Author's Notes: Special note to my friend who was disappointed over the
fact that I didn't let Lucius have his wicked way with Mira. Deee-nied!
Sorry. I never had any intention of letting that come to pass. The point
was more that he would and could but in the end isn't as in control over
his little schemes as he would like to think. Hope the end of this chapter
makes up for it.
I have a very love-hate thing over Lucius Malfoy. From reading the books, I despised his character. He was the epitome of privileged amorality. I mean I utterly loathed his character. Until I went to see the Chamber of Secrets movie and Jason Issacs walked onto the screen in all of his blonde Lucius lusciousness. How on Earth could such an evil bastard be so damn sexy? Thus began my love-hate relationship with his character.
Sexual themes containing mild dominance at the end. Just how "R" is R- rated anyway? Hmmm..
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the movies or books, it doesn't belong to me.
Chapter 59: The Twelfth Day of Christmas
The unlicensed healer had given Narcissa Malfoy a thorough examination, and confirmed that she was indeed pregnant. With the health of mother and embryo confirmed, the healer administered the first of a series of development acceleration potions. With time of the essence, the capabilities of human physiology were pushed to the limit. Each dose of potion would speed up the development of the unborn child by a month's time. Usually prescribed to witches whose babies were coming early, the potion could theoretically be used to shorten pregnancy to mere weeks instead of the usual nine months.
But there was a price. The mother would suffer from prolonged fatigue, and the child would be born physically weak and remain frail throughout its life. Lucius ordered the healer to deliver the potion as frequently as possible without risking the life of mother and child. Once the pregnancy had reached half-term, the ritual required to unite the disembodied spirit of Voldemort with the body of the unborn child could take place. And with that kind of power bound to a corporeal body, physical frailty would be of little consequence.
Lucius sat in his study, thinking of the events he had helped set into motion. If all went as planned, spirit would be united to body in less than two weeks, and the child would be born in little over a month. With continued use of growth acceleration potions, the re-embodiment of the Dark Lord could come of age in less than a year. Within one year's time, the tide could turn and Lucius would be redeemed. With his son at his side, there would be no limit to the level of power he could achieve as second in command to the Dark Lord.
He compiled a mental list of witches and wizards whose support he could count on, and wondered how the surviving Death Eaters would react when they once again felt the burning of the Dark Mark. He laughed to himself, imagining the looks on the faces of those who pretended never to be involved with Voldemort, when they realized he was back.
Thursday morning, Mira woke and pulled open the curtains of the large four- poster bed in her guest suite. She noticed the door between the guest suite and the professor's private chambers was already open, and she could see torchlight flickering on the other side of the passageway. He must have started working very early in the morning. Mira wondered to herself just how much he slept here at Hogwarts. Aside from a couple times at her apartment in New Orleans, she had never fallen asleep after him or awakened before him. Mira knew that he made liberal use of alertness potions, as he was the type who became so involved with work that eating and sleeping were mere distractions from the task at hand. It was something she could not relate to at all.
She quickly got cleaned up and dressed in front of the little bathroom fireplace. Her bruises no longer pained her, but still showed in ugly purple streaks on her upper arms. Her face had healed up nicely though, leaving only a tiny red mark on the edge of her mouth. Prepared for the day, she went to say good morning to Professor Snape. On her way through the guest chambers, she spotted two large parcels from Treadle's sitting on the table in the sitting room with a parchment scroll. She opened the top one and found her fancy dress formal robe and headdress. The scroll from Dumbledore reminded her that the Twelfth Night masquerade ball was to be held that evening at eight o' clock, and she and the professor would be needing their robes.
She took the scroll on through the passageway into the professor's chambers. He was in his laboratory, grinding up something that looked like small oyster shells with a mortar and pestle. He had heard her footsteps as she approached, and didn't bother to look up.
"Good morning, Mira. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep all morning, it's nearly nine o' clock."
"My apologies. I forgot that some of us feel the appropriate time for waking up is a half hour before sunrise."
He smirked as he measured out a handful of the pearly oyster shells onto an old-fashioned counterweight scale. The measure just right, he tipped the shells into the mortar and pushed it towards Mira.
