Inadmissible insight

"However, ..." Malfoy continued hesitatingly, "...about that...we do not need to hurry, I find the atmosphere in here rather ...mmmm...pleasant.." He cupped the back of Rita's head with his hand and pulled it gently towards his chest. "Who would have thought that dancing with you of all people would turn out so exciting." A mild dose of his playful, slightly cheeky charm could not harm, he reckoned, as a small grin was flushing over his face.

He felt confirmed when he heard her chuckle as well, which soon changed when she informed him of her expectations for the rest of the night.

"You're so charming, Lucius... don't need to hurry, so considerate of you..." Slowly, her hand rose to his chest and buttoned up the upper buttons of his shirt, this time much more determined then before. Soft kisses caressed the mildly tanned skin, before she drew her head away and looked up at him. "...and there's no need to slow it down either, I'd say. Is there? – Lucius?"

She studied his face slightly uncertain, then inquired with mock indignation. "Actually, that's your time to say 'No of course there isn't, my darling'. "

Malfoy snorted in amusement. "NO, of course there isn't, my darling.", he repeated obediently, and cocked an eyebrow. "And I'd love to discover the treasures beneath the surface of that ocean."

Rita grinned and threw a short, modest glance down her dress.

"I just wonder if I may use your bathroom for a minute?" he asked her. "I need to refresh myself before I can attend to you."

"But sure, Lucius." Rita said generously. "It's just over the corridor, help yourself. – I'll be waiting in the sleeping-chamber, alright? You know, the next door...it won't be closed for you this time."

"O-kay." He said, and gave her a soft slap on her lower back. "You'd better hurry that you move your extremely provocative body there. – I'll be with you in a second."

-----------------------

Grinning cheekily on her shrill laugh of surprise, he turned and headed for the door.

He stepped outside the room on the narrow corridor, made sure that he closed the door behind him, leaned against it with crossed arms and gave a low sigh.

Of course, he should have expected that. That was what all women wanted when they saw him. She was only human. But still, he wasn't used to play around for so long when he was supposed to gather necessary information for the Dark Lord. Normally, when he was questioning an unwilling informant, he didn't show them neither patience, nor mercy, nor his underwear. Actually, he did feel slightly uncomfortable with the fact that he had been instructed to do something that was difficult enough to accomplish without any pressure. Shaking his head, he grabbed in his waistcoat pocket and retrieved his golden watch. Over an hour had passed since he had arrived at Rita's flat. And so far, she had told him absolutely nothing, had even dared question him in return.

On the other hand, he was well aware of the calibre of the person with whom he was dealing here. One wrong word of his could unleash an unstoppable press campaign that would be disastrous to his reputation (and probably to his health, regarding the Dark Lord's reaction), like a wrong step high up an alpine mountain could start an avalanche that would destroy everything in its way and cover the next few villages.

But of course, he was used to choose his words well, so her attempts to make him reveal his own secrets were really a minor problem here. And he was convinced that, if he would take it slowly, he would get to know the names of Hathorne's companions back in the pub – as Jimmy had been the only one he knew – and what they had been talking about, in no time. One thing, however, had extremely increased his respect for Skeeter... He had no clue how on earth she had been able to arrange an interview with members of the Department of Mysteries without having been slaughtered before. Maybe he should tread a little more cautiously around her. And, although under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be unfaithful to Narcissa, at least not with a Daily Prophet reporter, that woman had style, and was indeed...yes, surely you could call her that...a treat.

------------------------

But he couldn't stand here forever. Malfoy pulled himself out of his thoughts and hurried for the bathroom.

He registered with relief that even that room was neat and tidy. No-one besides Rita would call it tasteful or inviting, and it was smaller than the tiniest of his own broom cupboards, but at least it was clean. Malfoy nodded and took a step in front the sink, which seemed to be false marble and, like the matching towels, in a bright rosé colour. In fact, which he noticed mildly bewildered, everything in here was pink, with that little rose pattern. The sink and the frame of the mirror above, the cupboard, the shelves of wicker work, the lamp, the cork floor and the ceiling, the toilet and the shower and the shiny walls. Everything. He shook his head in slight disapproval.

