Chapter 4
Draco had taken extra care of his appearance for tonight, Black dragonhide shoes, black slacks, and a black button down. He decided against the jacket and tie, tonight was important but it was far from formal. He had decided to leave his top two buttons undone, and roll up his sleeves, for he had a feeling Hermione would appreciate the look. He was fixing his hair for the umpteenth time when Adrian walked in on him. “For the love of Merlin, you look like sex personified. Is that enough of a compliment to get your ass moving now? We’ve only been waiting on you for the past hour.”
Draco, after fixing one last strand of hair, replied “Coming from the wizard who would fuck a hag if she offered? Not really, no.”
Adrian’s laugh proceeded his reply, “I’m just a wizard who loves to love, you can’t dare to fault me for that.”
Draco snorted, and they left his rooms to go find the others before apparating away.
Walking into The Magical Menagerie was a culmination of everything he had accomplished over the past couple of years. The single point he had been working towards, every decision he made, every action he took, had led to this moment and he could not be more elated to be here.
A slow whistle came from Adrian once they had made it through the door (and thanks to Pansy’s threat they were no longer in their juicy suits and instead in respectable attire befitting their station). “This is quite the place they have going here. I know Pans has told us about it but seeing it in person?”
“It reminds me of that one club in Paris, what is it?” Theo said.
“Les Chandelles, and it should. Daphne took heavy inspiration from it when designing this one,” was Blaise’s answer.
Draco couldn’t help his wandering eyes, the decor was exquisite and provocative, luxurious, welcoming, but also somehow exclusive . He had to hand it to the girls, with Daphne they really made something here.
He had been warned that the serving staff was off limits, noted by the collars around their necks. Though his attention would not be on them anyway, he had been sure to remind his friends of the rule.
Draco, Theo, Blaise, and Adrian were led to and seated at a booth at the very front of the stage. Pansy and the Weaslette gave him twin devious smirks and walked off before Draco could ask why the bloody hell he was placed in front of a pole stage when they were supposed to be having a meeting?
One of the servers came and took their drink orders, fire whiskeys all around. The server informed them that due to tonight’s festivities Amortentia would be piped in through the air ducts and offered them all the antidote. Draco accepted the antidote, he knew it would be difficult enough to remain in control of himself tonight as it was, he really did not need the added stress of Amortentia pumping through his system. Adrian and Theo, of course, refused the antidote.
“It’s our first time here, why not partake in all that the princess has to offer,” Theo stated.
Adrian shrugged, “when in Rome.”
To everyone’s complete shock, Blaise actually agreed with the other two and also refused the antidote. When the others looked at him as though he had grown a second head he shrugged and said “Lupercalia is important to my people, Amortentia is traditionally used in the great hunt. Who am I to step on that tradition on this sacred night?”
The other three wizards gave a ‘that’s valid’ head nod towards Blaise before the lights lowered in the room. Every light over the stage went out except for one behind the pole, and then she stepped onto the stage.
Due to the lighting all that could be seen of her was her silhouette and her red outfit.
Draco stiffened slightly, ‘Angel’ by Massive Attack began playing.
And then she started dancing.
Entranced could not properly convey the way Draco was watching Hermione dance, there was not a word in any language to fully convey the laser focus that the wizard was currently holding on the witch that was dancing on the pole.
His pants began tenting.
Hermione climbed and began swinging slowly.
Draco could feel his blood begin to boil.
Hermione dropped into a dip.
Draco sat forward.
As the song crescendoed, Hermione dropped to the floor into a split.
Draco nearly groaned, his cock throbbing painfully.
Hermione began climbing again.
Draco licked his lips.
Hermione continued her dance.
Draco watched and imagined every filthy, deprived, potentially illegal in a dozen countries thing he wanted to do to her. He could have orgasmed from the images alone in his head.
Somewhere, buried deep behind the current scene in front of him, and the scenes playing out in his head, Draco knew he was properly fucked. He would not survive this meeting intact.
He would fall to his knees the second it started and beg, plead, offer to burn the fucking world and lay it at her feet, for just one taste of her.
He had let this obsession go on for too long, he needed to regain control of himself.
Hermione flipped on the pole.
Draco moaned.