"Do you mind? All you need to do is grind them to powder. I have to check the flame under the large cauldron in the corner."
Mira took the pestle in hand and continued grinding the tiny oyster shells as the professor fussed over the cauldron, increasing the intensity of the flames. The fire just so, he sorted through a shelf of bottles containing various other substances and returned to the workbench.
"Very good. You're doing a better job than many of my students. Except for Miss Granger, of course. "
Mira looked up at him and smiled.
"Of course. Hey, did you forget about the big dance tonight?"
"No, but I had hoped everybody else would have. Why?"
"Oh, time must have gotten away from me because the headmaster had our fancy dress robes sent over from the shop, and I just remembered the dance was tonight when I saw them."
"Hmmm. Well, you already know that it's not exactly something I've been looking forward to. I've been to these events, and they're exceptionally boring. Mostly highborn witches and wizards wearing robes that cost more than the professors here at the school earn in a year's time; pretending to be interested in the school while their true agenda lies in seeing who arrives with the flashiest robes and most expensive jewels."
"Oh come on. You can't stand there and tell me that you're not the slightest bit interested in seeing the sheer spectacle of it?"
The professor shrugged and took the mortar and pestle from Mira, and rubbed some of the powdered shells between his thumb and forefinger, testing the consistency. Satisfied that they were of a fine enough grind, he carried them to the cauldron in the corner, and slowly stirred them in. He returned to the workbench and started absentmindedly wiping the mortar and pestle clean of all traces of the oyster shells.
"Honestly Mira? No. I've seen it all before, and it holds absolutely no attraction to me. Although, with the Malfoys out of the picture, there should be some serious competition to see who will take their place as the new reigning wizarding society couple. That could be interesting, from a spectator's perspective I suppose."
"Well, I guess I'm just not as cynical over it because I've never been to anything like this. I've been to the Mardi Gras balls in New Orleans, which I suppose are the closest muggle equivalent. But, nothing like this in the wizarding world."
"Not even with your cousin? I have heard that her husband mixes in some very highborn circles."
"Oh no. Nothing close. Albert may have business contacts with some of the truly highborn, but in all honesty, they're not even nouveau riche. In American standards, they're upper middle class."
"Hmmm. So, she and Albert won't be at the ball?"
"No way. She was literally green with envy when she found out I had been invited. I honestly thought she was going to have to go throw up. But, knowing her, she'll find a way to exploit my being here for the ball to her benefit. So, what exactly should I expect this evening?"
"Well, there will be a banquet. Like the Christmas feast, but much on a much grander scale. Afterwards, the members of the school governing board will lead a procession from the head table, and the ball will begin."
"And where will we be during all of this?"
"At the head table with the governing board and the rest of the school representatives."
"Oh. I thought we were going to just be part of the crowd with the faculty and other guests."
"No. As the head of Slytherin house, I am expected to attend and sit at the head table as a representative of the school. And if that weren't enough, we are going to be in the procession as well. So, now do you see why I'm not terribly enthusiastic about it? The notion of being displayed and paraded around like a prized pet in front of people who consider me a disgrace to my ancestors is not high on my list of fun things to do."
"So, what happens after the procession?"
"We are part of the group which leads the first dance. I know you're familiar with formal wizarding dance; so you should have no problem managing that part. And then after the first dance, we're expected to mingle and be charming and put on a good show for the benefit of the school."
Professor Snape swept the powder residue off of the workbench with a flick of his wand, and turned to place the mortar and pestle back on the shelf behind him. He checked on the cauldron in the corner, adjusted the flames, and returned to Mira's side.
"Shouldn't you be helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouses?"
"No, she said she wasn't going to be working in them today. I suppose she'll be taking it easy so that she can be rested and ready for the ball."
"Good, you can help me then. Since you have proven yourself more than capable of grinding oyster shells to powder, I think I can entrust you with chopping the ginger root."
He handed her a slab of marble to be used as a cutting surface, a sharp knife, and large piece of peeled ginger root.
"Very small pieces please. In cooking terms, it would be minced."
Mira nodded in understanding and proceeded with her task. As she minced up the ginger, she inhaled the sharp spicy fragrance.
"Is this the same kind of ginger that you cook with?"
"What other kind of ginger would it be?"
