.....
Swimming in stars, Virginia surfaced, the warm water sliding off her skin like silk. Brilliant flashes surrounded her, and the falling snow tickled her cheeks and shoulders. Slicing through the dark, dreamy liquid, her feet finally felt the bottom of the pool once more, and she left the water slowly, the steam curling around her body. A silver head surfaced farther out and she smiled, pulling a towel right out of the wall by the misty archway, where there was a good-sized hidden compartment. Drying herself off, she wrapped the thick towel around her and grabbed another, holding it out to Draco as he left the pool as well.
They went back into the bedroom, Draco still dripping wet, and both stopped for a moment to admire their lover. Blaise's eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling shallowly, nude but for the silk sheets that rode low at his hips and tangled around his legs. Raven hair was spread over and around him in wavy, teasing tendrils, obscuring half of his face and giving them only tiny glimpses of the smooth, alabaster skin that they knew was hiding underneath that satiny mass. They'd been at the Manor for three days, and both he and Draco seemed to feel secure enough to let themselves sleep an hour or two each day. Now was one of those times.
"Hmm." Draco hummed thoughtfully; his eyes glinting mischievously as he lazily dried his hair with a summoned towel. He could have done so with a spell, but all three thought that it was pretty pointless, and usually opted to let their hair dry mostly on its own.
"What?" She asked, sitting down on one of the chairs beside the bed and calling in another towel for her own hair.
"Well," Draco started with smirk, "I think it's about time we got him back for that childish little prank the other day, don't you?" A devious grin curved across her own lips then.
"And how do you propose we go about such a thing?" She asked innocently, looking up at him through thick lashes. His smirk turned predatory.
"Look at him." Draco crooned. "Just begging to be ravished until he can't stand, hmm?"
"Yes." She agreed, her eyes traveling over her lover's sleeping form hungrily. "It took your mother almost twenty minutes to get those knots out of our hair."
"Join me, then?" Draco asked, holding out a hand to her. She opened her mouth to agree, lifted her hand to accept, when a sudden and utterly wicked thought assaulted her brain. Pulling her hand back, she responded to the surprised inquiry within Draco's silvery eyes.
"How about..." She trailed off as images came on the heels of the idea and stole her breath.
"How about what, cher un?" Draco questioned, leaning against the bedpost. Snapping back to reality, she looked up at him with eyes turning smoky.
"How about I watch?"
For a second, Draco said nothing, and then he smiled lasciviously. "Alright. You wish for a show, mon âme? Then I shall give you one."
Without another word, he leaned down and kissed her passionately before crawling onto the huge bed with grace a panther would kill for. The sheets whispered underneath him, and his towel hung rakishly low on his hips. He slid in between Blaise's legs and ran soft kisses up one silk-covered thigh, his nails following the same path on the other. Blaise shivered but didn't wake, lost deep in dreams, and Draco's grin grew as his lover hardened under his ministrations. A pink tongue darted out, licking a wet trail up the cloth over Blaise's erection and darkening the fabric while ripping a low, throaty moan from his throat.
Blaise's eyes fluttered and he started to say something, but Draco slipped his mouth over the head of his cock, the silk still between their flesh, and any words that might have spilled from between those full lips turned into a strangled scream. His fingers dug into the mattress as his hips bucked, and more of his length disappeared down Draco's throat. Indigo eyes opened wide, clouded with lust, and he mewled when Draco pulled back up, softly scraping teeth over him and dragging the silk along his sensitive skin. Slender, elegant hands pulled the sheet down, slowly revealing inch after inch of perfectly formed porcelain flesh.
Then Draco's frosty lips resumed their task, worshiping every piece of delectable Blaise that was laid out before him, and gaining one whimpering groan after another for his efforts. Silver slid over creamy thighs, leaving wet trails from the still-damp strands as Draco moved and Blaise trembled. Draco slowed his pace, the strokes of mouth and tongue turning languid, and his hands gripped Blaise's hips, holding them down while his icy nails bit into the other's skin, thin trickles of blood welling to the surface and spilling over. Blaise moaned, clutching a fistful of mercury hair as those sharp nails continued downwards, leaving smeared red trails on flawless white flesh.
His length was swallowed to the hilt once more in a sudden, violent move that forced the first true scream from him and caused his pupils to split, his eyes to glow. Wrapping his index finger and thumb around the base of Blaise's shaft, Draco continued his assault mercilessly, until his lover was shaking from head to foot, his own nails having lengthened and ripped through the mattress underneath him. The hand still in Draco's hair tightened, causing Draco to growl around his cock, which would have undone him then had Draco not tightened his grip. Heat pounding through every cell, Virginia wondered why in the fuck she'd never thought to do this before.
Whispered, husky pleas spilled from Blaise's lips, shameless and utterly dissolute, and she knew Draco's control wouldn't hold up much longer against those fervent French entreaties. She was right. After another minute of exquisite torture, Draco drug nails down Blaise's inner thighs at the same time he swallowed him whole, releasing his restraining grip. Blaise screamed, and kept screaming, as Draco poured dark magick into him through his mouth and stretched his orgasm out until it was nearing unbearable. Then, slowly, he released him, smiling when he saw that the glow from Blaise's eyes was almost blinding and his body was trembling uncontrollably.
Purring appreciatively at the sight of complete and total debauched beauty that Blaise presented, and slowly lapping up the small rivers of blood that wound down his lover's milky flesh, Draco wrapped a hand around Blaise's length again, letting another pulse of magick return him to full hardness. A shudder passed through his form, and his hand once again wrapped itself in Draco's damp hair. A tug had familiar skin sliding against familiar skin, and their lips met eagerly. Teeth nicked tongues and both hissed in delight before Draco found their positions reversed. A smirk curved frosty lips before it was kissed into bloody oblivion, and Virginia vaguely heard herself whimper.
Metallic hair fanning out underneath them and dusky, sable locks falling around them like a curtain of shadow, they contrasted and complimented each other beautifully. Their kiss turned ravenous and demanding, their hips grinding together in an age-old carnal rhythm, before Blaise leaned back and whispered a lubricating spell breathlessly. Pale, aristocratic hands wound around Draco's erection, coating it reverently in the warm, slick fluid until it glistened in the starlight. Their eyes locked and overflowing with dark, fierce passion, Blaise lifted up in one smooth movement and slid down onto Draco's cock without any more preamble.
Neither bothered to try and stifle their twin screams, and neither bothered with delicacies, their coupling hard and fast and primal right from the beginning. Nails sliced flesh with sinful abandon, and when Draco's hand encircled his lover's length once more, Blaise threw his head back and moaned wickedly, causing goosebumps to chase over Virginia's skin delectably. Their sleek, muscled forms writhed together, wanton and unrestrained, and it was by far the most erotic thing she had ever seen. She knew they were close when both extended a pale, slender wrist to the other, and keen teeth and lips latched onto the offerings lustfully.
