Author's Notes: Dear Scarybearhair, I had a lot of fun, trouble and muse abandonment with this story. I truly hope you enjoy reading it and adore my take on Lucius Malfoy ( and thanks for forcing me to Google vore LOL seriously? Gross!) hahahah (prompt to follow story as to not ruin it for everyone, but I think the recipient will know which of their prompts I chose just from the title!) To M, V, S and N thank you for all your help and pushing when I whined and carried on like a chook! :D To my wonderful beta, thank you ever so much as per usual!
Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling, the rest of the rubbish belongs to me! :D
She should have listened to that nagging feeling in the depths of her stomach. That tiny niggle that you push away and ignore, to branch outside of your comfort zone, to experience something new. With a grumble, she tugged at the hem of her dress, which was far too short, too revealing and too clingy. How she'd been talked into this, she didn't know- well that was a lie, several begging owls from Harry and one extremely threatening one from her host, had her at this ridiculous event, feeling unimaginably uncomfortable, merely to keep the peace.
Shifting from one foot to the next she followed the glittering paper lanterns, which seemed oddly out of place in the middle of the day- to the back garden where she could faintly hear glasses clinking and laughter. So this might not be so bad after all...
"It's about time you got here!" A voice hissed behind her and Hermione yelped as perfectly manicured fingers dug into the soft skin of her arm. "You're the last to arrive, I almost had odd numbers!"
"Merlin forbid your party be disturbed by my late arrival, Pansy," Hermione retorted and shook off the furious witch. "How did you know it was me?"
"You're wearing Greengrass' shoes and she wasn't invited so..."
Hermione flushed. "She found the dress for me too, it's a bit-" she tugged again at her hem, "a bit much, don't you think?"
Pansy looked her over with a critical eye. "It isn't what I would expect from you, Granger, but it works. Plus no one is going to know it's you anyway, so why are you concerned?"
"About that-" Hermione started but was quickly cut off by Pansy dragging her towards the party.
"It's simple, Granger. This is a party, call me strange but I like my guests to be able to enjoy themselves without fear of the Prophet finding out all the sordid details."
Hermione frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. What is the purpose of having a party if no one knows anything about it? I thought you lot preferred to be on the front page."
"And by you lot you mean ex-Death Eaters?"
She flinched. "No, I meant social people."
Pansy snorted. "Social people?"
"Oh be quiet." Hermione huffed. "I recall that Harry and Ron said your parties were fun and I don't know, I wanted to give it a go."
"Potter and Weasley?" Pansy peered down at her. "What do they have to do with this?"
"They're not here?" Hermione swallowed hard when Pansy shook her head.
"I wouldn't invite a pauper and the Auror Queen to my home, my ancestors would turn over in their graves."
"But it's all right for me to be here?"
Pansy smirked. "I'm willing to overlook your… less than savoury blood to make a friend happy."
Her smirk widened. "Look just have fun, Granger. I know your massive brain can barely understand the concept, but have a drink." A long flute was pressed into her hand, filled with a luminescent blue liquid. "And enjoy yourself." She threw over her shoulder as she sauntered away.
She eyed the glass warily as the words of her former Professor rang in her ears... Never consume anything you haven't seen prepared. But this was Pansy, her sometimes friend, more frequent enemy; she wouldn't poison her would she?
"Well hello there."
Groaning she shook her head and lifted the glass to her lips. "How is it possible you are here?"
"I'm always here."
The drink was cool to the touch but warm as it slid down her throat, causing her eyes to water. "Oh my goodness what is this?"
The wizard laughed, his long tanned fingers drawing patterns on the glass, spreading the tiny droplets of moisture against her hand. "A little enjoyment." He smirked and she wanted to smack him hard, but refrained barely.
"What is it?"
"A lovely little concoction." His fingers wrapped around her wrist, bringing the drink to his lips. "It makes you susceptible to things... you might not have been before."
Hermione's eyes went wide. "She drugged me?" She hissed. Pansy was going to die, slowly and painfully she would kill that witch.
"Well that wouldn't be fair now would it," he murmured. "Not all the guests are as uninhibited as I am."
She snorted and batted his hand away. "Uninhibited is that your new fancy word for office whore?"