"I mean, is it treated with anything? Would it be safe to nibble on?"
"It's safe to eat, but I need most of it for the potion."
Mira sliced a thin sliver of ginger off the root and popped it in her mouth. She thought that she could get used to this side of potions making. Grinding up pearly shells and mincing ginger made for pleasant enough busywork. It was all the slimy bits and foul smelling substances that she could do without.
"So, what exactly are we making here?"
"A variation on the standard wit-sharpening potion. Focusing Formula. I intend to have the house elves lace the students' meals with it when the new term begins so that they'll pay attention in my class."
Mira looked at him with a shocked look on her face.
"You mean, you're gonna spike the kids' food with potion so that they pay attention in class?"
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Mira! You know that Dumbledore would never let me get away with it. Madame Pomfrey has requested it for the first years who are feeling a bit overwhelmed, to help them get through the rest of the year. And for the upper level students who are studying for their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams."
"Aaah, okay. I thought you were serious there for a second."
"I never said that my hand might not slip when carrying a vial of the potion through the kitchens. It's a quick shortcut from the dungeons to the hospital wing, and if I'm in a hurry, well, who knows what could happen?"
Mira laughed and shoved the marble slab with the pile of minced ginger on it towards him.
"You'd do it, too!"
He merely shrugged and added the ginger to the bubbling potion in the cauldron. He cleaned the knife and marble slab, and put them back on the shelf.
"Well, that's it. It has to simmer for a few hours before it can be strained. And then it has to cool a bit before it can be bottled."
He joined Mira at the large stone washbasin, and they washed their hands thoroughly with the harsh soap, which neutralized potions ingredients. Her hands dried, and sleeves rolled back down, Mira turned towards him.
"So, what now?"
"Nothing. That's the only project I have planned for today. We'll need to get ready for the ball after it's bottled."
"So, there's not enough time to start and finish anything else while it simmers?"
The professor chose a large hourglass off of a shelf filled with hourglasses of all shapes and sizes. He upended it next to the cauldron and walked behind Mira. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear.
"Oh, there are plenty of things I can think of that we can start and finish while it simmers."
The professor shut the laboratory door and secured the room with protective wards. He took Mira by the hand and led her past his chambers, through the secret passageway and into the guest suite. After locking the door behind him and casting a security charm on the front door; he took off his coat and tossed it onto the bench at the foot of the bed.
He kicked off his shoes and reclined against the pile of overstuffed pillows at the head of the bed. Mira kicked off her own shoes and untied the draperies from the posts; where they had been secured by the house- elves in her absence. She pulled the curtains closed around the bed and climbed up next to him. He reached out for her, and she playfully slapped his hand away.
"Why don't you lie back and get comfortable."
With a wickedly curious smirk, he rearranged himself against the pillows and leaned back with his hands behind his head, ankles crossed. Mira leaned over him and kissed him softly on the lips. He reached out to embrace her and she took his hands and positioned his arms down at his sides, flat on the bed.
"Just lie back, close your eyes, and relax."
He settled his head down in the nest of pillows and closed his eyes.
"Good. Now don't move."
Mira kissed him again, and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. She reached behind his head, and pulled his hair out from under his shoulders and smoothed it out on the pillow. She reached up, unpinned her hair and tossed the combs down at the foot of the bed. She leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and he turned his cheek towards her warm breath. Changing her mind, she simply brushed her lips across his ear and trailed her hair across his face. He shifted against the bed and uncrossed his ankles. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and untucked it from his trousers. She pushed the shirt open, and watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing. She could tell by the set of his mouth that he was enjoying the game. Anticipating what was to come. Mira bent down and kissed him in the tender spot between his ear and jaw. He inhaled sharply and grabbed her around the waist. She pulled away abruptly.
"Uh uh. Lie back, close your eyes, and don't move."
She took his hands and pushed them back down against his sides and crawled on top of him, straddling his thighs, pinning his hands between her knees and his body. She leaned forward again and kissed him on the throat, feeling as well as hearing the deep rumbling growl of pleasure he released following a deep sigh. His hands tensed beside her knees, and she brushed her cheek and hair across his chest. He shifted his hips and left no question to the level of his desire. Mira giggled to herself and slid farther down his legs, following the tapering path of black hair that led from his chest to his navel with her lips. She kissed the pale flesh beneath his navel, causing him to inhale sharply and clench his hands shut.
