Boys’ Night Out

Chapter 4: Boys' Night Out

It was the evening of the costume ball. Draco had morphed into Lucius as Hermione had requested, had taken a bath, and was lounging in the reading room when Narcissa entered.

"Is Father out again this evening?" asked Draco.

Bellatrix's youngest sister nodded and sat on the couch beside him. She sighed. "You're going to leave me pretty soon too."

"I feel guilty," he said. "If I had known you would be free, I would have found you an escort to this dance."

"If you could find one," she said.

"No problem there," he said. "I've been looking at the non-wizard fairy tales. They're filled with beautiful women. There's 'Cinderella and Her Dwarf Step-Sisters,' 'Snow White Meets the Seven Beautiful Beasts,' and lots and lots of attractive girls waiting to be rescued from their evil stepmothers before they turn into a pumpkin."

"I could go as an evil stepmother," she said, "or a pumpkin. Do the pumpkins get good lines?"

"Fairly good, but the step-mothers get the best," he said, putting a reassuring arm across her shoulders. "We all know how seductive evil is, and you would certainly be the most seductive one there." As she made a face at him, an idea struck. "I wish I had thought of it earlier. You could have gone as my evil stepmother, and I could have been rescued by some ravishing princess. We could have invented a new category of fairy tale."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said accusingly.

His inspired description of the fairy tales had inspired her, and she smirked and said, "What if I practiced being evil?" She wrapped one arm around him and tickled him in the ribs with the other.

"Yah!" went Draco. But he refused to be a sissy and ask for mercy. His fingers dug into the ribs of the youngest Black sister. She screamed and tried to escape, but he grabbed her and pressed her into the back of the sofa where he had her trapped in a full length body press. She tried to tickle back, but she couldn't hold out, and she was soon squirming and yelling for him to stop.

He stopped. She was breathing heavily and pressed against him. As her breathing slowed, she gave him a melancholy look, kissed him on the tip of his nose, and began stroking his hair. He held the sad and lonely lady. Her lips briefly met his. When he returned the favor, her tongue flicked out. They shifted and were now nestled together. They lay quietly, breathing the same air and marveling at how pleasant the contact was.

Needs stirred inside the melancholy female. She lay there as the warmth seeped through her until she first felt comfortable and secure. Next was the exchange of affection, and she let the tip of her tongue touch the corners of his mouth, and when he accepted it, she gave him a caressing nibble that tended his lips, his cheek, his eyes, his nose, and back to his lips now open for her as he let her achieve the feeling of companionship that let her relax in his arms.

How easy it is to underestimate what seem the softer emotions that oft appear to give way before the hard edge of commands and external force, but that lie dormant beneath the surface to grow unnoticed until it is they who are directing the harsh commands and steely force.

Thus it was that our fair lady believed that she had reached her desire and that her desire was a comfortable and innocent companionship. So innocuous were the next stirrings that she did not notice either her small shifts into more and more intimate contact or the initial pangs of longing within. Not even when the small shifts became gentle moves and the initial pangs became tiny pools of warmth did our melancholy lady suspect what was coming, but only noticed a growing feeling of well-being.

It was only when her moves centered on brushing her breasts against his chest and pressing her inner thighs against his legs that she realized the warmth was pooling in her intimate self, but her long suppressed needs told her rational mind that something that felt this good could not be bad.

Then she was moaning and sliding against him and covering him with her kisses, and her rational mind could not keep the soft emotions from taking his hand, guiding it up her skirt, and placing it on the smooth fabric covering her sex. His finger rested between the silk-covered folds and he discovered the circular moves that stoked her passion as within him rose equivalent soft emotions of pleasing an admirable lady who wanted his attention. And these soft emotions more than sustained the effort needed to tend her sensitive spot as her whole body and her whole being expressed appreciation for his kindness until the soft emotions within him grew into the steel of enjoying driving a desirable female into rut where she writhed and whimpered for him and her face contorted as her soft desires took command of her and she couldn't stop and she smiled at him and then the soft needs consumed her and her face went feral, her pelvis made brutal jerks, and her voice keened and ended in a choked sob. She was gripping him hard enough to hurt, but it felt good.