The song was ending and Hermione was exiting the stage, crawling onto their table. Her striking eyes neutralizing him instantly. Medusa herself could not have frozen Draco as quickly as Hermione Granger did.
The words ‘love you, love you, love you’ played over the sound system.
The word mine was repeated in Draco’s head to the beat.
Hermione leaned in close, practically in Draco’s lap.
Draco had died. Surely his heart had stopped. He couldn’t remember how to breathe.
Hermione began speaking into Draco’s ear “grab a mask, catch me if you can. If you manage it, we’ll join forces, no negotiations required.”
That challenge is exactly what Draco needed to wake up again. He allowed a smirk come to his face “Love, if I catch you I’m fucking you.”
In lieu of an agreement Hermione only returned his smirk before exiting the table.
An announcement was made that all hunters were to now dawn their masks and in one minute the hunt would begin.
Draco looked to his friends, all three with pupils blown wide, chests already rising and falling drastically, desperate for more air. He knew that there would be no help in this venture. Not that he wanted any help, Draco Malfoy was a man willing to do many things to acquire what he wanted, through various means, some would consider some of those means to be cheating. Draco would disagree of course, all's fair in love, war, and business dealings after all. But this.
This was his. He had already proved to himself that he had earned her. Earned the right to be accepted into her circle. Her smirk and offer has confirmed that for gim. He had no need for any of his normal nefarious actions.
He still cast a scent tracking spell, just one little teeny leg up.
All is fair in love and war, and he had a feeling this hunt would be both.
The luxury of the club changed to a dark landscape, one filled with old and gnarled trees. There was fog, shadows, the call of crows and owls alike, sounds of small animals skippering through the undergrowth.
A horn sounded, Draco took one deep breath, his nostrils filling with the scent of her: dahlias and sandalwood.
Music was playing. The sound full of drums, rhythmic chanting, horns and growls, voices speaking of primal desires in the old language. Draco felt the beat in his blood, could feel his heart racing to match the drums.
He saw Hermione run. He didn’t feel the need to follow her speed, for he knew that he would find her.
No matter what happened, he would always find her.
Hermione thanked Morgana for the rigorous routine she put her body through on a daily basis. She knew that without it she would not have lasted more than five minutes. And she wanted this hunt to last, was lit up with the fire coursing through her veins.
As she ran she continued to glance backwards, checking for her stalker. Everytime she glimpsed him her heart would race faster, her palms growing slick, her breathing becoming deeper.
He had left the mask to only cover half his face, his mouth in a permanent smirk.
In his all black outfit he appeared to be Hades himself, cutting through the darkness to collect his bride.
The ink peaking out on his arms and up to his neck lending to his aura of pure danger.
Hermione had never been so scaroused before.
She had done hunts before, none of them had ever excited her as this one had. She felt alive, truly alive, as she streaked through the trees. She hadn’t agreed to his bold statement of what would happen if (when, for who was she kidding, she would make sure she would be caught) he caught her. She hadn't been sure then.
She was never more sure of anything in her life now. She wanted Draco Sodding Malfoy.
She rounded a tree and took just one second to watch him before she continued on.
What she saw thrilled her. A wizard on a mission, eyes firing with the same need she felt lighting up her body, his strides long and utterly confident. She saw him pause, watched his nostrils flare. And then those eyes cut to hers and she knew. She knew he had used a spell to track her. She should be furious with him. She only giggled before once again taking off.
Draco watched her watching him, saw her pupils blow wide, her eyes leaving a blazing trail down his body. Pausing on the obvious erection he was sporting, her eyes widened at the sight of it.
She was half hidden behind a tree, her hair as wild as the soul it belonged to, branches and leaves already stuck in it, her body glistening in sweat. He couldn’t wait to get a taste of her.
When he saw the joy on her face he decided he would chase her for a while longer. He wanted her to enjoy every single moment of this encounter. She took off again, her lithe body and bare feet nimbly skipping over the fallen logs.
He chased until he saw her steps slow, until her glances back at him became more frequent, until the flush in her cheeks spread to her chest.
She stopped for a moment again, he gave up pretense and apparated directly in front of her.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes screaming desire for him. “Draco” was a whisper, barely an exhale.
It was the final chord of his control snapping.
He wouldn’t give her the chance to fight and escape again, she was his and he was going to show her exactly what it meant to belong to a Malfoy.