She sat back on her heels and slowly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. Mira pulled herself back up his body and kissed him slowly and tenderly. He reached up and slid his hands down her back and pressed his body against hers. She pulled away and kneeled up above him.
"Put your hands back at your sides or the game's over and I'll grab my shoes and go see if Sprout can use my help."
With a frustrated growl, he put his hands back down at his side.
"That's better. Now, just lie back and enjoy it."
She slowly teased her way back down his body with her lips and didn't stop at his navel. His whole body tensed and he rubbed his palms against the soft bedcovers, losing himself in the velvet waves of pleasure. Mira felt his breathing get shallower and she reached up and raked her fingernails down his chest. He gasped and grabbed her head, twining his fingers in her hair. She pushed his hands away and leaned back on her heels. He looked up at her with a glazed look in his eyes.
"For the love of Merlin, woman! Why the hell did you stop?"
"Because you didn't play by the rules. You moved your hands."
He stared at her with a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"Relax. I have no intentions of leaving you high and dry, so to speak. Now just lie back, close your eyes and be still."
He threw his head back onto the pillow and clenched his fists at his side, betraying the tension and anticipation he was feeling at that moment.
"That's better."
Mira pulled her robe off over her head and tossed it at the foot of the bed. She undid her bra and shimmied out of her underwear, tossing them onto the top of the pile of clothes. Undressed, she turned her attention back to the professor. She pushed his trousers down to his knees and stretched herself up against his body.
"Are you ready for more?"
He shook his head. She arranged herself atop him and began to make love to him slowly, almost too slowly. It took a great deal of will for her to control herself and drag it out as long as possible. Eventually she was overcome by desire herself, and let go of all restraint. She looked down at her side and saw him fighting to keep his hands off of her and tensing his entire body trying to remain as still as possible. She laughed to herself over just how far he had gone with the game.
The tension exploded in a climax so intense as to leave him panting for air. Mira stretched out beside him and whispered in his ear.
"You can move your hands now."
He pulled her close and held her until his breathing returned to normal. They lay together for some time, until Mira fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.
I have a very love-hate thing over Lucius Malfoy. From reading the books, I despised his character. He was the epitome of privileged amorality. I mean I utterly loathed his character. Until I went to see the Chamber of Secrets movie and Jason Issacs walked onto the screen in all of his blonde Lucius lusciousness. How on Earth could such an evil bastard be so damn sexy? Thus began my love-hate relationship with his character.
Sexual themes containing mild dominance at the end. Just how "R" is R- rated anyway? Hmmm..
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the movies or books, it doesn't belong to me.
Chapter 59: The Twelfth Day of Christmas
The unlicensed healer had given Narcissa Malfoy a thorough examination, and confirmed that she was indeed pregnant. With the health of mother and embryo confirmed, the healer administered the first of a series of development acceleration potions. With time of the essence, the capabilities of human physiology were pushed to the limit. Each dose of potion would speed up the development of the unborn child by a month's time. Usually prescribed to witches whose babies were coming early, the potion could theoretically be used to shorten pregnancy to mere weeks instead of the usual nine months.
But there was a price. The mother would suffer from prolonged fatigue, and the child would be born physically weak and remain frail throughout its life. Lucius ordered the healer to deliver the potion as frequently as possible without risking the life of mother and child. Once the pregnancy had reached half-term, the ritual required to unite the disembodied spirit of Voldemort with the body of the unborn child could take place. And with that kind of power bound to a corporeal body, physical frailty would be of little consequence.
Lucius sat in his study, thinking of the events he had helped set into motion. If all went as planned, spirit would be united to body in less than two weeks, and the child would be born in little over a month. With continued use of growth acceleration potions, the re-embodiment of the Dark Lord could come of age in less than a year. Within one year's time, the tide could turn and Lucius would be redeemed. With his son at his side, there would be no limit to the level of power he could achieve as second in command to the Dark Lord.
