Chapter Fourteen
She sat on the edge of their bed fully dressed in her formal gown watching Antonin finish getting dressed in his finest dress robes. Deep blue, of course. They'd both slept in quite late that morning out of sheer exhaustion. Antonin hadn't been sleeping more than a few hours at a time wherever he could spare them for almost two weeks. His impromptu trip to Russia had taken a lot out of him. Hermione had been unable to sleep much in his absence for entirely different reasons. She'd been in almost constant fear since the night Antonin left her naked in the hedge maze.
She knew she couldn't exactly blame him for his abandonment. He served a cruel master who cared for nothing but his own treacherous agenda. Antonin was at his mercy and when he was summoned, her protector had no choice but to leave. If she'd spent the previous twelve days alone with only Argos' company in the privacy of their own cottage she might have had an easier time with his absence. As it was, Rabastan decided to take advantage of Antonin's absence. He followed her around the manor. A few nights she swore that he came into their room while she was asleep. Her fear had gotten bad enough that she ignored Antonin's rules against dogs being in the bed. By the fourth night of his mission, Argos spent every night huddled protectively next to his mistress drooling on Antonin's pillow.
Lestrange had even invited guests. Thorfinn was an almost daily visitor. The two wizards spent most evenings in Lucius' drawing room consuming his fine wines and no doubt sexually harassing his poor goddaughter. She didn't really mind Thorfinn as much as she used to. He could make her laugh and as much as she hated to admit it to herself, she actually felt safer when the massive blonde wizard was in the manor. No, it was randomly bumping into Walden in the corridors or the blasted Carrows that unnerved her the most. One night she was trying to escape up to her room while Argos was preoccupied with his evening meal in the kitchen. Walden actually physically stopped her in the darkened shadows on the first landing on the stairs. His hand brushed against her bare elbow and the gleam in his eyes made her feel nauseous. He grinned at her, feared for her life and was immediately saved by Thorfinn rushing up the stairs. He escorted her to her bedroom and every night afterwards she accompanied Argos to the kitchen to watch him eat.
No one could, or would, give her any information about Antonin's whereabouts. Part of her feared that he would never return. What would happen to her then? A week into his disappearance Thorfinn attempted to reassure her as he drank more of Antonin's fire whiskey in the library while he waited for Rabastan.
"Don't worry so much about him, Princess. He's a very capable wizard. He will be back before you know it to silently brood in a dark corner like he likes to do."
She was certain when she felt the bed dip when he returned that Rabastan was finally about to do what his eyes always promised. She'd been convinced that Antonin was dead and Rabastan was coming to claim her for his own. When she turned over and saw Antonin's familiar features awash in moonlight, she burst out crying. In that moment she knew she was safe again. Her future seemed less unsure with her Antonin by her side.
"You look very nice," she said when Antonin finished buttoning the final button on his robes.
"Thank you." He crossed the room to give her a very short peck on the lips. "You look beautiful tonight, daragaya."
She shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. Rosie had been insistent that despite her other duties required as head house elf, she would make sure that Missy Hermione was presentable. The persistent elf was able to straighten her frizzled curls and twist it up in a chic chignon that was most certainly held up entirely by magic. Rosie spent over an hour making certain that she would be one of the most beautiful guests at the party. If Antonin's reaction when they finally emerged from the bathroom was any indication, they were successful.
"How long do I have to stay downstairs?" she asked not even bothering to hide the prominent pout on her lips.
"I don't care, honestly," he replied as he sat down on the bed next to her. "Rabastan said there would be fireworks at midnight. If you wanted to wait until then to make your appearance, it would be all right with me."
"What about you? Do you want to hide upstairs with me?" She winked, hoping he understood her true meaning.
"Very, very tempting offer, Hermione, but I'm afraid I must rub some elbows. Most of my associates will know I'm back in the country this evening. It might seem suspicious if I don't make my presence known."
"Not to mention Rabastan will be insufferable if you don't attend."
Antonin grasped one of her hands in his and brought it up to his lips for a kiss.
"You know him too well. We would never hear the end of it," he agreed.
"Do you want me to come with you?" She begged him to say 'no' internally. Spending an entire evening socializing with Death Eaters and Ministry officials sounded awful, especially considering the fact they were all gathered to celebrate the murder of her best friend.
