards him. 'No … it's alright.'

'We must do this,' she reiterated firmly, as much to herself as him.

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry,' she murmured. She meant it, he knew. It almost touched him.

'Why sorry?'

'Neither of us want it.'

'But it's not your decision nor your fault – why should you apologise for something which is not your fault?'

'I don't know. I'm like that.'

It was almost endearing. She glanced up at him, her hand still on his chest.

'We should get it over and done with,' she said.

'Yes.'

'But …'

'What?'

'Can you … will you be able to … you know?'

He quirked an eyebrow. 'Are you asking me if I can get it up, Miss Granger?'

She shut her eyes tight against it. 'Oh don't! For God's sake, don't put it like that!'

'But that's what you mean.'

'Well … I'm muggle-born – you hate me! You're not attracted to me! You said so yourself!'

'Just as you're not attracted to me?'

She looked at him again and met the grey of his eyes. 'Exactly. I'm not. At all.'

But as they stared into each other, as she noted the fine lines of his cheekbones and he saw the plump ripeness of her lips, it confused them.

He spoke softly, it seemed to help. 'Then we shall have to pretend.'

'Pretend to do it? He'll know if we don't. He'll probably look for … evidence.' She frowned in dismay.

'Pretend to be attracted to each other.'

She glanced up at him. 'Can we do that?'

'I don't know … shall we try?'

She nodded, just once. Slowly, cautiously, Hermione replaced her hand on him and slipped it inside his jacket. Her finger tips pressed the slightest amount against his chest. He was warm – was she surprised? She pressed harder. Warm and firm. His chest rose and fell rapidly, the muscles tight under her palm.

'I'm so tense,' she murmured.

'Try to relax.'

'How am I supposed to do that?'

'How would you normally do it?'

She went quiet. He suspected she was blushing, but it was too dim to make out. 'Kiss. I like kisses, slow ones, ones which start tenderly.' She glanced up. 'Perhaps you could … perhaps we should kiss?'

Without speaking, he brought up a hand and cupped her face.

'Does that help?' he asked.

'What?'

'With … what must happen?'

'Yes.'

Then he lowered his head and brought it closer to hers. She darted her eyes between his own and his mouth, then just before their lips met she dampened them instinctively.

Malfoy pressed his mouth to hers. She'd thought she would jolt back in horror but she didn't. His lips were soft and warm but assured. He didn't insist. In fact, he did everything she could have hoped. He waited, simply holding his mouth to hers, but not passively, enough for her to know that he would go further when she was ready. And so she moved her mouth under his and he responded.

It was such a surprise, such a bizarre situation to find herself in that she almost wanted to laugh. It wasn't the horrific hell she'd feared. He smelt good and his breath was soft and sweet. She moved under him again and again he met it. Instinctively, almost unbidden, Hermione brought up a hand and gently held his head. His hair was smooth and she was curious so she threaded her fingers through it to feel the warmth of his scalp on her fingertips.

She opened her mouth a little – only what she would do with any other lover – and he did the same. He inhaled deeply to continue, reaching up and holding her head with both hands now, angling it a little to carry on.

And then the strangest thing happened. Her belly twisted. A coil of desire curled unbidden and unexpected within her. She pulled back at this betrayal of her body, and turned her head away from him.

'What?' he murmured and she thought his voice sounded darker, not intimidating but desirous.

'I … it's just …'

'We shouldn't stop. If we stop we may not be able to carry on. And if we don't carry on … he will kill them.'

She squeezed her eyes tight shut. 'I know.'

She felt something tickle her ear and glanced over. Gently, slowly, he had curled her hair around her ear. She looked at him in surprise but then turned slowly back.

'Kiss me again,' she murmured.

He leaned in and soon enough they were kissing. It happened again, instantly, that curling, twisting inside, and this time she humoured it, deepening the kiss, opening her mouth to him.

They kissed for some time and she gave up pretending that her body wasn't ready for more.

At length they broke away, drawing in deep breaths.

'We need to carry on,' he said.

'Yes.' Their breaths were ragged. She wanted to reach in for another kiss. He kissed so well … she could almost forget … she could almost … enjoy.

'You can touch me … if you want … you'll have to,' she whispered, trying not to sound as if she wanted it, trying to tell herself she didn't.

She herself reached up and slowly undid the buttons on her blouse, almost ashamed but not quite able to hide her own curiosity. He let her, simply watching. Then when the shirt had fluttered open, he lifted his hand and slowly slipped it inside. Malfoy's fingers found her breast and she sucked in sharply as he pushed inside her bra and cupped the soft, heavy flesh. His eyes were down, focused on what he was doing but also avoiding looking at her. She almost wished he would look. He had behaved impeccably; she wanted him to know.