He compiled a mental list of witches and wizards whose support he could count on, and wondered how the surviving Death Eaters would react when they once again felt the burning of the Dark Mark. He laughed to himself, imagining the looks on the faces of those who pretended never to be involved with Voldemort, when they realized he was back.
Thursday morning, Mira woke and pulled open the curtains of the large four- poster bed in her guest suite. She noticed the door between the guest suite and the professor's private chambers was already open, and she could see torchlight flickering on the other side of the passageway. He must have started working very early in the morning. Mira wondered to herself just how much he slept here at Hogwarts. Aside from a couple times at her apartment in New Orleans, she had never fallen asleep after him or awakened before him. Mira knew that he made liberal use of alertness potions, as he was the type who became so involved with work that eating and sleeping were mere distractions from the task at hand. It was something she could not relate to at all.
She quickly got cleaned up and dressed in front of the little bathroom fireplace. Her bruises no longer pained her, but still showed in ugly purple streaks on her upper arms. Her face had healed up nicely though, leaving only a tiny red mark on the edge of her mouth. Prepared for the day, she went to say good morning to Professor Snape. On her way through the guest chambers, she spotted two large parcels from Treadle's sitting on the table in the sitting room with a parchment scroll. She opened the top one and found her fancy dress formal robe and headdress. The scroll from Dumbledore reminded her that the Twelfth Night masquerade ball was to be held that evening at eight o' clock, and she and the professor would be needing their robes.
She took the scroll on through the passageway into the professor's chambers. He was in his laboratory, grinding up something that looked like small oyster shells with a mortar and pestle. He had heard her footsteps as she approached, and didn't bother to look up.
"Good morning, Mira. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep all morning, it's nearly nine o' clock."
"My apologies. I forgot that some of us feel the appropriate time for waking up is a half hour before sunrise."
He smirked as he measured out a handful of the pearly oyster shells onto an old-fashioned counterweight scale. The measure just right, he tipped the shells into the mortar and pushed it towards Mira.
"Do you mind? All you need to do is grind them to powder. I have to check the flame under the large cauldron in the corner."
Mira took the pestle in hand and continued grinding the tiny oyster shells as the professor fussed over the cauldron, increasing the intensity of the flames. The fire just so, he sorted through a shelf of bottles containing various other substances and returned to the workbench.
"Very good. You're doing a better job than many of my students. Except for Miss Granger, of course. "
Mira looked up at him and smiled.
"Of course. Hey, did you forget about the big dance tonight?"
"No, but I had hoped everybody else would have. Why?"
"Oh, time must have gotten away from me because the headmaster had our fancy dress robes sent over from the shop, and I just remembered the dance was tonight when I saw them."
"Hmmm. Well, you already know that it's not exactly something I've been looking forward to. I've been to these events, and they're exceptionally boring. Mostly highborn witches and wizards wearing robes that cost more than the professors here at the school earn in a year's time; pretending to be interested in the school while their true agenda lies in seeing who arrives with the flashiest robes and most expensive jewels."
"Oh come on. You can't stand there and tell me that you're not the slightest bit interested in seeing the sheer spectacle of it?"
The professor shrugged and took the mortar and pestle from Mira, and rubbed some of the powdered shells between his thumb and forefinger, testing the consistency. Satisfied that they were of a fine enough grind, he carried them to the cauldron in the corner, and slowly stirred them in. He returned to the workbench and started absentmindedly wiping the mortar and pestle clean of all traces of the oyster shells.
"Honestly Mira? No. I've seen it all before, and it holds absolutely no attraction to me. Although, with the Malfoys out of the picture, there should be some serious competition to see who will take their place as the new reigning wizarding society couple. That could be interesting, from a spectator's perspective I suppose."
"Well, I guess I'm just not as cynical over it because I've never been to anything like this. I've been to the Mardi Gras balls in New Orleans, which I suppose are the closest muggle equivalent. But, nothing like this in the wizarding world."
"Not even with your cousin? I have heard that her husband mixes in some very highborn circles."
"Oh no. Nothing close. Albert may have business contacts with some of the truly highborn, but in all honesty, they're not even nouveau riche. In American standards, they're upper middle class."
"Hmmm. So, she and Albert won't be at the ball?"