The wizard laughed and slapped his hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Are you jealous?"
"Me?" She snickered and gave her half empty glass to the serving elf. "You wish." She dragged her nails along his chest, covered only in a thin white cotton shirt, feeling empowered when a small whimper fell from his lips. "You do don't you... wish I was jealous?"
He tongue darted out to lick his dry lips and he nodded.
"Such a pity... I like my wizards less- used. Goodbye, Adrian."
With a spring to her step she sauntered away, not even bothering to conceal her laughter as Adrian stood gobsmacked behind her.
"That was awe inspiring." She jumped and spun around, almost losing her balance were it not for his large strong hands. "Never have I seen a witch resist the charms of Adrian Pucey."
The first thing she noticed about the wizard presently holding her tightly against his body was his smell, it was intoxicating, manly and something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. "What was the point of Pansy insisting we wear masks if we know each other's identities?"
His lips curved into a smirk and his hand pressed firmly in the small of her back. "Hmm only a select few are privy to everyone's identities."
The purr in his voice sent shivers down her spine and she was certainly at a disadvantage with this tall, powerful wizard. "Are you insinuating you know my identity, sir?"
He merely smiled and tucked her hand into his elbow. "Shall we have a game of croquet before lunch is served?"
Against the voice now screaming in her head to run away and hide inside the house until this bizarre party was over, she didn't really have much to lose, so went willingly into the pit with a very intriguing snake.
"You are quite the popular witch," he said softly and handed her a mallet with pink trim, sparing a glare for those gathered around to watch the young woman.
"I'm not a pink kind of girl, sir."
The wizard's lips twitched and he reached for the next mallet. "Perhaps you are more suited to green?" He pressed it to her hands, wrapping her shaking fingers around it.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare. She wanted to reach up and touch his mask which was elegant yet plain black with a hint of green satin around the edges and the most beautiful silver around the eyes, the thread seemed to shimmer and swirl in the brilliant sunlight. "I can see green is your colour."
"Ahh is your mind a jumble of thoughts, my dear? Are you trying desperately to learn my identity?"
"I am still confused as to why Pansy insisted on the masks. If I am being honest, I would have been happy to come without it."
His left brow lifted ever so slightly. "Are you certain, my dear, that your long held prejudice would not get in the way of truly knowing someone? Could you look them in the eye and see past their misdeeds and crimes or would you hold onto your wand just that little bit tighter?"
She sucked in a breath and held onto the mallet tightly. "You presume to know me, sir, and you couldn't be further from the truth. I hold no prejudice, I do not look down on others for their blood or lack of magic I treat all equally."
"It is your turn," he whispered and moved behind her, his lips mere inches from her ear. "Have you played croquet before?"
"No... but I have seen it played many times," she responded and lined up the ball.
"Gentle now." His arms wrapped around her body, his hands clad in the finest leather covered hers. "Softly... touch the ball softly." Her breath caught in her lungs and she found her heart beat quickening. Swinging slowly the clunk of the mallet hitting the ball seemed to echo through the garden, his hand not once leaving hers. "Hmm well done... what a lovely- swing you have."
She flushed, the red stain creeping up her neck and attacking her face, and she was never more thankful for the elaborate mask that protected her. "It's your turn."
He smirked slowly and without taking his eyes from her hit the ball. "So it was indeed, would you care for another drink?"
Hermione swallowed thickly as his hand travelled up her arm and rested against her neck, gently applying pressure. "I can obtain anything you desire," he whispered and leaned towards her. "Anything you desire, I can make yours."
Her mouth was dry as the heady scent from his cologne invaded her senses. Who was this wizard, was the drink affecting her so greatly that she couldn't find the strength or the will to push him away? "I desire..." She paused to wrap her hand around his. "You..." His eyes widened and his smirk deepened. "… To remove your hand from my body, sir."
"You heard the lady!"
Hermione groaned. "Really, Adrian, I can handle myself thank you."
"Yes, I believe the lady was indeed handling herself quite well." Despite his obvious annoyance at her request, her masked wizard remained by her side, his hand no longer on her neck but more comfortably touching the small of her back.