Eyes glazing and epinephrine running amuck within them, Draco's free hand dropped to Blaise's hip, fingers digging into the wounds they'd made and causing them to bleed anew. Rocking and twisting and moaning low in his throat, Blaise met Draco thrust for thrust as their bodies slammed together fiercely and lovingly, their skin practically vibrating from the undiluted ecstasy engulfing their bodies and souls. The pleasure peaked and the Marks flew open, swamping Virginia as the full force of their rapture hit her dead on. All three screamed ferally for what felt like an eternity, their spirits joining into one for a glorious, exalted moment.
Finally, lethargically, they sank back into themselves, purring contentedly, and Virginia found only enough strength to drag herself up onto the bed with them. Both reached out instinctively for her, taking her hands and pulling her towards them, covering her skin in soft, lazy kisses and caresses. Sated and more than a bit euphoric, they stayed that way for a long time, comfortable and silent, simply enjoying each other's presence. In the backs of their minds, they knew that they would be expected downstairs in a little while, but for the moment, nothing existed for them but silky skin and gentle breathing, and that was all that mattered.
.....
Hermione rose early, bathing and dressing quickly, constantly aware of the dog's eyes on her. Pansy had told her its name was Mephite, and that it was a male. She didn't know whether to be grateful for its presence, since it kept the Manor from killing her, or to resent that she needed it at all. Sighing, since she knew it was pointless to dwell on it, she made a few last minute adjustments to her robe and her hair before heading down to the breakfast hall. It's where they'd eaten the last couple of mornings, and she was pretty sure that she wouldn't get lost this time. It was quite embarrassing to ask Mephite for help, and she didn't relish the thought of doing it again.
Fiddling with the sleeve of her velvet robe, she pondered the last few days. After their picnic at the cove, they'd all gone on a short (well, not short, but they sure as hell hadn't covered even an iota of the grounds) walk around the gardens and the forest, a group of the large, striped cubs going with them and prowling around happily. The next morning, she'd found the wardrobe in her room full of new clothes, robes, boots, and stockings, and had wondered at first if someone else was taking the room over, and if she would be relocated. Then a house elf had appeared, telling her that the new items were hers, courtesy of the Malfoys. So she had asked Ginny.
"What?" The girl had mumbled, having been a bit distracted with one of the giant cubs that had grown quite attached to her.
"I said that the wardrobe was full of clothes and that the house elf said they were mine. I figured that there had to be some sort of mistake." Hermione had told her again, and Ginny had smirked.
"There wasn't any mistake." She'd replied. "It's a common courtesy for guests who don't have...appropriate apparel. They may not like you, but, as they said, they have an image to maintain. Therefore, Narcissa said it wouldn't do to have you running around the Manor in anything less, even if you're not pureblooded."
The girl's voice had been factual and neutral, not in the slightest bit insulting, but Hermione had felt a sting anyway. Of course they had done it for propriety's sake, nothing more. It had been foolish to hope otherwise. So, ever since, she had simply done her best not to get in anyone's way, and to stay as far away as humanly possible from Draco and Blaise. Which was more difficult then she'd thought it would be. It seemed that one or both were around every corner, and there was no way avoid them that day, seeing as the Weasleys would be arriving any moment. Narcissa's announcement had not gone over very well. Not very well at all.
The Slytherins had frozen, looks of horror on their features, Snape had started cursing underneath his breath, Ginny had paled and looked slightly ill, Draco had threatened never to speak to his mother again, and Blaise had simply put his head in his hands, as if life had just hit a new all-time low. It was respected and understood that Silana and Narcissa were friends with Molly, but to have the entire Weasley family over for a whole week, maybe more? To Hermione, it seemed like asking for trouble. Actually, it seemed like asking for homicide. If everyone ended up in one piece and unharmed at the week's end, Hermione would request that it be made a national holiday.
There was, however, very little chance of that. The Weasley men were known to be in-your-face and incredibly stubborn, and Arthur always tried to be a father to everyone younger than him. She didn't even want to think about what would happen the first time he tried to lecture Draco and Blaise. Hopefully they would be able to leash their tempers for Ginny's sake, if nothing else. And what about the girl's brothers? Who knew what they might say or do? Not to mention the other Slytherins. They were just as stubborn, and prideful and arrogant on top of that. Looking at it from every angle, Hermione could only come up with one conclusion. This was going to be bad.
Looking up as she finally reached the breakfast hall, she smiled gratefully when the rich smells of the different foods wafted to her nose. Glancing around, she was slightly surprised to see that no one else was there yet but for Anton, who was pouring something in his goblet of orange juice from a hip flask. Picking up one of the platinum spoons, he swirled it around a few times, mixing the liquids, before taking an experimental sip. Studying him from the doorway, she wondered at the unfairness of it all. Had she been a pureblood, that handsome, elfish face might smile at her like it did for his friends, might laugh with her as if she were important.
Had she been a pureblood, he might take more notice of her then just as something to insult. He might have accepted her like he had accepted Ginny. He might have even liked her, dated her. He might have loved her, might have been able to help her forget...No, she didn't need to think about that. She mustn't think about him. But Anton might have been able to. He might have been able to wipe away the loneliness and desperation, might have been able to respect and care for her as she desired to be respected and cared for. But she was not a pureblood and never would be. Which meant that he would never look twice at her except in disgust.
"What are you doing lurking, Granger?"
Startled, she snapped out of her musings. "Nothing." She replied, walking into the room, which was lit up brightly with the morning sunlight that was streaming through the clear walls. Sitting across from him at the ebony table, Mephite crouching beside her, she searched for something to say, suddenly not in the least bit hungry. "What did you put in your drink?"
"Excuse me?" He asked, lifting a dark eyebrow. She cursed herself and her stupid mouth, but plunged on.
"Your drink." She clarified. "What did you put in it?"
"Bourbon, if you must know." He said, not even looking at her, but at the goblet in his hand.
"And...that's good?" She asked, determined. If she wanted any of them to even sort of like her, then she was going to have to at least try.
"To me. Most don't like it with orange juice." He said distractedly, as if he didn't even really realize that he was talking to her. Wondering what was preoccupying him so badly, but too scared to ask, she kept to the topic at hand.
"Isn't it a bit early?"
"Hah." Anton snorted, still not looking up as he drained his goblet and filled it again. "On this day? No, it's not early at all. I'd bet a hundred galleons that that everyone in the house has a drink or two this morning."
"Maybe it won't be too bad." She said, and he did look up then, his eyes slightly foggy, and she realized that that had definitely not been his first drink.
"Who are you to say that?" He asked, drinking half of his newly made beverage in one gulp. "You can't be looking forward to it. The whole reason you're here is because of that fool you hang out with."
"Yes, well, who else should I hang out with, then?" She snapped, losing her cool a bit. "You?"
"You wish, Granger." He said, his words beginning to slur slightly, black hair falling over one hazel eye.
