The Hill

Chapter 10: The Hill

"Yoo hoo! Spidey! Here we are! Spidey! Yoo hoo!"

A few minutes later, Hermione saw movement on the horizon. "Well done, Bellatrix. Here they come."

"It's a bright, sunny day. We're easy to see," said Narcissa.

Bloodthirsty witches, thought Lucius.

I'm surprised they're not mooning them, thought Severus.

The spiders roamed the rolling hills of the grassland in hunting packs. There was no hope of catching them, and any part of a skirmish line could be overwhelmed if one or more packs turned on them.

A week ago, Lucius had said, "By the time we get to the grassland, the spiders will know we're here, and they'll know what we're doing."

"We've flown over the grassland in reconnaissance," Severus had said. "We don't think there's a permanent nest there. The younger spiders cross the creek and use it as a hunting ground."

"That means that when we take the grassland, we'll be challenging the entire horde," Narcissa had said.

"Yes, but we hope only the young spiders who hunt there will defend the territory," Lucius had said. "Nevertheless, that's a lot of spiders."

"And we can't catch them or out maneuver them," Bellatrix had added.

"They will have to come to us," Hermione had said.

Thus it was that the centaurs and humans were on a flat-topped hill awaiting the charge. At dawn, the centaurs had destroyed the two bridges the spiders had built over the creek. The spiders could still cross, but they would arrive in a trickle instead of a solid mass. Or so the defenders hoped. They also hoped the hunters were impetuous and unorganized youngsters.

Before dawn, the centaurs had put in posts on the hill slope and strung wire between the posts. The centaurs hated fences, but the war had beat upon their sensibilities. The centaurs had even allowed the wizards to use their wands to hone the wire into razor sharpness and cover the posts with barbs before coating everything with poison. The reality of facing hundreds of charging spiders had arrived.

The fence was placed sixty yards from the flat top of the hill. All the centaurs were now armed with the explosive arrowhead that had a range of one hundred yards. The fence would slow the spiders and cause them to present a massed target within range. Or so the defenders hoped

No, thought Narcissa, waiting for the spiders to arrive is not worse than facing them when they do arrive. Enjoy your last ten minutes of breathing freely.

When the first group of spiders arrived at the fence, Lucius moved the young bucks under the iron discipline of the Aunties to face them. Several spiders tried the wire and died. A second group of spiders joined the first. As their excitement rose, several spiders tried climbing the poles, ran into the barbs, and died. When the spiders were nicely bunched with several digging at the poles, the Aunties ordered spaced volleys that began at the back of the cluster and moved forward, trapping the spiders between the explosions and the fence. It was a lesson by example – be calm, be methodical, and don't waste ammunition.

It was a good example for the first hour which saw three more groups appear and be caught between the artillery and the fence. No spiders appeared the second hour.

"This can't be good," said Narcissa.

"They're probably rebuilding the bridges," said Lucius.

They heard the spider horde first. Then they saw it as it swarmed over the rolling hills.

"They're coming at us as if our existence is an affront to right-thinking spiders everywhere," said Bellatrix.

The mass of spiders hit the fence, died by the scores, and circled the hill, looking for an opening. The centaurs aimed into any large clump that formed. Maddened by frustration, explosions, and mob hysteria, the spiders tore at the fence. In several places, the pile of dead spiders was forming a ramp that would let them over the wire. Other parts of the fence were close to collapse. Soon, the defenders on the hill would face the spiders coming at them from all directions.

"It's time for the gamble," said Lucius.

With a wave of their wands, Lucius and Severus blew away the section of the fence in front of the northwest corner of the hill that had a steep approach covered with loose gravel. The spiders poured through the breach into the massed fire of the centaurs.

Throughout all this, to her astonishment, Hermione was keeping count. She had estimated two hundred fifty in the last horde. She thought fifty had died on the fence. She thought another one hundred had died from artillery before Lucius and Severus created the gap. "Only one hundred left," she told herself.

In the midst of what should have been the desperate final engagement, Severus ordered a patrol and detailed Hermione to go with it.

Her inner self raged. They're depriving me of the final moment.