"Do you think you're going to win this?" Adrian hissed and for the first time since she'd known him, he was showing true fury.
"I always win, Pucey. But if it's a battle you're after...you know the grounds."
Beneath his mask, his eyes flashed dangerously. "I warned you that she was who I desired and yet here you are still trying to take what is mine."
"Excuse me just a moment!" Hermione protested and would have stamped her foot, had she been a child. "I belong to no one and if anyone is going to decide whom I spend my time with, then it is me! You have no claim to me, Adrian Pucey."
The other wizard smirked victoriously but Hermione turned her indignation to him. "And who do you think you are? I don't even know you, so my desire to spend time with you is non existent." With a huff she pushed her way between them and stalked off towards the large assortment of sandwiches.
"Really, Granger, one would think you would be grateful."
Why did she agree to this? "Can you just go away, Pansy? I'm about to leave."
Pansy's brow rose but other than that she didn't respond, instead choosing to select a sandwich and nibble on it daintily.
"Did you hear me? I'm leaving."
The witch gave a small sigh. "Granger, I can't force you to stay and unlike others I won't harp on about what a cowardly act this would be leaving me with odd numbers when I invited you out of the goodness of my heart. So I'll just say- you'll regret it if you leave."
"That's all you're concerned about, numbers? How about what I am feeling, how uncomfortable I am?"
Pansy smiled and placed her sandwich back on her plate. "I've known you a frightfully long time, Granger, and you've always sold yourself short. Whether it be with those two nut jobs you call friends or attempts by others to get you out a little. I didn't invite you for me-"
"Well I did need an extra person- odd numbers do not sit well with me as you well know. I invited you because this is a tradition; this party has been carrying on for centuries. Not just by my family, each Pureblood family takes turns in playing host, every ten years."
"I don't understand, Pansy. You hold a garden party, with odd little drinks every ten years?"
"It isn't just any old Garden Party, it's a little bit of fun between strangers. Imagine knowing you could do anything and no one would ever know who you were, you could be anyone, do anyone." The smirk was back and so was the sandwich. "It's a tradition and one I'm not going to let you break.
Plus, you don't have a choice- try leaving, Granger, and see where it gets you."
Hermione's nostrils flared as anger flooded her body. "You cannot keep me here against my will!"
"You chose to come- I didn't force you."
Eyes darting back and forth, she didn't bother to give Pansy a response before she stormed off to the garden hedge and tried to open the gate. A pulse of magic rushed up her arm and she was pushed back. "Wards?" She whispered and reached out, only to be pushed back yet again. "Parkinson, you bitch."
"Try not to blame Miss Parkinson too much; she was merely carrying on a tradition. I, myself, hosted this exact same party over three decades ago when I was fresh faced and still believed in the dreams of my father."
Hermione turned slowly, willing her body to remain calm and not respond to the wizard before her. There was no mistaking the dangerous spark that ignited by his presence and she wanted to ignore it, to force it away and pretend it didn't exist. For her world was so much safer without it, her life free of complications but ever so lonely. "So you are quite old then?"
He chuckled and reached out his gloved hand slowly to touch her cheek. "Not by wizarding standards, by Muggle I suppose you could call me middle aged."
"My father is middle aged," she responded tartly, snorting softly when his eyes narrowed.
"Trust me, my dear, when I say what you will feel for me, is nothing that your father could invoke."
"I beg your pardon?" She blinked rapidly and took a step away from him, noticing for the first time his robes. They were made of the most luxuriously spun silk, the thread she was certain real silver, like his mask and tiny little snakes adorned his coat buckles. "Tell me, sir, would you be behaving quite so inappropriately if I knew your identity?"
He smirked. "My shameless behaviour knows no bounds when my heart is taken by one so excruciatingly lovely."
The air left her lungs as his finger trailed along her jaw. "My dear, you best run."
Shaking the haze from her mind she could hear something in the distance, getting louder and louder as it approached. "Wh-What is that?"
"A bell," he murmured, taking a deep breath as blue and yellow sparks ignited above the party guests. "It is a signal- that the hunt has begun."
"Hunt- what hunt?" She cried, her chest constricting in panic.
"Run..." he whispered. "Run and I promise to catch you."
