Green, crackling flames popped up and down in a troupe of ardent dancing fingers within Draco's cavernous fireplace, releasing spores of embers which terminated in the cool brick foundation around it's hearth.
The bonfire began to run bankrupt of logs as the evening waxed into the early morning hours, causing a bewitched fire poker to first quiver in it's hook. Then it floated with unnatural sentience to a horizontal angle, informatively prodding it's singular jagged tooth at Draco's ankle for attention.
When the stabbing against his tall white spats grew to a full blown stubborn menace, Draco swatted the poker away in a huff, only for it to return with greater enthusiasm than before.
Jab, jab jab jab...
Audette inhaled her champagne and proceeded to cough through giggles as he clutched at the poker. The belligerent stick argued for it's freedom obnoxiously, resulting in Draco being dragged to the lip of the couch cushions in a tug of war.
He finally let it go with a crooked smile cast to her, apparently finding her giggling to be infectious, "Yeah titter yourself hoarse. Think that's entertaining, do you? Just wait until the fire runs dry in the night and that scrap piece of metal comes for your eyeball in bed."
"I do find it delightfully whimsical, the sight of you quarrelling with a heliotropic fire poker," Audette observed in amused fantasy, her fingers to her lips, yet containment efforts were futile as usual.
Draco gracefully raised one veiny hand, wandlessly commanding four picturesque slices of chopped hardwood to float diplomatically from the iron rack to their unfortunate incineration in a perfect triangular pile.
She sucked at her champagne again, which was experientially flavored with sumptuous notes of flowers and berries. After their visit to Cava, she could only imagine how pricey the bottles were that they were blasting through recklessly, "He only means well, Draco. Perhaps we should define him on account of his tenacious regard for professionalism. Let's see...how do you fancy Peregrine the Piercing?"
She much appreciated that pipping little metal object who had begged for more wood to stab away at, which equated to increased warmth in the icy superstructure. Immediately as the wood began to smolder, "Peregrine" savagely attacked the new carcasses conflagrating in his personal crematorium.
Draco apparently preferred the opposite temperature, scowling momentarily at the joy of the festive poker before he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, snorting at her silliness, "Yes well Peregrine the Piercing can count himself Stanley the Snapped if he thinks just because you're here he can act out so insolently. At the rate he'd prefer we refill the hearth, this room will be as hot as an oven, and there'll be no remaining forests for as far as the eye can see."
Hmm...Audette had a peculiar feeling that she and Peregrine were going to look out for each other.
Even though a wonderful buzz was coursing through her veins - comprising a mixture of emotional gaiety for their engagement, highlighted by a deluge of champagne - Audette's nervous system was shivering at the notion of hooking up with her handsome hector, an inevitable event which felt like it was barreling towards them at the speed of light.
She chewed on her bottom lip sporting a bashful grin, her eyes vacantly lingering on a 1908 copy of The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare, by G. K. Chesterton left on the coffee table central to two empty bottles of bubbly.
But alas, no, time was not expiring at the speed of light, and this they were reminded of by a symphony of clocky qwerks issuing from the grand piano behind.
A most ridiculous battle over who could tick louder paraded onwards between the mantle clock and the metronome, but nothing, nothing, could be louder in the room aside from Draco's unrecognizable, enthusiastic energy.
It was as if he'd gone back several years to a time when he smiled naturally, and often. A time when he was not actively searching for love and relief, and humanly elements of peace which were out of reach in the stars, but rather, felt quite content grounded on the planet he was actually born to live on.
His voice trilled ahead in a flood of loquacious coherence following suit their engagement, words and thoughts metaphorically pouring out of him much in the manner that an intertwined rainbow snake of handkerchiefs does from a tricky circus clown's throat.
The end of his open exchange and darling glee was no where in sight, and much in the manner that a child stares at that handkerchief snake in awe as it keeps on coming and coming, she could not stop staring at how sensationally attractive he was when relieved of dwelling on the stresses of his Death Eater life.
Sadly, of the understanding that he would have to return to those gruesome horrors and pressure to perform, and knowing full-well that the warm glow of gaining her hand with concrete assurance would also fade from such an immense delirium, she made no move that might possibly array his elation.
Instead, she listened to him rant, and responded with curious attentiveness.
The dreamy conversation protracted until she'd effectively vacuumed up all of the bright red strawberries he'd brought to ease her growling tummy from somewhere inexplicable in the Manor.
Then the mood came crashing down for Audette, as the echoing cry of the hallway demon returned in full force to pick at her brain with zero warning.
Little ROSE!
You left me to die.
Don't think about the corridor creature. Don't you dare spoil this evening, she shut her eyes for a brief second, the last scrumptious strawberry caught between her teeth.
Audette found herself gripping her fizzing champagne glass tighter and tighter, risking severing the brittle stem, as the half consumed berry fell from her mouth, and in an embarrassing plop fizzed to the bottom of the effervescent Parisian booz.
She frowned in a physical effort to peer down over her nose without craning her neck suspiciously. Thankfully, her mocking fiancé did not take heed of her clumsiness.
Draco's arm was weighing down her shoulders where they were snuggling intimately on one of his leather couches, his fingers swirling against her shoulder.
They'd just been discussing career ideas, as if either of them would ever live a normal life outside of Voldemort's slimy dictatorship, "I could if I was really keen on it. I could join any one of those leagues. Falmouth Falcons aren't so drab."
"How glib of you. If my husband becomes some superstar athlete I don't how I'll cope without ragefully suffocating him in his sleep. Haven't you amassed enough raving fan girls as it is?" she remarked in honest jealousy, jamming her elbow into his ribs.
There would be a murder alright, and Audette would be plopped down in Azkaban, bows and all, with a wagging finger in her face for taking out one of the slutty fanatic heathens stepping out of line.