One of the young bucks, angry at being sent away from the action and as rebellious as any youngster, offered Hermione a ride on his back as he and a small group galloped around the top of the hill. They arrived at the east side of the hill in time to see a section of the fence waver.

We didn't know those spiders were here, thought Hermione as the fence went down.

She sent a flare with her wand. One of the Aunties was the first to arrive. The other two Aunties gathered the young bucks.

Hermione could see the spiders were going to reach the top of the hill before the artillery brigade could arrive to stop them. As Hermione fitted an explosive arrow to her bow, the first Auntie charged the horde. Spiders were trampled and scattered. Their attack was diverted as they swarmed over the demon in their midst. The centaur screamed as the venom hit. She went down. She frantically pushed spiders off her face. Her hooves flailed in the air as they opened and scattered her still-living body.

We want to go with grace and dignity, thought Hermione. But it's not going to be that way.

"Form ranks." The command by an Auntie cut through the stupor of the bucks, and they arranged themselves into two staggered rows. "Fire by volley."

"Rank one, fire."

"Rank two, fire."

The other witches and wizards appeared.

"Come on," yelled Severus as he waved his spear and ran to place himself between the bucks and the spiders.

We're infantry, thought Hermione

"Can we take the town?" asked the General.

"We have cavalry, my General; we can take the town."

"We do not have infantry, my General; we cannot hold the town."

"Rank one, fire ... Rank two, fire ..."

Grim working automatons that were once young bucks. Burning body parts of spiders. Flashes of shining steel. Flames and smoke and slaughter reaching to the bright, blue, uncaring sky.

There were two final volleys before everyone realized there was nothing left to shoot at, no living thing in front of them.

It was quiet. Bellatrix began to tremble. Narcissa sank to her knees, then to her hands and knees and began retching. Hermione stared straight ahead, not knowing she was gripping Lucius hard enough to leave bruises. Draco held Bellatrix as she shook uncontrollably. Severus brought water to Narcissa and helped her to her feet.

A wild-eyed Narcissa looked around. "Did we win?"

After the wizards had calmed the witches, the six mounted their brooms and flew reconnaissance over the grassland. The centaurs, stunned by what had been accomplished, did not protest. Finding no spiders, the adventurers flew from the hilltop to the kitchen of the manor where they opened the Champagne.

"I haven't asked before, and I don't want to be crass," said Hermione, "but how much land are we getting?"

"Only half as much as we conquered," said Draco.

"Your share is six square miles," said Lucius.

Hermione looked puzzled.

"At today's prices, it's worth about three million Galleons," said Lucius.

Hermione's wine glass shattered on the kitchen floor.

"It's usually the fireplace, but this is more domestic," said Bellatrix throwing her glass to shatter on the floor.

The others followed suit.

"Keeps the glass out of the ashes," said Narcissa, waving her wand to clean the floor tiles.

"We're ... We're ...," said Hermione. "But you were already," she said, looking at the four aristocrats.

Hermione and Severus exchanged glances. They had done this to help their friends; the money wasn't worth risking their lives; but now that they had done it, the money would change their lives.

Things clicked in Hermione's mind. The difference to Severus and her was monumental while the difference to the other four was incremental. They could have made the incremental difference in a safe manner, but they had chosen danger. More things clicked. Why couldn't her other friends counter their opponents with such well-planned operations? The arrogance of the aristocrats no longer seemed empty.

She accepted another glass of Champagne.

"Operating expenses are high for agriculture," said Lucius, "and you will have to save most of the profits from the good years to get you through the bad years, but you should be able to take one percent a year for your living expenses."

"Besides, there's nothing quite like being a landowner," said Narcissa.

Hermione let them pour her another glass. Who cares if I'm tipsy?

They had moved to the drawing room to relax and catch their breaths before soaking their aches away in the hot-tubs. Hermione was on the couch with Lucius.

"My tub is smaller, but my place is still comfortable," Hermione informed Lucius. "And cozy."

He looked into shining eyes. "Yes, it is," he said.

I'm sure your 'place' is very cozy, he thought.

He turned and told the group that Hermione and he would be going to her flat just as Severus and Narcissa stood and announced they were leaving for the castle.

