Lucius Malfoy walked around the edge of the ballroom, a crystal glass of fire whiskey in hand, as he observed his guests.
Antonin Dolohov looking murderous as usual while Thorfin Rowle crowed about some victory or other. Rabastan Lestrange carrying out disgusting re-enactments of his dubious sexual prowess on the antique chaise longue in front of a group of laughing, newly minted Death Eaters. Narcissa attempting to keep up polite conversation with Lady Greengrass whilst simultaneously trying to eviscerate Rabastan with her eyes.
Crowds of the purest of the purebloods, brown nosing half-bloods and there, in the centre of the room, surrounded by friends, fans and sycophants, the birthday boy. Well, man. Not a boy. Not any longer. Draco looked as bored as Lucius had ever seen him. The overly laden table containing all the fabulous, rare, expensive gifts, the dazzling entertainments and rich foods. None of this could even coax a single smile from his precious, spoilt son.
Lucius had watched earlier in the day as Draco had torn through his gifts, the excitement dulling further and further as the one gift he so desperately wished for was nowhere to be found. No father could leave such a son with such disappointment.
No, Draco’s real present would have to wait until the drinks had been drank, cake eaten and guests long gone. Lucius allowed himself a satisfied smile. He really did spoil his only son far too much.
As the afternoon dwindled into the evening and Narcissa was shooing a rather love-struck Astoria Greengrass away from a rather indifferent Draco and towards to floo, Lucius decided to bestow his last gift.
“Come with me son” Lucius gestured towards the grand wooden staircase that led to the east wing of Malfoy manor, where Draco’s suite of rooms resided.
The two Malfoy men ascended the stairs, their large strides making quick work of the many steps and lengthy hallways.
Lucius took a moment to observe his son. Officially a man when he had turned 17, he was now 21. He had grown into a fine young man. Tall, handsome. The horrors of the war far behind him. He had filled out well, defined muscle visible underneath his tailored shirt.
“Just where are we going father?” drawled his sons disappointed voice. “I don’t want a drink in your study if that’s where we are headed. Theo wants to go to Rabastans Den. Says I should have some real fun on my birthday and not a 'stupid tea party with my mother’s friends'.”
“You are not setting foot in that filthy brothel!” Lucius exclaimed. “Theodore Nott should have better sense than that. Besides, I think you should open your final gift.” And with that, they arrived at the door to Draco’s bedroom.
Lucius opened the door and gently pushed Draco inside. There, on the floor next to his four poster bed, was a large box. Silver letters on the front spelled out a name, and a dark green ribbon secured the lid tightly in place.
Draco looked back at his father sharply, eyes wide and disbelieving. Then his lips turned up into a wide smile. "How is this possible father? Where did you get this?"
Lucius smiled back at him indulgently. "I know how jealous you were last year when your friend Gregory got one of these. But I also know that you had your heart set on a particular one. This was a very difficult model to track down." He watched as Draco knelt down to rub a hand reverently along the lid of the box.
"What Greg got pales in comparison with this." Draco dragged his eyes away to look at his father. "Thank you."
"Only the best for a Malfoy."
He watched with anticipation as Draco untied the ribbon and removed the lid, making sure to watch his sons face as Draco took in the contents of the box. A gasp of shock, a look of wonder, then eagerness.
She was beautiful, even Lucius could admit that. Delicate, slender, flawless skin and glossy, curled hair. The luscious curves of her body equally exposed and hidden in the most tantalising of ways.
He watched as Draco took her in. From her pouty pink lips, down to her rather pretty toes. Draco reached his hand into the box to touch her. The sheer and satin cropped corset, in a pretty shade of periwinkle blue, presented her beautiful breasts in such a tempting way that Draco could not help but skim his fingers along their curved tops. Strips of satin ribbon tied the corset tightly in the back and matched the thin satin ribbon at her shoulders. Matching sheer periwinkle panties tied with satin ribbon sat low on her gently rounded hips and gave another tantalising glimpse whilst still hiding her from view.
Draco ran a hand down the smooth skin of her legs next. Long, slim yet shapely, Lucius knew that in that moment his son was imagining them wrapped around his hips. Draco began to levitate her from her box.
"Aren't you forgetting something son?" Lucius almost laughed at Draco's eagerness, and nodded towards the lid of the box.
"You must use the dagger carefully Draco. Make sure you pronounce the incantation correctly. Bind her to you." Lucius watched as Draco carefully removed the dagger from its sheaf on the inside of the lid. From inside a silk pouch, Draco next removed a fine velvet ribbon, at its centre sat a small clear gemstone.
Draco brought the dagger to the tip of his finger and pierced the skin. He held his finger over the gemstone and allowed a drop of blood to land upon its surface. Lucius watched closely as Draco did the same with his gift, lifting her hand gently and piercing a fingertip. He couldn't say he was shocked that her blood was just as red, just as pure looking as theirs was. He had spilled the blood of many, many mudbloods before.
The gemstone turned black for a moment, as the combination of their mixed blood sank inside the stones surface. Draco began reciting the spell.
"Imperium, Necto, Pareo."
The gemstone glowing gold as the spell took hold. Draco took hold of the ribbon and secured it around her neck.
"It's done." Draco looked very pleased, and eagerly watched as long dark lashes fluttered against smooth, pale cheeks. She was waking. Wasting no more time, Draco lifted her himself and deposited her on his bed. His arousal evident from his tented trousers. He began to remove his shirt and Lucius took that as his cue to leave.
"Happy Birthday Son" he said as he made his way to the door, but there was no reaching Draco now, who only had eyes for the witch in his bed.
Lucius couldn't help himself, when he reached the door he turned back to have one last look, and what a sight it was. He was rather envious of his son. She looked glorious, lying on the bed. Hair spread out around her head, chest heaving as she struggled to make sense of what was happening. Draco was so eager he hadn't bothered to undress further, or remove any of her lingerie. He had simply pulled down her panties at the front and was busy lining himself up to enter her.
As he took in the scene he felt eyes upon him. She was watching him. Wide doe eyes, filled with shock and horror met his own. He gave her a cruel smirk, then she looked away, back to Draco as he forced himself upon her. Mouth open in a silent cry, she could do nothing as Draco groaned in pleasure. He wasted no time, thrusting against her, hands at her breasts and mouth at her neck.
She would be covered in marks. There was a time Lucius would enjoy rough play with his wife. He wondered if she would indulge him tonight. Watching his son play with his new toy had aroused something dark within him that demanded to be satisfied.
"Touch me Doll" Draco groaned from the bed. Lucius watched as Hermione's hands slid, against her will, up Draco's arms, one tangling in his hair, the other holding onto the flexing muscle of his bicep.
Lucius left the room and closed the door. He could hear his sons satisfied grunts all along the hall as Lucius returned to the ballroom. Draco was never good at sharing his toys. Perhaps if he happened to break this one, he might let his father play with it before they discarded it. Perhaps not. He had seen the covetous gleam in his sons eyes when he opened his gift.
Ah well. Happy Birthday indeed.