Aware of just how green her eyes were - both in physiognomy and in jealousy - Draco placed his empty flute down on the central coffee table and leaned down to kiss her neck and jaw, "Never mind worrying, I will always ensure your spot in the limelight as my smokeshow of a wife. Eventually you will find your way to believe that the last intention on my mind is to hide away your association. Did I tell you the Ballycastle Bats recently sent me a scout's offer?"
She shut her eyes in forgetful swoon as he kissed her neck repeatedly, "I had just assumed you were scouted by all of the major leagues at this point."
"Let's just say I have my pick should I select Quidditch as a profession," he confirmed in haughty pride, "Fairly close to Castle Bellarose, the Ballycastle Bats pitch. Isn't the region named after your family's reign over the area?"
Suddenly Audette realized that Draco marrying the sole female heir to Castle Bellarose meant that the famous property - including it's Biodome of wonders - would soon belong to the tyrannical Malfoy family...as well as everything else the parasitic aristocrats had accumulated through social status over a millennia.
They were historically known to court romantically with only the finest aristocrats and royals in order to obtain increased position and prestige, amounting a cornucopia of riches beyond any other dynasty in the United Kingdom.
Once Audette was wed to Draco Malfoy in a binding contract, and Montgomery and Eloise were both deceased, the platinum-haired mafia would arrogantly absorb the great Bellarose empire as well.
No wonder she and Draco had gotten away with such crass and inappropriate behavior when they'd explosively escaped Cava that day - Lucius had no doubt turned a blind eye upon realizing the opportunity to suck up more power into the Malfoy brand.
Audette nodded in confirmation, lifting her svelte glass of bubbly to down it's sparkling roil in one uncomfortable go, soggy strawberry and all, "Mmmhmm. My boozy ancestor Bluebell Bellarose who was a raging drunkard, thought it would be a horrendously comical regional title. Needless to say, his staining ridicule has been removed from our family shield."
"Have you decided what your Animagus will be next month?" Draco pet her hair interactively, his blue eyes filled with glitter unlike any occasion she'd ever seen them sparkling so. He was clearly in love and deeply involved in the moment, a moment she had stopped partaking in with full operating capacity.
This was meant to be a happy evening shared between them...not governed by some putrid spirit beyond the chained doors.
But that decaying thing which had mimicked Theodore crawling out of a grave - narrating one that she herself had apparently sent him into - had successfully commanded her attention into a pool of venom that refused to release her from it's sticky black clutches.
Come on Audette, you can pull yourself together.
"I don't know, I'm afraid of any transformation to be honest. What if I should panic and transform into a chicken accidentally? Next thing you know...I'll be laying eggs, too daft to even recall my human life, or better yet return with an ugly yellow beak I can't shake," she admitted bleakly, her green eyes glowing from staring dismissively straight into the matching verdant flames ahead.
Draco tisked loudly, "Don't be ridiculous - you wouldn't be able to claw anyone's eyes out as a chicken. Possibly the least suiting creature by all measures."
When she fell into a silent lull with her head against his neck he finally caught on after a few more minutes of them cuddling there in celebration, leaning forward to meet her gaze seriously, "What's the matter Audette? You're trembling - tell me this is a simple matter of firewood, and not cooling enthusiasm."
His expression instantly began to twist with a predictable snarl of displeasure, and upon recognizing this dangerous shift in his demeanor she surrendered.
Holding up both hands demonstratively, she waved the vacant, tinted flute around, nearly clocking him in the face in the process, "No, nothing of that sort, but truthfully I am perturbed. There was something...horrendous beyond those forbidden doors you've chained. When I left to claim my petticoat, it...it taunted me ever so, and I-"
"-A boggart, nothing more. Come now, you're a fully grown witch," Draco flickered his eyes dryly at her, sighing as if Audette had just screamed childishly at the sight of a harmless spider the diameter of thimble.
Of course...
It was a silly old boggart - the first threat they had been introduced to in DADA when they where but thirteen. The magical beast in question had even been made into a hysterical laughing stock by Professor Lupin, despite Harry Potter characteristically ruining the activity for everyone before a single Slytherin could step forward.
Draco's nose scrunched tellingly, blinking slowly, probably conceiving the elicit nature of her personal experience, "It's...ancient, and...skilled...a permanent fixture that's been on this plot of land since before the building was erected. Unfortunately, a resident boggart is the slightest reason those doors are warded and chained - you may want to brush up on your defense skills if a boggart is all it takes to render you sickly."
"While that may be true it was unexpectedly vivid, and I am left battling a sensation of dreadful jejune," she whined, bouncing the edge of her glass against her chin.
You betrayed me, Theodore's lovely Italian diction had cracked with a mixture of familial agony and a tinge of unfamiliar demonic raze, the only giveaway that it was not actually him besides his rotting physical degradation.
A seed of doubt had been planted in her brain; had she betrayed him? After all, she was marrying his best friend, while in the background his world was tearing at the seams.
However as far as she had been informed, Theodore Nott had abandoned her of his own accord, and whatever result had transpired from that determined decision was his burden to bare, not hers.
"Well don't find yourself acting a watering pot over it's diabolic exaggerations. You know better than this," Draco ran his cold fingers tenderly up her bare knee and below the thin golden veil of her dress, and Audette proceeded to avoidantly bury explaining why she was so disorderly over the matter.
She bent her neck to angle guiltily away from his biting blue inquisition, sensing that he must have guessed the precise topic of her disconcertion. He was intelligent and discerning, and she was a terrible fib.
He squeezed her thigh, tiny waves of desperation laced with anger beginning to ripple from him as he confirmed just that, speaking in a patient but notably darker tone, "I am in love with you, Audette, but do not mistake me for a blind fool. Is it at all possible for you to meet me halfway on this momentous night, without constantly fascinating over Nott's welfare?"
He was right, and he was calling her out directly. And with a penetrating glare no less.
Forget the boggart, forget Theodore and all things which are forever in the past, she reminded herself, her mother's words of advice reverberating forebodingly.
Yes, it made complete sense that her greatest fear had been identified expertly by the boggart as either being the reason for Theodore's death and despair, or not doing enough to prevent it.