Bellatrix twirled her finger in Draco's hair. "We're alone. Think one hot-tub will do? I can sit in your lap." Her fingers stroked the growing bulge in his trousers.

Right here. Right now. He ripped her shirt open. He cupped her breasts. Her tongue was in his mouth. He tore her bra off. His tongue was on her nipples. She was on the rug. He pulled her trousers off. She encouraged him. He yanked her knickers down. She opened her legs for him. He plunged into the war-torn, bruised, dirty, disheveled, most beautiful woman in the world. She moaned. She rocked as he rode her. Bliss exploded in his head. She was flushed. She must have come while he was gripping her ass and gushing into her. She smiled. Bath time.

Meanwhile, back at one of the private baths for professors, Narcissa had pushed her favorite soap button, the red ruby one, and was reaching across Severus to push her favorite bubble button, the pink pearl one, but Severus had his own favorite buttons to push.

"That's not fair, Sevvie. I want my bubbles."

"So do I."

"That's boobies," she said. "You aren't getting impatient, are you?"

"What's there to get impatient about?" he asked.

"Insensitive clot," she said.

She reached down to hold him. Oh my, perhaps he was getting impatient. She was thinking he should learn one of the virtues as she straddled him. She was determined to be an example as she slid onto him and an involuntary sigh escaped her. This felt so good that she knew it was best to wait patiently for your special wizard. She was making soft satisfied noises as she moved against him. She was patiently embracing him and murmuring that he was her darling and covering her lover with gentle kisses, and surely, he could see there was no reason to rush any of this. The moment she had patiently been waiting for arrived, and the small of Narcissa's back arched with a will of its own as she clutched her wizard and whimpered her need for him until the ecstasy of patience descended upon her and the world dissolved to Severus in her and in her arms. Then she patiently held him as his excitement grew and grew until he moaned and gripped her and completed their coupling. The agitated water stilled; they held each other; a froth of her favorite pink pearl bubbles graced them. Virtue rewarded.

The third couple was more hesitant.

When Lucius and Hermione had arrived at her flat, Hermione had a moment of anxiety. What did she do now? What did she want? She reminded herself that she wanted to seduce him or, better yet, she wanted him to seduce her. How did one go about this? She fell back on routine and asked, "Do you want some tea?"

"Tea would be good," he said. "We can sip it while we have our bath."

We? Bath? she thought. That was encouraging.

While she was filling the kettle with water, he stepped up behind her and put his arms around her waist. She sighed and leaned back into him. She liked the feel of him against her. His left hand left her waist to stroke her hair.

"Do you mind?" he asked. He waved his wand and the water in the kettle was boiling.

Oh, do that to me, she thought.

Then his arms encircled her. She put her arms over his so that he would not lose his grip and pressed back against him. She felt his member growing and did a sensuous wiggle.

Do you like it? Do you want it? she thought.

She moved his arms up to her breasts. He held them softly, almost teasing her.

"You're very pretty," he said quietly.

She shook her head no in disbelief. How could she, a bookish witch, be pretty?

"Yes, you are," he insisted. "I'll show you."

Remaining behind her, he guided her to the full-length mirror in the hall. She saw an ordinary-looking girl with a handsome wizard's arms around her. Keeping his right arm around her waist in a possessive manner, his left hand brushed her hair back.

"Aristocratic. Intelligent. A wizard could spend a lifetime enjoying your expressive face," said Lucius the conqueror.

His lips and tongue nibbled from below her ear to her shoulder where he nipped her. She thought she looked a bit dreamy and flushed. Her nipples pressed against her bra, and she wondered if that was obvious in the mirror. As she silently lamented her modest bust, his hands fondled her breasts through her shirt.

With one hand on a breast, the other swept back some bushy locks to reveal more of her face. He admired her reflection in the mirror and whispered in her ear. "Classy lady."

She wanted him to have her. She was helping him unbutton her shirt. It was off. His fingertips seemed to vibrate as they traced the top of a young witch's breasts. Her head leaned back as those marvelous fingertips explored under her bra. Then his hands were unfastening her trousers to reveal the black lace trim of crimson knickers. His eyes seemed to shine, and she was glad she had decided to dress with style under her campaign clothes. She kicked off her shoes. The trousers slid over her hips and down her legs. She kicked off her trousers. He admired her reflection in the mirror and whispered in her ear. "Beautiful, sweetheart."