"No way. She was literally green with envy when she found out I had been invited. I honestly thought she was going to have to go throw up. But, knowing her, she'll find a way to exploit my being here for the ball to her benefit. So, what exactly should I expect this evening?"
"Well, there will be a banquet. Like the Christmas feast, but much on a much grander scale. Afterwards, the members of the school governing board will lead a procession from the head table, and the ball will begin."
"And where will we be during all of this?"
"At the head table with the governing board and the rest of the school representatives."
"Oh. I thought we were going to just be part of the crowd with the faculty and other guests."
"No. As the head of Slytherin house, I am expected to attend and sit at the head table as a representative of the school. And if that weren't enough, we are going to be in the procession as well. So, now do you see why I'm not terribly enthusiastic about it? The notion of being displayed and paraded around like a prized pet in front of people who consider me a disgrace to my ancestors is not high on my list of fun things to do."
"So, what happens after the procession?"
"We are part of the group which leads the first dance. I know you're familiar with formal wizarding dance; so you should have no problem managing that part. And then after the first dance, we're expected to mingle and be charming and put on a good show for the benefit of the school."
Professor Snape swept the powder residue off of the workbench with a flick of his wand, and turned to place the mortar and pestle back on the shelf behind him. He checked on the cauldron in the corner, adjusted the flames, and returned to Mira's side.
"Shouldn't you be helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouses?"
"No, she said she wasn't going to be working in them today. I suppose she'll be taking it easy so that she can be rested and ready for the ball."
"Good, you can help me then. Since you have proven yourself more than capable of grinding oyster shells to powder, I think I can entrust you with chopping the ginger root."
He handed her a slab of marble to be used as a cutting surface, a sharp knife, and large piece of peeled ginger root.
"Very small pieces please. In cooking terms, it would be minced."
Mira nodded in understanding and proceeded with her task. As she minced up the ginger, she inhaled the sharp spicy fragrance.
"Is this the same kind of ginger that you cook with?"
"What other kind of ginger would it be?"
"I mean, is it treated with anything? Would it be safe to nibble on?"
"It's safe to eat, but I need most of it for the potion."
Mira sliced a thin sliver of ginger off the root and popped it in her mouth. She thought that she could get used to this side of potions making. Grinding up pearly shells and mincing ginger made for pleasant enough busywork. It was all the slimy bits and foul smelling substances that she could do without.
"So, what exactly are we making here?"
"A variation on the standard wit-sharpening potion. Focusing Formula. I intend to have the house elves lace the students' meals with it when the new term begins so that they'll pay attention in my class."
Mira looked at him with a shocked look on her face.
"You mean, you're gonna spike the kids' food with potion so that they pay attention in class?"
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Mira! You know that Dumbledore would never let me get away with it. Madame Pomfrey has requested it for the first years who are feeling a bit overwhelmed, to help them get through the rest of the year. And for the upper level students who are studying for their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams."
"Aaah, okay. I thought you were serious there for a second."
"I never said that my hand might not slip when carrying a vial of the potion through the kitchens. It's a quick shortcut from the dungeons to the hospital wing, and if I'm in a hurry, well, who knows what could happen?"
Mira laughed and shoved the marble slab with the pile of minced ginger on it towards him.
"You'd do it, too!"
He merely shrugged and added the ginger to the bubbling potion in the cauldron. He cleaned the knife and marble slab, and put them back on the shelf.
"Well, that's it. It has to simmer for a few hours before it can be strained. And then it has to cool a bit before it can be bottled."
He joined Mira at the large stone washbasin, and they washed their hands thoroughly with the harsh soap, which neutralized potions ingredients. Her hands dried, and sleeves rolled back down, Mira turned towards him.
"So, what now?"
"Nothing. That's the only project I have planned for today. We'll need to get ready for the ball after it's bottled."
"So, there's not enough time to start and finish anything else while it simmers?"
The professor chose a large hourglass off of a shelf filled with hourglasses of all shapes and sizes. He upended it next to the cauldron and walked behind Mira. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear.
"Oh, there are plenty of things I can think of that we can start and finish while it simmers."
The professor shut the laboratory door and secured the room with protective wards. He took Mira by the hand and led her past his chambers, through the secret passageway and into the guest suite. After locking the door behind him and casting a security charm on the front door; he took off his coat and tossed it onto the bench at the foot of the bed.