She was still. He could see a flush spread over her. He could feel her heart pounding. He had not known dignified and proper women could behave in such a manner. He held her, thinking she had revealed herself vulnerable to him and thinking he should protect her against the world.

She held him, the contact prolonging her blissful state. When she was merely happy and content, she sat up and gave him a fond look. "That was sweet of you," she said.

Completely out of his depth, the only thing he could think of to say was, "Are you okay?" The whole experience was shattering enough that he didn't even realize that he had an unsatisfied erection.

He straightened his clothes, and the boy masquerading as a wizard discovered it was time to meet the others at the ball. He left the house in a daze.

When he arrived, Ron with Parvati, Harry with Luna, and Hermione were waiting for him. "You're late," they said.

Once inside the building, the three girls announced they were going to the ladies' room.

"Space-cadet, socialite, and prissy-missy," said Ron when the girls had gone.

"You bring your porn?" Harry asked Draco. "By the end of the evening, we're going to be as frustrated as hell."

"Porn and booze," said Draco.

"We'll take you back to the house," said Ron. "We'll have to blindfold you until you're safely inside, but then we can get pissed and see who can wank the furthest."

"No funny stuff while I'm blindfolded," said Draco, "or I'll destroy what I brought, and you won't want to miss it."

"I got pics of boobs you wouldn't believe," said Ron.

"Mine are couples shagging, all angles and quite moving," said Draco.

"Remember, for the wanking contest, it's measured from the toe-line," said Ron.

"Right, from the toe-line, not from the end of our peckers. Doesn't that give you a six-inch advantage?" Draco asked Ron.

"At least," said Harry

"I'd give up the porn for a decent conversation with a girl who likes me," said Ron.

"That's never going to happen, boys," said a voice behind them.

They turned to see Arthur Weasley dressed as a Killer Klown from Outer Space.

Draco drew on his assumed persona. "We never thought it would, old chap."

Arthur stepped back and then said, "Good imitation, Draco. Well, you boys enjoy your evening." He walked away.

Spacey, Social, and Prissy returned. Draco noticed their hesitation when his assumed persona struck them. He was thinking that he might be able to have a little fun before he and the other boys broke away.

After two dances, Ron had abandoned Parvati for the refreshment table, and she was watching a mature wizard as he sipped a cup of punch and let his eyes roam the ballroom in a confident manner that said he knew any lady would be proud to be his partner. She watched him set the cup down and begin touring the room, greeting people as he passed them. Her heart beat faster as he came closer. She wondered which lucky girl he would choose. Then he was in front of her.

"Miss Patil, will you honor me with a dance?"

She nodded and managed to stammer, "Call me 'Parvati.'"

She let herself be swept onto the floor. She had thought he would show what an accomplished dancer he was, but he kept to simple steps, and this conveyed that he was more interested in his partner than displaying his skill. She found him easy to follow, and as she focused on him, the rest of the ballroom receded.

"You dance well, Parvati."

"Thank you," she said, feeling a warm flush.

The number ended. "I would like to have the next one with you," he said, "although I do not want to monopolize such an attractive lady."

"I would like another," she said.

His hand on her back was perfectly respectable, but she knew it could easily move lower. She might not complain if it did. As they turned, she let her breasts brush against him. It was natural. It was unavoidable. She wanted another chance. Another turn. Another brush. She liked it. Did he mind? Did he know what she was doing? Another turn. In the simple moves, her legs moved against his smoothly, without entangling. She was closer. Her breasts constantly brushing against him. Her legs moving next to his. The dance ended.