Hearing screams in the distance she didn't need to be told again and took off as fast as her legs would carry her wearing these ridiculous shoes. She was going to murder Pansy Parkinson. A hunt? My gods they had reverted to ancient times, this would be a massacre, a cull to weed out the weak, leaving only the powerful and superior. It would be a cold day in hell before she allowed herself to be captured, by any Pureblood wizard.
She had witnessed two witches so far be taken, thrown over the shoulders of the wizards acting like cavemen and Disapparated away. Hermione was torn between fright that invaded her soul and anger which threatened to overwhelm her.
"Who do you want to catch you?" A voice whispered beside her, causing her to almost scream.
"I don't want anyone to catch me," she hissed back. "Why would you?"
The witch laughed softly. "I've had my eye on Pucey for the longest time, my mother says if all goes well I could be the next lady of their house."
"I'm sorry what?"
"Oh bother, you don't want him too do you? I mean I know he's simply gorgeous I could imagine dozens of witches wanting him, but I did see him first."
Hermione had to pinch herself, just to make sure she hadn't bumped her head. "You want to be caught in this barbaric hunt?"
The witch giggled and stood up in the bushes. "Barbaric it might be, but who wouldn't want to be caught?" Sparing a glance for Hermione who was still kneeling in the bushes she smiled. "But you'd better be quick or all the good ones will be gone."
The sun was starting to dim and the warm air slowly chill. She had been there for a while now, the screams had disappeared, the noise all but vanished and now she hoped it was safe to exit her hiding spot. Slowly she crawled to her knees, bracing herself against a large trunk of a tree, struggling as her legs buckled, having gone numb after such a long time kneeling in the bushes.
She took a step, gently touching her delicately adorned foot to the small cobblestone path and breathed a sigh of relief. It would appear everyone had gone, the 'hunt' as it were; seemed to be over. The tension left her body and she stood tall, brushing the loose bits of grass from her dress. "Damn, Parkinson, if you think I'll let you get away with this..." She seethed and started towards the sparking lights of the mansion in the distance, fists clenched at her sides, hair flying about her shoulders, anger so intense she failed to notice her surroundings or the lone wizard she was rapidly approaching.
"Aurors would be too good for her," She muttered and folded her arms across her chest as a cool wind rushed around her. "Maybe I'll use a poison..." She smiled wickedly and lifted her wand, intending to Disapparate the remaining distance when a slow, chilling applause filled her ears. "What?" Spinning around she yelped and stumbled backwards, holding her wand steady on the wizard, ever so casually leaning against a tree, his hands clasped together mid clap.
"I never thought you- Miss Granger would have thought to use a poison... how utterly Slytherin of you."
Holding her head high she kept her wand pointed directly towards the wizard. "Why must everything revert back to Hogwart's Houses? We are adults, not children playing Quidditch or trying to win house points. Your Slytherin trait is simply resultant from my anger at being duped."
"How exactly were you duped, my dear?" He took a step towards her and another, her hand shook, his magic almost palpable in the small wooded area.
"I did not come here to be hunted or treated like a piece of meat. I am a human being!"
"I think you have been misinformed," he whispered. "I do not intend to harm you." Taking another step, he was so close too close. This maddening wizard had her wanting to slap him, just to feel his cheek beneath her palm, to see if it was as soft as it looked.
"Do-Don't come any closer."
"Or you'll what?" His voice was taunting, his posture- superior and arrogant and so familiar she ached.
"I'll curse you." Hermione's voice wavered as he took another step and was now within arms reach.
"I don't believe you will." His hand reached out, leather clad fingertips, tracing her cheeks, moving along her mask. "Is it wrong for me to want to see you- see the real you? So vulnerable yet so powerful, so full of anger yet compassionate. I want to understand you, want to sift through your mind and consume your light."
She sucked in a breath, ragged and cool as it burned through to her lungs. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because my mind has not been my own, since I realised you were the witch I needed to acquire."
"I am not a belonging," she whispered and turned her head away as he leaned closer.
"Hmm no, you are so much more than that. However you will not refuse me."
"And if I do?"
Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips pressed against her ear, his dark chuckle sending shivers down her spine. "You will not turn me down."
