Draco was lying in his bed, wide awake, starring up at the ceiling above him. His mind was trying to process the events of the first week of his school holidays, and it had kept him awake for most of the night already. He had read about the Azkaban mass breakout in the Daily Prophet back at Hogwarts and he had known then that things were about to change; but now they were hiding a group of highly dangerous Death Eaters and the Dark Lord went in and out of their manor every day. His parents, especially his mother, didn't seem too happy about it either, but it was him who was about to become a Death Eater, a follower of the Dark Lord, like almost all members of his family. He didn't even have a choice! It was expected of him and it wouldn't be long now before he'd get the Dark Mark, that ugly black tattoo he had seen on his father's left arm before. His heart pounded in his chest at the thought. Of course he wanted to prove himself, but he didn't feel ready yet. He was appalled at the idea of killing someone, of doing the dirty work for the Dark Lord, and he knew he could get into big trouble for having these kinds of thoughts. There would be no turning back once he joined the Death Eaters. He would be a soldier in a war he didn't want to fight.
Draco sighed and turned to the side, hoping that when he closed his eyes the anticipated sleep would finally come over him, giving him the rest he needed. His rest was, however, short-lived. He was just about to fall asleep when he heard a quiet sigh. For a moment, he thought he'd only imagined it, but then there was a hiss and another quiet sigh. He sat up in his bed, intently listening to figure out where the sounds came from, but once again there was silence and he relaxed against his pillows, only to be startled by a distinctly feminine moan coming through the wall from the room next to his, where his aunt had been residing since her prison breakout. His uncle Rodolphus wasn't staying in the same room; he had been captured in the Ministry of Magic, together with his father, but Bellatrix hadn't looked too unhappy about that. Bellatrix and Rodolphus didn't seem to be terribly close, despite being married for longer than even his parents.
"Ah!" A yelp reached Draco's ears and aroused his curiosity. What was going on in there? Did he even want to know?
His curiosity got the better of him. He got up from the bed, slowly, carefully walking towards the door which led to the floor. It was dark and he didn't want to knock anything over; after all, he didn't wish to be caught. He tiptoed along the floor, following the quiet noises until he stood in front of the entrance to his aunt's room, considering his options for a moment. Obviously, the door was closed and he couldn't just walk in there. There was one option though…
He kneeled down and peeked through the keyhole, through which light streamed. His eyes needed a moment before they got used to the bright light, but eventually they did and he was able to look into the room. The first thing he was able to spot was a table in a corner of the room, and suddenly another moan, this time a little louder than before, caught his attention. Draco shifted a bit to the side until he could make out the source of the noises that had kept him awake. His eyes widened and he froze in shock. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. At sixteen, he was at an age at which girls were no longer uninteresting anymore, and, although he hadn't had sex yet, he understood the principle of pleasure and knew how damn good it felt when he let his hand go between his legs, stroking and pulling there until he came. He'd done it many times, but right now, as he felt his pants getting rather tight, he was extremely confused. Nevertheless, he wasn't able to avert his eyes from the view he was presented with. The large four-poster bed was occupied by his aunt. He couldn't see much of her. Her body was covered and her hand was moving under the blanket, her eyes closed, her spine arched and her mouth slightly parted, clearly indicating what she was doing. The sight was absolutely intoxicating. He almost let out a moan when Bellatrix moved one hand to her breast, pinching her nipple hard, and the blanket slid down a bit, revealing more of her body. He couldn't help but think that she looked absolutely incredible for her age. Although she looked a little too thin because of the time she had spent in Azkaban, she had curves in all the right places and her breasts looked perfect, like they were begging to be touched...
Good Lord, what was he doing? Somehow he managed to tear his eyes away and slid down against the door, sweat on his forehead and upper lip. This was his aunt, a dangerous Death Eater he had tried his best to avoid until now! She was three times his age and married! Yet, these thoughts didn't have the desired effect. She was way out of limits and this made it all the more exciting for him to watch the dark witch pleasuring herself.
"Aaah, yes!" A long-drawn moan escaped Bellatrix' lips from inside the room and it sent a jolt of pleasure through his body. When he looked through the keyhole again, he saw that the blanket no longer covered her; her body was spread out on the bed and he got a perfect view of her hand moving quickly between her legs, parting her wet lips and rubbing her clit. Her head was turned away from him and she bit into the pillow, presumably to keep herself from screaming out loud in pleasure.