And then his thumb grazed a nipple and she loved it but tried not to. She gasped in softly. He did it again and it was even better. Oh fuck, it was even better.

He carried on, cupping her breast, running his thumb back and forth over the hardening little nub. At last he raised his eyes to hers.

'Are you alright?' he asked and she was surprised at the genuine concern in his voice. It coincided with a spark of pure pleasure darting through to almost upend her.

She nodded and leaned in, offering herself for another kiss. He met it.

She opened wide for him. All the while his hand rubbed and massaged and brushed and stroked her breast and nipple so perfectly she never wanted it to end. She gave him her tongue, and gently but certainly he met it with his and their kiss matched the beauty of his touch.

'Oh, that's …!' She broke off and sighed it out. She wanted to say it was good, but it couldn't be, it mustn't be.

Malfoy paused but kept his hand on her breast and occasionally stroked across the nipple, making her push against him for more without even realising it.

She made the mistake of glancing across at the window. She couldn't see through completely but there was still a dark figure on the other side.

It sent a shiver of desolation through her, but the warmth of the man holding her provided a strange comfort.

'He's still there,' she whispered.

'Of course he is. He wants more.'

She met Malfoy's eyes. His hand was still cupping her breast, gently, she thought, tenderly.

'We'll have to carry on.' She was almost kissing him again. Their breath was fast and mingled.

'Yes.'

She reached up to his shoulder, hovering a murmur from his mouth. 'Should we take our clothes off?'

'It will be convincing.'

'Uh huh.'

Reality seemed to set in and she at last drew off him, blushing a little at what had happened so far. He cleared his throat but applied himself to removing his jacket. She glanced over. As he flexed his arms she noted the swell of muscle underneath. Hermione set about taking off her blouse properly and stepping out of her jeans. She saw him look over as her legs were revealed. Her blush deepened.

Her bra strap had worked its way from her shoulder and now she wasn't sure whether to take it off completely or pull it back up.

As she hesitated he gave a sigh and moved back to her. 'This is no good. He won't be convinced. I'm worried he won't accept a sham.'

'But he also wants to see us suffer … to see how painful it is.'

'True.'

He turned away again but continued to undress. Soon she was in her underwear and he in only his trousers. He looked back and for the first time she detected the note of embarrassment in his own voice. 'I … don't wear underwear.'

'And I can't bring myself to take mine off. I'm sorry … it's too much.'

He approached and spoked softly. 'We must. It's alright. I've already touched you … here.' With that, he slipped his hand into her bra again and began another slow caress of her breast.

'That's …' She gasped in again.

'What? Tell me.'

'I can't.'

'Can't what?'

'Tell you.'

'Why not?'

His thumb rubbed back and forth across her nipple until it was tight and hard and desperate for more.

'Please … please …' she moaned.

'I'm going to take your bra off.'

She nodded, biting her lip. 'Yes.'

She felt his hands slide round to her back. With ease, he unhooked her bra and she felt it loosed from her body. Malfoy released a breath, softly but clearly, and both his hands now came to her breasts. He quickly made the other nipple as hard as its twin.

'Ohh,' she whined.

'Miss Granger …' he said, but no more, dark and low.

'What?'

'You are …' He swallowed hard but couldn't finish the sentence. Instead he resorted to fact. 'I'm going to suck them.'

'Uh huh.' He'd hardly voiced it as a question but she gave her approval anyway. And he dropped his head and took a nipple into his mouth.

'Ohh!' Her head fell back as beautiful sensation dashed through her. Instinctively, he held her breast in his hands so that it pushed the nipple out to a peak; instinctively, she held his head to him. He sucked hard and she sucked in through her teeth. He licked and she moaned. He grazed over it with his teeth and she gasped. 'Oh God, Malfoy, I …!' She stopped herself before she told the truth: that she liked it, that she loved the way he did that.

At length he dragged himself away from her tits to move up to her head again. He kissed her. The tenderness was now gone and he kissed her with a passion which made her dizzy. Hermione pressed herself against him and felt him hard and urgent against her. She couldn't help but grind herself against it and made a moan rumble through him as she did so.

'Want to touch you,' he broke off to murmur in her ear.

Want. The first time either of them had voiced it. She wanted it too, but she should resist, surely? She should fight him. Her hands rose to his shoulders in an effort to push him back but at that moment his fingers slipped inside the band of her underwear and instead she curled herself round his neck.