"You're drunk." She said, hoping to change the subject back to what it had been.
"No, I'm not." He argued. "But hopefully I will be soon."
"Well, that's delightful, dear." Pansy commented, sweeping into the room in a swirl of blue silk. Anton watched her closely as she came to sit next to him, while Hermione watched him. "Pour me one or two of those, if you don't mind."
"Oh, yes, coming right up, master."
"Now, Anton, what did I tell you about being sarcastic?" She questioned primly. "It doesn't become you."
"Doesn't it?"
"Oh, alright. It does. But not when I'm the target." She sniffed. "Don't be mean. I didn't get much sleep last night, and I'm quite irritable enough as is." She said lightly, but Anton's brow wrinkled with worry.
"Are you still..." He trailed off, shooting a meaningful, distrustful look at Hermione. Pansy nodded.
"Yes. Sometimes. But they're not as bad anymore." She said truthfully, and Anton visibly relaxed.
"Thank the gods." He murmured, finishing off his drink and mixing one for Pansy and yet another for himself. Unable to help herself, Hermione had to ask.
"Doesn't that thing ever run out?" She asked, motioning to the small flask.
"When all I poured in it is gone." Anton said dryly. "It's magic, you know." He rolled his eyes and Hermione decided to be quiet. Narcissa, Snape and Silana came in, followed shortly by the other Slytherins, and it was another ten or fifteen minutes before Draco, Ginny and Blaise finally came down, looking much more relaxed then everyone else.
"Morning." Ginny said, stretching like a cat as they went to take their seats.
"Morning." Everyone chorused back, grinning at their mussed hair and slightly drugged looks.
"What took you so long, hmm?" Pansy asked with a playful sneer, and Draco threw piece of sliced mango at her head. She barely dodged it, sticking out her tongue after it the floor with a small 'splat'.
"Draco Malfoy." Narcissa said sternly, losing a battle against a smile. "That wasn't very gentlemanly of you."
"Hmph." He scoffed, snapping his fingers. A house elf appeared and bowed low.
"Yes, Master Malfoy?"
"Wine. Old. Strong. Now." He commanded, his eyes a bit unfocused. The house elf nodded and vanished, reappearing a moment later with a bottle in hand. It sat it within easy reach on the ebony table and left with another bow. Grabbing it and pouring three goblets, he handed one to each of his lovers and downed his own at once, as did they. They actually looked a bit more steady afterwards. Then Draco started cursing.
"What is it?" Snape asked, and Hermione couldn't help but stare a bit. Snape looked...different. It wasn't anything major, just that his hair wasn't greasy and his skin didn't have the unhealthy pallor that it usually did.
"They're almost here." Draco said, and no one needed to ask who he meant.
Hermione noticed that the emeralds in his signet ring were flashing oddly, and figured that that was how he knew. They all rose reluctantly, but for Narcissa and Silana, both of whom looked pleased that their friend had arrived, yet slightly nervous as well, casting sideways glances at their sons as they all made their way to the entrance hall. Everyone's faces had settled into neutral masks by the time that they'd reached the doors, and a wave of Draco's hand had them opening. They passed under the awning to wait in the snowy grass, and it was less than a minute later when a Dementor walked straight through the wall and Draco went out to meet it.
She didn't know if any actual words were spoken or not, but the Dementor kneeled after a moment and kissed Draco's hand instead of his cheek. Then it was gone, back through the wall, and the gates vanished. One of the Malfoy carriages rolled through, which she knew Narcissa had arranged to bring the Weasleys in, and it pulled around the spherical drive briskly. It came to a smooth stop, and the doors opened at the slightest touch of Blaise's fingers. She'd noticed how the Manor and all that came with it seemed to listen to Blaise almost as much as it did Draco, and wondered if the reverse was true at Blaise's main estate.
"Narcissa!" They heard Molly exclaim before she flew out of the carriage. "Silana!"
"Molly!" Both women said happily, and they all three embraced.
The other Weasleys filed out one by one, Arthur first, then Fred and George, Bill and Charlie, and, finally, Ron. All looked a bit shell-shocked, much as she figured she herself had looked after the stunning ride through the grounds, the fright at the front gate, and then the vision of the Manor itself. Then, to her eternal surprise and Slytherins' scorn, Harry came out after the rest. Blaise looked as if he was about to either commit murder or lay down right in the snow and scream, Draco's lips twisted into a furious, disgusted sneer, Snape looked resigned, and Ginny just looked as if she'd rather be somewhere else entirely.
"Mother." Draco hissed, spinning on Narcissa, his eyes flashing dangerously. The woman actually took a step back, but didn't lower her eyes. "You cloaked him from me. That's why you were so adamant on the carriage. Easier to conceal."
"Draco, baby, he was staying with them. They couldn't very well have left him there."
"And that is my problem how?" He asked viciously. "Never mind. You want him here bad enough to lie to me? As you wish." He said, his eyes and face utterly blank, and Narcissa flinched.
"Baby..."
"Forget it." He said dismissively, his voice cold, and he turned to Harry. "You make one move against anyone or anything while at my home, and I will turn the entire place against you faster then you can blink. You do not want to know what it is like to truly be hunted." Then he spun, snapping his fingers three times, and a dozen house elves answered immediately.
"Master?" The lead elf inquired, and Draco gave it an icy smile.
"Escort our guest to their rooms. They're Virginia's family, and to be treated with the utmost respect. See to it that they have everything they need, and escort them to the east wing exit in time for brunch. That will be all." He told them, and they nodded and bowed, waiting patiently for the Weasleys. Narcissa was looking at Draco sadly, and she moved away from Snape, taking his arm.
"Come with me for a moment." She suggested, and Draco looked as if he wanted to snatch his arm away, but he stayed still.
"Of course, my lady mother." He said formally and frostily, and her shoulders drooped the minutest bit. They left after excusing themselves, and entered one of the many shadowed, lattice walkways, disappearing from view. Blaise stepped forward and the house elves bowed again.
"Are you ready to be shown your quarters?" He asked politely and aloofly, the host skills that had been ingrained into him from birth rising to the forefront. And he wasn't looking at his mother either, his eyes and expression devoid of anything but a detached, mild curiosity.
"That would be fine, dear." Molly said, looking at him with understanding.
He inclined his head towards her respectfully, even going so far as to give her a faint grin (which Hermione was almost sure was more for Ginny then anything else), before gesturing to the house elves. They moved forward at once, a few going to the carriage to retrieve their luggage while the rest motioned for the Weasleys to follow and moved toward the Manor. The Weasleys looked more than a bit anxious as they passed underneath the imposing doors, their freckles sticking out against their pale skin, and Hermione looked over at Ginny. The other girl no longer bore the freckles that her family was almost as infamous for as they were for their hair, and Hermione sighed.
