The Summoner
"Oh, my friend, it's not what they take away from you that counts. It's what you do with what you have left."(William Cowper. The Retired Cat. I.95)
Eleanor watched dreamily as the sky behind Malfoy Manor turned a deep translucent turquoise banded with flaming gold and purple above the horizon. The first stars appeared, and their twinkling, silvery light was rivaled by the thousands of tiny will-o'-the-wisps that were set into the trees of the garden and park. Well-fed guests milled around them, taking a breath of the refreshing evening air after the sumptuous dinner in the Silver Hall.
Inside one could hear the strains of a small orchestra playing traditional dance tunes. Lucius and Eleanor had opened the dance, but now the guests had taken over, and the red-haired witch was grateful to be outside in the relative cool and quiet.
Lucius, who stood next to her, his arm possessively laid around her waist, talked intently to three Ministry wizards that had joined them. "I am sorry, but I will not second that proposal," he said firmly. "You are asking me to jeopardize my own business venues in that area. No wizard in their right mind would consent to that – unless you were prepared to make up a net loss of about two-hundred thousand galleons every year to me."
The man Lucius had spoken to looked slightly uncomfortable now. "Well, we could give you the exclusive trading rights for central Europe, and throw the North African market into the bargain," he suggested and caught nothing but a haughty sneer from his opposite.
"Not good enough, my dear man, not good enough, I'm afraid. Do your math and come back with a proposal I can take seriously and I'll reconsider. You know, Snarewood, I always keep an open mind."
He turned to her now and she felt his hand tighten on her hip. "Come on, Eleanor, I don't think we have anything else to talk about." He turned to his guests with a curt bow. "Excuse us, please."
She shook her head as he led her away. "This place is run by Slytherins, isn't it?" she asked him. He leant over to her side and brushed a kiss on her temple.
"Funny you should say that. He is actually a Hufflepuff, which would account for his amazing stupidity and lack of accounting skills, my dear. But I am afraid I am boring you. You pick the next bunch of people to talk to."
They aimlessly wound their way back towards the house stopping here and there to accept people's greetings, thanks and congratulations. Golden light filtered out from the open windows of the large ball-room and Eleanor paused to watch the dancing couples.
"There's Draco," she smiled. "Seems he is having fun."
She felt Lucius halt by her side. "Yes, one of the Pucey girls, a Slytherin," he said matter-of-factly. "He asked me if he could invite her from school. The family is good enough for him, yet not influential enough to make trouble should Draco take more liberties with her than her parents would like him to."
Eleanor tilted her head at Lucius' cool assessment. "So she's good training material, but not quite making the cut for serious girl-friend in your opinion?"
He lifted a brow and smirked at her. "Precisely," he said.
"That's awful, Lucius," she said, finding herself rather upset with his callous reaction.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Come now, sweet. It's realistic. Malfoys don't settle for anything but the best. You should know that by now."
She knew it was also meant as a compliment to her as she watched the younger Malfoy laugh at some remark his companion had made and hold her to him as they moved through the intricate figures of the dance, robes flying. She felt happy for him and hoped his father would let him make his own choices rather than impose his evaluation of the situation on him.
"Ah, Lushiush!" suddenly slurred a booming voice next to her and as she turned in surprise she looked into the reddened face and slightly unfocused eyes of Cornelius Fudge. "Mrs. M-Malfoy!" He vigorously shook both their hands, staggering slightly.
A wave of wine-scent hit her as he now threw his arm around the blond wizard pulling them almost both to the ground. "You are one lucky bashtard…" he said and hiccoughed, and she watched her husband's eyes narrow in annoyance.
Eleanor hesitated for a moment, then she stretched up to place a quick kiss on Lucius' cheek. "My love, I'm dying of thirst. Please excuse me for a moment."
The glance that hit her out of grey eyes didn't look best pleased at her abandonment, but he released her. "Don't take too long," he admonished her.
Quickly she gathered her skirts and ascended the steps to the paved patio that led to the open doors of the ball room. Of course it was a case of desertion, but she found that Lucius' remarks about Miss Pucey had really annoyed her and she needed a brief break to compose herself. In the interim this was sweet revenge, and Fudge shouldn't prove to be more than her husband could handle by himself.
It was occasions like this that made Lucius grateful for being able to perform a bit of wandless magic if the need arose. Mrs. Fudge now knelt by the body of her unconscious husband while the blond wizard waved commandingly at some servants to carry the minister inside.
"Don't worry," he reassured the witch. "He's just had a tad too much to drink. It can happen. I'm sure he'll come round in a few minutes. The house-elves will give him a sobering draught."
No one had seen him put a light stupefaction spell on the annoying drunk, and Fudge himself would be too inebriated to remember. He watched the servants levitate the body and he gave the minister's wife one last cold smile before her turned intent on finding Eleanor, who had abandoned him and in his opinion her wifely duties of standing by her husband.
