Shrieking Shack
Hermione looked around. Try not to look suspicious, she told herself. You're just a prefect doing your rounds, nothing out of the ordinary. She walked to the secret passage, her head held high, trying to look confident. Looking around once more to make sure no one was seeing her she came face to face with a young student.
Both of their faces want pale at an instant. Hermione was trying to come up with an excuse when she remembered that she was a prefect. She needed to establish authority.
"Ten points off Hufflepuff for violating the curfew and back to your common room."
Luckily, the student nodded and obeyed. She couldn't have handled a lengthy discussion right now.
Leaving the castle through a secret passage she found herself alone on the grounds. It was windy and the bright moon illuminated the site.
Hermione took a deep breath. She fastened her Gryffindor tie and stroked over her skirt before walking to the Whomping Willow. She poked the knot in the trunk to enter the Shrieking Shank.
She slowly walked through the abandoned building. It smelt moldy and with each step she took the wooden floor cracked beneath her feet. Arriving upstairs, she could see an old four-poster bed. The fabric was dusty and eaten up by moths.
Taking a couple of steps into the room her stomach clenched. She shouldn't be here. Contemplating if she should return to the castle before anybody would notice her missing, she became awfully aware of another presence.
With loud steps that oozed confidence, he walked towards her. Hermione swallowed hard. The tapping of his walking cane reminded her of a ticking clock. Her eyes were fixed on his sliver mask.
He was wearing it despite not needing it as the snake of his cane with its glowing green eyes revealed his identity. Yet it impacted her. Her heart rate increased. It was terrifying to be in the same room with a Deatheater in full montage.
He approached her. They were close enough to touch each other. Hermione felt his warm breath coming out of the narrow slits of his mask caress her sensitive skin. Their eyes met.
She refused to bow down under his scrutinizing gaze. His piercing blue eyes mustered her from head to toe, lingering over her curves.
He grabbed her lower arm. Holding her up he forced Hermione to stand on her toes. Completely off balance, she knew she would fall onto the dirty ground if he loosened the grip on her arm.
"My, my, seems like I caught myself a little… mudblood," he purred.
Hermione was shivering. Goosebumps covered her arms. She took a deep breath. Her free hand reached up and with her finger, she traced the lines on his mask.
He didn't take a step back but kept staring at the young witch. He tucked his wand and walking cane into his Deatheater robes. He placed his now free hand onto her back and pushed the petite witch against his tall frame. His big hand moved over her back, over her waist and butt, trailing her feminine curves.
Hermione's lips parted as she exhaled.
He moved his hand lower. Reaching beneath her skirt, he cupped her buttcheeks.
She let out a moan as the Deatheater kneeled her soft flesh. Slowly letting go of her arm, he fondled her other cheek. She held onto his shoulder leaning against him. She tilted her head to the side and he inhaled her sweet scent. The cold metal of his mask touched her neck making her shudder.
Looking into her big brown eyes, he traced her lower lips through her knickers. He was skillfully teasing her sensitive bud. Wetness seeped through the thin fabric and coated his long elegant fingers.
He tutted. "What a dirty little mudblood you are; all wet for the big, bad Deatheater."
Her cheeks were burning as she rubbed herself against his fingers. Desperately wanting more friction she couldn't help herself. Grinding herself against him she let out a moan.
He vanished his mask and hood. His long blond hair fell over his shoulders.
Hermione let her hand run through the silky strands. She bit her lip. With her arms around his neck and on tiptoes, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips.
He lifted her up deepening the kiss. His tongue hungrily explored her mouth, drinking up her sweetness. Taking a few steps back until his legs hit a wooden chair, he sat down placing her on his lap.
So close to him, she could feel his heat radiate through her body. She moved her hips, rubbing herself against his growing erection. Her eyes were on him. She watched his eyelids shut. Hermione smiled proudly knowing what effect she had on the older wizard.
He swiftly loosened the red and golden striped tie of her school uniform. With his big hands, he tore her blouse open. He cupped her perfectly shaped breasts, weighing them with his hands.
Hermione reached into his Deatheater robes knowing that she shouldn't be doing this. He was much older than her, the father of a classmate, and most importantly a Deatheater. But for some reason that didn't bother her. She found it arousing. There was something forbidden about it. And she wanted more.
Kissing him with urgency she reached into his trousers. He was hot and throbbing. She licked her lips before her hand moved up and down his long shaft. He felt so big in her small hand. His eyes shut and he let out a groan.
Hermione enjoyed having the big, bad Deatheater completely in her hand. It was empowering to have Voldemort's righthand man at her mercy.
She teased his tip. He let out a loud breath. He was rock hard and she could feel his veins pulsate. She lifted her butt off his lap. Leaning forward she kissed the Deatheater.
He dominated her small mouth while his big hands held onto her butt.
Hermione pushed her knickers aside. She lowered her self onto him, positioning herself on top of him. She watched him as she sank down on him. She moaned as she felt him enter her, stretching her completely, filling her to the brim. The young witch needed a moment to collect herself. Adjusting to being so full with Deatheater, she sighed.
Hermione leaned forward and kissed him almost chastely. She moved her hips a little, teasing him. The grip onto her hips increased. She held tightly onto him. With her eyes fixed on him, she slowly raised herself. Her insides clenched around him, milking him.
His piercing blue eyes were darkened with lust, silently begging her for more. Hermione sank down on him deliberately slow. He became impatient, raising his hips, meeting her halfway, pushing himself into the tight little witch. With his strong arms, he pushed her hips down on him.
Getting rather impatient herself, Hermione picked up the pace. She needed more than feeling each of his veins tease her sensitive inner walls. She increased the speed.
He met her movements. Hermione placed her hands on his shoulder. She dug her nails into his shoulders as he thrusted into her harder and harder. Electrical shocks went through her body. Her breathing was labored and her small hands grabbed more tightly onto his robes. She let out squeals of delight. Her inner walls clenched around him, more forcefully.
He was hot and throbbing inside her. It became hard for her to continue moving. His big hands steadied her upper body, preventing the little witch from falling. He pushed into her with all his strength, drawing more of the delicious squeaks from her little mouth.
Letting out a couple of grunts, he thrusted into her forcefully. He came hard, spilling himself deep inside of her before falling back onto the chair bonelessly.
Hermione let out a loud cry before letting her head fall onto his shoulder. Feeling him still inside, emptying himself with a few spurts, she rested on top of him. Leaning against his upper body she was panting. As she lied there, catching her breath, she felt the decreasingly quick falling and rising of his chest.
Watching the moon through the small window, she wondered if he would return to his Dark Lord, reeking of sex and mudblood. That thought made her giggle.
"Hermione?" he asked petting her head. His long elegant fingers toyed with her bushy, auburn hair.
"I just had a funny thought," she said giving him a peck.
"Mm? I might take advantage of my position as Governor of Hogwarts and take a look around."
"I might volunteer to give you a tour. Dumbledore might need someone to have an eye on you"
Hermione reluctantly fixed her school uniform. They exchanged one last kiss before standing up. Lucius was holding her hand as he made himself presentable.
"I need to go back," she said.
He pressed a kiss on her knuckles. "Take care of yourself. And have an eye on my boy… please," he added.