He pushed down with almost idle deliberation until a fingertip touched her clit.

Her eyes flew open. 'Oh God!' she exclaimed.

He continued down, just his middle finger, down through her, letting the underside of the digit graze over her clit as it went, and curling around and through her.

'Gods, you're wet.'

It made her blush. She shouldn't be, should she? 'I can't help it … you're …'

'What?'

She voiced the truth: 'You're too good.'

'I thought we were supposed to hate this.' His finger was still stroking back and forth through her, building pleasure in her fast.

'Like that, like that,' she murmured, rocking along him as he did it.

'Can I feel inside you?' he asked. 'I want to put a finger inside you.'

She frowned against it, more a nod to her pride than anything. But, barely realising, she was pushing down on her underwear and wriggling completely free of it. 'Yes. I want that. I want you to.'

So, giving a little at the knees to concentrate, Lucius Malfoy pushed his middle finger deep up inside Hermione Granger, high, as deep as he could. She breathed out as she felt it inside her, felt him inside her, contained.

'Fuck, you're tight, even on my finger.'

She was clinging to his shoulders. 'What are we doing? What's happening?' she murmured as he continued to work it inside her.

'We're doing as we have to do, Miss Granger, that's all.'

'Yes, that's all, that's all. Keep saying that.'

'That's all, Miss Granger. Necessity.'

'Necessity,' she repeated as he attended to her clit again. Pleasure had been brewing, simmering and bubbling, and daring to taunt her. So she said it. 'I'm going to come. Oh God, no, I'm going to come and I can't, I can't.'

'Why not?' Still he plied and worked her, still his fingers stroked and rubbed so gloriously she was teetering on the knife edge between sanity and ecstasy.

'Because … I'm only doing this for … I didn't want to … I didn't want it.'

'Do you want it now?'

'Yes … I want it.'

'Then come.'

She did.

Hermione came so hard she had to dig her hand into his shoulder to steady herself. She juddered against him as an orgasm tore through her so fiercely she gaped, eyes wide and aghast.

'Ohh … fuck!' she exclaimed as aftershocks of pleasure caught her time and again.

'Are you alright?' he asked at length.

'Kiss me, please, please, kiss me.' She pulled him in and he kissed her open and deep, holding her hard to him. 'Oh God, I can't believe it, that was … that was ... We've got to carry on. We've got to have sex now. Will you do that?'

And her hands were now tearing at his belt and buttons. Malfoy pushed down on his trousers and stepped out of them urgently.

She stared. He was impressively large and gloriously hard. 'This is crazy. What's happening to me?' she asked. He groaned as she pressed her naked body against his cock and he pushed back against her.

'Necessity, remember.'

'Can you do it?

'What?'

'Fuck me … Fuck a mudblood?'

His response came as he took her head in his hands and bent to kiss her again, slow and deep. She felt herself being guided back until he laid her down across the bed. They had both forgotten about the figure still watching from beyond the glass.

He moved between her legs and hooked one over his arm, spreading her wide for him. 'You know why I'm doing this, don't you?' he asked, holding his cock ready.

She looked down at it, large and hard, the drop of moisture on the tip gleaming at her. She nodded. 'We have to.'

'That's all.'

'That's all.'

She resisted gripping hold of him and instead drew her hands up above her on the bed. And he pressed in, slowly at first, as if giving her time to adjust to his girth. She was grateful for it because it took some adjustment; he stretched her. She held her breath as he pushed deeper in and did the strangest thing, something she rarely did with any lover: she looked straight into his eyes. And he stared straight back and pushed in deeper and deeper until he was embedded inside her, right to the hilt.

She released her breath and blinked away the shock of her impalement on him. 'Ohh …'

Malfoy swallowed hard. 'Fuck …'

'Move.' It was barely audible.

He stared down as he braced himself across her. 'What?'

She looked up, a blush spreading quickly as she dared voice it again. 'Move in me.'

Slowly, he pulled back, withdrawing gradually before pushing in again, this time faster. She moaned as she took him again.

He angled her leg so that he could push as deep as possible and she arched her back off the bed with a whine. He paused as if a sudden thought had occurred to him.

'Miss Granger, you're not supposed to be enjoying it.'

She reached up and grabbed onto his shoulders. 'I can't.'

'What? Enjoy?'

'I can't not enjoy it. It's too good, it's too right. There, just there, yes, yes.' She bucked on him as he continued to drive into her, time and again, stroking the thick length of his cock in and out of her hopelessly welcoming pussy.