She shouldn't feel so helpless; her mind shouldn't be awash with sordid and wicked thoughts. She was stronger than this, wasn't she? She could resist this wizard... but the question really was- did she want to? Did she want to always be that girl with the book, to always be the last chosen, to sit on the sidelines and watch her friends have lovers, and wives, children and fulfil their dreams? Was this her chance to be wild, for just one moment in her life, one brief moment in time that she could cherish forever?
"No," she whispered and moved slowly to face him. "I probably won't."
His eyes went wide and she almost laughed had his hand not been moving dangerously close to her bare back. "Well, I confess that was easier than I imagined."
"Easier than a few hours chasing me?" She did smile at that and when his hand grazed her arm she shivered, not from the cold but his warmth, his comforting, yet arousing warmth.
"I was prepared to use a very inventive spell, to get you to comply." He smirked and yanked her forward, her wand hand going limp over his shoulder as he pressed against her, lips moving quickly along her neck.
"Of course... I wanted you and if I had to bend your will to that of mine- then so be it."
Hermione should have been disgusted, but the thought of someone taking charge for once, to lead her into the world of wickedness sounded oddly attractive to her ears.
"Am I right in assuming you would not be adverse to my advances?" Breathing against her ear, his lips quirked when she shivered and clung to his robes. "Hmm what a surprise, my dear."
"You talk entirely too much for someone who is persistent in his capture of me. What do you intend to do now, sir, or shall you be like a Slytherin Seeker catching the snitch? Once you have it, you're at a loss at what to do."
"Now now," he whispered and dug his fingers into her bottom, causing her to wince. "Let us not bring Hogwarts rivalries into this again."
Moving her hands along his robes she wrapped her fingers in the luxurious fabric. "You give yourself away, sir, one should not be obvious with their alliance or it could be construed as a weakness." Tugging at the tiny snakes on his coat, she gave a small yelp when they hissed and bared their fangs. "Hmm nasty little buggers."
"Stop talking..." he said softly and ran his fingers down her bare arms. "I did not choose you for the hunt, simply because I desire to hear you speak."
"There is no reason to be rude, sir. I could leave and then where would you be?"
He tilted his head to the side, regarding her. "Do you believe I would go to all this trouble to let you leave? Understand this, my dear, you are not going anywhere."
She pursed her lips and was about to retort when she was cut off abruptly by the touch of his mouth to hers, gentle and soft, sweet yet sinful. "Hmm I think I like you better this way, Miss Granger, shocked into silence."
Hermione glared up at him and steeled her nerves and arousal- this man was maddening to the point of distraction. She was torn between slapping him and... standing on her toes she wrapped her hands in his hair, the colour she could not decipher, his glamour was far too powerful. "To not care about who you are, frightens me. To want to touch a man that is a stranger to me, makes me want to run away and hide. But I cannot deny this attraction and I'm not sure I want to." Her eyes drifted to his lips, then back to his eyes. "You frighten me."
"One should not show weakness, it can be used to your disadvantage."
She nodded and pulled roughly on his hair, dragging his face even closer to hers. "You smell lovely." Words were no longer necessary as she gently pressed her lips to his, feeling his response almost instantly between her thighs.
"As much as I am enjoying your attentions..." He broke away from her, and she followed his lips, hungry for more. "I do not wish for Miss Parkinson to be able to blackmail me, with evidence of my fornicating on her grounds." Without waiting for her to respond, her gripped her arse and allowed his magic to Disapparate them away.
Her breaths were ragged as his body found hers in the darkness, she knew instantly her clothing had been removed and shivered as his hands moved slowly up her legs, tender and persuasive as he moved between her thighs. She could feel the course hairs from his chest and legs touching her skin, rubbing against it. "I am going to take you now," he whispered, the warm air from his mouth, ghosting across her breasts, peaking her nipples almost painfully. "I have waited a very long time for this moment, you will not deny me."
Ashamed at her obedience but far too aroused to object, she whimpered out a pathetic 'I won't,' before nudging him further up her body.
"I've dreamt of this day, Miss Granger, to have you beneath me, begging for me, calling out-" he paused, his fingers again moving along her mask, prying it slowly from her face. "Hmm such a pity you cannot see me... but I can see you, my dear, and how lovely you look on your back, waiting for me to take you."