However it must be noted that boggarts were neither holy nor prophetic.
They miraculously unearthed one's deepest nightmares and mirrored them back in excellent Vaudeville design, portraying runaway imaginations originating from the darkest shadows of the mind where all sorts of poisonous possibilities of the future spawned in quixotic chaos.
What Audette had been shown - a scenario which had fulfilled it's duty to tangle like a thorny set of vines around her heart - was not true, nor was it guaranteed, and she did know better than to fall for such meta stunts.
Producing a cathartic exhale, she turned back to him and pecked his lips gently, whispering sweetly as she pulled away with a hand on his cheek, "I love you too, consider it forgotten."
Digging into the pocket of her bunched up jacket to retrieve the dowry, producing the infamous hue of purple velvet that had been trademarked by her family for centuries.
"The reason behind all of this trouble is my dowry; I couldn't bare to dement it's delivery," she placed the heavy pouch in his lap, shocked when he shot his eyes down to his pants and back up again with a boyish jeer - as if she were a cat delivering an undesirable mouse carcass to his pillowcase.
"I don't need this rubbish. How desperate do you think I am? The Malfoy's are the wealthiest family East of the Isle of Man. It would sit in a vault for centuries," Draco picked it up and with classy dignification pressed it back into her hand, folding her fingers around the monetary satchel, "Consider it an engagement present. We will open an account for you at Gringott's, I'll co-sign if need be."
Astounded, Audette unfurled her grasp with excitement, her viridian eyes flooding with gratitude. She had never been permitted her own banking account; merely provided treasures and supplies upon request.
That sack of daunting coinage now represented a lifetime of total and utter independence she had never imagined possible - quite the opposite of the symbolism it had beheld seconds prior.
"The valuation is one-hundred and fifty million galleons, Draco. You...you would do that for me?" she gushed in disbelief, sucking air in through her parted lips as if it could not be true.
He nodded a few times in suave reassurance, hooded eyes softening on her reaction, "Yeah."
"Are you positive? This is astronomical," Audette nearly fainted off the couch in consternation of the jackpot she'd just acquired out of the blue.
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I certainly don't plan to be pestered for constant handouts each time a fleeting desire strikes your fancy. You may tend to your needs autonomously and privately. Unless you'd prefer I take it."
"I prefer not," she giggled and mischievously clutched Montgomery's precious money against her bare sternum with both hands, as if Draco might rapidly change his mind and snag it away with his tongue like Jar Jar Binks to a bowled apple.
When she'd replaced the coin purse in the safety of her coat pocket, his thumb migrated from her thigh to toy with the striking engagement ring against her finger, then a daring smile bloomed on his pointy features, "Let's retire."
Now riddled with sensational thrill, Audette did not wish for the night to end so abruptly despite the late hour, "I'm far from enervated though."
His long eyelashes framed his dropped gaze as he chewed on his lip and twisted the ring in endless circles around her finger, "I'm quite restless myself. Sleeping..."
Like daggers his icy eyes shot up to hers; striking and suggestive, "...is not what I had in mind, darling."
"O-Oh, right," Audette was then left speechlessly gawking, her eyes searching his in frantic hope.
Drunk, and naked, had been the checklist he'd repeated.
Drunk had been checked off hours ago, followed by a quick penning in of another line item, Get Engaged, and now that just left Naked; sitting there with a blank square box and beady concentration, begging to be attended to.
Confidently, he leaned forward and drove her backwards into the couch with rogue kisses, gripping the leather on either side of her until she was flat on her back.
She hardly managed to spread her legs before he was fully on top of her, and she boldly slid a flat palm down the front of his pants to grope and rub at his bulge in anticipation.
When she yanked him by his belt buckle, he pulled away to smirk at her in satisfaction, "Ooh, feisty. So you are on the same wavelength."
Awash in a sea of her golden hair she nodded, and with that wordless interaction he jumped up and tugged Audette to a shaky stance, spinning her by her shoulders in a blinking twirl.
As his fingers slithered up her back she pressed off her heels and focused on the nasty Eurasian owl glaring it's two orange marbles at them in it's wrought cage, located within the depths of the shadowy bedroom in a corner of cobwebs and piled up texts.
Her fluffy locks appeared coiled around one side of her neck as his freezing fingers worked to unlatch the hidden zipper supporting her dress. After a long drawling zip it concluded at the base of her spine.
An immortal second stretched by in which she caught her breath, then he slid it off of her shoulders achingly slowly.
A ruffled thunk, and Audette was left smack dab in the center of a donut of expensive fabric.
She trembled in the frigid air of the gothic Malfoy Manor, clad in nothing but the set of lingerie she'd bewitched to disappear from sight under the revealing gown until it was removed, the only warmth sourcing from his rattling breath tickling her bare neck.
He slithered strong hands around her bare tummy and pulled her tight against him, both of them panting lightly in passionate anticipation.
Carefully he turned her back around and it was then that his jaw dropped at the sight of the unmentionables she'd bought specifically for him, silvery eyes flaring in the dim lighting.
The ivory white lingerie sent her skin crawling with anxiety, foreign to Audette by most measures. It was so outrageously revealing that one could not possibly argue there was any function to the undergarments aside from visual ecstasy.
In place of panties she had darned thigh straps with tight little white bows which displayed twinkling diamonds at the center, and a lace bra that was entirely permeable to her pink nipples with matching frostings of diamonds impeded around the filigreed edges.
She shyly covered the open front between her legs with both hands, noticing that his pupils had dilated twice their diameter in total shock.
Needless to say it was not the sort of outfit one wears without belligerent intent, let alone below the type of dress she'd arrived in.
He met her gaze finally after what felt like a million years of inspection, his eyebrows proceeding to raise interactively, "Well, well. This is quite the grand gesture. Don't be shy after all this effort."
He forced her hands apart, took one high in the air and twirled her slowly like a ballerina pirouetting on a music stand.
