Disclaimer: I own nothing, so don't sue me. You wouldn't get anything
anyway. I'm broke.
A/N: This chapter is a flashback type thing. Just thought I'd warn you.
I had been surprised, as I stood in line to get into the muggle club, to see him standing in front of me. At first I hadn't thought it was him, but when he turned – presumably because I had accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him – my original deductions were confirmed.
He had seemed equally surprised to see me, but once he got over his initial shock, he seemed pleased to see me. I figured at the time that it was more to do with my appearance, than anything.
I had dressed carefully that evening, pulling on the clothes I had worked so hard to be able to afford. The too-short leather skirt, fishnet stockings, leather boots, and leather bustier all showed off my figure, and his eyes had roamed my body appraisingly as we both stood in line.
He had smirked, I had grinned, and when I spotted him again inside the club, he had purchased a drink for me and himself. I followed him through the club towards a secluded couch near the back that was hidden partially behind a gauzy wall of fabric. He pushed through the curtains, and I followed suit, wondering all the time how he had known about this place.
He had seated himself on the white leather couch, and I watched him for a moment, a little unsure of myself. My gaze traveled over his body, which I noticed for the first time to be quite built; he, like me, was usually hidden beneath the tent-like robes that were the uniform at Hogwarts. He was wearing all black, like me, though his clothes were accented with silver at the hems, while mine were accented with black ribbons to contrast the leather.
A mirror hung on the wall behind the couch he was sitting on, and I cast an absent glance in it, taking in once again the dramatic makeup and hairstyle that had taken me hours to perfect.
He offered me one of the drinks, and I sat beside him on the couch, taking the proffered glass. Inside the snifter was an amber liquid; brandy. He watched as I sniffed the pungent aroma before downing the elixir in one gulp. He was surprised, and downed his own drink – not one to be shown up by a girl. His face screwed up as the liquor slid down his throat, and I had laughed.
He kept buying drinks, more for me than for himself, and I kept drinking them. About an hour into the evening, I was feeling quite relaxed, and had settled myself on his lap, my back to his chest, resting my head back on his shoulder.
"Having fun?" He asked, tracing a small pattern on my thigh with one long, pale finger.
"Lots of fun," I replied, wriggling slightly on his lap.
I felt his lips on my neck, and knew that I was about to have a lot more fun. He bit my neck softly, leaving tiny marks on my exposed flesh, and I sighed contentedly. I thought for a moment, before I turned on his lap so I was straddling him, my skirt riding up my thighs. He groaned, and caught my lips in a searing kiss, his hands grasping my rear as I ground my hips into his.
His velvet tongue passed across my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to allow him the entry he asked for. My hands ran up over his chest and the back of his neck to tangle in his silky blonde hair, as he deepened the kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip.
After a moment, he pulled back, causing a small moan of disappointment on my part. His breathing was slightly ragged, and my own was rather faster than usual.
"Liked that, did you?" He asked smugly, silver-gray eyes glittering with amusement.
"You didn't seem so disappointed with it yourself," I retorted, grinding my hips against his once more. I was rewarded for my efforts with a groan from him.
"You are such a tease," he taunted.
"You don't seem to mind," I returned, running my hands over his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
"Shut up."
"There's only one way you'll be able to shut me up," I replied suggestively, and soon found my lips caught once more by his.
He kissed me harder, enough so that my lips bruised, and I kissed him back just as roughly, once again tangling my hands in his hair. His lips released mine, after a few tense moments of trying to see who would get the upper hand in the situation, and I purred like a kitten when his teeth grazed my neck.
Releasing me again, he gently pushed me off his lap. Pouting, I watched him leave our little alcove, and wondered vaguely if he had tired of me already. I was just about to go in search of him, when he returned with a bottle of brandy and dropped beside me on the couch.
He opened the bottle, and handed it to me, watching me intently with those beautiful silver eyes. I placed the bottle to my lips, and took a long, slow drink, letting the liquid slide down my throat. I handed the bottle back to him, and he placed it on a small table beside the couch.
I slunk back onto his lap, straddling him again, and he smirked. I caught his lips this time, and we remained that way for a while, quite content with our positions, the bottle of brandy sitting forgotten on the table. After a moment, I picked up the bottle, and took another long drink, by then feeling quite relaxed and not having a care in the world.
When he released my lips again, some thirty minutes later, I moaned and bit his neck softly, my canines leaving four small indentations on the side of his neck. He started to stand, so I ceased my toying with his smooth skin, and slithered from his lap again, pouting.