But then he stopped. 'We can't do it like this.'

'What?'

'You can't appear to enjoy it. Not this. Not having me inside you. Don't let him know.'

Her brows creased. 'What?'

'Don't let him know you like it inside you. Fight me.'

'I don't want to.'

'But you hate me.'

'I … yes.'

'Use it then.'

'But it feels too good.'

'Fight me, mudblood. You have to.'

The word enraged her; he'd done it deliberately, so, summoning her strength, she tried to push him off her. Malfoy went with it, letting himself be flung back. Hermione took the opportunity and placed her feet on his legs and shoved hard so that he staggered backwards.

'No … I can't do this. No more. Stop it now!' she yelled for the benefit of the man beyond the glass, although every fibre in her being wanted Malfoy back in her.

But she kept up the pretence by scrambling hastily from the bed and making for the door. Hermione pulled on the handle but it didn't open, as she knew it wouldn't. Malfoy was on her again and grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her and plunging his mouth onto hers brutally.

Immediately, she melted against him but as he kissed her he took her bottom lip in his teeth and bit. Again, she reacted. 'You bastard!' meaning it this time, but loving the shift in dynamic. They would pretend, and she would take from it. She writhed in his grip but he held her fast. She tried to kick, to stamp, but he was too strong and too close, holding her between himself and the wall. His cock pressed hard against her and all she wanted was to open for him and let him drive into her.

She succeeded in resisting Malfoy's kisses and he instead plunged his mouth to her neck, which he sucked on hard before grazing his teeth over it. She whined in pleasure but he warned against it.

'Don't enjoy it,' he breathed hot against her skin. 'Fight it.'

He loosened the grip on her wrists and she took the moment to push him off again, this time rushing across the room, but he caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him.

'Hate it,' he said again, just for her. 'Hate me.' At that moment, with her rage at being denied his cock, she did. She tried to push away but he held her back so hard she was lifted into the air. Hermione paddled with her feet and tried to hit back at him, unsure if she was doing so out of genuine fury or frustration at not having him inside her.

With undeniable strength she was carried back to the bed and practically tossed onto it. She did hate him; she hated that he could do this to her and still make her want him.

She tried to scramble up the bed but he caught her ankles and dragged her back towards him. She beat at him with her fists for show but he tossed her onto her front and pulled her up onto all fours. Holding onto her hips he climbed up onto the bed and knelt behind her.

'I'll fuck you now, mudblood,' he declared loudly.

She was about to open her mouth to beg for it but a hand was suddenly clamped over her lips. He brought his head to her ear and murmured, 'Don't. I've told you. Resist it.'

But she loved the resistance as much as giving herself to him. Hermione let out a silent scream against his palm and at that moment he plunged deep into her again.

He kept his hand clamped over her mouth while he pistoned hard and fast into her, pushing his cock through her pliant body so that her pussy clamoured for more.

When at last he took his hand from her mouth she screamed. To any listening – as indeed they were – it would have sounded like a scream of despair, but Hermione and Malfoy knew it to be anything but. It was a scream of fulfilment, of denial being rewarded.

Reaching under her again, he pulled her up flush against him, still fucking her, still driving his cock deep and high. Malfoy reached a hand up and curled it around her neck, not tight, but enough to hold her head as close to his as possible. And now he started whispering to her, low, dark secrets only she could hear.

'He wants you to hate it,' he murmured between thrusting grunts. 'He wants us both to fucking hate it.'

She simply whined. His cock was so perfect inside her.

'But you don't, do you?'

'No,' she murmured back. 'No, I don't hate it.'

'You like me fucking you, don't you?'

'I love you fucking me.'

'Good … because I love it too. Your cunt is the most perfect thing I've ever been inside. I want to live in it. If I could fuck you forever, I would.'

She groaned again and he tightened the hold on her neck a fraction. 'That's right. Let him think you hate it. Tell me to stop.'

'But I don't want you to stop,' she panted.

'Say it anyway.'

'Stop,' it was a mere whisper. Please, please don't listen.

Malfoy moved her round so that his back faced the window then reached down and found her clit. She groaned as rapture quickly spiked, threatening to send her over the edge.

'You're not going to come, are you?' he warned.

She groaned, 'I have to come. You do that so well.'

'You mustn't come.' Still his fingers danced on her clit.

'Then stop doing that because it feels so – fucking – good.'