Audette shut her eyes in mild mortification, realizing he'd never seen her entire naked body in the light; only experienced it in tactile curiosity within the darkness of their Hogwarts quarters.
She heard him whistle low, "You're an absolute angel, Audette."
"Does that make you Lucifer?" she cooed up at him as the rotation finalized, her eyes drooping girlishly.
"Oh, I assure you I'm much worse sweetheart," Draco turned her world upside down then as he swept her off into the air by her bent knees, carrying her to his lavish Alaskan bed, all the while his gaze lingering on each square inch of her body.
He tossed her roughly and she fell into the mattress, then paddled backwards underneath the heavy comforter which smelled just like him; piney and musky.
A wave of his jet black wand put out every flickering candle in the room, save for the dismal fire in the hearth.
Articles of indescribable expense hit the hardwood flooring one by one as he undressed before her; first his tie, then his fitted jacket, followed shortly by his suspenders, collared shirt and golden belt, all the while staring at her like an apex predator preparing to pounce from a high vantage point.
...want to eat her alive...
She caught her breath as he let drop his trousers and boxers, revealing his rock hard cock in the shadows which she'd come to anticipate as going to be painfully delightful.
He crept into the bed beside her and wandlessly commanded the velvet curtains to shut.
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"Is this alright?" his scalding silver eyes fell on her contemplatively.
She scanned down his toned chest and arms over the comforter, reaching towards her encouragingly.
"More than alright. This is well overdue," she reacted by climbing over him, wrapping all of her limbs around his rigid body for extremely intimate kisses, their nude bodies intertwining sensationally. When they were good and tongue twisted he toyed with the clasps of her stunning bra to quickly break free her breasts.
Once he'd dragged off the bedazzled lingerie top he pressed his cold fingers into her shoulder so to guide a now quite trembling Audette onto her back, rolling with her under the sheets in a frenzy of French kissing and limbs.
"You're so unbelievably innocent - I'm going to ravage you mercilessly," Draco spoke heavily after a few long minutes of lusty humping, his pulsing cock sliding between her legs desirously.
He'd better.
His hand roamed up to pet her cheek with his thumb, "Did you reach climax, that one time with Nott?"
"No," she shook her head against his lavish pillow.
Her voice was so breathless and tiny that he paused and met her eyes wearily, but a glint of satisfaction sparkled there nonetheless, "I'll make sure you arrive, just breathe."
Audette brushed his platinum locks back in rapid spurts which were far from sexy movements, trying in futile effort to calm her wild panting, "I'm alright, I'm alright...just nervous."
His hand moved up and down the outside of her thigh in silky swirls, eyes vividly caught on hers, "Try to relax. Pull on my hair when you're ready for me."
Oh god, was he...?
"Okay," Audette trembled as he kissed her cheek and down her body, her jaw grinding anxiously.
This insecure worry was quickly obliterated once he started. She glanced down to see long lashes batting over his shut eyes, framed on either side by white bows from her scandalous thigh straps, recalling that the sensation of his minty tongue was not disappointing at all.
Bending her knees inwards to lock his head in place she arched her spine off the mattress.
When he lifted up enough to shockingly meet her gaze she hung her head back sheepishly and stared up at the bed canopy, little ripples of warmth and pleasure radiating out from the center of her body where his tongue was flickering.
The sounds of his light moaning filled her mind with thoughts of her handsome new fiancé and his devotion to her satisfaction, those hard abs leading in a triangle delineated by a treasure trail of light blond hair down to his...
When she was good and throbbing she yanked on his hair, "Come here."
"Ready?" he asked in a husky voice when his lips returned to hers, moist and tangy from exploring her core.
He shut his eyes and pumped between her legs. As the tip of his cock finally sunk inside of her his mouth pinched up, wincing as he navigated blindly.
They both groaned loudly with each degree he dove farther and deeper, rocking in perfect unison.
She wrapped her legs around his lower back, whimpering in his arms from the blinding size of his girthy and raw penetration.
"Oh wait, wait..." she gasped in shock.
He stilled, hovering over her in amusement, both of them fighting to catch their ragged breaths.
His eyes darted between hers, now pitch black where they had dilated substantially, "Are you in pain? Should I stop that deep...or go all the way in?"
Oh...
She was in slight pain, certain he was already fully immersed, but there was no way in hell she was backing down. "All the way," she nodded in mild terror, chewing the inside of her lip as he kept going.
Theodore had been impressive, but this was...
She grit her teeth and twisted her little fists up on his back as he kept sliding farther and farther.
"Fuck, you fit just like a glove. Jesus Christ, Audette," he sharply inhaled, running his crossed arms farther down her backside to draw her up into his thrusts, "Oh fuck yes, oh fuck..."
His boyish gasps of pleasure and the manner in which his face was crinkling in disbelief was truly satisfying on an intergalactic level, enough for her to breathe through the throbbing ache until it faded to something warm and enjoyably stimulating.
Everything about it was beautiful, from the gentle way his lips pressed against hers, to the manner in which he held her precariously in his arms, and the tender rhythm of his hips as he penetrated her as if she were made of glass.
They kissed slowly and sweetly, and it was a far cry from anything she'd expected from him. Every movement was delicate and deliberate, almost nervous and adorable.
Now that he'd let her warm up she wanted more.
"Oh, Draco, we're really having sex right now," she sighed in shuddering ecstasy, as the pressure of an orgasm began to form with every thrust of his huge cock.
It was absolutely surreal after eight years spent knowing each other as first friends, foes and now fiancé's. She found herself staring at his familiar pretty face, recalling a thousand memories with him; playing as children, laughing, learning...others not so great.
"Mmhmm," he hummed almost absently, his eyes closed in bliss, hot air blowing out of his nose.
She dug her fingers into his shoulder blades, running one hand into his hair, "Harder, I want it harder..."
At this request his hand shot to the bed paneling to grip it with iron force, muscles rippling in his lean arm as he started to slam into her aggressively.
Audette scratched at his abs and his back, utterly blown away by the incredible force that was his body, "Ohh, yesss, harder, faster..."