"Nothing would make me happier than to have a beautiful witch on my arm that I could show off. I would be the envy of all of the guests," he answered. "But I know how distasteful this party is for you and I wouldn't wish you to be forced into any awkward conversations. I don't want you to have to converse with anyone you hate."
"Thank you, Antonin."
He rose from the bed and gave her a final kiss before disappearing into the corridor. Already the sounds of the orchestra and guests mingling throughout the house and grounds were audible. Rabastan was more than a little pleased to announce at dinner the night before that he'd already received over one thousand confirmed acceptances via owl. He expected his celebration to be the event of the year. Most of dinner had been spent listening to the man brag about the damned party. Thorfinn caught Hermione's eye multiple times during the meal to roll his eyes and make her laugh. Even Vince and Gary were less than entertained by his incessant rambling.
The clock on Antonin's nightstand chimed the nine o'clock hour. She almost didn't hear the sound over the rising noise of the party. Hermione sat on the comfortable sofa in front of the fireplace completely engrossed in a book about goblin rebellions in the fourteenth century. Somehow the author was able to make them sound much more interesting than Professor Binns ever could. Argos was downstairs in the kitchen lying in front of the fire and hoping the harried elves would be extra clumsy with the food platters in the excitement of the evening.
Hermione was so thoroughly distracted that she didn't even notice the door to the bedroom open a few minutes after nine. She also didn't see the wizard enter until he was standing in front of her only inches away. He probably only stood there for three or four seconds before Hermione finally spotted him. She felt her heart leap into her throat and her pulse began to race.
"Damn it, Rabastan!" she hissed a moment after she calmed down. Lestrange was leering down at her with a satisfied smirk on his face. "What do you want?"
"I want to know why you aren't downstairs enjoying my fabulous party, my dear," he answered. His eyes raked in her form. Like Antonin, his appreciation was obvious. "A dress like that begs to be shown off, Hermione."
"Antonin said I could stay up here until the fireworks."
Rabastan snatched her book out of her hands. Before she could protest he had his hands around her waist and she was standing only inches from the man. Ignoring her struggling, Rabastan pulled the young witch to the door that led to the corridor. He took hold of her hand and removed her forcibly from the sanctuary of her bedroom. With a wave of his wand the door began to glow blue. Hermione yanked her hand out of his grip and tried to touch the door. Each attempt simply caused her to gently bump off of the door.
"The wards on your door will disappear at three in the morning," Rabastan announced with a laugh. "I suggest you enjoy the festivities downstairs until that time."
Rabastan began to stride down the long hallway towards the cacophony of the party. Midway down the corridor he stopped and turned back around to address a furious Hermione.
"Oh, and don't think you can simply hide away in the library either. If I don't see you out on the grounds with my guests, my darling Hermione, I will endeavor to find your hiding place and proceed to attach you to my side with a permanent sticking charm. I know how much you would hate that."
Not for the first time in the four months since she moved into Lestrange's Manor she wished she had her wand. She could think of a thousand different nasty little hexes and jinxes she wanted to send down the hallway to hit the man. He could be so infuriating! Hermione took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It would be suicidal to even attempt to hurt the man. She was unfortunately, at his complete mercy. Antonin was the only person keeping her protected.
Hermione took her time walking down the long hallway towards the staircase. She knew better than to assume that Rabastan was bluffing. Unfortunately, hiding in her bedroom and hiding in the library would not be options. She briefly wondered if the house elves would notice if she lay down next to Argos on the kitchen rug watching for scraps to fall to the floor. Probably. The sounds of laughter and music wafted up the staircase. She stood at the top step to get a better view of the Entrance Hall. Witches and wizards were walking in and out of the manor dressed in their finest robes. Everyone seemed to be having an enjoyable evening. Knowing that every single person downstairs and outside on the grounds was there to revel in the fact that Harry Potter was dead made Hermione angry.
She passed an elf at the bottom of the stairs holding a silver tray filled with full champagne glasses. A flute was in each hand before she allowed the elf to move on to the next guest. If she was going to be forced to attend the fucking party, she wouldn't do so sober. She had been with the guests for approximately four seconds before she was recognized and the whispers started. No one wanted to actually engage her in conversation, but most of them seemed perfectly content to talk about her. She swallowed both glasses of champagne in quick succession before stepping out the front door.