He laughed against her ear. 'You just told me to stop and you meant it. He can't see me fingering you, so scream it out for him.' He rubbed her clit, circling it harder and harder while his cock continued pumping her cunt perfectly.

She would come, and then what? He must stop touching her; he must stop fucking her so well. 'Stop!' she yelled. 'Oh stop, please stop!'

But he didn't. She was primed, full of needles of sexual energy which were poised to dart through her with harsh beauty. 'I can't,' she muttered. 'I can't not come. It's too good, you're too fucking good.'

'Silently then, if you have to, and Merlin knows I fucking want you to. Come for me silently … Hermione.'

'Hand over my mouth. Hurry,' she pleaded.

He clamped his palm tight over her mouth and nose, inadvertently and briefly cutting off her air as he did so. She came immediately and she came spectacularly. Hermione's orgasm ripped through her, but Malfoy held her tight to stop her from shaking, gagged her sounds to stop her from screaming. She came completely and utterly within herself and on him. And Voldemort would never know.

But Malfoy's climax needed to be seen. The Dark Lord wanted to see his failed Death Eater coming apart in a mudblood.

Malfoy released her suddenly and she fell forwards, gasping in air. Instantly he took hold of her hips and started driving in and out of her. Her orgasm still twitched through her but she held in her moans as he now went at her hard.

Malfoy grunted with each thrust forward and she took the full length of his cock each and every time.

'Coming … coming,' he groaned loud for the Dark Lord to hear, and his face contorted as his seed burst hot and high into her. He had never known an orgasm to consume him so entirely.

When the last of it had left him, Lucius fell forward and lay on top of her, but she didn't mind.

At first neither could move. 'I'm crushing you,' he observed at length and reluctantly withdrew. He came and lay beside her. She turned over and curled her legs up.

They lay beside each other and he turned his head to look at her. 'We seem to have managed it,' he muttered, trying not to appear as completely sated as he was.

'Something like that.' She wanted to smile, but at that moment the door opened and Voldemort swept in. It was Lucius who hurried off the bed, covering Hermione's nakedness quickly with the quilt. For himself, he stood tall before the Dark Lord, whose gaze flicked contemptuously to Malfoy's still hard but clearly expended cock.

'There it is then,' he sneered. 'For a time, I thought you were almost enjoying it, Miss Granger, but then reality seemed to kick in.'

She curled in on herself and felt the warm ooze of Lucius' come between her legs. Far from hating it, she revelled in her deceit of Voldemort.

'And you, Lucius. Your shame is complete. What a fall from your once elevated status, hm?'

With a look of loathing, the Dark Lord turned to leave.

'My Lord …' said Malfoy.

Voldemort hesitated. 'What?'

'They will be safe?'

Another sneer, but he gave his answer. 'Yes. You have relieved my boredom.' He looked back at Hermione scornfully. 'What a mudblood whore you are.' He crossed to the door. 'Take her back to the dungeons. I expect you upstairs in ten minutes, Lucius.'

With that he swept out and the door closed after him.

Lucius began reaching for his clothes and replacing them. 'Are you alright?' he asked, and he meant it.

He glanced over at her. She had sat up and curled her hair around her ear. She managed a watery smile. 'Yes. Are you?'

'Yes. I have to take you back now … I'm sorry.'

'I know.'

He looked at her, almost surprised.

'We did what had to be done,' she said.

'Yes.'

'But …'

'What?'

'Thank you.' She sounded so sincere it almost hurt.

'Please don't thank me.'

'You know what I mean. It was …' Hermione dropped her head and her cheeks were warm with a dusky blush.

'Yes … it was. But … you must get dressed now.'

At last she climbed from the bed and started to dress. Silently, they got ready to leave. Silently, he tied her hands behind her again and led her towards the dungeon. Silently, he opened her cell. She walked in and he undid her bonds. She turned and, at last, he met her eyes.

'Do you get lonely here?' he asked.

She nodded.

'So do I,' he said.

Hermione moved into the room and sat on the low bunk provided for her, but she held his eyes boldly. 'You know I am here, if you ...'

There was a brief silence in which neither moved, but then she added, 'He's expecting you. You should go back now.'

Malfoy nodded and moved to the doorway but hesitated once there.

'Go. Close the door … for now,' she said.

He looked back. 'For now.'

Malfoy stepped out and shut the door, locking her in again. But for the only time since she had first heard that juddering noise of the bolt being slid across, she felt a sort of contentment.

For now.

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Oh, Lucius, you loved it. And so did she.

Love your reviews, you lovely lot. Love from Laurielove. xxx