He unfastened his trousers and let himself press against her. Only a pretty silk garment separated him from what she wanted him to have. She leaned her head back and moaned. She moved sinuously. She couldn't help it.

His hands slid down the form that was doing its slow weave, across her abdomen where lust was pooling, and over her silk covered void crying out for attention. They reached the tops of her legs. She put her hands on his as his fingers caressed her inner thighs. His left forearm and hand moved to her breasts while his right hand shifted to silk-covered folds. Delicate movements had Hermione moaning and wanting more. Delicate movements matched her rhythm as she twisted in his intimate embrace. When he whispered that she was the woman he wanted, all prudence left the young witch, and her hands pressed his exploring fingers against her as she sought more of the unbearable ecstasy. Her movements were no longer delicate.

Her mind blanked out.

He felt her pounding heart as he held her. She sagged against him while a red flush covered her face and breasts.

He checked his still-erect cock in the cleft of her silk-covered ass. He was surprised he had not had an orgasm. He managed to say, "I want inside you." He waltzed her to the bed and pushed her, face down, on the quilt. Her writhing against his cock had pushed him to the edge of reason. He lusted for this bossy little witch. The roused animal said, "I want to take you like my bitch."

She knows what she is, he thought as she murmured, "Yes, yes," and her hands pushed at her knickers and she shimmied them down to mid-thigh.

He would be slow and tease her. He was at the young girl's furry slit. He held her firmly – frustrating the struggles of his bitch in heat to impale herself as he slowly dipped into her, slightly deeper each time, relishing every sound and move. He was completely in. He could feel her spongy patch. His slow descents into her gave it a rhythmic massage. Her face was becoming soft. She's beautiful, he realized.

Long slide in. Accompanying sigh. Pulling out, wet and glistening. Ache to be back in. Slowly. Sighs becoming moans. Building pressure. Holding out to feel her spasms. World narrowing to unbearable pressure. Her smile. He sank into her and stayed as she squirmed.

He made the small moves against her sensitive spot that took her for the long ride up her slope of passion, welcoming the sighs becoming moans. He fought the building pressure to gush into her, filling a desirable mate with his sperm. He wanted to experience this woman's spasms. He saw her smile. He had dreamed about Hermione Granger wriggling on his cock. He watched her face contort and her fingers grip the quilt. He felt her intimate ripple. It was wonderful.

He wanted to be nestled between her thighs when he completed his possession. He pulled her knickers off and arranged her on her back – sliding back in with her sighing and looking at him and spreading her legs wider. He began moving in and out. He couldn't stop. He let her watch him as he felt the pressure build until he was pounding her and it was too much to contain. "Oh, Hermione."

He held her, feeling something more than physical satisfaction.

This woman is dangerous, he thought.

I do not want to fall in love with Hermione Granger, he thought. But he continued to hold her. She seemed to like it, showing no signs of wanting to part from him.

After their bath, they decided to go out for lunch. The sex had helped, but the horror of battle was still inside them, and they wanted to be reassured by the bustle of other people that existence was still ordinary. As they stood by the door ready to leave, she straightened his tie and adjusted his collar.

She's already acting like a wife, he thought. Bloody hell, I like it.

He took her to a hotel restaurant that was slow and pricey but reliable, where she surprised herself by ordering and devouring a large steak.

"I'm becoming a primitive predator," she said.

She became thoughtful. Could she talk to this man, confide in him? It was time to find out. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"It's about my land although I'm not certain I should bother you," she said.

"I'm flattered that you ask," he said. "My reply is that I make my living by managing land and investments."

She looked hesitant.

"You're thinking we may become opponents in the coming conflict, and you're wondering if you can trust me," he said.

She nodded yes. It occurred to her that she was more cautious about her land than about her sex.

"The Malfoy family has been prominent for almost a thousand years. Empires, wars, revolutions – they've come and gone. We're still here," he said. "We're investors and executors and advisors, and we prosper because we can be trusted."

"And conquerors," she added.

