The Upper Woods

Chapter 9: The Upper Woods

Poetic conceit, thought Hermione.

The clouds were low. The drizzle had started in the middle of the night. Crafty Narcissa had cast a wand-less spell to keep the bows, strings, arrows, and spears dry. She also had used a spell that made their cloaks and trousers pincer resistant. "I should have thought of this earlier," she had said.

The campaign for the upper woods would begin at the limestone boundary and push north to the river. Once again, the witches and wizards had a narrow strip by the stream.

"Wood-fairies' jewelry," said Bellatrix as they viewed the water droplets on the webs.

The other five winced. Revenge will be ours, they vowed.

The first spider off the mark dropped from its bush, went rampant with its forelegs in the air, and charged. It screamed and convulsed as three poisoned arrows went through it.

"What if they all charge at once?" asked Draco.

"It'll be a short day," said Lucius.

A short day for us, thought the witches.

They were three-fourths of the way to the river when Hermione said, "I think I hear something." She turned and moved toward a sound behind her. Then it was quiet. She walked cautiously, holding her spear ready in case it was a spider. There was the sound again. As her eyes scanned a thicket of bushes, she stepped on wet leaves covering a patch of mud. Her feet went out from under her, and she slid to the bottom of a gulley.

"Omigod, where's Hermione?" asked Narcissa.

"She said she heard something behind us," said Draco.

"We've got to find her."

Hermione was getting to her feet at the bottom of the gulley. She looked around, all senses alert. She couldn't hear anything. Then the dead branches overlooking the gulley began to move. She tried backing out of the low spot she was in, but her feet were slipping on the wet leaves and mud. The dead branches became six spiders. She tried scrambling up the slope with both hands and feet, but the slope was too steep. The spiders were spreading out. She tried jumping to grab a branch and pull herself up, but the branches were out of reach. The spiders were ready to charge. Hermione braced herself and decided which one she would take with her.

She heard people calling her name. "Here," she yelled. "I'm in a gulley. There're spiders." She gripped her spear and tried to find solid footing. The spiders reared for their charge.

Blinding flashes and whip-like cracks knocked Hermione off her feet. I'm not even going to take one of them with me, she thought. She scrambled to her hands and knees. The spiders were gone. She looked around to see Bellatrix at the top of the gulley with her wand still poised.

"I'm glad to see you," said Hermione.

Bellatrix nodded, grabbed a branch for support, and reached down to pull the girl to higher ground. Bellatrix cried out that she had found her, and they rejoined the others.

"I hope the centaurs didn't see me use my wand," said Bellatrix.

"At this stage of the game, I don't think it matters," said Lucius.

By noon, the skirmish line had pushed the remaining spiders into a pocket of tall grass and scattered trees. It bordered the river and was fifty yards wide and three hundred yards long. The centaurs and wizards were in a quandary. They had been picking off exposed spiders one by one, but now an unknown number of them were hidden in the grass. If they entered the pocket, the spiders could ambush them. If they drove them out, the spiders could charge the line en masse. Either way, the casualties would be unacceptable.

"How many do you think are in there?" asked Lucius.

"I think one or two spiders escaped from each of the sixteen squads," said Severus. "Between twenty and thirty."

They placed the seventy-five adult centaurs around the perimeter. The artillery brigade of young bucks would first walk a barrage from the middle of the pocket to the west end with two lines of shells that bisected the pocket and were about five yards apart. Then they would walk a barrage from the middle to the east end. The brigade, escorted by the witches and wizards and staying behind the perimeter guards, would take thirty volleys to cover each half.

Warfare by the numbers, thought Hermione.

"We'll hope warfare by the numbers is beyond their ability to cope," said Severus.

When the barrage reached the west end of the pocket, five spiders charged out to be mowed down by the perimeter guards. When the tactic was repeated for the eastern half, four spiders charged out to meet the same fate.

"Now for the hard part," said Bellatrix.

Thirty five adult centaurs plus the witches and wizards would sweep the pocket from east to west while the rest of the centaurs guarded the perimeter. Once again, the witches and wizards had the strip by the water. Before the sweep began, Narcissa and Bellatrix took Hermione aside for a whispered conference. When the sweep began, the three witches stepped forward and swung their spears like scythes – amazingly effective scythes that cut wide swaths, leaving no place for any spider to hide.

There isn't a spell that our Hermione can't master, recalled Severus.

An hour later, it was over. Three live spiders had been found still lurking in the grass.

The rugged terrain of gullies with slippery leaves and mud had been hard on the centaurs. Between spider attacks and falls, they had nine walking wounded.

We came close to having a much greater loss, thought Narcissa and Bellatrix.

Leaving the centaurs to patrol their new territory, the witches and wizards returned to the manor.

After her shower, Hermione was hurrying to the patio for lunch where the elves were fixing kabobs. She came around a corner and ran into Draco. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Didn't stray far from Bellatrix today, did you?"

"It's the comrade-in-arms thing," he said calmly. "And the one time we separated, she saved your ass."