As he entered the Silver Hall it didn't take him long to spot her. She stood near the buffet next to a large arrangement of fruit and talked to his sister, who had changed from her yellow ceremonial robes into a stunning black and red velvet gown. Cornelia had just moved forward and lightly raised Eleanor's gold and emerald necklace from her shoulder to give it a closer inspection.
He lifted an eyebrow in surprise. His older sister typically didn't get particularly friendly or even touchy with people she had just met. Now both women laughed, and Eleanor reached to her side to pick up a strawberry. He watched as she curved her lips around the glossy red flesh of the rather plump berry and took a slow, lingering bite. She lowered the fruit with a smile and he watched her tongue snake out to catch a stray drop of sweet juice.
He noted absent-mindedly that something was obviously wrong with the warming spells in the ball room when he suddenly saw a blond wizard in blue robes join the two women and tap his wife on her shoulder. She turned and smiled, waved at his sister and a moment later had joined the couples on the dance floor.
Lucius found himself unwilling to bear the sight of his wife dancing rather closely with Fritz Hauer, the Durmstrang quiddich coach and her former colleague. He steered a determined course through the crowd and moments later laid his hand on the teacher's shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked curtly, his eyes clearly showing that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
The tall man turned and looked at him. "Oh, well, can't deny the husband, I suppose," he said with a strongly accented voice and gave his host an open, friendly smile. "You are to be envied, Mr. Malfoy." He elegantly stepped out of the way and bowed.
Lucius pulled the red-haired witch to him with a bit more force than was strictly necessary and eased into the steps of the dance as he felt her body make contact with his. He remembered her first tentative attempts to dance with him at the St. Mungo's charity ball she had attended with him six years ago. He had insisted even then she took lessons and now she moved with ease and fluid grace.
"Minister Fudge still among the living?" she teased him as he spun her into a tight turn. He gave a brief snort of amusement. "I knocked him out with a spell when he started drooling all over my robes. He should be inside somewhere with a very humiliated and pissed-off wife and a murderous headache. Serves him right."
With his eyes on the other dancers he steered them to the fringes of the dance floor. "And what do you think you were doing, leaving me in the lurch like that, hm?" he asked, gripping her hard and bending her backwards.
She gasped, wisps of her red hair flying as her body followed his lead. "Oh – lobbyists, drunks, little shady ministry deals… Lucius, this is our handfasting, we're supposed to enjoy ourselves! I just needed a break."
They were now dancing by themselves near the exit. "Then who am I to deny you, my dear?" he said, and suddenly moved her to the side. "Invisibilis," he murmured and pulled her behind a corner. "Aperto portam!"
A moment later a gateway had opened in the wall, and he led her down a torch-lit deserted corridor. The light that surrounded them for a moment faded, and she knew that the door had sealed itself again. Seconds later he had pushed her up against the wood-paneled wall, his rough breath sounding quite loud in the sudden quiet of the hallway. His powerful body pinned her in place and he buried his fingers in her hair as he captured her mouth in a bruising kiss.
"Lucius, we can't," she protested as he released her eventually. She squirmed against him. "We can't just abandon our guests." He held her and she felt his right knee insistently nudge between her thighs.
"Our guests don't give a bat's eye for our company. They have their food, drink, music, gossip and envy. Now they can even talk about us behind our backs. Oh, no, my dear, you demanded some fun. And some fun we'll have. The more you struggle, the better."
He looked down into her pleasantly flushed face and saw a brief, amused smirk before she lifted her hands to his shoulders to push him away. Her slim body arched off the wall as she fought him with just enough strength and determination to let him know that she enjoyed the game as much as he did.
He overpowered her quite easily and grasped her wrists as he forced her back. He could see her quick labored breath lift the creamy skin of her breasts above the tightly laced bodice of her gown. "I want you," he whispered. "Say it! Tell me!"
She shook her head, enjoying resisting him. He kissed her again and found her respond despite herself. He lightly bit her lips as he released her this time. She still tasted of strawberries.
"Tell me you want me," he urged her again. The grasp of his hands that pinned her wrists in place tightened to painful intensity. He saw her nostrils flare as the sensation hit her. Her hips ground against his.
His voice was nothing but a heated hiss by her ear as he leaned in. "Tell me, Eleanor!"
He felt her relax a little, almost ready to give in. But he was not ready to accept surrender just yet. Her struggle was just too delightful.
He curved his lips in a cruel smile as he continued. "You are my wife now. I will have obedience from you." He knew that would get a rise out of her, and felt hardly surprised as she spat at him like a cornered cat and tried to truly free herself now.