I was about to ask him what was wrong, when he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the alcove. I followed, curious, and soon found myself outside the club. He continued to pull me along, stopping occasionally to peck me on the cheek or the lips. When we reached a corner of the street, we crossed to the other side, where we stood for a moment before a cab came trolling by. He hailed the black vehicle, and we climbed inside, where he told the cabby an address.
Some twenty minutes later, the cab pulled to a stop outside a large and beautiful looking house, and he slipped out of the back seat before helping me out. We climbed the front steps, and he pushed open the large mahogany doors, guiding me into a dark and deserted entryway.
I stumbled, catching the heel of my boot on the edge of a rug, and he caught me. Giggling, I tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he scooped me up, my head hanging over his shoulder, and carried me through the house.
He took me to a room in the west wing of the house, and I gasped at the sight. It was all black marble and mahogany, with silk curtains and bed sheets in hues of deep green and silver. He carried me directly to the bed, and dropped me on the soft mattress.
I giggled, and he pounced on me, like a cat on a mouse, and ravaged my mouth. My hands went to the buttons on his shirt, and I undid the top one, and the next one, and the one after that, until at last I was able to pull the black garment from his shoulders.
His chest was beautifully pale and perfectly defined, and a moan of longing escaped my lips at the sight of it.
His own hands were busy with the ribbon on the leather bustier that covered my chest, unlacing it slowly and teasingly. I wanted to help him, to get the thing off faster, but knew he was doing it more to make me writhe. He was doing a good job.
At last, he pulled the ribbon from the front, and the leather fell away from my chest to reveal a strapless, lacy crimson bra covering my breasts. He groaned at the sight, and his fingers moved down to the clasp on my skirt, eager to remove that as well.
He got the skirt off quickly, and my boots and my stockings soon followed it, until I lay on his bed in nothing but my scarlet underwear. He stood, and I relaxed on the bed as his gaze traveled hungrily over my nearly naked body.
A wicked smile crept across his face, and he crossed to the desk sitting in the corner of the room. He rummaged around in one of the drawers, and turned around a moment later with a small black camera in his hand.
I watched as he approached, flicking a few dials on the camera, and came to stand beside the bed, looking down at me. He raised the camera to his eye, and a sly smile played on my lips. A flash of light, and he lowered the camera.
I sat up, and he took another picture. I crawled to the back of the bed, and a flash behind me told me he had taken another picture. Dropping into the mound of pillows at the head of the bed, I watched intently as he walked to the foot of the bed and snapped another picture before returning the camera to his desk.
He climbed onto the bed, and when he reached me, my hands drifted down to his trousers, where I could feel through the fabric a hard bulge. He groaned, as I ran my hand over his groin, and his hands slid under my back, his fingers deftly unhooking the clasp of my bra. His pants went next, soon followed by my underwear and his boxers.
*****
I awoke some time later to the soft sound of breathing beside my ear. His arm was thrown across my chest, holding me tight to him in a possessive manner. I reached down and grabbed his hand, kissing his fingers to wake him.
He woke slowly, eyes peering at me groggily, and I smiled contentedly. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, before rolling onto his back. I slid closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped one arm around my shoulders.
"What time is it?" I asked sleepily, stifling a yawn.
"Half two," he replied, brushing his thumb over my lips.
"Mmm, I still have a couple hours," I murmured, snuggling deeper into the blankets.
"Then I guess we should make the best of them," He replied, kissing my forehead.
"We should. But I'm thirsty, d'you have anything to drink in this place?"
He laughed, and sat up, letting me drop back to the pillows. He climbed out of bed, not bothering to cover himself, and went to a wardrobe on the far wall of the room. After rummaging around in the wardrobe for a moment, he withdrew a large bottle of clear liquid that I recognized as vodka.
Returning to the bed, he offered me the bottle, and I took a short drink of the fiery fluid, wincing as it slid down my throat.
He laughed, and leant back on the headboard. I followed suit, taking another draught from the bottle of vodka.
"Like it?" He asked, raising a regal brow.
"Delicious," I replied, downing more of the clear elixir.
By now, I was feeling rather tipsy, and leant into his shoulder, giggling like mad.
"I think you've had enough for the moment," he said tauntingly, taking the bottle from my hand.
I watched him place the bottle – whose contents were now considerably less than they had been when I started – on the side table. Wanting more, I tried to clamber over him, towards the nightstand, but was restrained by his arm around my waist. I started to whine, but was cut off by his lips on mine, and soon found myself beneath him, his lips torturing my neck.
