New Year's

Chapter 16: 28 December 10:00 AM -- 5 January 8:00 PM – New Year's

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy. Good morning, Mrs. Nott. Hello, Draco. Hello, Theo." It was a little after ten in the morning on 28 December, a Saturday. I had just left the bed and embraces of Penelope Clearwater, who was certain she was sending me into a nest of snakes and was lamenting that she hadn't prepared a protective amulet for me. I was now waiting to see who was first in line for hexing my bits off.

"Oh, Hermann, we were afraid you weren't going to come," said Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Nott, embracing me. I hugged them back since it would have looked suspicious to recoil from them. Draco and Theo pumped my arm and patted me on the back. Something's going on, I thought.

Mr. Kurmin had arrived yesterday with the three goblins, and the three goblins had claimed the Master Bedroom since no one was there. They refused to believe the story that someone from Durmstrang was staying there. Everyone assured me that we had much better rooms to offer the goblins. We decided the best approach was to be spontaneous. Mrs. Malfoy would present me and talk to the goblins. The others would stand by outside in case the goblins were obstinate. I changed into my Durmstrang cloak, and Mrs. Malfoy knocked on the door.

"Gentlemen," said Mrs. Malfoy, "let me introduce Mr. Busch from Durmstrang."

"Sirs," I said, "glad to make your acquaintance."

"We were here first."

"We didn't think you existed."

"We're not going to give our names."

"Mr. Busch was here earlier," said Mrs. Malfoy. "He cleansed the place. Surely, you have noticed that this is not a typical Death Eater room."

Mrs. Malfoy continued, "You can see he exists. He's not going to ask for your names."

"You weren't here when we arrived."

"I had business in London," I said.

The goblins were looking at the Durmstrang cloak. I could guess what was running through their minds. The German wizards had both the best record and the worst record for dealing with goblins. Throughout history, and even now, goblins were better treated in Germany than anywhere else. During the goblin-wizard wars, however, the German wizard campaigns were nearly genocidal. Some people would strike out the 'nearly' from the description.

"I don't know what Mr. Kurmin was thinking," said Mrs. Malfoy. "I kept telling Mr. Kurmin that Mr. Busch was returning and that we had much better rooms for you."

"Would you like to see the other rooms?" added Mrs. Malfoy.

The other rooms were individually smaller, but there were three bedrooms, a nearby conference room, and a separate bath. The goblins decided that Mr. Kurmin had made a mistake in the arrangements, but we all declared it had been a temporary misunderstanding.

While moving the goblins, I managed to pull Mrs. Malfoy into a private room. "You were brilliant," I told her. Her response was to give me an affectionate embrace, blush, and dash off.

That was a strange response, I kept thinking. I puzzled over it the entire time we spent on lunch. I had asked what we were doing for the goblins' lunch. No one was sure when or if they wanted to eat. I assured them that goblins ate lunch and volunteered to ask the three upstairs their preferences. I knocked on the conference door, stood politely outside while they put their confidential papers away, and then asked about their wishes for lunch. I returned with the goblins' request for soup, biscuits, and lots of cheese, which sounded good to all of us. I got the expected preparation time from the elves, and returned to tell the goblins when they could expect lunch. Later, I was again knocking on the conference room door to deliver the lunch tray. I told the others that the goblins had expressed appreciation for our kindness. If we had been in Germany, the goblins would have eaten with us. All this time I was really thinking about Mrs. Malfoy.

When I told Mrs. Malfoy that she was brilliant, I expected either anger because of Mrs. Nott, or a neutral thank you as she disowned me because of Mrs. Nott, or a passionate thank you despite Mrs. Nott. The blushing school girl response had me baffled unless that was her response to Mrs. Nott. Was that it? Did the two of them together mean an entirely different relationship with everyone starting at the beginning or almost at the beginning? They had both been pleasant to me at lunch, and that was encouraging. Did I need to worry about this? It was tempting, and it appeared the simplest not to get involved with either of them, but then I might have to contend with two scorned women. I would have to do something appropriate in order to survive.