She felt eyes on her and looked up and into Ron and Harry's stunned faces, and she couldn't help smirking callously at them. They were obviously much more than just surprised to see her there, and dressed in clothes that had obviously cost a fortune, at that. Flipping her straightened hair (which had been done by another marvelous little house elf) over her shoulder haughtily, she decided that they deserved to have it rubbed in their faces. It was Ron's fault that she was there in the first place, damn it, and it's not as if Harry had really stood up for her. He'd just gotten mad at the slight against their non-pure status, she remembered bitterly.
"Hermione?" Harry asked incredulously, both of them rooted to the spot, two house elves hovering nearby and waiting for them while the rest of the Weasleys disappeared inside, followed by Snape and Silana, who shot a last, apologetic look at her son. The Slytherins glared at the two Gryffindors, their eyes full of undiluted venom. Ginny moved forward, standing by Hermione's side, and she felt her confidence increase. If she had Ginny's support, then she had the others' support as well, as they would side with Ginny through anything.
"Yes, Harry?" Hermione drawled in her best Slytherin impression, silently congratulating herself when their eyes widened even farther.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Ron questioned harshly.
"Well, you see, I did have other plans. But, sadly, they fell through, and I was invited to spend Yule here." She said innocently. "Oh, and it's just been so much fun!"
"Fun?" Ron goggled, and she heard someone snicker quietly behind her before Anton stepped up to her other side, linking his arm with hers familiarly, as if he did it all the time, and it shocked her so badly that she almost lost her façade right then and there. Taking a deep breath after seeing the cruel, playful twinkle in his eyes and realizing that he was going to play along to bait Ron, she turned back to her Housemates.
"Well, of course!" She said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't ever want to leave, to tell you the truth." Their mouths dropped and she could feel Anton shaking with laughter before he cut in smoothly.
"It's been quite an...interesting few days." He said slyly, and she felt someone nudge him in the back. A hint of distaste momentarily flashed across his face, but it was gone in an instant and he turned to face her. "Isn't that right, Hermione?" He asked, and before she even had time to get over him calling her by her first name, his lips descended on hers. Her brain seeming to shut down, she kissed him back automatically, vaguely registering Ron's shout and Harry's yelp. Something coiling tightly in her stomach, she couldn't stop a small moan from escaping her as his talented mouth devoured hers, and then...it was over.
"What the fuck, Hermione!?" Ron yelled, and she dazedly turned around, Ginny's hand on her waist the only thing that stopped her from literally swooning. She'd been kissed once or twice before, silly, awkward fumblings in the dark, but never like that.
"Hmm?" She murmured, thankfully not seeing Anton turn and wrap an arm around Blaise's waist, discreetly wiping his lips off with the silk handkerchief the raven-haired young man handed him.
"You've got to be fucking kidding!" Ron continued to rant, his face as red as his hair, his arms flailing wildly. "How can you kiss that...that..."
"Watch your words, brother. Don't say something you'll regret." Ginny snapped, taking another step towards him. He turned a hostile glare on her.
"I mean everything I say." He spat spitefully, meaning to wound. But Ginny didn't react as she had when he'd turned away from her. Oh no, not this time.
"I hope so." She said acidly. "Because some words are unforgivable."
"I'll keep that in mind, Slytherin." He replied nastily. Blaise snarled, his warning clear, but Ron foolishly paid him no heed. "Now, if you'll mind your own bloody business, I have some shit to discuss with her." He grimaced, nodding towards Hermione.
"You will not harass her here, Ron." Ginny said, her voice steely. "Or I'll show you some of the Slytherin tricks I've learned."
"You'll try." Ron said derisively. "I don't think I've ever been more disappointed with anyone in my entire life as I am with you." He continued, oblivious to Blaise's growing fury. "A complete disgrace to our family, a Slytherin, and worst of all, you've become their little concubine." He taunted, and between one second and the next, he was flat on his back in the snow, Blaise on top of him with a boot knife at his throat.
"Want to repeat that, Weasel?" He crooned, electricity beginning to flow over his lips and skin. Ron said nothing and Blaise dug the blade in hard enough to draw blood. I knew something like this was going to happen, Hermione couldn't help thinking. But less then ten minutes after they'd arrived?
"No!" Ron finally choked out, his eyes fogging with instinctual fear. Blaise leaned in, his mouth next to Ron's ear and his words deathly serious.
"Can you not hear yourself when you speak? Ignorance flows from your lips like a sour wine. How many times since we've been with her have you had to ask for her forgiveness? How many times has she granted it? But always, always, you're back to much-lacking insults a moment later, hurting one you claim to love again and again. The only reason you're not dead is that she still cares for you, no matter how stupid I may think that is. Hell, she might even forgive you this time, although that is, thankfully, doubtful. But she might should you happen to show that little spark of intelligence that you must have buried somewhere very, very deep inside of you. But watch your footing, Weasel, because I will be watching you. And I can dig a grave no one will find."
"Blaise!" Silana's voice cut through the thick silence, and Blaise sprung off of Ron, his dagger sliding back into his boot between one blink and the next.
"What?" Blaise questioned furiously, no longer hiding his displeasure with her. She hesitated, then seemed to steel herself.
"You cannot attack the guests." She said, her eyes going to the thin line of blood on Ron's neck. "Oh gods, you didn't!" She said, going to the Gryffindor's side. Blaise's eyes hardened before going completely dead, and when Silana looked back up, her words died in her throat as she saw the look on her son's face.
"Yes, mother of mine, I did." He snapped, his tone as formal and cold as Draco's had been earlier. "And I'll do much worse than that if he ever calls my girlfriend a concubine again."
"She's his sister, Blaise." Silana said evenly, obviously fighting for control of her emotions. "I doubt he would-"
"He did." Ginny interrupted blankly, her eyes as vacant as her boyfriend's. Silana's gaze darkened.
"Be that as it may, that is no excuse to-"
"Silence." Blaise hissed, the signet ring on his hand flickering and pulsing, and Silana's mouth snapped shut as she dropped to her knees, her head bowed. Hermione stepped away from him as the air around him became charged and unsteady, and she realized with a start that this was not Blaise she was seeing, but Lord Zabini. It was quite terrifying.
"Forgive me, my lord." Silana intoned, just a hint of genuine fright lacing her voice. "I did not mean to offend-"
"I do not want fake sentiments from you, Mother." Blaise cut her off. "Nor do I wish to see you kneel before me, even now. I simply want to know when your friendship with a woman that you two just started socializing with, and that you despised before that, became so important that it eclipsed your loyalty and honesty to your sons."
"It didn't, we only wanted-"
"I know what you wanted."
"No you don't!" She said, lifting her head, tears that Hermione knew she would never let fall, not here, not now, glistening in her blue eyes. "We just wanted you to have a proper Yule for once!" She said, and Blaise stiffened.
"And what," he whispered quietly, too quietly in Hermione's opinion, "is that supposed to mean?"