"Merlin, alright are you trying to break my bed?" he hushed in sweet misery, his skin beginning to prickle with a piney misting of sweat against hers. His breathing grew dark and ragged, hissing heavy breaths through his teeth to accommodate the requests for violence.
Despite his parents being somewhere in the megalithic mansion they made no efforts to keep their debauchery quiet.
The ancient wooden bed creaked in angst, rusty nails protesting in vivid appall under the drastic action. Dust shook from the previously undisturbed canopy at the perimeter of the posts as her feminine cries filled the room, and the owl in the corner clipped it's beak in disturbance, swiveling it's neck like the Exorcist to avert it's tangerine glare.
She had never experienced rough, animalistic sex in her life, nor had she ever craved it. But the chemical connection she shared with Draco, on top of months of thronging for his penetration, had her greedily yanking him into her and begging for savagery.
"Oh yes, oh yes," she whined against his dripping kisses, unable to contain her breathy moans as he absolutely pounded her.
Draco seemed to be exceptionally proud of himself as he kept smirking against her exhales and shoving his tongue into her gaping mouth.
Yes...
Audette was in heaven and reaching climax quicker than she'd expected to, instinctively tangling her fingers in his hair to pull back painfully, "Draco. Cum inside of me, ruin me."
"Oh you want to be violated, do you?" his fingers came out of nowhere to clamp down on both of her weak wrists, sliding her arms high above her head in a burning pin. He dropped slightly to suck at her perky nipples one at a time before coming back, moaning and aggressively biting at her neck.
Oh definitely yes, just like that...
She turned her face to the side as he attacked her like a vampire, flat on her back in revealing thigh straps, her body bouncing underneath him as he desecrated her splendidly.
Her abdomen was tightening, it was happening...yes that very angle...yes his tongue on her neck...
The rhythm slowed perfectly then, as he pulled his cock entirely out before ramming it back in, returning to kiss her heatedly, over and over, out and in, employing full, sensual force with each timed pound of his solid seven inches.
It was the second time she'd ever had sex, and the two experiences could not have been any more vastly opposite.
"You like that, Audette?" he asked, ripping her hair to one side in a searing scald of antagonized nerves. Back and forth, out and in...
Oh yes, yes she very much did.
The thrill of his bad reputation in tandem with the fluffy press of his lips against hers sent Audette clean to the moon.
She was doomed to reach an organism of epic magnitude.
"I'm cumming," she suddenly collapsed underneath him in a trembling mess, her voice breathy and helpless.
Draco's mouth dropped open against hers, lines forming on his forehead as Audette crumbled into an orgasm and constricted tightly around his extraordinary member, moaning in a tiny voice that was surely pleasing to him.
Her toes curled up against the back of his calves as the pressure erupted.
It was turning out to be the best Christmas Eve she'd ever had.
Then she felt his cock stiffening and vibrating between her legs, his breath jilting as he filled her. He looked as if he'd just died, his face contorting as he groaned and shivered over her.
Long after they'd finished they kept kissing in place, their sweaty bodies synchronized and intertwined, throbbing, yearning, running their hands through each other's long hair.
"My dreams came true today - an angel agreed to marry me, then begged me to ruin her," Draco lulled, planting hot kisses on her jawline, "Are you satisfied?"
Audette had been disappearing into the fluffy pillow behind her head, eyes shut with her nails weakly dragging between his shoulder blades as he kissed her all over. "Hmm, I shall leave you a one star review, for at least pronouncing my name correctly," she panted in naughty sarcasm, her skin buzzing wildly in such a way that conversation was not in focus.
"Fine," he scoffed at her and rotated away, swishing his drenched platinum hair from his forehead, "Then I'm leaving you with a two; one bonus star for that outrageously accessible lingerie."
Fishing sideways he searched through the curtains for a compact of smokes left somewhere beyond, and Audette's dopey eyes naturally trailed after him, caught on every feature of his sculpted body.
She tugged the covers up to her chin with both hands, their sex having unexpectantly deepened her attachment to him tenfold.
Realizing then just how in love she was with the boy, and how scared she was of losing him, her heart transformed into a metaphorical ball of elastics, of which someone invisible proceeded to subtract a taught rubber band and set it free to snap in one merciless laceration.
Perhaps she'd just taken a bite of Snow White's poisonous apple.
The love in the air was sensationally delicious, yet deep in the pit of her tummy a spoil of vulnerability was spreading; tendrils of black fear, jealousy and helplessness reaching the lining of her sensitive stomach.
Every inch of his skin, the sound of his voice, his mannerisms, even down to those chewed up fingernails - he had her entirely in the palm of his hand - and this was a rather unpleasant weakness to acknowledge.
Clueless of her longing pang, he sat up against the headboard and lit a dart Parisian style, "I've envisioned claiming you for half a decade, yet no fantasy could have prepared me for that degree of euphoria. You're unbelievably fine, and the way you moan could sell records."
Upon heeding her strangely revered staring he rolled his eyes to the bed canopy. Smoke evaded his pursed lips in a jet of white smog, "I see, someone's starstruck. Don't you start sending me that silent look every time we shag, or I'll have to intentionally displease you."
"I won't apologize for venerating your stellar performance," she adjusted to plant her head in his lap over the comforter with her cheeks flaming, and his bony fingers appeared to string out her long hair away from her clammy face, "Besides, you've guaranteed me a lifetime of said shagging, and I expect only the highest quality of consistent pleasure from a lord of your unfortunate, prior experience."
Eyes glazing sleepily, she observed the priceless stones on her engagement ring glittering in the firelight, a sliver of the flames seeping through a thin curtain crack where beyond the bewitched fire poker was busy as a bee.
As she drifted away under the ecstasy of her orgasm, she felt his touch tickling along her bare ribs and down her curvy waist, back and forth soothingly below the comforter.
He said nothing in response, save for a weary grumble.
Or perhaps he did, but if so it went unrecorded as a blissful unconsciousness claimed her world.