Everything was in a haze. She was aware that he had walked her to the refreshment table for a punch and that she had said that she needed some fresh air, and they were on the balcony. He was asking about her, and she was muttering something about Divination and something and Herbology and whatever and Magical Creatures and anything to keep him talking to her and keep him with her, and she was glad when he waved his wand for privacy and held her closer and with supreme confidence placed his lips on hers, and she moaned into his mouth when he embraced her and gave her the attention she had always longed for, and then he was whispering what an admirable lady she was with her fashion sense beyond her years and how hard it was to find someone who realized how important details to grooming and clothes were in the circles in which he traveled and how proudly he could enter any room with such a beautiful and fashionable companion by his side, who had the elegant figure to grace any outfit said his lips on her neck and his hands cupping her breasts and his fingers unzipping her to let her bodice fall open and her silk bra to slide down to let his lips and tongue tend those dark nipples he assured her were perfection itself on a perfect body now making animal noises and weaving in time with the worm moving from behind her navel toward her more intimate self as a hand touched the inside of her knee and slowly and caressingly moved up and up her golden thigh until the worm and the hand were close, very close, and Parvati thought she should protest for virtue's sake since she had never before allowed anyone under her skirt, but instead she placed her foot on a nearby bench to allow freer access to her aching void and the protest became an intense moan as the overpowering male smothered her lips with his and as one and then two fingers slid into the waiting space which opened into a welcoming cavern that became the focus of her world as she weaved at his command – commands she had not known she longed for – while feelings she wanted to go on and on and last forever were whipped to an unbearable intensity by a commander stirring her essence at his pleasure, and when she knew she would scream with the agony, a wave crashed against her and carried Parvati Patil to a far shore where she lay on the beach of her master like a survivor of a storm.

She was aware her breath was ragged and her heart was pounding. She was not aware her skin was flushed, her eyes were shining, and her lovely self was glowing. She was becoming aware that Draco was fastening her clothes and arranging her hair, and as she held him, that he still had an erection.

"I didn't do anything for you," she said.

"Perhaps later," he said. "We need to get you back before you're missed."

She walked with Draco back into the ballroom expecting everyone to stare at her and shake their heads in disapproval, but no one appeared to notice them. The two spotted Ron by the refreshment table and gave each other a farewell squeeze of their hands before separating.

A few minutes later, Luna Lovegood heard someone beside her say, "Are you checking the decorations for hostile creatures?"

Luna looked at the mature persona and said, "There are lots of different kinds of plants here: some from the forest, some from the fields, and some from the lakeside. There's a chance of intermingling what hides in them."

"Yes, we wizards do like natural decoration, and I suppose there is a chance we are fostering some strange combinations. But this isn't the first time we've used these plants."

"You think I'm worrying needlessly," said Luna.

"I see nothing special about this time. Do you?"

"No, they are being very circumspect," said Luna.

"I was hoping to entice you away from your vigil by asking you for a dance," he said.

"You want to dance with a loony Ravenclaw? And I don't dance very well."

"Think of it as a Slytherin tactic," he said. "Any creatures hiding in the decorations will think you're no longer observing them. And I would be proud to have you as a dance partner."

"You're saying that to humor me and make me feel better," she said.

"Of course, I am," he said. "Is it working?"

"A little," she said.

"Then may I have this dance?"

"Okay."

A minute later, she asked, "How am I doing?"

"Well enough. I'm enjoying myself. Can I be so bold as to ask for more dances?"

"Slytherin to the core," she replied. "The creatures will think I'm having so much fun that I no longer care about them."

Several dances later, she wanted to rest. He guided her to a table in the corner that was well positioned for observation while he retrieved some punch, grapes, and melon slices.

"Have you chosen your advanced subjects for next year?" he asked. He was fighting to keep everything light-hearted. The friendly beauty of Parvati had nearly stripped away his evening's veneer of sophistication, and the eerie attractiveness of Luna had blindsided him. His mantra that they were little girls with nothing to offer was giving ground before his desperate wish that they did.

"I'm not certain. I keep changing my mind," she replied.

"Most Ravenclaws include Charms and Transfiguration because of their fundamental nature and Arithmancy because it offers a deeper view of the world," he said, "but I've heard you have great rapport with animals."

"A perceptive and kind remark," she said. "It makes me wonder about the evil accusations I've heard about you."

"In Potions and Arithmancy, I'm competing against Ravenclaws, and it's nearly killing me," he said. "Were you considering either one of them?"

"No, my mind works in a different manner," she said. She cocked her head. "I've heard about your skills and hard work in Potions and Arithmancy. Even the Ravenclaws are impressed. Are you being modest in an effort to convince me that you're an easy-going, regular bloke, not the hard-driving, ambitious person that I've always thought you were?"