He threaded his hands through her hair, the thickness of her curls surpassing every daydream he ever had about them, as soft as silk despite their appearance.
He brought his lips to hers and finally, finally, he tasted her.
She was greater than anything he could have ever hoped for. Honeyed mead and peppermint, he could almost taste her lust on her tongue.
This kiss was not gentle, it was years of pining, of dreams, of taking himself in his hand, it was his insecurities and desires, it was primal.
Hermione moaned into his mouth, he moved her head to deepen the kiss.
He removed one hand from her hair to remove the mask, and then drag it down her body, the shift doing very little to cover her.
He stopped at one breast, massaging it for a moment before moving on.
He grabbed her hip, used it to push her into the tree as he stepped further into her space. They weren’t close enough, he was beginning to wonder if he would ever be close enough to her.
His hand left her hip and continued, moving to her thigh and the edge of the shift, pulling it up he worked his way to her core.
Hermione was whimpering now, begging and pleading for more.
Draco brought his hand to where both Hermione and himself wanted, no, needed it to be.
He found her slick, soaked, ready for him. He moaned in her mouth and dipped a finger in. Then two.
She was gasping now, keening.
He broke the kiss for a moment and brought his fingers to his lips. She was ambrosia. It was an instantaneous addiction. Her lips were from heaven, the taste of her cunt from the darkest corners of sin.
He kissed her once more before dropping to his knees. He needed more. Directly from the source.
She was his addiction and he had already decided he would gladly drown in her.
He grabbed her shift, pushed it up, grabbed her legs and set them on his shoulders, he propped her back against the tree, took one massive inhale before his tongue cut up her in one languid motion.
Draco saw magic. He truly felt he could actually see the threads of magic surrounding them, so powerful was the taste of her.
Hermione screamed his name. The absolutely gutteral sound escaping her lips became his second favorite addiction.
He was a man starved, dehydrated, deprived of every joy life had to offer until this moment.
He feasted.
Hermione was being escorted to a different plane, a new reality, her soul was being torn apart and reborn. She had never imagined she would be able to make the sounds currently exiting her lips. She was lost to him, his tongue, dipping in and out of her, his nose assaulting her clit while he did so. And then his tongue was back on her clit and his fingers were inside of her again.
One. Then two. Scissoring her open to accommodate the third he added.
In the back of her brain she acknowledged he was stretching her, opening her for him. For the size of the bulge that she had witnessed earlier.
She looked down at him, all she saw of him were his eyes, the rest of his face buried in her thighs. She grabbed his hair and pulled. He looked up and she almost came right then and there.
His eyes were black, no light left in them. He was possessed, because of her. The power that one look brought flowed through her, igniting sensations she had not previously felt.
He continued to watch her as his tongue and his fingers brought her to new heights.
She would lock this memory away, in the book that held her darkest fantasies.
The bark of the tree scratched her back in the most delicious ways, adding to the multitude of sensations she was currently experiencing.
His fingers bending inside of her, hitting the spot that would have hee coming undone in no time, and backing off before she could fully succumb.
So lost in the sense of him she was that she didn’t notice the sound of apparition not far from them, or the redhead that decided to watch for just a moment before she spoke.
“The Russians are here.”
Hermione barely registered the words, moved her head towards her best friend and only nodded.
“They’re requesting an immediate meeting. Something about one of their own going missing in London,” Ginny said. She was smirking. She had never seen Hermione in such a state. Maybe those rumors about the ferret were true.
Hermione licked her lips, she was so close. So, so close. “They can wait a minute” she managed to push out in between the never ending moans leaving her.
Ginny only nodded “I’ll get them settled until your done here” before adding “she’s not loud enough ferret, do better.”
Draco gave her a two finger salute before taking the challenge to heart, he crooked his fingers again, pressed up, and sucked on her clit.
Hermione exploded, she was but dust amongst the stars now. Surely she had died, she swore she could see beyond the veil, glimpse the universe in its entirety.
She had never before experienced such a violent orgasm.
Draco delighted in the screams coming from his witch’s throat. He momentarily heard the chuckles from the Weaslette before she apparated away again. He paid no mind, for he had found heaven, hell, the underworld, and Underhill themselves. He was drowning in the juices he had pulled from his witch.
He sucked and drank and lapped until she finally began to relax.