That was insufferable. "Never going to cut the apron strings, are you?" she replied.

He was still calm. "It's not like you aren't all over my father. What are you after, purse strings?"

She was in his face. "You horrible brat. Didn't anyone ever teach you manners? Maybe I should."

"Are you going to hex me with your wand?" he asked.

"No," she replied as she grabbed his shirt, "I'm going to shake some sense into you."

She yanked on his shirt. It came out of his trousers, but he stepped closer and yanked on her blouse which came out of her skirt. Their hands touched each others' bare skin.

"Oh," said Draco.

"Oh," said Hermione.

Her arms went around him; her lips found his; her tongue flicked out. It went through her mind that this was Draco. Her breasts were against his hard chest. She wanted more. She was pressing against his growing hardness. Oh, no, she wanted it. She told herself not to as she weaved against him. He began unbuttoning her blouse; she ripped it open. He nuzzled her bra; she ripped it off. Her breast was in his mouth. Oh, gods, no. Oh, gods, yes. Her hands fumbled with his trousers. He felt impossibly hard, impossibly big. She panicked – she would never get it out. She panicked – she would never get it in. He had her against the wall. Her torso was twisting. She shouldn't do this; she couldn't do enough. Her fingers were in his trousers and wrapped around him. She was afraid of what was going to happen; she was afraid it wasn't going to happen. His hand was under her skirt and moving up the inside of her thighs. She told herself she should be saying no as she spread her legs. His hand was at the moist junction. She definitely should be saying no. Her tongue slid into his mouth as his finger slid under the cotton and into her. She should stop moaning and grinding against him. She shouldn't arch her back to let him pull the garment down; she shouldn't kick her legs to let it fall to the floor.

Then he was holding her hands above her head with one hand and spreading her slickness with the other. She saw the wild look in his eye as he did what both knew would never happen. The husky grunts of Hermione being penetrated excited him. He looked at the intelligent face, full of surprise. He raised her skirt to watch the ivory shaft plunge deeper and deeper between the round thighs and into the sopping wet curls. He was in, all the way in the Head Girl.

Hermione began rolling her hips. It was terrible; it was wonderful. She looked into his smoldering eyes and went to a wild place. She didn't know she was giving him a contorted smile. Everything became unbearable. She was mindless and clutching. She was brutally demanding. Everything became a liquid bliss.

She regained awareness of her surroundings to see the strangest look in his eyes, a look both dominating and helpless. He had to have her; he couldn't stop. She wrapped her arms around him. Her body moved up and down as his passion drove him into her and his groans joined her sloppy wet noise. Then he was looking at her in the strangest way – as if he realized she was a beautiful girl, a beautiful person, someone he could build a life with. He stopped. She felt his sweat. She knew he was having his moment inside her.

The impossible had happened.

Two peaceful, content, and confused people arranged their clothes, checked their appearances in a hallway mirror, and joined the others for lunch.

After lunch, Severus announced that he had to attend a staff meeting at school. Hermione announced she had to go shopping for school supplies. More accurately, she needed some time alone to think through recent events. If nothing else, there was the important question of who really counted as her first wizard, Fenrir-Beast or Draco?

Draco, too, was in a daze. If he had thought about it, he would have realized that she was, but it had never occurred to him that Miss Smarty-Pants was a real girl. His world had been shaken. It smarted from getting in her pants.

Draco entered the reading room to find his aunt and his father in discussion.

Bellatrix the forever forethoughtful stood to make a point. "You will certainly scout this afternoon."

Lucius no stranger to strategy rose to the challenge. "We don't want to alert the spiders that we plan to take more ground. The woods are a natural boundary. The spiders might conclude that we will stop there."

Bellatrix the occasionally irritating replied, "Not certain of your riding skills? Afraid of falling off your little broom into a nest of nasty spiders? Here's Draco. He rides very well. Don't you, sweetie?"

Draco the dutiful son voiced his opinion. "I'm certain my father can give me pointers."

Lucius always the helpful father said, "My first is that a Malfoy doesn't ride any old thing. Spirit and refinement are important."

Draco defender of the house of Malfoy added, "We're used to the best."

Bellatrix never guilty of false modesty declared, "But can you ride with the best, or will the best ride you?"

Lucius of commanding presence returned, "It would be their best ride."

Bellatrix steadfast in her faith said, "I would knock you off your brooms and sweep you out of the sky."

Father and son eternal sportsmen promised, "Never."

Bellatrix whose path was clear ran cackling to the storage shed, mounted her broom, and sped across the lake.

Father and son whose demeanor betrayed no doubt sauntered to the shed, and the dynamic duo whose howls were a veritable call to the wild blasted into the blue yonder.

Narcissa had seen her sister dash to the shed and race across the lake and had wondered what was going on. She saw her husband and son stroll to the shack and take off in pursuit. A few minutes later, Bellatrix was speeding toward the safety of the house with Draco and Lucius gaining. Bellatrix strove mightily, but the two wizards were on either side of her with a grip on her broom. Approaching the house, Lucius and Draco, still holding Bellatrix's broom, did a loop followed by a barrel roll. Bellatrix squealed.