"You know what I speak of." She responded, and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Do I?" He questioned softly. "Perhaps. But I never expected deceit of any kind from you two. Shows what I know, hmm?" Hermione really didn't like the edge in his voice, didn't like the layers of hidden meaning. Silana paled.
"No." She said, then more urgently as her son's face stayed completely still, "No. It wasn't like that. You know it wasn't. The little Potter brat coming along was unfortunate, but necessary. Please, Blaise, you know we would never...We're not like them!" She exclaimed, just as Draco and Narcissa reappeared out of the gardens. Draco's eyes took in the scene before him, his face intent, and he went to Blaise's side immediately.
"What is it?" Draco asked in a low, soothing voice, but for once, Blaise didn't respond to it, just kept looking at his mother as if seeing her for the first time. Eyes turning frosty and freezing, Draco turned to the last two house elves. "Take the two Gryffindors inside and heal that neck wound. Be discreet; do not let the other Weasleys see you." The house elves complied instantly, laying small hands on Harry and Ron and vanishing with them. "Blaise?" Nothing. "Severus?"
"Yes, Draco?"
"Why does my lover look as if he's seen a ghost? And why is Silana kneeling? What happened here?" He demanded, and Snape fidgeted a bit under his stare.
"They had the same disagreement as you and your mother, but unfortunately, it happened after Blaise was already quite enraged." Snape said, making sure to keep his voice impartial. Draco put two and two together quickly, and turned back to Blaise.
"Venir, mon aimé." He whispered, molding the front of his body against Blaise's as Ginny did the same from behind. "Nous volonté aller apprêter durant brunch, et j'volonté expliquer tout." Blaise let himself be led away, not so much as a glimmer of acknowledgement in his eyes, as if he were somewhere else entirely. The three of them disappeared, Silana rose shakily, and Hermione tried to put her swirling thoughts into some sort of order. ((Come, my beloved. We will go prepare for brunch, and I'll explain everything.))
.....
Hours later, Hermione was fucking wasted. For brunch, they'd all gone about half a mile down a path to the east of the Manor, still inside the wall, and come to a cliff over-looking a beach. But not just a beach, oh no. A beach with a regulation sized Quidditch pitch that had had the Weasley males practically drooling on themselves. Draco had twisted the branch on a low-hanging tree, and a platform had slid out of the cliff face a few yards below them, then lifted like an elevator. They'd gotten on, somewhat nervous until one of the twins had nearly fallen off and it was discovered that there were wards around the platform.
A huge feast had been laid out upon blankets on the sand, cushions were spread everywhere, and there was a rack of towels and swimsuits waiting for their usage. That had surprised them until Narcissa had told them that the water was always warm, almost hot, unless Draco willed it differently. Apparently, even this part of the property answered to him in some way or another. Heat shields had been thrown up for their comfort, and Draco and Blaise had led everyone on a short, to-the-point tour of the Quidditch shed (which was more like a house), telling them that they were welcome to use it and the pitch whenever they wished to during their stay.
Then the Weasleys had seen the brooms.
"What is that?" One of the twins had questioned (she could never really tell them apart). He'd been pointing at a row of sleek, black brooms leaning in holders against the walls, and the Slytherins had smirked smugly.
"Those," Draco had informed him, "are the latest model. They don't hit our stores for another two or three weeks."
"Oh gods." Charlie had breathed. "They're exquisite. Can I see one? I'll be really careful."
"See one?" Blaise had repeated, and Hermione had just been glad that he was speaking again. Apparently Draco had succeeded in talking to him, as he'd apologized to a tearful Silana and kissed her on the cheek when they'd come back down. She'd refused to accept, saying that he'd been right and that they should have told them. No one had mentioned the earlier incident since.
"Yes." Charlie had answered slowly. "I mean, if it's alright, I'd understand if-"
"No, go ahead." Blaise had said, shrugging. "You can ride them if you want. Otherwise, the Infinities are over there." He'd added, pointing to another row of shining brooms against the opposite wall.
"Really?" Bill had asked, and so had ensued a makeshift Quidditch match.
Not bothering to watch, she'd gone back and sat on one of the many cushions, sinking into it and eating a bit of the finger food laid out, still not having gained her appetite back. Hours had passed in a peaceful lull, before the others had trampled back, their cheeks flushed and their eyes shining. The Slytherins had won (and toned down their playing a bit), but the Weasleys and Harry were so elated to have ridden the new brooms that they didn't comment about it, not even Ron. Although, if he had any sense at all, he wouldn't have anyway. Eating a late mid-afternoon lunch, everyone had then decided to go swimming.
Joining them, they had all grabbed a suit and gone back to the Quidditch shed to change. Thankful for the warming charms, Hermione had been more than a bit shy about going out in nothing but a skimpy bikini, but hadn't really had a choice if she wanted to get in the water. It's not as if she could have gone in with the beautiful velvet robes that they had given her still on. So she'd headed immediately into the waves, sinking down to her neck. Ginny had come out with her boyfriends, and Hermione had felt a twinge of envy. Ginny filled her own stringy green bikini out perfectly, curving and firm in all of the right places.
Draco and Blaise had also been quite a sight to behold, clad in nothing but baggy black shorts and tight, rippling muscles. Averting her gaze until they'd entered the water as well, she'd hung back and relaxed, watching as the Slytherins got into a water fight on one side of her, the Weasleys on the other. It had soon turned into a battle between the two groups, and it had seemed that no matter how far away she moved, she would still get splashed. Giving up, she'd ignored it, and they'd only left the water as the sun had started to sink below the horizon. A huge bonfire had been lit, and that's when the drinking had started.
No one had been spared, not even the adults, as every kind of liquor imaginable was passed around freely. First, it had been brandy, then whiskey, then cognac, then scotch and gin, then Sambuca and rum, then tequila, Sake, Armagnac...Then she'd lost count, the fire roaring and crackling, drunken laughter floating around her, her own melding with it. Ginny screamed, bringing Hermione back to the present, as Blaise tossed her into the air, Draco catching her before all three fell to the sand, snickering and giggling. Crabbe and Goyle were singing a lewd song, mostly empty bottles in their hands as they spun in circles around the flames.
They'd surprised her earlier when they'd come out to swim, as they were solid muscle instead of fat. Their robes apparently concealed quite a bit. Once their hair had been wet and slicked back, instead of shaggy and falling in their faces, she'd also noticed that they'd both become quite handsome, their cheeks slimmer then she remembered. But then she hadn't really looked at either of them in years. They were just sort of...there. But she'd definitely noticed them then. Pansy, Melody and Daphne sat at their feet, smiling and clapping, while Narcissa, Silana, Molly, Arthur and Snape were also quite sloshed, telling old stories and laughing uproariously every so often.