*****
Again, I woke to his breath by my ear, and shivered in delight. Feeling rather giddy still, I prodded him in the stomach, and he groaned and opened his eyes.
"Vodka?" I asked, looking pointedly at the half-empty bottle standing innocently on the side table.
He grinned, and handed me the bottle, watching as I took short sip after short sip, significantly reducing the amount of alcohol in the clear glass container.
"What's the time?" I inquired after a moment, licking my lips.
"Half four," He answered, glancing at his clock.
"Oh, shit."
"Problem?"
"Should have been home..."
"Missed curfew?" He helped, as I stumbled for the words that wouldn't come to my intoxicated brain.
I nodded dumbly, and he sighed.
"I suppose we'd better get you home then," he said after a moment in which neither of us did anything.
Again, I nodded dumbly, and he crawled out of bed, to begin the hunt for my clothes after dressing himself. Soon enough, he had found them, and was helping me get my stockings on when I swayed on my feet and collapsed on the bed.
"Th-that was f-f-fun," I giggled, standing once more and leaning on his shoulder for support. He smirked, and started to pull one of my boots on. I watched him struggle with the stiff new leather, and giggled again at the sight. At last, I was dressed, and he helped me to stand.
I wobbled down the hall, leaning heavily on his shoulder the entire way. We reached the front door, and he helped me down the stairs, carefully sitting me on the bottom step while he went to get a car. It took a few moments, but soon I heard the rumble of the engine, and the headlights were shining in my eyes.
I squinted in the light, and was startled when he was standing in front of me, helping me to stand. Then I was in the car, moving down the road at a speed that, in my state of mind, was alarmingly fast. Somewhere during the drive, I passed into a daze, and was hardly able to walk when we reached the Burrow.
So he helped me once again, practically carrying me to my front door – indeed, he did carry me when we reached the walkway, as my legs buckled beneath me. As I was unable to open the door myself, he knocked softly on the door with his foot, his arms being rather full.
To his surprise, the door creaked open. Standing on the other side was a bleary-eyed Ron who looked quite terrified, a hyperventilating Hermione Granger, and a shocked and furious looking Harry Potter.
They stared at us stupidly for a moment, recognizing me but not who I was with. And then, three voices all at once:
"MALFOY?!"
A/N: This chapter is a flashback type thing. Just thought I'd warn you.
I had been surprised, as I stood in line to get into the muggle club, to see him standing in front of me. At first I hadn't thought it was him, but when he turned – presumably because I had accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him – my original deductions were confirmed.
He had seemed equally surprised to see me, but once he got over his initial shock, he seemed pleased to see me. I figured at the time that it was more to do with my appearance, than anything.
I had dressed carefully that evening, pulling on the clothes I had worked so hard to be able to afford. The too-short leather skirt, fishnet stockings, leather boots, and leather bustier all showed off my figure, and his eyes had roamed my body appraisingly as we both stood in line.
He had smirked, I had grinned, and when I spotted him again inside the club, he had purchased a drink for me and himself. I followed him through the club towards a secluded couch near the back that was hidden partially behind a gauzy wall of fabric. He pushed through the curtains, and I followed suit, wondering all the time how he had known about this place.
He had seated himself on the white leather couch, and I watched him for a moment, a little unsure of myself. My gaze traveled over his body, which I noticed for the first time to be quite built; he, like me, was usually hidden beneath the tent-like robes that were the uniform at Hogwarts. He was wearing all black, like me, though his clothes were accented with silver at the hems, while mine were accented with black ribbons to contrast the leather.
A mirror hung on the wall behind the couch he was sitting on, and I cast an absent glance in it, taking in once again the dramatic makeup and hairstyle that had taken me hours to perfect.
He offered me one of the drinks, and I sat beside him on the couch, taking the proffered glass. Inside the snifter was an amber liquid; brandy. He watched as I sniffed the pungent aroma before downing the elixir in one gulp. He was surprised, and downed his own drink – not one to be shown up by a girl. His face screwed up as the liquor slid down his throat, and I had laughed.
He kept buying drinks, more for me than for himself, and I kept drinking them. About an hour into the evening, I was feeling quite relaxed, and had settled myself on his lap, my back to his chest, resting my head back on his shoulder.
"Having fun?" He asked, tracing a small pattern on my thigh with one long, pale finger.
"Lots of fun," I replied, wriggling slightly on his lap.