Draco had never seen a girl in a state like this before, let alone a grown woman. His cock twitched uncomfortably, begging for attention, and he granted it, quietly opening his trousers and freeing his already painfully erect member. The smallest part of conscience in his mind screamed at him how wrong this was, how he should stop right then and there and go back to bed like nothing had happened. But lust clouded his mind and he couldn't think straight. All he knew was that it was incredibly erotic to spy on his aunt masturbating. Bellatrix' right hand was working furiously on her clit while her other hand clawed into the bed sheet, an expression of pure pleasure on her face. When Draco started stroking his cock, his body shuddered and he thought he'd come right at that moment. He hadn't noticed just how much this had turned him on. Inside the room, Bellatrix had shifted and changed positions, so she was now sitting up on the bed, riding her hand, her glistening fingers pushed deep inside her cunt, moving them in and out of herself. Draco bit back a moan as he moved his hand up and down his shaft, eventually adopting his aunt's rhythm, moving faster when she did. He could see her biting her lip so hard to keep herself from moaning out loud, that it looked as though she might draw blood. It seemed to get considerably more difficult for her to keep quiet and every few seconds a moan slipped through her parted lips, which only aroused him further. A few moments later, she was deliciously close to orgasm, and so was he. He could see her body tense as she came, her head thrown back, letting a single name escape her mouth: "My Lord!"
Draco had to support himself against the wall; his seed spurted out of him onto the floor and his mind was cleared of all thoughts. He was breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest and his ears whirring. This was the most powerful orgasm he had ever had in his entire life.
Just as he had come down from his high, Draco heard a noise from inside the room and adrenaline shot through his body. He scrambled from the floor, running as quickly and quietly as possible back to his room, and only when he had closed the door behind him, did he dare to breathe again, his body still shaking.
What had he done? She was his bloody aunt, for god's sake! He felt utterly disgusted at himself. If Bellatrix ever found out, she'd probably kill him and rip him into pieces! This clearly hadn't been meant for his or anybody else's eyes. The way she had moaned the Dark Lord's name still sent chills down his spine. He knew she was obsessed with him, but he wouldn't have guessed that her obsession went this far, that she was fantasising about him in such a way. For a split second Draco had wished it would have been his name that she moaned, but this thought was just plain ridiculous. Why should she ever be interested in him? He could never give her what a woman like her wanted. He wasn't powerful or intriguing or charming or even interesting. He was probably only a child in her eyes.
He wasn't able to sleep that night.
Draco didn't want to get up the next morning. Getting up meant that he'd have to face his aunt, and he was sure this wouldn't go well for him. He simply couldn't look her in the eyes anymore. In fact, he wished he'd never have to see her again. Of course, eventually he had to get up as his stomach was rumbling and he was getting entirely bored in his room. When he went down the stairs leading to the entrance hall, he could already hear her voice echoing through the house and he thought he was going to be sick. There were only two people in the dining hall: his mother and Bellatrix, who was lying on the sofa, her legs stretched out and her hand playing with one of her black curls. The sight of her brought back memories of the previous night and he swallowed. She watched him with mild interest when he entered the room and he could feel her eyes following him as he said: "Good morning, father, mother." He avoided looking at her. "Aunt."
Bellatrix was the first to reply: "Good morning, little dragon."
"Draco, you look awful!" His mother came rushing towards him. "Have you slept at all last night?"
"Mother, I...I did sleep. Don't worry."
"Leave the boy alone, Cissy. He's old enough to decide what's best for him. And besides, when I was his age, I didn't get much sleep either. In fact, I was quite a busy girl."
Bellatrix smiled darkly at her sister, but Narcissa shot her a warning glare.
"Draco is my son and I will raise him the way I want to!"
"Sure... I'm certain the Dark Lord's going to be simply delighted about your son being completely useless because his mummy's always done everything for him. It's about time he grew up!" Bellatrix shot back.
What did she mean, she had been a busy girl at his age? The way she had said 'delighted', so seductively. The Dark Lord...she had moaned his name last night.
Draco's mind was racing with thoughts and not so innocent images of his aunt, and he turned red in the face.
"I am not happy with His choices, as you very well know," Narcissa whispered, as if she was afraid that Voldemort might appear any moment.
"I was barely older than him when I joined the Dark Lord!"
"Yes, but you had a choice! My son doesn't!" Narcissa hissed frustratedly.
"Why don't we ask him then, hm?" She elegantly swung her legs off the sofa, something Draco couldn't see because he still refused to look at her. The sound of her heels on the marble floor indicated that she was coming closer to him. "Well, Draco? Tell us, would you like to prove yourself and fight for the Dark Lord and the purity of blood or would you prefer to be a fainéant and useless coward?"