Bill, Charlie and Ron were alternately watching their sister and their parents, while having a heated debate over, shocker of shockers, Quidditch, with Harry, who had passed the heavily intoxicated point well over an hour ago. Fred and George had been mingling with everyone, going from place to place as the groups had shifted and changed, and she watched idly and blurrily as they sat down beside their sister and her lovers. They had soon struck up a conversation which she couldn't hear, but she could see them laughing when Draco and Blaise polished off their fifth or sixth bottle of alcohol, which should have been impossible, but wasn't.
At least not for them, anyway. She'd only had...Well, she didn't really have any idea. Too much, she thought distantly, not particularly caring. Then something caught her attention. Anton was sitting by himself as she was, watching the Slytherin girls as he opened another bottle of what looked like Black Death vodka and took several deep swigs before lowering it. After another moment of looking at them, he stood abruptly and started down the beach. He passed by, unnoticed by most, until Draco's hand shot out and caught his ankle as he made to scoot around them. Quiet words were exchanged and Draco's hand dropped.
An unreadable expression clouded Draco's eyes as he watched Anton walk away, and she almost thought it was something resembling pity, but that was ludicrous. It still worried her, though, and watching Draco definitely wasn't going to help anything, so she rose unsteadily to her feet. Leaning against the cliff face, she made her way after him, and no one noticed her departure, that or they didn't care. Being extremely careful not to spill any of her wine, she stumbled down a small hill before she caught sight of Anton's form again. She could see him swaying and listing even from where she was, and sped up as much as was possible without falling and busting her arse.
She finally found him in another cove, smaller then the one they'd had a picnic in a couple of days before, laying on the sand with the cloak he'd worn down to the beach spread out underneath him. Wondering if the heating spells went this far out or if it was just the liquor in her blood keeping her warm, she must have made some small noise, for his head snapped around. His eyes were completely glassy and unfocused, and it seemed to take him a few moments before he recognized her. He didn't say anything, and the alcohol making her bold, she walked over to him, sitting with him on the rich fabric and cocking her head to the side.
"Why'd you leave?" She asked, her words sounding funny even to her, and he rose up on one elbow wobbly.
"Why'd you follow?" He shot back, his words slurring much worse than hers, and she tried to think about how much he must have had to drink, but she couldn't concentrate very well, and she kept remembering the kiss he'd given her earlier.
"You shouldn't be alone." She said lamely, and even in the state he was in, he managed to look unbelieving of her excuse.
"No, really, Granger. What do you want?" He asked, draining another good portion of his bottle.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" Stall, Hermione, stall, she thought desperately, but her brain wasn't working right.
"Just answer the question." He said sharply, and she sighed, figuring what the hell. He probably wouldn't remember tomorrow anyway.
"I like you." She said, and instead of laughing, he went eerily and utterly silent. "A lot. I have since...I guess for a long time." She finished, and he did speak then.
"Liar."
"I am not!"
"Yes, you are." He said simply, dully. "You're obsessed with Dray, everyone can see that." She froze, not wanting to even think about that, but not wanting to lie to him either.
"Draco is with Ginny. He'd never even consider it."
"And what makes you think that I would?" Anton questioned harshly. She flinched, her sluggish brain realizing that this probably hadn't been the best idea, but she plowed ahead anyway.
"You kissed me earlier."
"Because Blaise thought it would be amusing." He stated, and her heart sunk to her feet. "As did I."
"Oh, that's really nice, you know." She said sarcastically, taking another long drink of her wine.
"Maybe. But it's the truth." He said unfeelingly. "It was funny."
"I'm surprised you could even stomach it, then." She snapped. "Me being what I am, and all."
"What? A mudblood?" He snorted. "Fucked plenty of them before." She reeled as if she'd been hit.
"What? But I thought we disgusted you."
"You do." He said in the same bland tone. "But there's nothing wrong shagging one of you once or twice as long as you don't reproduce."
"That's...that's..." She wanted to say that it was disgusting and degrading, wanted to tell him that he was a complete arse, but something stilled her tongue. The memory of his snaking into her mouth.
"It's what?" He asked, finishing off his bottle and tossing it carelessly on the sand. But what popped out of her mouth was not what she had intended. Or maybe it was.
"You'd shag me?"
Silence. Then, "What!?"
"Would you shag me?" She asked again, the small bit of what sentience she had left asking what the fuck she was doing. But she didn't even really know. She was listening to her body over her mind for once, and she didn't even want to stop.
"Are you asking if I will, as in now, or if I would, as in ever?" He asked with narrowed eyes, and she took a deep breath, plunging headfirst into something that she knew she would most assuredly regret.
"If you will, as in now." She blurted, and those stunning hazel eyes widened.
"You're fucking crazy, Granger, do you know that?"
"Right now? Yes." She answered, downing the rest of her own bottle and tossing it next to his. Growing ever bolder, she started unbuttoning her robe, which she'd put back on when they'd left the water. He was still in nothing but loose, low-hanging green shorts, the moonlight playing over his sculpted abs and making her breath catch in her throat.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, and she kept opening her robe inch by inch.
"You said that my kind was good enough to fuck. So fuck me." At any other time, she would have been mortified at the words spilling from her lips, but alcohol apparently really was an inhibition destroyer. Her robe slid from her shoulders, leaving her in only the aqua bathing suit that she still had on, and his eyes darkened.
"You wanna be fucked, Granger? Fine." He growled, and he was on her in an instant, pushing her back down onto his cloak.
His lips crashed into hers, the sweet taste of the vodka he'd been drinking clinging to his mouth, and she kissed him back eagerly. His fingers felt as if they were burning into her skin as they traveled over her exposed form, and her suit was off and being thrown to the side before she even knew it was gone. Moaning as his fingers closed on her nipples, she vaguely wondered why she'd held off on doing this for so long. But then again, most of the boys that she knew didn't have the first clue about what they were doing. Anton, undoubtedly, did. Running her hands down his back, she arched into him as his lips moved to her neck, sucking and nibbling.
Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord, pulling him closer to her as their mouths met again, tongues dueling hungrily. Passion and lust engulfed her, and she realized that she'd only thought she'd experienced them before. It had never been remotely like this. This aching, wanting, needy desire to be filled, to be fucked into a stupor of nirvana. He ground his hips against her, her throaty groans ringing through the cove unhindered as his mouth and hands explored every inch of her. A fingertip ran over her clit and she screamed, his lips quickly moving back to hers to stifle it as the finger began moving faster, and she finally broke.
"Please..." She whimpered, bucking her hips against him and trying to get more of that glorious friction. "Just be careful at first. I've never done this before." Slightly amazed that'd she'd even been able to form a sentence, she didn't notice him freeze at first.
"Fuck. You're a virgin?" He asked, starting to pull away. She clamped her arms around his neck, her legs twining tighter, and stopped him.
"It doesn't matter. Please." She begged again, her body practically demanding release.
"This means nothing, you do know that?" He asked bluntly, but at that point, she really didn't give a fuck.