I felt his lips on my neck, and knew that I was about to have a lot more fun. He bit my neck softly, leaving tiny marks on my exposed flesh, and I sighed contentedly. I thought for a moment, before I turned on his lap so I was straddling him, my skirt riding up my thighs. He groaned, and caught my lips in a searing kiss, his hands grasping my rear as I ground my hips into his.
His velvet tongue passed across my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to allow him the entry he asked for. My hands ran up over his chest and the back of his neck to tangle in his silky blonde hair, as he deepened the kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip.
After a moment, he pulled back, causing a small moan of disappointment on my part. His breathing was slightly ragged, and my own was rather faster than usual.
"Liked that, did you?" He asked smugly, silver-gray eyes glittering with amusement.
"You didn't seem so disappointed with it yourself," I retorted, grinding my hips against his once more. I was rewarded for my efforts with a groan from him.
"You are such a tease," he taunted.
"You don't seem to mind," I returned, running my hands over his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
"Shut up."
"There's only one way you'll be able to shut me up," I replied suggestively, and soon found my lips caught once more by his.
He kissed me harder, enough so that my lips bruised, and I kissed him back just as roughly, once again tangling my hands in his hair. His lips released mine, after a few tense moments of trying to see who would get the upper hand in the situation, and I purred like a kitten when his teeth grazed my neck.
Releasing me again, he gently pushed me off his lap. Pouting, I watched him leave our little alcove, and wondered vaguely if he had tired of me already. I was just about to go in search of him, when he returned with a bottle of brandy and dropped beside me on the couch.
He opened the bottle, and handed it to me, watching me intently with those beautiful silver eyes. I placed the bottle to my lips, and took a long, slow drink, letting the liquid slide down my throat. I handed the bottle back to him, and he placed it on a small table beside the couch.
I slunk back onto his lap, straddling him again, and he smirked. I caught his lips this time, and we remained that way for a while, quite content with our positions, the bottle of brandy sitting forgotten on the table. After a moment, I picked up the bottle, and took another long drink, by then feeling quite relaxed and not having a care in the world.
When he released my lips again, some thirty minutes later, I moaned and bit his neck softly, my canines leaving four small indentations on the side of his neck. He started to stand, so I ceased my toying with his smooth skin, and slithered from his lap again, pouting.
I was about to ask him what was wrong, when he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the alcove. I followed, curious, and soon found myself outside the club. He continued to pull me along, stopping occasionally to peck me on the cheek or the lips. When we reached a corner of the street, we crossed to the other side, where we stood for a moment before a cab came trolling by. He hailed the black vehicle, and we climbed inside, where he told the cabby an address.
Some twenty minutes later, the cab pulled to a stop outside a large and beautiful looking house, and he slipped out of the back seat before helping me out. We climbed the front steps, and he pushed open the large mahogany doors, guiding me into a dark and deserted entryway.
I stumbled, catching the heel of my boot on the edge of a rug, and he caught me. Giggling, I tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he scooped me up, my head hanging over his shoulder, and carried me through the house.
He took me to a room in the west wing of the house, and I gasped at the sight. It was all black marble and mahogany, with silk curtains and bed sheets in hues of deep green and silver. He carried me directly to the bed, and dropped me on the soft mattress.
I giggled, and he pounced on me, like a cat on a mouse, and ravaged my mouth. My hands went to the buttons on his shirt, and I undid the top one, and the next one, and the one after that, until at last I was able to pull the black garment from his shoulders.
His chest was beautifully pale and perfectly defined, and a moan of longing escaped my lips at the sight of it.
His own hands were busy with the ribbon on the leather bustier that covered my chest, unlacing it slowly and teasingly. I wanted to help him, to get the thing off faster, but knew he was doing it more to make me writhe. He was doing a good job.
At last, he pulled the ribbon from the front, and the leather fell away from my chest to reveal a strapless, lacy crimson bra covering my breasts. He groaned at the sight, and his fingers moved down to the clasp on my skirt, eager to remove that as well.
He got the skirt off quickly, and my boots and my stockings soon followed it, until I lay on his bed in nothing but my scarlet underwear. He stood, and I relaxed on the bed as his gaze traveled hungrily over my nearly naked body.
A wicked smile crept across his face, and he crossed to the desk sitting in the corner of the room. He rummaged around in one of the drawers, and turned around a moment later with a small black camera in his hand.
I watched as he approached, flicking a few dials on the camera, and came to stand beside the bed, looking down at me. He raised the camera to his eye, and a sly smile played on my lips. A flash of light, and he lowered the camera.