The activity on the grounds was even worse than inside. There seemed to be a thousand people outside alone. A veritable rainbow of formal dress robes crossed her path. Hermione wasn't sure where she wanted to go. She knew that she had to at least make eye contact with Rabastan at some point. Perhaps Antonin was conversing with someone not too horrible. Another floating tray of champagne (actually it was perched on an elf's head) passed her by. She took another two glasses and began walking amongst the guests.
It was a Who's Who of every single person she hated in the Wizarding world with the exception of the bloody Dark Lord himself. She recognized many guests that had been there for private dinners with Rabastan. Even recognized several she'd only seen looking down a wand. Many of the revelers had tried to murder her on multiple occasions. Walden Macnair raised his glass in salute to her when she passed by. She simply glared at the lecherous old wizard as he examined her entire body. No doubt he was imagining what she had underneath the beautiful Kelly green gown. Albert Runcorn stared at her with narrowed eyes. He didn't move towards her to make an effort to speak to her thankfully. The heavily pregnant witch hanging on his arm looked miserable. She would've felt sorry for the woman if she didn't suspect she was carrying Runcorn's spawn. Yaxley and his surprisingly pretty wife nodded in her direction when she passed by. He had been nothing but polite to her in his many visits to the manor. She didn't have anything personally against that particular Death Eater so she nodded back in their direction.
Vince greeted her with an overfamiliarity that made her stomach clench. He leaned down to brush his whiskey soaked lips across her cheek. While his best mate Gary laughed at the discomfort Hermione felt at the attention, he snaked his arm around her waist and actually sniffed her neck. She could just imagine the man running his disgusting tongue across the soft skin at her throat. The thought made her cringe. Gary pinched her bum and burst out laughing at the furious glare she shot at him.
"You'd think, Vince, that after spending almost two entire weeks away from his witch that Antonin might be keeping a closer eye on her," laughed Gary.
"Please remove your hands, Vince," she said through clenched teeth. Surprisingly he complied with her request. She expected to have to put up more of a fight.
Hermione managed to get about a foot away before Gary's hand grabbed her waist and he roughly pulled her into his chest. The wizard whispered a warning or possibly a threat into her hair.
"Be careful, Hermione. There are those at this party that would like to see you harmed. Don't find yourself alone. You won't like what happens. Stay around the other guests."
Gary Goyle released his hold on her almost as if she were made of molten lava. He couldn't get his hands off of her fast enough. With a discreet nod towards his friend, he and Vince disappeared amongst the crowd. Hermione wasn't sure how to process Gary's warning. She certainly wasn't planning on being backed into a corner with an enemy, but she did unfortunately, have an awful time of finding herself in trouble. She slammed her third glass of champagne back. The alcohol was slowly beginning to make its presence felt in the tingling in her body. She briefly wondered if Rabastan would release the wards on her bedroom early if she got revoltingly intoxicated and began to make an absolute fool of herself in front of his posh guests. She imagined Antonin would come running the moment she started to disrobe and swim in the garden fountains. Maybe all she would have to do was get drunk enough to vomit near the refreshment tables. There were certainly reporters with their camerawizards documenting the 'Party of the Year'. Rabastan wouldn't want them to get any snaps of his house guest throwing up on the canapés.
A short, squatty, toad-faced witch dressed in the most god-awful floral robes made eye contact with Hermione across the front gardens. Dolores Umbridge sneered when she saw her former student. No doubt she was angry that for whatever reason, Hermione was no longer trapped in a Ministry cell at her mercy or stuck in Azkaban at the mercy of the dementors. Hermione was certain that the woman had a great deal to say on the subject. When the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic glared at her and began walking straight in her direction, Hermione began to panic. The last time she saw that woman she was hit with the strongest Cruciatus Curse she'd ever experienced. Umbridge wanted her dead and Hermione wasn't entirely certain that she wouldn't try something in the middle of the party.