Let's see if it ends the same way. Well squealed is well finished, thought Narcissa.

As they headed toward the house, Lucius waved his wand and the front door to the manor crashed open. The trio entered the foyer at high speed.

No broom-riding in the house, thought Narcissa, recalling one of the strict rules of Draco's childhood.

Narcissa heard Bellatrix shriek as the wizards flew their prize up the stair wells, and she heard the clatter as the trio and their brooms more or less landed on the bed in the Master Bedroom. Narcissa told herself that a person of refinement wouldn't hope they had left the door open in their eagerness. They had.

Checking that my sister is okay, thought Narcissa.

Her sister didn't seem to be injured although she was obviously in deadly peril. She was lying on her back with Lucius propped on his elbow on her right and Draco propped on his elbow on her left. Neither was touching her, only offering admiration for her flying skill while the lady, accepting the outcome with good grace, was running her fingers through their silver locks. Their admiration turned to her teamwork, her bravery, and her contributions. Bellatrix's defenses were going down. Their admiration included her loveliness and her sexiness. She held Lucius for a long and longing kiss and then turned to hold Draco in an affectionate embrace. Both wizards were holding her and nuzzling her and murmuring adoration.

Notify the 'Book of World Records,' thought Narcissa. They're going to make history's biggest wet spot.

Their hands on her arms and tracing the aristocratic lines of her face were no longer enough for Bellatrix. She unbuttoned her blouse. They helped her remove it. Now their hands could slide across the purple silk holding her breasts, smoothly slide with the silk filling with the provocation. She brushed against Lucius to let him feel the growing arousal until he pulled her to him and plundered the mouth of the lovely lady. When it seemed Lucius would go wild with desire for her, she broke away to press into Draco. It was her turn to go wild with desire. Her tongue was parting his lips. It was darting between his teeth. Her leg was up; she wanted to feel Draco against her inner thigh. The two wizards fumbled with the fastenings of her skirt. It was off.

A fine display of teamwork, thought Narcissa.

The two wizards alternated between giving Bellatrix tender affection and removing garments. The restrain of the wizards had its effect as the witch went wild from the withheld foreplay. She grabbed Draco's cock; her lips went around it; it was wet; she straddled him. Her face turned as pretty as a little girl's as she slowly lowered herself and his erect rod vanished into her. Displaying more teamwork, Draco pulled Bellatrix down to lie on top of him while Lucius positioned himself behind his sister-in-law. Narcissa saw Lucius mutter a spell and his cock become compact and glistening, and she saw Bellatrix's look of surprise when she felt his rod at the pucker of her bum. Bellatrix could not stop riding Draco, and her mouth opened as her moves forced Lucius into her.

Ah yes, slither-ins to the core, thought Narcissa.

Narcissa listened to her Bellatrix's high pitched sounds that became low moans and saw her Lucius's look of triumph as the witch impaled herself and he sank into her warm softness. Both wizards were all the way in the lady who was kissing Draco and moaning while Lucius gripped her delightful roundness as she twisted in pleasure. Moans and twists of pleasure that went on and on, moans and twists that went on and on until she reached a plateau of passion where the wizards captured her spirit and drove her to an intensity that could not be sustained.

Narcissa watched her husband succumb to the rhythmic clenching of her sister in orgasm. His fingers gripped her as he spurted into his exquisite sister-in-law.

As the trio recovered, they discovered that Draco was primed for another round.

An hors d'oeuvre of Granger helps one with the piece de resistance, thought Draco. Or is it an oeuvre of hors helps one resist the piece?

Despite the play on words, Draco wasn't certain he was as sophisticated as he was pretending to be. He had been carried aloft by the teasing and the broom chase, and he had been excited by the foreplay and the double penetration of a lovely lady, but he was thinking he was not as special to her as he once thought he was. Recalling Miss Granger, perhaps women were more wanton and less romantic than he had been led to believe.

Things became even more complex when Bellatrix reached out to him and pulled him close while cooing that he was handsome and loving and that she wanted him more than any one else, while handling his erect member and guiding him between her opening legs. He was thinking it would be ungentlemanly to not play the game he had joined, and he told her she was lovely and gracious and special as he raised her feet in the air to make her present her furry slit, and when he began his entry, she was lovely and gracious and special, and he held her hands down and rode her like the stud he was pretending to be, and she liked it and went wild under him, and he let himself enjoy her shape and feel and sound, and he let himself enjoy his rising tension, and he thought he felt the ripple of her orgasm as he exploded in her.

Wow, thought Narcissa.

As Narcissa stepped away from the scene of the three cuddling, she heard Severus return. It occurred to her that she had chided Severus for his lapses as a partner, but she was also guilty. She could have left for the school when he had instead of staying at the Manor. She covered her slip by telling him that she had been checking that she hadn't left anything behind.

"Had you," he asked, willing to help her pack.

"No, there's nothing for me here," she said.