They went to sleep tangled up tightly together, and it was the coziest Christmas Eve of her life, with his fireplace crackling, his breath caressing her cheek, and best of all: no threat of scheduled governesses looming on her morning wake up or a monocle growing hot red in disappointed warning.
Audette just about jumped out of her skin when a belligerent knock somewhere out in the depths of the room rapped loudly, effectively cancelling her deep rest.
At first it must have been imagined. As her dry eyes pried open in the pitch black of his bedroom suite she was instantly assaulted by a full-blown hangover and a splitting headache.
Rap. Rap rap.
Clutching the comforters to her chest she sat up, her heart slamming from both dehydration and terror, "Draco, is that Peregrine?"
Beside her, Draco had propped himself up onto one elbow to rub casually at his face and yank on his messy platinum locks, "Don't be dull Audette, it's not Peregrine."
Rap rap rap.
It would almost be hilarious to note Draco's willful denomination of the fire poker if her skeleton wasn't shaking uncontrollably, "Is it the boggart? Could it be something worse?"
Fearing that it was his angry parents who'd possibly overheard their noisy, extra-marital copulation, Audette drew the comforter all the up to her nose when he angrily parted the curtains, slipping on his boxers, sweats and a long sleeved shirt from a nearby silver armoire.
She saw him stomp to the wall of linear windows in the darkness, explaining indirectly through a complaint, "What fucking mad hatter would be sending a bloody owl at this hour? It's nearly fucking sunrise."
When Draco permitted the invasive bird to enter with an ear splitting crack of an archaic glass pane, Audette's stomach dropped at the sight of Theodore Nott's ridiculously rare Rainbow owl hopping inside to drop a folded parchment, it's feathers a stunning prismatic array with mainly red undertones.
Lucius Malfoy banging on the door from the haunted hallway was beginning to look a lot more appealing than further confrontation with her scorned ex-boyfriend.
"Ah of course, it's from our good Italian friend, Leonardo da Vinci. Think he's wishing me a Merry Christmas?" Draco also recognized the emblematic fowl, sarcastically jeering and rubbing his chin as his gaze jogged down the letter.
"What does it say?" Audette squeaked in terror, slipping from the bed buck-naked to ravage the exact same gilded armoire without permission, which was chalk full of soft clothing in immoderate black tones.
She tripped tugging on a pair of sweatpants which were far too large and long for her, watching him shrug in the moonlight and the sparkling snow, which had begun to whistle in through the building breach, "Barking away in grumpy riddles as usual. No matter."
"It is not no matter because it is never no matter when it comes to Theo. He only ever acts with serious intent, so you had better tell me this instant Draco Malfoy," she contested tersely, locating an equally massive sweater which drooped far off the end of her hands.
Convenient.
Rolling up the sleeves she met him at the window, but it was too late.
As she predictably attempted to grab the parchment out of his fingers Draco held the note high above her head, his expression blank and uncaring as he lit it aflame against a candle sconce. Soon, it was nothing more but ashes returned to the earth from whence it had originated, small tufts of grey speckles floating around their faces.
"You blockhead," Audette crossed her arms, sporting a grumpy frown that did little to influence his cool grey stare. To him, she probably looked like a disgruntled garden gnome arguing about missing carrots, standing nearly a foot shorter than him in a sea of his clothing.
Apparently whatever had been conveyed on that paper Draco intended to keep confidential between them, however Audette could guess as much: Theodore was aware that they had done the deed a mere hour earlier and was not particularly elated.
In fact, proof of such resentment presented itself without ever needing to read the disintegrated wording, when in a flash of frightful rainbow feathers the owl, aptly named Spectrum, utterly freaked out.
Acting entirely outside of it's normally elegant nature it began to peck at Draco's torso aggressively, squawking in shrill screeches and flapping it's wings so that all matter of loose items were knocked off of the table below the aperture.
"What the fuck?" Draco seethed, raising his arms to protect his face as it chased him backwards into the room maliciously.
In a flurry of chaos Spectrum meticulously managed to clamp her purple beak onto his sleeve to tear the fabric in a line up to his elbow, where it proceeded to slice his forearm with razor sharp claws.
Leaving behind a bloody set of gashes on Theodore's nemesis, the intellectually trained owl simply left in satisfaction, gliding out into the wintry sky.
A brilliant sunrise had begun to brighten on the horizon with similar colours to the bird itself, warming the otherwise white and brown landscape buried under a frozen tundra.
Audette slammed shut the window and locked it, her eyes wild and her chest pinching from a runaway heart rate, "He will have instructed that owl to attack you, there is absolutely no doubt."
Draco clamped his hand down over his forearm as blood oozed dangerously from his cephalic and basilic veins, his nose crinkling dramatically from the pain of the severe injury, "Fuck. Fuck, it really stings."
Audette covered her mouth with his long sweater sleeve as she approached with very low enthusiasm, gore being one of the topics of nature that sincerely did not mesh well with her ability retain her stomach contents, "We should seek medical treatment at once, that looks ghastly."
He shook his head, yet his breathing had rapidly heightened, shooting out of his nose loudly, "No, I just need to get something from my office. I can take care of it."
Gasping in agony he closed his eyes and winced off to the side, perhaps hoping despite the torment that he would not appear emasculated in her presence. It was unconvincing, watching beads of bright red blood pool between his fingers to skitter over his knuckles and drip off his nails onto the black carpeting.
"Are you quite sure? Is it supposed to be evolving like that?" blinking in disbelief, Audette inspected the trauma from a few safe feet away, where under his skin an unnatural tributary of black ink was running towards his elbow from the cuts.
Noticing the same concern his eyebrows tented together, "It's poison. He's poisoned...that fucking git poisoned the bird's talons."
"Watch out!" Audette cried as he suddenly tripped weakly, barely managing to remove the hand which was holding pressure on the wound to grab onto the nearest bed post, smearing blood all over the ebony wood.