Hermione used her vast knowledge of the layout of the formal gardens to her advantage in her attempt to elude the witch. She practically ran as fast as she could towards the area that held the hedge maze and the extensive topiary collection. Thankfully, the other witch's legs were too short to catch up with her before she was able to disappear behind a hedge. Hermione resorted to literally crouching down on the ground behind a four foot high shrub to avoid the woman.
"Avoiding someone, Princess?"
She almost groaned out loud when she saw the shadow that could only belong to Thorfinn Rowle fall across her body. Turning slightly to look up into the amused man's face, Hermione tried to convey all of her anger and frustration with a single expression. It was a face that used to make Harry and Ron run to the opposite side of the common room in fear. Thorfinn simply found it entertaining.
"Rabastan will be so disappointed to know that you found his party so distasteful that you resorted to crouching in the bushes."
"Shut up, Thorfinn!" she hissed under her breath. "Is Dolores Umbridge still headed this way?"
Thorfinn surveyed the area near her hiding place. Hermione watched his features for a hint of what he was seeing. It was still too risky for her to stand up in case the horrid bitch of a woman spotted her. She didn't think Umbridge would try anything, but she couldn't be certain. They had exceptionally bad blood between each other. Theirs was a feud that would likely never disappear. When the first one died, the other would gladly dance and spit on the other's grave.
"She's obviously looking for someone," he answered. "What did you do, Princess?"
"Never mind that! Is she headed this way?"
He watched the Ministry official for several more minutes before he declared it safe for Hermione to stand. Umbridge had given up. Thorfinn extended a hand to help the witch to her feet. She was thankful for the gesture. Her muscles had begun to stiffen up after being in such an awkward position for so long.
"You clean up nice. Where's your tiara, Princess?" Thorfinn continued to tease.
"Thanks, Thorfinn. That almost qualifies as polite conversation. From you, though, I'll take it. Won't likely get any better."
The blonde laughed at her response. She took the time to take a closer look at his choice of outfits for the evening. It almost pained her to admit that he too, 'cleaned up nice'. His dark green robes were almost black and they were obviously tailor made to fit his muscular frame. She suppressed a laugh at the almost charitable thoughts she had about the man.
"Where's your jailer? Shouldn't he be protecting you from terrifying, middle-aged witches with ghastly fashion sense?"
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his description of Dolores Umbridge. She was truly an awful human being. One day she hoped she could murder the bitch. Or at the very least wave to her as she was dragged off to Azkaban.
"I haven't seen Antonin for hours. He promised me I wouldn't have to come downstairs until midnight," she answered. "Unfortunately, Rabastan had other ideas. He dragged me out of my room and warded the door. I can't go back until three."
"Midnight, huh? Seems awfully late to make an entrance. I'll admit that the party has so far, been fairly boring, but that just seems rude. Especially for a house guest of the host."
The smirk on his face and the twinkle in his eye proved that Thorfinn was simply mocking her.
"I'm not a guest. Antonin is the guest. I'm a hostage," she retorted to his continued amusement. "Antonin promised me that I wouldn't have to come downstairs until the party was beginning to wind down."
"I'm surprised he doesn't want to parade you around in your pretty green dress to make all of the other wizards jealous." He winked and Hermione snorted.
"Yes, well, he didn't want me to be forced to speak to anyone I hated. Too bad he couldn't save me from your company."
"You can't deny that you love every moment spent with me, Princess."
Hermione laughed again at the man. While she would never admit that she actually enjoyed his presence, he had his moments when he could be amusing. She started sipping on her fourth glass of champagne of the evening. The first three glasses were enough that she was feeling pleasantly buzzed. A few more and she might be drunk enough to enjoy herself. Thorfinn stared down at her while he sipped his own glass. His eyes widened after a moment.
"Fuck! He's spotted us."
Hermione turned to look in the direction Thorfinn was scowling. Amycus Carrow had a grin on his face and was rushing towards them. A quick scan of the immediate area proved that there was nowhere to run. He would approach them before they had adequate chance to escape.
"Good evening, Thorfinn! Miss Granger!" he greeted. Thorfinn and Hermione both groaned and didn't respond. "Wonderful party, isn't it?"
"I guess, Amycus," Thorfinn replied, sipping from his wine glass again.
"Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Granger?"