"Yes. You'll still despise me tomorrow. Now, come on." She said, pulling at his shorts as her liquor-dazed brain's protests finally spluttered and died out in favor of getting his pants off, preferably as quickly as possible.
"As long as you're not expecting more." He said, and was decidedly gentler after that, though no less intent. He cast a contraceptive charm, and she was glad one of them had remembered.
Then he seemed to be everywhere, dragging moan after moan from her before he slid the first finger inside of her. She was so wet at that point that it didn't hurt at all, just made her want more. When another slid inside her, there was a moment of pain, but it quickly faded as his thumb worked her clit, his fingers moving in and out of her deliciously. A minute later, she was screaming as she came, his mouth covering hers once again while her body shook from its first real orgasm. Slightly stupefied by the intensity of it, and still quite horny, she felt only a sharp, agonizing stab as he pushed into her in one smooth, controlled thrust.
Biting back a scream of a different sort, tears springing to her eyes, she tried to relax. Then his hands smoothed down her sides as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear and slowly began to move. He was obviously experienced with taking a virgin, as well. She was sure it should have hurt more, but the pain disappeared almost immediately, and soon she was grinding into him, feeling better then she ever had in her life as his pace picked up, his length pounding into her. He lifted her legs over his shoulders, shifting his hips, and she was sure that she was going to die from sheer bliss as she moved to meet his thrusts.
Her vision started going hazy around the edges, and choked cries poured from her in an unbroken chain as the ecstasy increased beyond what she'd thought possible. His mouth descended on one nipple, his fingers on the other, while his other hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clit again with knowledgeable ease. That undid her, and even his mouth couldn't fully muffle her shrieks as her world exploded and crashed back down, dragging her along for the ride. He tensed above her, his biceps flexing and his stomach clenching as she tightened around him, and he hoarsely whispered a name as he came, jarring her back into lucidity.
"Pansy."
Then he collapsed next to her bonelessly, not even realizing what he'd said, and she wondered why she wasn't more upset. Figuring that she would be when she woke up, as the liquor had already proved that it was causing her to behave completely out of character, she snuggled up next to him, pulling her open robe over them both like a blanket. Her chest started to hurt the more she thought about what he'd murmured, her eyes stinging, and she resolutely pushed the memory away. Exhausted, her body still extremely giddy and satiated, she let her eyes fall shut. Her last thought before unconsciousness was if Draco knew about Anton's true desire, if that was why he'd given him the look that he had as the other young man had left earlier.
.....
Waking with a jolt, Virginia wondered how long she'd been out. Looking at the moon, she determined that it hadn't been that long, an hour or two at max. Her boyfriends were still talking to the twins, but all four looked over when she bolted upright off of Blaise's lap. She'd had that dream again, the dream that had been haunting all three of them every time they closed their eyes. Hair like rosewood, skin like bronze. Dark, green-speckled eyes that held such peace within their fathomless depths. Something tickled at her memory as it always did after one of those dreams, and she felt like pulling her hair and screaming in frustration.
"Ginny?" Fred asked. "Are you okay?" He was trying his damnedest to focus on her, but it wasn't working very well. They'd all had waaaay too much to drink. But at least no one had been killed.
"Fine, fine." She slurred, still not sober in the least. "Just a strange dream, is all."
"Alright." He said, a second before he hit the sand with a thud and started to snore.
Staring for a moment, she took Blaise's bottle out of his hand, letting swallow after swallow of the fiery liquid run down her throat. George had gone silent, staring at a shoe (whose shoe, she had no idea), while her boyfriends were all wobbly, looking at her with as much concern as they could muster. Considering the slight rocking from side to side, the crystalline quality of their eyes, and the open, amused smiles on their faces, they were just as shit-faced drunk as she was. Which was actually quite comforting in a way. Looking around, she saw most everyone else either asleep, or talking in low, quiet voices that were almost drowned out by the sound of the waves.
Except for two.
"Where are Anton and Hermione?"
"Hmm?" Draco murmured, having been distracted by a lock of her hair that he was twisting around his fingers.
"Anton, Hermione. Where are they?" She asked again, trying to get her thoughts into some sort of comprehensible order. It was a lot harder then it sounded. Maybe the rest of Draco's bottle would help, she thought absently, before her boyfriend's voice made her recall why she'd been trying in the first place.
"Anton went..." Blaise paused, seemed to have to think quite hard about it, then pointed. "That way. Maybe."
"When?"
"No idea, really." Draco supplied. "It's safe, though, so what's it matter?"
"He shouldn't sleep out there alone." She said, and they nodded reluctantly, which made her giggle, because when they moved, there were two of each of them. "And what about 'Mione?"
"Who fucking cares?" Blaise asked. "Because I'm more than positive that I don't. Maybe she'll fall off one of the cliffs." He didn't sound as if he was in the least bit joking, and the reality that that could very well happen hit her suddenly.
"Damn it!" She cursed, trying to stand.
"What are you doing, cher un?" Draco questioned, trying to help her but nearly falling over himself.
"Going to find her."
"What?" He asked, his voice laced with the distaste he felt for the idea. "Why?"
"Because what if she does fall off a cliff?" Silence. "Exactly. Gods know, everyone'll say we pushed her or some shit. And Mephite didn't come with us since she was supposed to stay with one of us all night. She can't be out in the grounds alone, something will get her."
"Fine." Draco sighed. "I really fucking hate her, you know. And I really fucking hate that she's even here. Have I reminded you today that you owe me for eternity for this?"
"Yes, Dray." She said as the three of them finally managed to get to their feet. "On the hour, every hour."
"Good." He replied, trying to steady her as she almost fell back down. "And I've decided that Blaise owes me too."
"Me?" Blaise asked incredulously, blinking a few times and nearly stepping on George, who was still very involved with his inspection of the mysterious shoe.
"Yes. You let her bring her. So it's your fault too."
"Let her? You know how she is!" Blaise said indignantly, waving at Virginia. Draco snickered.
"You're so whipped."
"I'm whipped? I'm not the one who gave into mummy and let Harry bloody Potter stay over!"
"You're going to pay for that." Draco growled, and Blaise sneered.
"Like I did earlier? Pity."
"Umm, hello?" She cut in, wondering if the beach was really moving or if it was just in her head. "Search mission, remember?"
"Search mission?" They heard Pansy call out from their left. "Search mission for who?"
"Anton." Blaise said resolutely, since he obviously still didn't give a fuck if they found Hermione Kissed and soulless.
"Anton?" Pansy said, looking around blearily. "I thought he was with you."
"Nope. We'll be back."
"I'm coming with you." The girl said, and Melody, Daphne, Crabbe and Goyle echoed her. They rose in a clumsy, staggering pile, which drew some of the Weasleys attention, and finally roused George from his stupor.
"Where are you going?" George asked, and Virginia told him they were going looking for the two who were missing.
"Hermione?" Ron said, but Virginia ignored him. "Well, I'm coming too, then."