"Relaxed, easy-going, wouldn't hurt a fly," said Draco, leaning back languorously in his chair.

"A clever disguise," she said. "I often wish I were the type to offer support to those of great ambition, but I think I make them nervous instead."

"I find you comfortable and relaxing," said Draco, realizing, to his surprise, that it was true. "I think you would be an asset to those of truly great ambition." He yawned prodigiously. "Unfortunately, that is not I."

"You do put on a good show," said Luna, putting her hand on top of his.

Draco was wracking his brain for ways to keep the conversation going, to unobtrusively keep holding her hand. He was thinking Ron might be correct: friendly conversation with an understanding girl was better than porn. He was also shifting position to hide a growing erection.

"Are you thinking about what to say to me now that I'm holding your hand?" asked Luna.

"Yes, but I'm starting to think that with you I should just blurt out whatever comes to mind and let you sort it out."

"An interesting experiment," said Luna. "It appeals to me unless you're thinking low and base thoughts hardly worth uttering."

"I was thinking of holding more of you. Is that low and base enough?"

"Borderline," she said. "But titillating."

"Would you like a few more dances first? We can lull the creatures in the decorations into a false sense of security and ambush them when they make their move."

"You're making fun of me," she said.

"No, I'm teasing you," he said, standing and leading her to the dance floor.

It slowly dawned on Luna that he was treating her as a girl, as a girl he liked, and she liked it. She let herself brush against him as they danced, and she found that she liked that he enjoyed it. After all the years at school where she had been an outsider, it was new and different to have someone relate to her as a girl.

But then the years of rejection and derision came crashing down on her.

He stopped dancing. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Well, you looked as if you were having fun, and then you looked as if everything was terrible. Are you sure you're feeling well? We can rest. Do you want a drink of water? Do you want to go to the ladies' room? Hermione and Parvati are standing right over there. They can take you."

"I'm really fine, Draco."

He looked skeptical. "Well, let's rest. Would you like a punch? Is it too sweet?"

"I want to dance some more," she said.

The next number was slow, and as they danced, he noticed her somber appraisal of him. "I hope I meet with milady's approval," he said.

"I'm still considering it," she said, "but you'll be the first to know." She moved close to him.

He held her lightly. He was thinking that girls were a weird combination of strong and strange and fragile.

When the number ended, Luna took his hand, and the two of them walked to a deserted balcony by silent and mutual consent.

Still holding his hand, Luna said, "This has been a nice evening, Draco. I thought I would have fun trying to spot the animals mingling in the decorations. I didn't know I'd be asked to dance by someone who wanted to talk to me."

"I haven't said that much," he said. "I've seen you around school and thought you looked interesting and attractive, but I never managed to meet you."

She moved closer. "Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Very."

"Do you want to kiss me?" she asked. "I've heard girls aren't supposed to ask, but this may be my only chance since everyone else avoids me."

"That's their loss," he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead and then, as she continued to look expectant, one on the lips."

She cocked her head. "Does it take practice?"

"Yes," he said. He put his hand gently on her waist and combed her hair behind her ears with his fingers. He slowly lowered his head toward hers until their lips were millimeters apart. He let her close the distance.

She fumbled with his lips as she wondered what in the world to do. She fumbled some more. She rather liked it. Since he wasn't pulling away, she decided he didn't mind her clumsiness, put her arms around him, and pulled him into a tight embrace and energetic kiss. Her nipples were brushing his chest and getting taut. She noticed he didn't seem to mind that either.

She came up for air and said, "I'm sorry I'm clumsy, but I'm having quite a nice time. I hope you are."

"I think it's the person, not the technique," he said. He leaned in and nibbled from her ear, down her neck, and onto her shoulder.

She made a delighted little sound and weaved, with her developing mounds against him. They both rather liked it. She grabbed him and kissed him passionately. He felt her erect nipples; she felt his erect member.

A flushed Luna stepped back and gave the situation some serious thought. "I want to go on and on but I've never had a boy pay any attention to me before and I have no idea what to do and I'm afraid my inexperience will let me get carried away."

"I think I know what you want," said Draco.

She gave him a quizzical look.