"Not really, Carrow. I'm at a party celebrating the day that my best friends were murdered and I was forced to go on the run," she snapped.
Thorfinn snorted into his glass. Amycus didn't even seem the least bit perturbed by her response. He was a strange wizard. Hermione couldn't stand him. She'd unfortunately had to spend at least four evenings in his presence since she moved in to the manor. Rabastan found him amusing for reasons no one else seemed to understand. Amycus ran his eyes up and down Hermione's frame in frank appreciation.
"Beautiful gown, Miss Granger."
"Thanks."
She hated the way he was staring at her but her mother taught her to be polite. Amycus brushed his fingertips down Hermione's bare arm. She shuddered at the contact. Moments later all three of their champagne glasses erupted in an explosion of tiny shards of glass. She felt the glass cut her face and neck in several places. A quick look at Thorfinn and Amycus showed they had similar injuries. It had been years since she had a burst of unintentional wandless magic. Part of her felt extremely embarrassed by the display and the other enjoyed seeing blood on Carrow's face.
"Oh, no! You have blood all over your pretty face, Miss Granger," Amycus exclaimed. He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at several spots on her face that were bleeding.
Hermione shrugged him off. She would rather bleed to death than have that man touch her for a moment longer. Amycus removed his wand to make an attempt to heal some of the cuts on Thorfinn's face. The bumbling wizard instead accidentally poked one of Thorfinn's bleeding wounds with the end of his wand. How he managed to get away from Rowle's wrath without his wand snapping was a mystery to all involved. Thorfinn pushed Amycus away from him.
"Quit touching us!" Thorfinn demanded. "Go away, Carrow. I'll take care of this. Your assistance is not needed."
Hermione was grateful when the incompetent professor stumbled away from the angry wizard. Thorfinn watched to make certain that he left. When he was satisfied that Amycus was gone, he turned his attention back to Hermione. He removed his own handkerchief from his pocket with a concerned expression on his features. With more gentleness than Hermione could imagine he possessed, Thorfinn carefully cleaned the blood off of her face. His wand passed over her face and neck. Immediately she felt the skin heal itself and the pain disappeared.
"Thank you, Thorfinn."
"As good as new, Princess. No one will even suspect you blew up a glass in your own face."
He winked at her and she snorted again.
"What about you? Do you need someone to heal your face? I don't have a wand, but I'm sure we could get someone to help."
"It's all right," he assured her. "No need to get mine. Witches like scars. I'll tell them I got them in a fierce duel with a dangerous foe."
She giggled at his response. His injuries were relatively mild. There would likely be no scarring of any kind. They both laughed for a moment before an elf appeared out of nowhere with a tray of champagne. There were only two glasses. Thorfinn handed her one and took the other. Hermione was sure that the elves were keeping a close eye on all of the guests. Her accident must have been noticed by the staff.
"Excellent service," Thorfinn said as he took his first drink from the glass.
"Indeed."
Hermione took a sip of the champagne. She noticed while she was drinking a sudden almost overpowering collection of scents assaulted her olfactory senses. Sniffing the air around them, she began receiving odd looks from Thorfinn.
"You all right, Princess?"
"Do you smell that?" She sniffed the air again. Thorfinn took a hesitant sniff at her insistence. "Are you chewing spearmint gum?"
It was a strange enough question that Thorfinn actually laughed before shaking his head emphatically in the negative.
"I smell spearmint. It's really strong."
"I'm not sure what you're smelling, Hermione. I don't."
"And… this is weird. I smell parchment. Do you have letters in your pocket?"
Hermione stepped closer to the wizard and sniffed. He was amused by her actions and didn't even move.
"I also smell fresh cut grass."
"Uhh, Princess, we're standing outside. Everyone smells fresh cut grass."
"Of course, you're right. It's just…"
She didn't know what her next comment was going to be. The smells were almost making her head hurt they were so concentrated.
"Do you smell anything strange?" she asked.
Thorfinn sniffed the air deeply at her request. An odd expression crossed his features too.
"I wouldn't say 'strange', but I smell honeysuckle. Pretty strongly too. Hmm, didn't notice that earlier. Oh, and now I'm smelling sticky toffee pudding. That's my favorite. My mum made the best when she was still alive. Do you think dessert is being served now?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"I'm going to go check. Are you going to be all right, Princess?"