She wrestled him silently, determinedly, compressing her lips in frustration at his superior strength. Still, he found it quite hard to control her now. He pushed forward bringing his face against her neck and nudging his groin against her hip, sure she would be able to feel his arousal even through the skirts of her gown. "Just give in," he coaxed her. "You know you want to…"
He heard a sigh, and as he lifted his face to hers he saw her eyes glittering with excitement. For a moment she hesitated, making him wait for it, then she leaned in. "I want you Lucius," she told him. "I want you now, all of you."
The next second he had released her. "Here?" he asked, smirking at her. "Now, you say?"
She cuffed him on his arm. "You are impossible!" she complained.
He feigned complete disinterest for a moment. "Well, a husband is supposed to humor his wife's whims, my dear. You want me here? Here is where you'll have me."
His hands moved to pull up the skirts of her dress and soon he felt the warm, inviting flesh of her thighs under the silky smoothness of her stockings. His fingers moved up, following the contours of her legs past her garters to guide him through the maze of fabric that covered her, and then his brows arched in pleased surprise as he suddenly encountered the velvety lips of her cunt.
"But my dear, we are wearing no underwear tonight?" he purred. "How delightfully naughty and unprincipled for a married witch, especially for one acting so coy just a little while ago."
A moment later he had hoisted her up against the wall and felt her thighs move around his hips for leverage. With regret he abandoned her for a moment as his fingers fumbled to find the buttons on his trousers. The generous skirts of her dress proved to be a serious impediment, but Lucius always enjoyed a challenge. He found the current mix of difficulties and accessibility she presented in her gown quite stimulating.
He eventually succeeded in freeing his cock and blindly reached for her again letting his sense of touch guide him as he spread her slicked lips and stroked her, slipping two fingers into her. She grasped his shoulders to hold herself steady and her head sank to the side as she abandoned herself to his caresses. Her hair had come lose, cascading down her shoulders. She closed her eyes and her lips parted as she moaned with pleasure.
"Oh gods," she murmured. "Lucius!" The sight of her and the sound of her voice was more than any man with a drop of blood in him could bear.
"I want you," growled the blond wizard, echoing the words he had made her say earlier. "Gods, I never wanted you more, Eleanor." A throaty groan was his only answer.
He clenched his teeth as he reached down to position himself and then pushed into her with a force that caused the ancient wood-paneling of the hallway to creak and groan under the pressure. She cried out before he could capture her lips and stifle the sound of their mutual pleasure in a drawn-out kiss.
She rocked against him, her drive for release as determined as his own, and he reveled in the intensity with which she abandoned herself to him. He was sure neither of them would take long and he didn't mind. There would be enough time to savor her and take things slowly later, during their wedding night. Her fingers buried themselves in his shoulders now and he felt her thighs tighten around his hips in a vise-grip. "Come on," he grunted.
Her moans grew more urgent as he moved harder and faster, and a moment later she arched her head back and cried out. He felt the grip of her muscles as she contracted around him, the intensity of her climax enough to set him off. He staggered into her with a gasp, groaning and biting the side of her neck as his release washed over him. It seemed at the same time to last forever and yet was over much too soon.
She trembled in his arms as he steadied her and gently let her glide back to the floor. "Easy now," he told her softly and held her. "There, just get your feet beneath you. Can you stand?"
Eleanor lifted her head and licked her lips. "Ask me again next year," she quipped breathlessly and pushed her hair out of her face. A few twigs of the flowers the house-elves had braided and pinned into her tresses remained in her hands and she stared at them. "Gods, I'm a bloody mess," she complained.
He held her chin in his hand for emphasis. "You look more gorgeous than I have ever seen you," he told her. "You're flushed, sated, disheveled, and everything about you tells me you're entirely mine! You're perfect, and let no one convince you otherwise."
His complete seriousness let her pause and look at him. "Thank you, Lucius," she said, and he was sure she meant more than his compliment. He released her chin and stroked over her cheek. "You are always welcome, my dear," he murmured.
A moment later she had seemingly forgotten about her appearance as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lucius, what's that noise? There's people shouting!"
He let go of her and listened, hearing the sounds of running, cries and barked commands. His lips compressed in a thin line. "Merlin's balls, you're right!" He hurriedly buttoned up his trousers and gave her barely the time to smooth down her skirts as he drew her along with him. "Do you have your wand with you?" he asked her as they sped up the corridor back to the Silver Hall. She nodded, pulling the slim cherry-wood from her bodice.
A second later the secret doorway had admitted them back into the ball-room, where they found the feast in panicked disarray. Aurors had mingled with the guests, and Lucius grabbed one of them by the collar of his robes as he almost ran them over. "Report, man! What happened?"
The ministry employee focused and recognized the Lord of Malfoy Manor. "Your son," he said breathlessly. "They found Miss Pucey in a petrificus on the lawn outside your house and young Mr. Malfoy is missing. Location spells have confirmed it. He's gone."