Shrugging, he looked up into the mirror to do the necessary preparation that would enable himself to satisfy the woman.

Even during the rare occasions when he and Narcissa had decided to have sexual intercourse, Malfoy had had always known how to get into the right mood before. And although Narcissa was considered a beauty by most people, and even he found her acceptably attractive, there was only one person who would manage to arouse his passion and, indeed, to turn him on.

He himself. Obviously. It went without saying for Malfoy that almost every witch in Britain would melt and fall into his arms the very minute he laid his eyes on her. He had even earned admiring and, understandably jealous looks of men. People seemed to be helplessly attracted to him, which was not only due to his lean and muscular body and his most appealing features, as well as to his charm and eloquence, his sophisticated well-bred behaviour, but also to his capturing character.

If everyone else was charmed by him, why should he be an exception?

Actually, the only thing he regretted was that he wasn't able to touch and caress his own body, and to feel his own body caress his, the only one that was really worth it. Narcissa was an adequate substitute, but sometimes he had considered to ask someone to take Polyjuice Potion to make his fantasies real. After all, necessity was the mother of invention. But then, seriously and carefully considering whom he should confide his secret dream, he had reached very quickly the conclusion that none of his friends would understand. Let alone do it. And besides, he would still know that it wasn't himself, so why going through the trouble?

It had to suffice to spoil himself by watching his own reflection in the mirror.

"Ah," he muttered softly, careful not to let Rita hear, "I like what I see. – Beautiful perfection. And yet, a certain touch of accessibility," he whispered to himself with appreciation. He leaned a bit closer to the mirror as he always did after the first compliments, and when his lips were merely an inch away from that of his irresistable reflection in the mirror, he continued, hardly audible: "You are the most fascinating and handsome human being I've ever come across. This will never change. – Only you and me." Closing his eyes in silent enjoyment and thrill, he closed the already short distance and planted a gentle, yet passionate kiss on the mirror. Pulling back and licking his lips, he felt that now he could even take it into consideration to get intimate with the Skeeter woman lurking for him outside.

He threw his longish, open blond hair back over his shoulder and treated himself with a last glance at his only true love, before he opened the door, determination written in his face.

He was ready.

---------------------------

When he entered the sleeping-chamber, Rita was waiting for him, half lying, half sitting on the bed, leaning against a large white cushion with a rose pattern. Her arms were crossed, and her right hand was patting impatiently on her left upper arm. She hadn't realised he had stepped into the room and was obviously wondering what was taking him so long. Malfoy gave the door a soft push and it fell shut behind him with a low noise.

Immediately, Rita's expression changed. She didn't speak, but beamed at him seductively. Her arms wandered behind her head and revealed much more of her than he had been allowed to see so far. Rita had changed clothes. Her enchanted ocean-like dress hung sloppily over a chair, and the occasional drop of water was oozing from it, forming a shallow puddle in the pink bowl below.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked back to Rita, realising that it hadn't been only the dress that had attracted him before. Rita was now wearing a satin, dark violet piece of nothing, which didn't hide too much, although it reached from her cleavage to her knees.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "My compliments." He muttered. "You definitely have a sense for the right colours." Of course, he had mainly meant her, but Malfoy noticed with a very brief glance around that in the case of her sleeping-room, this also applied to the fittings. Indeed, the furnishing was lovely. It was quite a big room, regarding the rest of her humble flat, and every single piece of equipment seemed to match perfectly with the others. An obviously expensive Persian carpet covered the whole floor, sporting an interesting pattern of woven lines and little stars. The general colour of the furniture was white, with mother-of-pearl effect, that appealed to the eye with its subtle change of colour in the light.

The most room in the chamber was taken by the large four-poster with a azure canopy above. The bed itself, as he realised with mild amusement, was magically hovering a few inches over the floor, giving the whole scene a slightly unreal appearance. And of course, there was Rita, enthroned in the middle of it, well aware of his silent appraisal.

"Thanks," she said, grinning, "but I admit I'm a little bit disappointed."

He raised his head inquiringly.

All of a sudden, Rita had grabbed beside her, and, to his true bewilderment, was now holding her wand in her hand, aiming it directly at his chest.