Hermione lowered herself down on a nearby bench. She assured him that she would be fine before he wandered off looking for pudding. Men seemed to be all the same. Led by their stomachs. She could imagine Ron being distracted by the thought of pudding just the same. Thoughts of her friend made her increasingly melancholy. It had been a horrible night and she still had hours before she would be allowed back into her room. She drained her glass once more, losing count finally of the number she'd imbibed. It didn't matter. She was done with the celebration of the worst day of her life. How any of the people wandering around the grounds could be in such a good mood was beyond her.
After several minutes she started to feel a bit flushed. A weird feeling began to move through her entire body. She hoped she wasn't getting ill again. Antonin and Rosie had both been insufferable when she was sick. She was certain she couldn't bear another episode of them worrying themselves about her and spending every waking moment checking on her. It was exhausting. Certainly not conducive to getting better.
She also wondered if maybe she'd simply had too much to drink too fast. Screw Rabastan, she thought. She rose from the bench and headed towards the front door of the manor. The grounds were getting too crowded and she knew it would be easier to hide indoors. Thankfully the inside of the manor had fewer guests to avoid. As she passed the grand staircase she grabbed two full glasses of champagne off of another tray. She took gulps of the cold sparkling wine hoping that it would help. Her entire body felt like it was on fire.
It all became clear to her what she needed in that moment. She needed to find her wizard. She needed to find her wizard and she needed to find him quickly. Somehow she knew everything would be okay if she could just find him.
Her feet carried her down the hallway towards the library. There were guests everywhere, but no one seemed to be paying her much attention. Thank Godric for small favors. Several guests were congregated in Rabastan's study. She hated that room. Too much time had been spent in there after blasted dinner parties listening to Rabastan's guests. When she was only feet from the door to the study, she saw him. He was exiting the study.
Their eyes met. He gave her a small smile and she beamed back at him to his great pleasure. She moved quickly to close the space between them never breaking eye contact. He raised a single eyebrow when she pulled on his robes. Hermione ignored everyone else in the house. At the moment, there was no party in her world. She was alone with her wizard. He didn't seem to mind that she was pulling him down the hallway.
No one was in the library to her intense delight. Pushing the man inside the door, the witch closed the door behind her and turned the lock. He smirked. She placed both of her hands on the wizard's broad chest and pressed him against the nearest bookshelf. Ordinarily they had no difficulty conversing, but in that moment, neither of them knew words were needed. Hermione rose on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.
Her wizard needed no further encouragement. He crushed her lips to his with a groan. Hermione's hands moved up his chest to encircle his neck. His hands roamed her body, never staying in the same place for longer than a moment or two. Their kissing was more heated than either of them anticipated. Whatever was coursing through Hermione to make her feel flushed was heightening all of her senses. She took the dominant role and her tongue explored his mouth much to his delight. He groaned into her mouth, pulling her body against him with both of his hands on her bum. She longed to wrap her legs around his waist, but didn't want to scare him off with her uncharacteristic boldness.
She wasn't sure what had gotten into her that evening. Normally she felt a little amorous when she had too much wine. This was something completely different. Neither of them was sure how much time passed with them simply snogging up against the bookshelf. The party might have been over for all they knew. Hours, days even might have passed. His hands moved up her sides to cup her breasts. The thin fabric of her dress left very little to the imagination when his fingers began to pluck her hardened nipples. She gasped at the sensation and knew that if she didn't do something drastic she was going to explode.
"What has gotten into you?" he whispered into her flesh as he licked and nipped up and down her exposed collarbone.
"Are you complaining?"
He chuckled against her neck causing her entire body to erupt into delicious goosebumps.
"Not at all."
Hermione placed both of her hands back on his thick chest. She used her strength to push the man back against the bookshelf. He seemed shocked by the sudden movement. He started to protest until he saw the expression in her darkened eyes. She ran her hands down his torso. He hissed when one made contact with the tent in his trousers. Hermione smiled at the groans that slipped from his mouth when she ran both of her hands up and down his bulging erection. The buttons on his trousers were difficult. She almost resorted to ripping them until with a bright smile on his face he reached down to undo them for her. The witch slipped a hand inside to grasp his hardened penis. He hissed at the contact which only spurred her on further.