Her full body tremors slowly turning to twitches.
Her screams moving to sobs, and then quiet whimpers. He removed her legs from his shoulders gently, wanting to see if she had the strength to stand on her own. When he was confident she could he summoned a robe for her, he knew this moment was over for now. The Russians waited for no one, and Hermione would want to deal with this as quickly as possible. “Let’s go mon coeur, we shouldn’t keep your guests waiting” he dropped a kiss to her forehead before he gestured to her to lead the way.
Hermione grabbed his arm and apparated them into where she knew Ginny would have taken the Russians. She found Pansy, Ginny and Luna waiting with them, but was also surprised to find Theo, Blaise, and Adrian there as well. With a questioning glance Ginny walked over to Hermione and whispered in her ear “Luna was the first that Claire could find, she was with Blaise. When he heard the news he called for antidotes and rounded up the crew,” she said and ended it on a shrug.
Hermione walked further into the room, Draco at her back and cutting to the chase she said “What in Merlin’s name would cause you to interrupt us on a night of celebrations? Knowing exactly what was happening as you were sent an invitation, one that you declined.”
Draco couldn’t help at the boldness his witch was showing in the face of this Russian. Draco knew this one, had seen first hand what happened to those who he even perceived a threat from.
“Ve ave news of one of ours not returning from your town,” the big one said. She knew this one, he was the Bratvas main ambassador. She had worked towards a civil relationship with them, and hoped that would hold during whatever mess they had brought to her.
“I was not made aware of one of yours in town, which was a concession that was very clearly outlined during the peace talks, so I’m failing to see why the accusation is being pushed onto us at this moment. If he was here without notice he was braking the agreement, not us.”
The big one relaxed slightly and sighed, “he vas not here on business, but pleasure. Ve are asking for your help. He is… not smart kid. Last ve heard he vas sneaking around clubs. Ve thought you help. He is nephew of Aleksandr.”
Hermione pinched her nose with her fingers. A missing Russian was bad enough. A missing Russian who was kin to one of the heads was a disaster. “What does he look like, his age? Surely with his accent he won’t be too hard to find.”
“He is young, 19, brown hair, curls, brown eyes. No accent, it vas trained out of him. He vas supposed to take over as ambassador in few years, Alexei.”
She felt Draco stiffen at her back. She hoped the big man didn’t notice it.
Her hopes were dashed when he spoke again, becoming serious and severe once more, “vat do you know boy.”
“нотнинг” Draco responded immediately.
“Кто ты для нее, я никогда тебя раньше не видел.”
Draco remained silent.
“ты ее новая собака” was accompanied by a rough bout of laughter.
Draco could not stay silent this time “Я ее дракон”
The gruff sounds that emitted from Draco upon speaking the new language did things to Hermione, things that were decidedly not conducive to the current situation.
The big man narrowed his eyes and switched back to English, “you are the Malfoy boy, ve have heard of you.”
Hermione had absolutely zero idea what had been said, for apparently she had received a very different education than Draco. And judging by Theos changed demeanor, he too understood, but she could still ascertain that this little gathering was going downhill rapidly.
She cut in “I will help look for this boy, I’ll contact my man in the DMLE and we’ll find him.”
The Russian briefly took his eyes off of Draco to give Hermione a nod.
Pansy, ever the pureblood hostess, and expert at defusing any situation, chimed up. “would you gentleman care to stay for the night? The hunt is surely over but as you know there’s still plenty of fun to be had here” she smiled at the men.
The big man thought for a moment before nodding, “Ve vould like that.”
She lead them out of the room and Hermione immediately spun on Draco, crossing her arms she asked “What the fuck did you do.”
Theo and Adrian started laughing.
Draco held up his hands “I swear to you I had no idea he was a Russian. He didn’t even have an accent!!”
Hermione stared at him.
“Listen. He was drugging girls in one of my clubs. It was justified. He won’t be found.”
Hermione felt a headache forming. How was she going to explain this one away? The dead nephew of one of the most dangerous men in Russia.
All because Draco Sodding Malfoy had apparently developed some sort of moral compass in the years since she saw him last.
She couldn’t even be mad at him, not truly. He was protecting others, and the killing was justified. She just didn’t know how she was going to spin it that way without Draco getting caught in the crossfire.