Instinctively, Malfoy made to retrieve his own, but stopped in his tracks. First, in the unlikely case that she was trying to attack him, it was an inadequate strategy, and, in the much more likely case that she was playing with him, he couldn't deny he was curious of what she had in mind.

With a cautious smile, he raised his arms in mock defeat. "And why would that be?" he asked.

Rita shook her head disapprovingly and gestured him to step nearer to the bed. He complied, inwardly more than a little thrilled on that development.

"Because, Lucius, you haven't changed. – You're still wearing the same clothes you did a quarter of an hour ago. – I can't have that."

With a mild flick of her wand, she muttered a Summoning Spell, and before he could even react, the bright beam hit him and Malfoy felt his silk 40-galleon shirt ripped off his body, flying towards Rita, who sent it lazily aside, on the floor.

He blinked and inclined his head in playful defiance, his hands now planted in his hips.

"I should've known...", he muttered, "never go home with strange women." He shrugged and gave a fake sigh, while Rita grinned with excitement at him for playing along, then took off his shoes with only his feet and began to undo his belt. "I hope you'll let me do that on my own, at least."

"Good you're so reasonable." She said in a superior manner, continuing her play. "So I won't need that anymore." Chuckling, she opened the night stand's drawer and put her wand inside. "Hmmm, that's more like it!"

Malfoy grinned at the compliment, which he could, naturally, more than understand. He enjoyed Rita's unabashed, close glance over his mildly tanned, muscular body, which was now only covered with a pair of silk black pants. He met her glance when her eyes had travelled up to his eyes, and raised his eyebrows as if wondering about her thoughts.

"Not too bad...", she commented and patted the white linen next to her. "What are you waiting for?"

His grin hadn't vanished when he strolled towards the bed and joined her. "I couldn't have waited much longer, Rita, you look absolutely stunning."

She didn't comment on his compliments with words, but let her hand explore his handsome upper body and she gave a soft moan when she felt his hands clasping her waist, closing the distance between them.

--------------------------

"Lucius, before we start...", Rita said suddenly, slightly uncomfortable, "uh, you know, I don't think we should risk any...unwanted results of our affair."

Malfoy looked up at her and nodded appreciatively.

"Yes...quite frankly, given the fact that I'm happily married, that's definitely in my interest, too. – I just wait here until you took the potion. – Sorry, I thought you already had."

"You misunderstand, Lucius," she said slowly, inclining her head. "I was actually suggesting that you should perform the spell."

He raised his head and cleared his throat, slightly uneasy. "Rita, dear, don't get me wrong, but I was under the assumption that that specific part is in the responsibility of the woman."

"You were?"

"Yes."

She narrowed her eyes and gave a soft, mirthless snort. "Err, I do not take the Contracepta Potion. Surely you won't expect a woman to take that potion every week – including the occasional side effect – when it's so much easier for the man to cast the spell."

"No, Rita, I don't like that...it's not the same, you know. It doesn't feel like...without it, see? Look, I'll just interrupt before, nothing will happen, I assure you..."

"No, Lucius," she shook her head and shrugged. "No safety precautions, no Rita."

Malfoy stared at her in disbelief. He desired her, certainly, but he was positive that, under different circumstances this would have been the perfect time to leave. But...

Any problems with carrying out my instructions, Lucius? Again?

"Alright," he snarled, "just...would you just turn around for a moment?"

---------------------------

Rita shook her head, grinning and looked the other way, busying herself with flattening the little table cloth on her bed-side table.

Cursing inwardly, Malfoy grabbed his wand on the floor on his side of the bed, and, after a brief glance at Rita's back, he pointed it between his legs. He cast the spell in complete silence, then put his wand quickly at the night-stand and cleared his throat. "Right." He muttered to indicate to Rita she could turn back to him.

"See," she commented on his reluctance, "it wasn't that difficult."

"Well, speak for yourself, Rita," he said cheekily, "you'd better make sure it was worth the trouble."

She gave him a soft punch against his chest. "Oh I will, Lucius, you'll soon see."

Rita climbed on his body and sat on his legs. Again, she sighed comfortably when he started to stroke her thighs and went slowly upwards, over her hips and waist, pushing her nightie up on the way.