He kicked off his shoes and reclined against the pile of overstuffed pillows at the head of the bed. Mira kicked off her own shoes and untied the draperies from the posts; where they had been secured by the house- elves in her absence. She pulled the curtains closed around the bed and climbed up next to him. He reached out for her, and she playfully slapped his hand away.
"Why don't you lie back and get comfortable."
With a wickedly curious smirk, he rearranged himself against the pillows and leaned back with his hands behind his head, ankles crossed. Mira leaned over him and kissed him softly on the lips. He reached out to embrace her and she took his hands and positioned his arms down at his sides, flat on the bed.
"Just lie back, close your eyes, and relax."
He settled his head down in the nest of pillows and closed his eyes.
"Good. Now don't move."
Mira kissed him again, and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. She reached behind his head, and pulled his hair out from under his shoulders and smoothed it out on the pillow. She reached up, unpinned her hair and tossed the combs down at the foot of the bed. She leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and he turned his cheek towards her warm breath. Changing her mind, she simply brushed her lips across his ear and trailed her hair across his face. He shifted against the bed and uncrossed his ankles. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and untucked it from his trousers. She pushed the shirt open, and watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing. She could tell by the set of his mouth that he was enjoying the game. Anticipating what was to come. Mira bent down and kissed him in the tender spot between his ear and jaw. He inhaled sharply and grabbed her around the waist. She pulled away abruptly.
"Uh uh. Lie back, close your eyes, and don't move."
She took his hands and pushed them back down against his sides and crawled on top of him, straddling his thighs, pinning his hands between her knees and his body. She leaned forward again and kissed him on the throat, feeling as well as hearing the deep rumbling growl of pleasure he released following a deep sigh. His hands tensed beside her knees, and she brushed her cheek and hair across his chest. He shifted his hips and left no question to the level of his desire. Mira giggled to herself and slid farther down his legs, following the tapering path of black hair that led from his chest to his navel with her lips. She kissed the pale flesh beneath his navel, causing him to inhale sharply and clench his hands shut.
She sat back on her heels and slowly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. Mira pulled herself back up his body and kissed him slowly and tenderly. He reached up and slid his hands down her back and pressed his body against hers. She pulled away and kneeled up above him.
"Put your hands back at your sides or the game's over and I'll grab my shoes and go see if Sprout can use my help."
With a frustrated growl, he put his hands back down at his side.
"That's better. Now, just lie back and enjoy it."
She slowly teased her way back down his body with her lips and didn't stop at his navel. His whole body tensed and he rubbed his palms against the soft bedcovers, losing himself in the velvet waves of pleasure. Mira felt his breathing get shallower and she reached up and raked her fingernails down his chest. He gasped and grabbed her head, twining his fingers in her hair. She pushed his hands away and leaned back on her heels. He looked up at her with a glazed look in his eyes.
"For the love of Merlin, woman! Why the hell did you stop?"
"Because you didn't play by the rules. You moved your hands."
He stared at her with a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"Relax. I have no intentions of leaving you high and dry, so to speak. Now just lie back, close your eyes and be still."
He threw his head back onto the pillow and clenched his fists at his side, betraying the tension and anticipation he was feeling at that moment.
"That's better."
Mira pulled her robe off over her head and tossed it at the foot of the bed. She undid her bra and shimmied out of her underwear, tossing them onto the top of the pile of clothes. Undressed, she turned her attention back to the professor. She pushed his trousers down to his knees and stretched herself up against his body.
"Are you ready for more?"
He shook his head. She arranged herself atop him and began to make love to him slowly, almost too slowly. It took a great deal of will for her to control herself and drag it out as long as possible. Eventually she was overcome by desire herself, and let go of all restraint. She looked down at her side and saw him fighting to keep his hands off of her and tensing his entire body trying to remain as still as possible. She laughed to herself over just how far he had gone with the game.
The tension exploded in a climax so intense as to leave him panting for air. Mira stretched out beside him and whispered in his ear.
"You can move your hands now."
He pulled her close and held her until his breathing returned to normal. They lay together for some time, until Mira fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.