Without a second thought, she dropped to her knees in front of the wizard. He stared down at her with the most eager face she'd ever seen. Their eyes met as she wrapped her lips around him. The wizard released an uncontrollable groan. She ran her wet tongue up and down his engorged shaft, smiling slightly each time he gasped at the sensations she was causing sucking and pulling him further and further into the warm recesses of her mouth. Her hands rested on his thighs, periodically reaching over to cup him as she sucked harder. After several minutes, he gently pushed her away.
"If you keep going, Hermione, I'm not going to be able to keep this up much longer."
She laughed and allowed him to help her back to her feet. Their lips found each other once more. After another fierce battle for dominance, Hermione pulled away.
"How long have you been fantasizing about what I just did to you against the bookshelf?" she asked.
"For far longer than I'm willing to admit."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. We can't stay down here. Anyone could walk in on us."
Hermione took her wizard by the hand. With his trousers still unbuttoned and open, he followed her up the narrow spiral staircase. They didn't stop until they were safely ensconced at the window seat on the third floor. She turned her back on him to stare out the window. He placed his large hands on her shoulders, slowly moving them down to the discreet zipper on the back of her garment. She granted him an encouraging smile over her shoulder. The wizard gradually lowered the zipper inch by inch. It seemed to take forever before the garment was loose enough to be pushed off of her body. The dress pooled on the floor at their feet. Immediately his mouth latched itself onto her bare shoulders. She gasped at the sharp nibbles he placed on her bare flesh.
"I need you now," she whispered.
He tapped his wand on her stomach. Immediately she felt a familiar swirling within her abdomen indicating the effectiveness of the contraceptive charm.
"I'm not ready to be a papa yet," he whispered with a laugh.
The wizard frantically pulled on his clothing to drop them in the same pile as Hermione's dress. She made a show of lowering her knickers to join the rest of their clothing. He watched every single motion she made with abated breath. When the small scrap of fabric hit the floor, it all became too much for the hot-blooded wizard. He lifted her up into his strong arms to push her small frame against a familiar bookshelf. She placed both of her hands on his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her in place with a single arm and used the other hand to guide his swollen member into her tight, waiting passage.
They both gasped at the feel once he was safely sheathed inside of her body. For several moments they simply stared at each other while her body adjusted to the sheer size of him. Neither said a word, afraid to break the spell of the moment. The only sounds in the almost silent library were their heavy breaths.
"Move," she demanded.
He needed no further encouragement to begin a slow, steady pace of thrusting in and out of her body.
"Fuck! You feel amazing, witch. So fucking amazing."
She encouraged him to increase his pace. The wizard squeezed both of her bum cheeks as he slammed harder and harder into her. They both were moaning at the unbelievable sensations running through their bodies. Hermione felt even more flushed than she had earlier, but chose to ignore her concerns in the moment. Their frenetic pace meant that neither of them was going to last much longer. The feelings were too intense, too heightened to last. She squeezed her muscles tight around him making the man growl at the feeling. Her pleasure was building inside of her, a tight ball of desire just waiting to push her over the precipice. He pistoned in and out of her with such force that Hermione almost screamed. As she felt her body begin to come apart around him, she bit down into his shoulder. Only moments later he followed, erupting inside of her with a force she had never experienced.
They both collapsed to the floor, their legs unable to withstand any more weight. Hermione felt temporarily sated, but something within her knew that the feeling wouldn't last much longer. Already she could feel the heat running through her veins that she experienced downstairs. She rolled over to press her lips against the wizard's. Despite him still struggling to catch his breath, he gladly returned the kiss. He moved on to his side to get a better look at her when they broke apart again. His hand cupped her cheek and she smiled.
"I want to take you out of this manor," he whispered. "Take you somewhere where he can't ever find you."
"Do you, really?"
She stared into his piercing blue eyes and kissed him again. This peck was simply a brush of her lips against his. Their breaths were slowly coming back under control after their intense exertions. Hermione ran her hand through his blonde hair and placed another kiss on his forehead.
"I'm serious, Princess."