Hermione clenched her hands in the cotton sheets beneath her. Losing control was not one of her favourite things to do, in fact she hated it, hated not being the one giving orders, taking command of a situation. But how could she refuse? Not only was he touching her body in places only she knew about, but she had been poisoned by Pansy and if she was correct, it was a compulsion brew, to force her to obey, so really, she couldn't refuse even if she wanted to.
"Take me," she whispered and felt him stiffen above her. "What did you think I would protest? Fight you perhaps, did you want that?"
"No, I do not want you to fight me."
"But you don't want me to know who you are? How is that fair?"
"It is not fair," he responded and kissed her jaw. "It is not fair that I should see your hair, tangled in my fingers as I ravage your body. " His lips moved to her cheeks, one kiss then two. "It is not fair that I will see your mouth scream out in pleasure, whilst all you see is darkness." He kissed the corner of her mouth and she groaned in frustration, moving her hands down his back and gripping his arse tightly.
"Now it is your turn to stop talking," she whispered fiercely and wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs.
Growling softly, she felt his hair cascade onto her chest as he yanked her hands free and pinned them effortlessly above her head. "Do not think to take control, madam. This is my bed and you shall do as I wish."
Her whimpers seemed to fuel his arousal, ardent and aggressive in his attentions; his lips caressed her nipples as his body finally became one with hers. He was big, almost too big but he entered her slowly, allowing her body to adjust before pulling back and slamming into her, the sharpness of his hips tearing into her thighs.
She groaned, gripping his legs tighter, welcoming his body into hers, and dragging him closer and closer. He was unyielding in his assault on her body, squeezing her wrists until her hands went numb, biting down on her breasts, painful yet far more arousing than she'd ever felt before. "Gods..."
"Just as I imagined..." He grunted above her, moving his hand to caress her face.
"Don't... stop..." She pushed up to meet him, her body awash with shivers and her breathing ragged.
"Your mask hid your true beauty," he murmured into her ear, panting as his arse clenched and body rammed forward into hers. "You will never hide it from me again."
Overwhelmed with arousal, her back arched and a groan fell from her lips. "Oh my..."
"Hermione!" He cried out, the powerful magic surrounding him peaked and sparked the sconces in the lavish bedroom. She gasped as pleasure wracked through her body, spiking across every inch of her.
He stilled above her, nestled within her body. Her eyes opened slowly and the air caught in her lungs. Freeing her hand, she reached up, unsure whether this was his true glamour, or really the wizard she'd just given herself to. "No..."
Grey eyes opened lazily, his lips forming a smirk she knew only too well. "It appears I have been inadvertently revealed to you."
"It would appear that way." She whispered as her fingertips touched his cheek, damp yet unbelievably soft. This wizard had been a main player in many a sordid fantasy over the years, and to have it become a reality was a little surreal. "Is this a trick?"
"Do you wish it to be?"
His eyes were guarded and his face no longer calm but full of suspicion as she answered, "No, I do not." And it was the truth; he was an intelligent, powerful wizard and despite his past, had done a lot for their world, helping to rebuild homes, donating his time to the Ministry. Would it be so wrong to indulge in someone so different to her? Wrapping her fingers in his hair she pulled him closer. "I am oddly pleased and a little frightened by my reaction to you. Pansy should never have given me a potion."
"She did not," Lucius responded with a smirk. "It was a ploy, my dear, she was aware you would not be susceptible to advances of any men, so she gave you a warming potion."
Fury filled her body as she blinked, then blinked again. "So my reaction...?"
"Was purely yours," his voice rumbled against her cheek like a purr. "Does that frighten you, knowing you reacted so strongly to me?"
"I did not know it was you," she protested, moaning softly and pushing away her anger at Pansy as Lucius' hand moved up her inner thigh.
"But you do now... and does that change anything?"
"No. But I suppose this means I cannot hex you in public anymore?"
"No, my dear, we shall leave the hexing for my dungeon and for our... more adventurous play." With a wicked smirk he whispered a spell and extinguished the sconces. "Now for some rest, for I plan on extending my hospitality for a little while longer."