I sat up, and he took another picture. I crawled to the back of the bed, and a flash behind me told me he had taken another picture. Dropping into the mound of pillows at the head of the bed, I watched intently as he walked to the foot of the bed and snapped another picture before returning the camera to his desk.
He climbed onto the bed, and when he reached me, my hands drifted down to his trousers, where I could feel through the fabric a hard bulge. He groaned, as I ran my hand over his groin, and his hands slid under my back, his fingers deftly unhooking the clasp of my bra. His pants went next, soon followed by my underwear and his boxers.
*****
I awoke some time later to the soft sound of breathing beside my ear. His arm was thrown across my chest, holding me tight to him in a possessive manner. I reached down and grabbed his hand, kissing his fingers to wake him.
He woke slowly, eyes peering at me groggily, and I smiled contentedly. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, before rolling onto his back. I slid closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped one arm around my shoulders.
"What time is it?" I asked sleepily, stifling a yawn.
"Half two," he replied, brushing his thumb over my lips.
"Mmm, I still have a couple hours," I murmured, snuggling deeper into the blankets.
"Then I guess we should make the best of them," He replied, kissing my forehead.
"We should. But I'm thirsty, d'you have anything to drink in this place?"
He laughed, and sat up, letting me drop back to the pillows. He climbed out of bed, not bothering to cover himself, and went to a wardrobe on the far wall of the room. After rummaging around in the wardrobe for a moment, he withdrew a large bottle of clear liquid that I recognized as vodka.
Returning to the bed, he offered me the bottle, and I took a short drink of the fiery fluid, wincing as it slid down my throat.
He laughed, and leant back on the headboard. I followed suit, taking another draught from the bottle of vodka.
"Like it?" He asked, raising a regal brow.
"Delicious," I replied, downing more of the clear elixir.
By now, I was feeling rather tipsy, and leant into his shoulder, giggling like mad.
"I think you've had enough for the moment," he said tauntingly, taking the bottle from my hand.
I watched him place the bottle – whose contents were now considerably less than they had been when I started – on the side table. Wanting more, I tried to clamber over him, towards the nightstand, but was restrained by his arm around my waist. I started to whine, but was cut off by his lips on mine, and soon found myself beneath him, his lips torturing my neck.
*****
Again, I woke to his breath by my ear, and shivered in delight. Feeling rather giddy still, I prodded him in the stomach, and he groaned and opened his eyes.
"Vodka?" I asked, looking pointedly at the half-empty bottle standing innocently on the side table.
He grinned, and handed me the bottle, watching as I took short sip after short sip, significantly reducing the amount of alcohol in the clear glass container.
"What's the time?" I inquired after a moment, licking my lips.
"Half four," He answered, glancing at his clock.
"Oh, shit."
"Problem?"
"Should have been home..."
"Missed curfew?" He helped, as I stumbled for the words that wouldn't come to my intoxicated brain.
I nodded dumbly, and he sighed.
"I suppose we'd better get you home then," he said after a moment in which neither of us did anything.
Again, I nodded dumbly, and he crawled out of bed, to begin the hunt for my clothes after dressing himself. Soon enough, he had found them, and was helping me get my stockings on when I swayed on my feet and collapsed on the bed.
"Th-that was f-f-fun," I giggled, standing once more and leaning on his shoulder for support. He smirked, and started to pull one of my boots on. I watched him struggle with the stiff new leather, and giggled again at the sight. At last, I was dressed, and he helped me to stand.
I wobbled down the hall, leaning heavily on his shoulder the entire way. We reached the front door, and he helped me down the stairs, carefully sitting me on the bottom step while he went to get a car. It took a few moments, but soon I heard the rumble of the engine, and the headlights were shining in my eyes.
I squinted in the light, and was startled when he was standing in front of me, helping me to stand. Then I was in the car, moving down the road at a speed that, in my state of mind, was alarmingly fast. Somewhere during the drive, I passed into a daze, and was hardly able to walk when we reached the Burrow.
So he helped me once again, practically carrying me to my front door – indeed, he did carry me when we reached the walkway, as my legs buckled beneath me. As I was unable to open the door myself, he knocked softly on the door with his foot, his arms being rather full.
To his surprise, the door creaked open. Standing on the other side was a bleary-eyed Ron who looked quite terrified, a hyperventilating Hermione Granger, and a shocked and furious looking Harry Potter.
They stared at us stupidly for a moment, recognizing me but not who I was with. And then, three voices all at once:
"MALFOY?!"