Throwing away her instinctive gag reflex for hemorrhage situations she raced to his side, where he was tearing uncontrollably and fighting to breathe. If it was poison, it was moving up his arm at an unprecedented medical rate, the veiny tendrils now past the point of Audette's ability to observe their migration under his sleeve.
"O-office, you know whe-where," Draco wrapped his good arm around her shoulders, his weight compressing Audette's fragile spine as she took delicate but steadfast steps towards the doorway.
It was a race against both blood loss and magical toxoids, and by the time they had reached the halfway point of the hallway, directly across the doorway which provided passage to the inexplainable herd of illuminated era lamps, Draco was slick with freezing sweat.
Keeping her eyes defensively peeled on the chained double doors - which remained opened by the few inches the boggart had shoved apart - Audette coaxed Draco with the little power she had in her body to drag him ahead, "It's just there, a few egresses down."
The rattling of his closing airway preluded Draco's demise, collapsing completely onto the runner rug and taking Audette with him. A sickening crack shot through the silent hall as his skull bounced against the hardwood below the fabric.
"No, no, no, Draco don't go, don't leave me like this," Audette sobbed hysterically, patting his face as his lips and eyelids went blue from asphyxiation.
Blood pooled at his side, running against her knees and under his back as all resonance of his breath grew to a quiet whisper. The river of poison slithered up his slender neck, popping out from his shirt collar with the promise of doom.
She fought through the plumbic stench of blood burning her olfactory senses from where her hair and clothing were covered in the slimy substance, tearing off the rest of his torn sleeve to constrict it around his gushing gashes, ensuring to tie it off tightly near his elbow to slow the flow.
"I'll be back, I promise," she stood crookedly, trembling in such violent shock that she felt faint once upright.
The Malfoy Manor had been notably cold before, but now under the substantive terror of the emergency it felt like the Arctic on it's worst day. Shaking along the wallpaper all hope evaded her, leaving him there to possibly perish in the time it would take her to locate anything worthy of saving his life.
Audette unfortunately was piss poor at potions, and not only had it earned her the distaste of her House Head, Professor Snape, but it also rendered her the most useless person Draco could potentially rely on in that moment.
Even though it was life or death, her frantic brain could not rack up a single recollection of any magical poison or biological specimen which might be the cause of his symptoms, and this was the first step out of two. After identifying the cause, treatment was also a roadblock seeing as she knew not of those types of draughts or drafts either.
Thankfully Draco had not locked the office door, else it truly would have been the end of his life.
Blinded by her tears she blundered into the shadowy room, straight into a Italian Renaissance Armillary Globe situated dead center before the gigantic mahogany desk, which rudely proceeded to spin gyroscopically in it's bar table frame.
The space was regrettably hectic to navigate, filled with odds and ends that would make any young muggle boy dreaming of becoming a wizard pee his pants on the spot.
The shelves were hoarded with live weight items, so full in fact that she was lost as to where she aught to begin searching, the wood planks bowing considerably from the plethora of artifacts.
There sat Spanish galleon ships in bottles of sea water, animated with tiny pirates manning pulleys and climbing up ladders like ants, raging on against stormy conditions in the microscopic anomalies.
Cobwebbed beakers of glowing slime, jars of disgusting insects, a satchel of shimmering golden powder spilling out at the seams...it went on and on; framed coins from forgotten or undiscovered civilizations, a taxidermized black bat, a silver blade that had a small note tied around it's hilt entitled werewolf, crystal balls of varying sizes, caliber and age, some cracked which allowed for tinted blue fog to seep into the atmosphere unattended to...
Audette screamed in freight when she turned around and bumped her nose flat into a rectangular glass box with scratches blemishing the interior façade, suggesting that something had been trying to escape. That something was the skeleton of a small ancient dinosaur with a bone structure she had never seen before, blades of carnivorous rowed teeth shining in the flickering candlelight.
Almost slow enough that she did not notice, it craned it's face to hers, cratered eye sockets fixated on her every move as she slid past.
She began furiously drawing out drawers from tables, tossing items like a thief to an unlocked automobile with but minutes to spare. After ravishing the side tables and the shelves, and the escritoire which held nothing but quills, ink and stamping wax, she dismissed a wizarding workbench with nothing but a damaged surface and moved on to the main desk.
It was locked top to bottom.
Desperate and panicked, Audette kicked at the nearest curvilinear pedestal supporting the unremitting furniture, running both hands high into her hair in fear that she had failed Draco, or that he had failed himself by passing out before explaining where to look or what to do, "No! No, this can't be! Where are the potions?"
Preparing to bolt from the room and search for keys in his pockets or bedroom, she was abruptly halted by a terrible, scratchy voice, releasing like a rock against a cheese grater, "The chiffonier of course, you silly girl."
What she had assumed was nothing but a grotesque severed head in a rounded glass case had just spoken to her from the edge of the desk. Eyebrows meeting in morbidity, Audette faced the fleshy, detached monstrosity, who's eyelids had just opened at lopsided angles to reveal cloudy grey orbs.
The man's jaw had fallen flat to the base of it's plate, struggling to raise itself even halfway back up to formulate legible words, his mossy grey tongue quivering in it's toothy bay, "In the Northern corner."
There was no time at all to ponder what sort of dark magic was going in that rose glass container, nor who's head it was speaking to her in a fifteenth-century English diction, and so she pressed around all of the maddening clutter to see that there was in fact one more cabinet of sorts, hidden behind a rather tall suit of armor in the far corner.
It was lined with knobbed doors, which opened to showcase rows and rows of perfectly organized potions and elixirs, some in amber vials, others in amethyst crystal decanters.
Think, THINK, Audette, you unforgivable dimbo, she instructed herself, fiddling with vials to read each and every label, most of which were familiar to some degree in name but not in function.
In seconds, Draco's beautiful compendium of neatly aligned potions was in as much disarray as it's tiny plunderer, the tinkering chime of strewn glasses creating a lovely melody for the sentient creatures watching her.