-------------------------------

But all of a sudden... "What's that noise?" Malfoy muttered distractedly. Rita's head shot up, and contrary to Malfoy, the sound was quite familiar to her. "Oh don't mind that, Lucius. It's just the – err – cat."

"I didn't know you have a cat. And it didn't sound like one." Malfoy sat up, still full of suspicion of being overheard or supervised, he glanced around the room, listening hard.

The same soft scratching sound was to be heard, and when Malfoy tried to track down the source by listening, he found it came from the bed-side table.

"Just a second, Rita..." he muttered and laid a finger on her mouth to silence her.

"No, Lucius, that's really nothing. Really..."

But she knew she couldn't stop him. Soon, he had opened the drawer and discovered the culprit. His eyes narrowed when he observed Rita's notorious quill in the dim-lit interior of the drawer, bent over a small piece of parchment and scribbling eagerly.

Malfoy threw Rita a brief, suspicious look and grabbed the parchment, ignoring the quill, which, after some screeches of protest, just continued its work on the wooden drawer surface.

"Lucius, honestly, I forgot it was there, now give it here, that's honestly not very helpful." She tried to pull the parchment out of his hands, but failed. Malfoy sat down next to her again, careful to hold the parchment far enough from her to reach, and began to read.

Malfoy admired her lean, beautiful, stainless figure. "Oh my God, Rita!" he muttered in awe, "I cannot possibly express in words what it means to me to have the honour of being your humble lover."

Graciously, the gorgeous woman in dark violet satin threw back her long and wavy dark red hair and gave him a slightly bored smile, being, of course, used to that kind of compliments.

"Oh God, my darling", he kissed her hand, with immense delight that a mere servant like him was being allowed to touch her divine body. "I would give all my money and property for one single moment in your precious company. I am nothing compared to you."

-----------------------

Malfoy blinked, utter disbelief and bewilderment written in his features. Finally, he cleared his throat and looked back to her with raised eye-brows, the slightest touch of irony flushing threw his face.

Rita was beaming at him, far from searching for excuses, she waved off the quill's little romance novel, shrugged and explained, like it was the most natural thing on the planet: "Oops, I've forgotten I had left it there. Well, if I remain quiet for such a long time when I'm together with another person, it thinks it's supposed to assist my imagination."

Malfoy raised his head and cocked an eyebrow. "Is .. uh, is this your opinion of me?"

"Oh, no, no, no, Lucius," she explained to him like a nursery-teacher to a three-year-old, "that is what my quill believes it needs to write to satisfy me, which is not always necessarily reflecting my opinion, but is usually exactly what I would have wanted it to write if I had instructed it before. Not all the time, obviously."

Not having understood one word, he shook his head and gave her a puzzled and scrutinising look. "You know, Rita, you might have a serious problem there, I hope you're aware of that."

"Just put it back in the drawer." Rita whispered, off-handedly, ignoring his assessment.

"Alright," Malfoy did as he had been told, then pulled his willing companion back onto him again, allowing a giggling Rita to lean into his embrace and give him a soothing peck on the cheek. "But don't you think you'll get one galleon of me." He muttered, grinning, and flinched in pain when she bit him into his ear for his remark.

-------------------------------

The people who were hiding in the cupboard shifted uncomfortably. "Strange behaviour." Hathorne whispered.

"What is she playing at?" his female colleague wondered in a seething voice.

"We must keep investigating." the third Invisible pointed out.

"But really strange behaviour." agent Hathorne repeated.

"Hm-hm." now the fourth agent got himself heard, of course only to his colleagues in the small uncomfortable sideboard, which they had considered much safer to hide in than the large wardrobe.

"If you call that 'strange', you should have seen Lucius in the bathroom earlier. – No-one would believe that, if it weren't for my camera. Maybe you should take him along to your self-help-group one of these days, Jimmy?" he prompted.

"That's not your business, agent 05! How dare you! You know perfectly well that this is only the usual precautionary measure for someone who...who had taken his job a little more seriously than the others. – What? Are you laughing at me!"

"Jimmy, be quiet now!" hissed the woman.

And the group fell silent again.

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