"You want to be held and treated like an attractive girl that I admire and lust after, which you are, you know, but when the evening is over, you want to still be a virgin," said the adult persona. "And you want me to never tell anyone what we did."

"Yes," nodded Luna.

"That can be arranged," he said.

"Do you think so?" she asked. "That would be marvelous."

"Allow me," he said. He clasped her hand, held it to the sacred sky above, and proclaimed, "Wizard's honor." He lowered her hand and looked her directly in the eye. "That should do it," he said.

She took his hand as he led her upstairs to an unused room with chairs and sofas where they cast the spells for secrecy. She thought it would be awkward after the rational discussion, but it seemed natural when he led her to a sofa, placed her in the middle, and sat in a corner. There was some distance between them. He waited while she waved her wand to banish several varieties of creatures known to pester snogging couples.

"I like your hair," he said.

"This?" she asked, stroking it with her hand. "This washed-out blonde mess?"

"I keep seeing it at school. I want to run my fingers through it. Sometimes, I think about waking up with it draped over me – my companion, Luna, lady of insights, helping me and the Malfoy family reach new heights."

"However would I do that?" she asked.

"Your freshness, your innocence, your strength: a constant inspiration."

"You're being too serious," she said. "You're supposed to inveigle me into some heavy snogging by feeding me lines about how attractive I am."

"Of course, you're attractive," he said, moving closer. "But a lot of it is inner beauty that will never fade."

"Couldn't you just tell me I'm pretty?"

"You're very pretty," he said, putting an arm around her and leaning close.

"That's better," she murmured.

Their lips met again in a clumsy kiss that sent an electric shock through both of them.

I really like him, she thought.

I really like her, he thought.

Does he think I'm sexy? she wondered.

Does she think I'm sexy? he wondered.

"I like your breasts," he said, trying to be a bold and confident bad-boy.

She blushed.

"I bet they look very nice," he said, wondering if he should try to unbutton her blouse.

She looked expectant.

"Very, very nice," he said, running his fingertips over the blouse-covered peaks in an attempt to cover his lapse in aggressiveness.

She gave a long, low sigh. He cupped them with his hands. She pushed into him and moved sinuously. He wondered if this was the signal to continue. He reminded himself that he had agreed to a limited ravishment and began fumbling with the buttons. She impatiently unbuttoned her blouse. He thought that was encouraging. Then he noticed that spacey Luna had a firm and full figure. His lips moved to the resilient flesh that was showing. She unfastened her bra and let it drop. What little rationality he had left registered that as very encouraging as he engulfed her with his lips.

Primal urges began replacing rational considerations of how to be a bad boy as Luna pressed his head against her and began moaning and weaving. His hand found her knees and nudged them apart.

Luna had thought that having a boy pay attention to her would be nice, but she didn't realize it would be this nice. He was clumsily kissing her and fumbling his way up her spreading thighs, and she was having a good time. Her body was taking on a life of its own with moans and wiggles, not to mention a growing tension and an increasing sense of warmth and dampness. Her back arched when his hand reached the junction of her legs and pressed against her practical cotton knickers. She lay back on the couch as he began nibbling the inside of her knees. She wondered if things could feel too good, and he had to push her legs apart as his lips and tongue moved toward her private place.

"Oh, I shouldn't. I shouldn't," she said when he began tugging at her knickers, but she lifted her hips, and he slid the garment down her legs where it remained on one ankle.

Her hands were applying gentle pressure against his head and her thighs were offering some resistance as he began nibbling toward her revealed center, but when he was halfway there, the coiled tension inside her reached critical and her legs sprung open. She closed her eyes and made small sounds as he nibbled the rest of the way up her glorious thighs and groaned when his tongue touched her intimate self.

Draco was hoping his adult persona had some residual memory of how to go about this. What little he knew was gentle, slow, and steady. He was encouraged by the sounds and moves Luna was making. He kept at it. The sounds and moves became more intense. His spirit soared at the thought of driving marvelous Luna Lovegood into ecstasy. He experimented by sliding a finger into her. Her wiggling increased. He pulled his finger out and tried two – arranged vertically. When they were mostly in he turned them and pressed the tips of his fingers against the upper wall. He was rewarded by Luna going wild. It was all he could do to keep his tongue on the lady's nub.