"On occasion," he admitted. "But investing and creating good will is better for long-term survival."

She looked skeptical.

"You see us at a low point," he said. "For the last one hundred years, the family talent has run thin. We made poor decisions, and then we made desperate decisions to rectify the poor decisions."

Hermione had the wild and immodest thought that she could be a worthwhile addition to the Malfoy family talent. It was a new perspective on things.

Lucius continued. "There are a number of items to consider. You are new to land ownership, and you need to learn how to manage it. The next year will be difficult since you will be at school and you will want to concentrate on your studies. Eventually, it might be better to sell some of the land and make diversified investments, and it might be better to divide your wealth between the wizard and non-wizard world."

"You have non-wizard investments?" she asked.

"Considerable," he replied. "But discretion is necessary. The non-wizard government will want to tax your new wealth – tax it very heavily – and you have already paid a heavy tax to the wizard government."

She remembered that they had only received half the acreage they had conquered. The centaurs had helped, but the Malfoys could have hired wizard mercenaries and kept out of danger themselves.

They covered the various types of contracts, the costs for land management, and the fees for brokerage in case she wanted to diversify. She wasn't happy about the bribes needed to surreptitiously acquire non-wizard assets, but she was even unhappier about being taxed again. They could be patient since she was not yet an adult in the non-wizard world.

The non-wizard world! Her adventure and wealth! Omigod, what am I going to tell my parents?

Their business discussion had made her more relaxed around Lucius, and it had made her more admiring of him. This doesn't have to be romance, she thought. He's merely an admirable and comfortable companion. And he's sexy.

"Do you want to stay the night?" she asked.

"Very much," he said.

She hesitated. "Maybe you shouldn't," she said.

"You look troubled," said Lucius.

"I've been waking up in the middle of the night. I think I've been screaming about spiders, but there's no one to ask," she said. "I sit and stare into the dark."

"We all stare into the dark," said Lucius, "but we don't have to do it alone."

The next morning, Hermione went with Lucius to meet the others and consult with the centaurs about the newly conquered land. The centaurs reported that the spiders were keeping to their side of the stream. The centaurs were careful to show no hostility whatsoever to spiders who respected the new boundaries.

"You're invited of course," said Sylvia, one of the war-Aunties who had trotted up to Hermione.

"Invited?" asked Hermione.

"The victory celebration tomorrow evening," said the centaur. "We'll have rabbits and greens from the meadow, nuts and berries and squirrels from the woods, and seeds and pheasants from the grassland."

"A new-territory feast," stated Hermione.

"Yes," agreed the centaur. "And memorial ceremony for the fallen Auntie."

Hermione and the others spent most of their time until the celebration sitting in front of a fireplace – finding solace in the company of fellow veterans, dreaming the fire, and sipping sherry to ease the aches and take the edge off the terrible memories. They circulated at the feast and found that only a few older centaurs did not accept them. When they left, it was late, and they were exhausted.

"May I escort you home," Lucius asked Hermione, "and stay?"

Hermione smiled yes. She was discovering there was nothing like a wizard for keeping one's feet warm.

Hermione climbed into bed with Lucius, wrapped herself around him with lascivious intent ... and fell asleep. When she woke the next morning, her head was on Lucius' shoulder, her arm was around him, and her toes were a delicious temperature. It's only a temporary fling; becoming attached to Lucius Malfoy would be folly.

He looked so peaceful that she couldn't resist running her fingers through his hair and nuzzling him. He woke, but he was not peeved. He nuzzled her back. They progressed from gentle kisses to loving kisses to passionate embraces with her lying on top of him. He raised her night gown and let her straddle him. She kissed him and made small noises as he slid in as if he belonged with this witch. She knew it would always be easy for him.

Omigod, he feels good.

He made gentle love to her as she enjoyed the affection, reached her plateau, and went wild. The bolt of bliss shot through her. Lucius held the flushed and panting Hermione until she returned to earth whereupon he rolled her onto her back, put her feet by his ears, and rode her until she was, once again, writhing for the keeper-of-the-warm-toes. She hoped Severus and Draco were taking equally good care of Narcissa and Bellatrix.

It had been a strange summer.

END