She was standing in front of him now, looking up at his face, and although he would've liked nothing more than to turn away from her at that moment, he stared at her beautiful features, having serious flashbacks of her parted lips, her face, contorted with pleasure, and her gorgeous body. Upon seeing Draco's almost pained expression, Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at him. "It shouldn't be that difficult to answer my question," she said, dangerously quiet. "You should know where you loyalties lie."
He glanced at his mother, who looked ready to kill her older sister.
"Bellatrix, stop playing your games and leave my son alone!"
Bellatrix didn't turn around, but instead smiled sweetly at Draco, who was only a little taller than she was.
"Can't you speak for yourself? Does your mummy have to protect you from auntie Bella?" she mocked him, her face closer to his than ever before. He could almost feel her warm breath tickling his skin.
"Draco, go up to your room," Narcissa ordered him. "I need to talk to my sister. Alone.
Draco didn't need to be told twice; he practically fled from the room, glad he was able to get away from his aunt.
"Whatever is the matter, Cissy? Don't you want to accept the fact that your son is just as useless as your husband?" Draco heard Bellatrix asking. He stopped in his tracks, standing at the foot of the stairs, not far away from the door which led to the dining hall. He was still able to hear their voices and decided to eavesdrop.
"Leave Lucius out of this! It was just as much your fault as it was his," his mother said.
"Yes, but I have already paid for it!"
"Paid for it?" Narcissa snorted with derision. "You mean that one hour of torture the Dark Lord has punished you with before he decided he'd rather do something more pleasurable with you in the guestroom?"
Draco's eyes widened. Was his mother implying that...?
"Mmmh, and what a night it was." Bellatrix giggled at her sister's expression.
"Don't look so smug. I know that he hasn't forgiven you yet, but..." Narcissa paused and Bellatrix looked at her expectantly.
"But?"
"Bella...I..." She took a deep breath. "I know you're closest him. Can't you...can't you at least try to convince him that Draco isn't...my son isn't ready, Bella. He isn't a Death Eater! He's not even of age. I can't..." Narcissa's voice was nothing more than a whisper and she could feel her eyes filling up with tears.
Bellatrix looked like she was in a conflict with herself, opening her mouth and closing it again without saying anything as she watched the tears running down her little sister's face. She didn't know what to do; she wasn't used to situations like this.
"Narcissa...Cissy, I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Draco...I'm sure he'll make us proud."
"No. He'd make you proud. I already am proud of him," Narcissa said between sobs. "Doesn't your nephew mean anything to you? Bella, please, he's my only son! He's my everything." Her voice broke off. Bellatrix shook her head.
"Even if I did ask him, we both know he wouldn't change his mind. He needs Draco because he has access to Potter."
"But you could try!" Narcissa cried out, burying her face in her hands.
"No! You don't understand! The Dark Lord doesn't...We're not...I don't think I'm in a position where I can make any requests. Things are not like they used to be." Bellatrix' voice was strangely soft and even a bit affectionate. "I'm so sorry." She put her hand on her little sister's shoulder, but Narcissa slapped it away.
"Get out."
"What? I-"
"Get out!" Narcissa screamed at her sister, pointing her sparking wand at her, and even Draco would've been afraid of his mother. Bellatrix, however, seemed to be speechless about her sister's outbreak of feelings. She eyed the wand pointed at her and wordlessly turned around, walking towards the door. Draco was so baffled, he noticed too late that he had nowhere to hide.
Bellatrix spotted him immediately, her eyes narrowing. Closing the door behind her with an angry swipe of her hand, she said: "It's not very polite to listen to other people's conversations, you know."
As she walked towards him, he couldn't help but appreciate her body, his eyes roaming over her full breasts, pushed up by the black corset she was wearing, to her long legs, peeking through a slit in her skirt. He took a few steps back, but stopped when he felt the hard wall pressing into his back.
"You do want to make your family proud, don't you?" his aunt asked. She only stopped walking when she stood right in front of him. "We'd be so proud of you. I'd be so proud."
She tilted her head to one side, her eyes never leaving him. He didn't know where to look, with her in such a close distance he'd just have to reach out and touch her...
Think innocent thoughts. Think innocent thoughts. Think innocent thoughts.
He repeated the sentence in his head like a mantra, but it didn't help. Forbidden images of him and his aunt entered his mind. Bellatrix, spread out on a table in front him, her legs wide open; on her knees, sucking his cock; riding him like she had ridden her hand last night. Draco could barely suppress a whimper.
"I believe I've asked you something," she said, oblivious to his thoughts.
"I-I-I- Yes, I want to make you proud," he stuttered and she smiled, satisfied at his answer.
"Very well," she said and walked past him, up the stairs. She stopped halfway up the stairs, turned around again, the smile still on her face, and said: "By the way, it's also rude to stare."