Alihotsy Draught, no clue. Something to do with giggling, perhaps?
Befuddlement Draught, well it was a bit late for that effect.
Pepperup Potion, yes! Yes...for colds and flus, not poison.
Audette smacked her forehead and tossed the potion in an angry clatter at the wall farthest her, causing the dinosaur to crack it's skull in entertainment of the vandalism.
She pocketed all of the mysterious antidotes as a last second option, each of which she was bollixed by, Draco's sweatpants on her hips now resembling a chipmunk's overfilled cheeks.
Armadillo Bile Mixture - what in the blithers was that?
That one deserved a smash simply for sounding stupid.
The dinosaur chattered it's chipped teeth in mischievous applause.
Mopsus Potion, no. No sense in seeing into the future, in which she would be standing clad in all black over his grave if she did not come up with something useful, and fast.
Another cupboard section held a slew of condemning Polyjuice Potions, some of the grisly green sludge blank, others...others with suspicious initials; GC, HP, BZ...
She paused with these criminalizing flutes in her fingers, understanding hitting her like a bullet train. Had Draco been...impersonating other people?
She slammed them back into place, incapable of handling the possibility of coming across one with AB or TN scribbled onto the yellowed parch taped to it.
The central cupboard was the breadwinner of the bunch, hosting incredibly rare materials and brews, yet the precious libations were kept behind a glass plate, locked by a brass keyhole.
Upon spotting Phoenix tears, floating florid and silver in a white vial, Audette balled up one obnoxiously long sleeve and smashed in the glass without hesitation.
Then quick as Quidditch she dashed hotfoot from the office.
Out in the corridor she was slammed with a wave of overwhelming grief at the sight of his motionless body blending in with the obsidian surroundings, surrounded by blood, platinum hair glinting in a sheet over his shut eyes from the bleak rays of the rising sun managing to infiltrate the stained glass at the end of the passageway.
It was Christmas Day.
Audette's chest stuffed up like a toy bear, heaving in such slow and heavy breaths of denial that she lost all feeling to her extremities, taking aching steps forward in dread.
This was no boggart. This was a real death, right before her eyes.
Speechless and moaning in mourning she fell onto one knee at a time beside him, plucking at the cap of the vial with sweaty and bloody fingers. The simple task took an eternity, and in those seconds she couldn't bare to look at his face else risk shattering into totally useless and sidetracking desolation.
In a cutesy little pop that felt starkly out of place given the misery at play, the cork liner gave out to her suctioning demand, and Audette haphazardly poured the contents all over the initial source of his ailment where his forearm had been cut open as cleanly as a butcher's blade to a wagyu steak flank.
Sparing a few of the drops she forced them into his mouth, then hung her head down and wept, allowing the empty vial to roll down her knees and off into the darkness.
It had been a beefy depository, perhaps comprising of one hundred very rare Phoenix tears, but alas, if he had died in the momentary blip she'd been scavenging then even one thousand Phoenix tears could not bring him back.
She felt blindly around for his freezing hand and clutched at it, rocking on her haunches in silent prayer that she was not too late.
Traumatic shock of such magnitude was new to Audette, who found herself enveloped in a universe of total blackness behind her tremulous eyelids. Nothing existed save for the singular word repeating in her sparking and smoking brain, bargaining with Death himself; please, please, please.
Finally after ages she felt a tiny twitch of his pointer finger against the exterior of her palm, raising her watery eyes to see that his eyelids had begun to flicker open.
The white's of his eyes were marred with retreating black venations, which crept in tandem with the rest down his cheeks and back below his shirt rather quickly.
Kissing his hand she panted in unfathomable relief, "Draco, oh Draco you're alive."
An alleviating sensation dropped from her heart, where tension and bereavement had been accumulating in keen lament.
Draco rolled his head on the carpet, clearly disoriented and unable to respond, directing his glistening blue eyes to the intricate ceiling paneling, yet each breath escaping his lips was healthier than the last.
Audette brushed his blood stained hair away from his forehead in a motherly manner as he recovered, laughing lightly not out of any form of hilarity, but out of sheer assuagement that she had miraculously revived him.
She had been so focused on preventing Draco from harming Theodore that the opposite case had been overlooked as inconceivable, when in fact Theodore Nott was known to be merciless and hostile when trapped.
This would not be the end of his strategic attacks, and arguably this one was quite obvious in comparison to the stealthy, cerebral raths he might concoct in the coming months - amongst those and central, the time turner.
As if on cue a rattle of the chains on the double doors woke Audette from her intoxicating attention on the ill boy fighting for his survival, cooing her name once more as a creaking of the ancient wooden doors groaned inwards, "Audette...Audette..."
"No," she barked contemptuously at the ugly sight of Theodore's untimely returned corpse, reaching for Draco's wand which had fallen to the floor nearby.
With a renewed boost of confidence she whipped it towards the access where the boggart's black eyeball was once again analyzing her and shouted, "Riddikulus!"
From the tip of the wand spun a delightfully bright vortex, powerful and convicting, effectively transforming the creature into a classic, drooling zombie version of Theodore. It's menacing glare evolved into dull eyes and an overall presentation lacking situational awareness.
"Brains...brains..." it belched stereotypically, grabbing onto the doorway a few times in drunken bewilderment before wandering off to where it had come from in harmless confusion, eerily repeating the word until it was no longer within earshot.
Ironic yes, the very thought that Theodore Nott would ever be voracious for brains.
The imagery was straight out of a comic book.
If anything he had a multitude of Byzantine cranial matter, and this impost was the latest addition to Audette's collection of troubling sentiments as she stared down at Draco's anemic expression, his hand gripping hers desperately for comfort and support.
Theodore Nott was equally as dangerous, and it was high time she perceived him for all facets of his personality, not only those she'd been dotingly subjected to.
As he'd said on that bobbing sailboat, guilt and fault in his beryl blue orbs, "You see me not as I am, but through rose tinted glasses that have been placed over your eyes, and it is your sweet trust for me that banes me the most."