Still ignoring him, they set off down the beach in the direction her lovers had seen Anton go. Besides the three of them and the other Slytherins, Ron, Harry, Charlie and George came with them while the others slept on undisturbed. Draco and Blaise continued to bicker playfully from either side of her, and they'd finally made it about forty yards (gods only knew how), when they found their first clue. Hermione's hair tie, which she'd borrowed from Virginia after they'd gone swimming. After another few stumbling yards, filled with many slurred complaints and off-the-wall comments, Draco stopped, looking around them thoughtfully.
"I think I know where we might find Anton." He said, and Blaise glanced around as well, before something flickered in his glazed eyes and he nodded.
"Yeah, that little cove." He said, and they started out again, her boyfriends leading the way. They did come to a small cove a little while later, and her lovers motioned everyone back, while the three of them crept up as best they could in their conditions. They could have seen fine had it been pitch black, but the moonlight lit everything up more than enough even for normal human eyes. What they found shocked the shit out of all three.
"Oh gods! Hermione!? And...and...Anton!?" Virginia hissed in a startled whisper, not realizing how well her voice carried against the stone walls.
"What?" Several people behind them demanded at once, and charged forward.
Crabbe and Goyle made it first, their mouths dropping before they snapped shut and started smirking in a way that only males can when finding their friend in such a situation. Charlie and George were next, and their stunned disbelief was almost palpable. Then came Ron and Harry, Pansy and Melody. Harry's eyes almost bugged out of his head, Ron turned green and red at the same time somehow, which was an accomplishment even for him, but Melody and Daphne...Melody and Daphne looked at Pansy anxiously, wringing their hands together in a most un-Slytherin-like way. Virginia felt like doing much the same. She was the girl's best friend, after all. She knew her secret.
"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed, his voice echoing wildly and causing them all of them to jump. Anton shot up from a pallet that appeared to be made up of a velvet robe and cloak, his wand in hand, before he saw Draco, Blaise and Virginia. Falling back with a groan and clutching his head, he let his wand fall to the floor. Virginia glanced at her boyfriends, and saw that they looked torn, half-seriously amused and half-nauseous as they looked at who their friend was with.
"What?" Anton asked groggily, while Hermione was still out cold.
"What the fuck did you do to her?" Ron shouted, drawing Anton's attention to the others in the room. Virginia felt her boyfriends stiffen when they saw Anton catch sight of Pansy's stricken face, and started to wonder...But no, he couldn't...Could he?
"I didn't do shit to her that she didn't fucking want." Anton snarled. His wand was back in his hand in an instant, and he threw half of the cloak over Hermione as he rose, wrapping the robe around his waist like a towel. His eyes were still as misty as everyone else's, but he got to his feet a bit quicker then any of them had managed to do. Probably had something to do with the wide difference in circumstances.
"You're lying! You-"
"He isn't." Virginia cut in, watching her friend closely. Funny how being shocked nearly to death had made her head clearer.
"Why does it even matter?" Anton snapped, glaring. "None of you have ever given a shit about any of my other meaningless little one night stands."
"This is Hermione!" Ron yelled. "Not one of your bloody sex toys!"
"Are you so sure of that?" Anton asked silkily, his words only slightly off. "What are you scared that I could have her on her knees if I wanted too kiss her like I did this morning if I wanted to loved her if I wanted to" He said malevolently when Ron moved forward. But he didn't do anything when Pansy did, seeming to snap out of her horrified trance.
"You fucked her?" She hissed, her eyes shining with an odd, eerie light. "You fucked her? If you wanted to take a dip in the plebian pool, you could have chosen someone, anyone, else." His own temper rising, the alcohol still in his bloodstream fueling it, he bit back.
Anton's mood took a change at that, "What the fuck do you care, Pansy? You're gonna get mad at me for something that you've done countless times? You're gonna get mad just because you happen to dislike this one a bit more than most of the others of her kind? What was it you always told me? 'Fuck freely but love purely'?"
"So, what, you're gonna get with her?" Pansy questioned, her nose scrunching in disgust while something else entirely was silently screaming from inside her brandy-colored eyes. Anton sneered, his own eyes speaking volumes to those who knew him well.
"Haven't you been listening at all?" He stressed in a low whisper, as if being as quiet as possible was the only way to stop himself from losing it completely and screaming. "Why does that FUCKING CONCERN YOU I SLEPT WITH HER LAUGHED WITH HER FELT HER HUG ME JUMPED OFF OF A BROOM FOR HER I HEARD HER LAUGH I HELD HER IN THE VERY WATER YOU WERE SWIMMING IN HELL IF I LOVE HER-" He paused, as if debating on whether to say more, and Virginia was distantly aware of her boyfriends throwing aural shields up as if they knew what was about to happen and had no intention, even while drunk, of letting the Gryffindors hear it.
"If you love her what?" Pansy demanded, and Anton stalked forward, listing only the tiniest bit.
"I-" He started, but then Hermione stirred. Pansy's eyes flew to her, filling with rage, and Virginia swore that she heard her boyfriends cackle delightedly, dropping the shields, she snarled at them and hit them with power and they flew back. When Pansy sprung without another word, driven by instinct, slamming into the other girl and pinning her to the ground.
"P-Pan-"
"Shut up!" One of Pansy's hands was around the girl's throat, the other holding her arms above her head. "I could kill you, you know. No one would blame me, or even know. I'd walk free, and you'd rot in a hole somewhere, finally leaving us all the fuck alone. But I won't. Because what do you think it's going to be like now? Look around, little mudblood, because too many eyes have seen this. Too many have seen the Head Girl whore for one of our own. Too many now know that the lion let itself be broken by the snake. Do you know what they call people like you? What they will call you? Slytherin's slut. The other Houses aren't as open with casual sex as we are, and you just broke a whole slew of their cardinal rules. Have fun bearing the weight of your new title, bitch."
Suddenly Pansy was against a wall in the cove and Ginny's hand was around her throat "DONT CALL GER A SLUT OR A WHORE" Ginny said her eyes like fire "you're not going to touch her Pansy besides Anton AND Hermione agreed to this what are you mad that your little Anton fucked her instead of you" Ginny said the last part in a baby voice Pansy's eyes filled with fear "Grow the fuck up" she said in a snarl "oh and any of you tell anyone about this and I won't hesitate to drink all of your blood" she said turning to the group "and so what if he was to date her huh?" Ginny said turning her head slowly towards Pansy "would that be so bad him fucking her loving her caring for her?" Ginny said in a deep voice. Anton met Ginny near Pansy
"True" Anton said to everyone's shock "it wouldn't effect you in the slightest what if I loved the mudblood?"
Everyone stared in shock. Ginny threw Pansy to the ground and picked Hermione up carrying her bridal style but her robes wrapped around her Blaise and Draco running towards Ginny knowing that things are never going to be the same.
.....