There was a gasp and then a wet and muscular clenching of his fingers. There was another gasp and another wet and muscular clench. There was a third gasp followed by the wet, muscular clench. Then there was a panting Luna with damp hair and wet thighs. There was a happy and content Luna with flushed skin and sweet smile.

Luna pulled Draco into snuggling position as she swam in a sea of bliss. He had been so good to her: treating her well and keeping all his promises. She kept reminding herself that he was only for this evening. She hoped that someday she would find a boy like him that she could keep.

They cleaned themselves and dressed.

"I'm so glad you got to the feeding-me-lines part," she said.

"The other part was true, too," he replied.

She looked thoughtful. "I don't know if I can handle that. I would have to think that an evil Slytherin Malfoy has a heart and soul and possibly is someone I could really like."

"Is it more comfortable if I'm a bad boy who led you temporarily astray?" he asked. He pontificated with his finger in the air. "But now that reason has returned, you realize who your real friends are and can regard this evening as merely one of strange and beautiful memories accompanied by dreams you wish were true but know are impossible."

"I wish you had let me come to that conclusion by myself," she said. "Your showing depth and sensitivity is really messing with my mind."

"Suppose I suggest that you forget I said it."

"That would help. Thanks," she said.

He took her hand and walked her back to the entrance to the ballroom where they discreetly separated to avoid suspicion. They worried that Harry had missed her, but he was deep in a discussion of sports with a group of wizards.

Luna wandered over, made of show of being neglected, and coaxed Harry onto the dance floor. Draco wandered over to the punch bowl while fighting down thoughts of what a marvelous person Luna was and reminding himself that he was only a bad-boy fling to her.

Absently sipping his punch, he was certain the triple-whammy of youngest Black sister, Miss Patil, and Miss Lovegood had left him a quivering blob of protoplasm. How was he to hold himself together the rest of the evening?

"There you are," said a commanding voice behind him. "Where've you been?"

"Right here," he countered, thinking he had found what was needed to put starch back in his psyche. "Have you finished your gossip fest with Parvati and Ginny?"

"Well," said Hermione defensively.

Draco knew he had made a lucky strike. Time to continue the offensive. "That's okay. A bit of a break is good. Care for a dance?"

Nothing like a brace of the bossy, thought Draco. He discovered he had enough left in him to dance decently if he concentrated on it.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and the group was making their farewells at the entrance to the dance hall.

Parvati told Ron she had had a fun evening and thanked him for bringing Draco.

"He didn't bother you, did he?" asked Ron.

"No, he behaved the way a true adult wizard should with a girl," said Parvati. "And some of his dance routines are breathtaking. I'll always remember this evening."

Luna shook Harry's hand and thanked him for the evening. She turned to Draco. "I, too, will remember this evening as the night that a young Slytherin behaved beautifully." To everyone's amusement, she kissed him on the forehead.

Hermione made her goodbyes with singing in her heart that having Draco disguise himself as Lucius had caused him to act like a gentleman to her friends. And she was beaming from knowing the other girls were jealous that she got most of the dances with him. She ignored the feeling that he had been too decent during the evening and shrugged off the twinge from thinking she wasn't attractive enough for him to act just a little bit improper. She had hoped he would at least make a few risqué remarks that caused her to blush, and on the dance floor, she had longed for a few naughty touches. But perhaps he didn't care that much for girls. After all, the three boys seemed eager to leave. She still had hopes that the real Lucius had feelings for a bookish witch, which he was willing to express instead of leaving her with an incomplete feeling.

Some time later, when they were finally safe inside an upstairs room of the creepy mansion, the three boys each took a swig of strong drink to begin banishing the evening's frustrations.

Draco stepped up to the line on the floor. The evening sequence danced in his mind: full, weaving, mature form; knowing kisses; whimpers of an elegant lady – thick, raven hair; sweaty, golden skin; moans of a beautiful girl – damp, blonde tresses; sweet, content smile; taste of an aroused witch.

His load shot across the room.

"Wow," said Ron and Harry.

They never matched it.