During lunch, Mrs. Nott began planning the meals. I paid attention, asked questions, and made some suggestions that earned me approving smiles and slight blushes. My current reading was that both women were shy but willing partners. I hoped I was not being too optimistic.

Draco and Theo hauled me away for an afternoon of riding and playing catch. I reminded myself that I had better act like a schoolboy if I didn't want to arouse their suspicions. On the other hand, my behavior was understandable. If Barbara and Shelly and Terry were here, then Draco and Theo wouldn't want to whip out their sticks and go for a ride. Wait, let me rephrase that.

* * *

Because of my interaction with the goblins and because I was the neutral stranger, it was decided that I would greet the guests, usher them around, and act as go-between. It meant I didn't have anything in particular to do, but I was always on duty. Would I do any spying? I would take the advice I gave Patricia Clearwater and do none whatsoever. My job was to learn everyone's name and the group to which they belonged. That information was too valuable to compromise by snooping.

I thought only a few of the guests would be Death Eaters. They were simply rich and powerful individuals conspiring against the public interest. I was willing to bet even money that there were similar meetings happening around the world. One of the benefits of five of us being there to help was that Mrs. Malfoy would be free for private conversations. The return for hosting this affair was tips on investment opportunities. The Malfoy and Nott families could each make a small fortune. This was one reason they were grateful for my diplomatic, even friendly, treatment of the goblins.

The monetary value of the next several days was on my mind later that night when I had retired to the Master Bedroom. I answered Janice's knock on her adjoining door, seated her with a brandy, and then did the same for Narcissa.

"I realize these meetings are very important for your families," I told both of them.

They were glad to hear that. We were all dedicated to providing a secure meeting place with no disturbances. We would all be careful and private about our feelings and relationships.

"I know this sounds soppy," I said, "but I would like to give both of you a massage. Or would you like a bath and massage?"

"But you'll put us to sleep," they both protested. "Don't you want us?"

"Of course I do," I said. "I'm being romantic about it. Besides, both of you feel very tense."

They agreed that the stress of preparation and the confrontation with the goblins had taken their toll. They soaked in the tub while I played bath attendant and started a fire in the fireplace, and then both of them stretched out on the sheet in the bed while I gave them a massage until they were both asleep. I covered them with a sheet and quilt, took a tub myself, and then went to sleep on the couch.

Before falling asleep, I wondered if I had ruined everything. They had asked if I wanted them. That was an ideal time to ask them how they wanted to arrange it. Stupid Hermann. How did Draco manage with Barbara and Shelly? I wish I had Malfoy ability.

When I awoke the next morning, Janice and Narcissa were still asleep. I joined Draco and Theo for breakfast.

Since we didn't want our guests to know we had written records, I was busy memorizing the guest list, the meeting rooms, and the arrival and departure times. The memorization and secretly watching the two women had me fatigued. An hour before afternoon tea, I pleaded the need for a lie down and went to my room. I decided a warm bath might help.

A few minutes after he had left, Janice remarked that Hermann wasn't looking well and that she should check on him. Draco and Theo remained absorbed in their Quidditch book. Narcissa smiled and nodded that it was a good idea.

What am I doing? thought Janice. I should be angry enough that I never want to see him again. When I first arrived, I listened to Narcissa talk about him, and I knew they were a couple. I didn't keep anything a secret either. It wasn't long before Narcissa was giving me her knowing looks.

It's even worse that last night we practically threw ourselves at him, and he just gave us a massage. That's carrying chivalry too far, Mr. Busch. I could tell this morning that Narcissa was hurt, too. Damn his self-control and Middle European manners.

No, I shouldn't think that. He's behaving properly in front of our sons. He wants to act properly for our guests. What do Narcissa and I want him to do, chase us around the manor? Grab us as we squeal and drop our knickers? Well ... yes.

She continued to his room. "What about your son downstairs and your husband in prison?" said an inner voice. "What are you going to do, O Potions mistress," said the inner voice, "trade secret ingredients?"

Maybe he doesn't care for me any more. Maybe he has a girlfriend. He's been polite and nice to us all day, but that doesn't mean much. Damn his continental manners, again.

With this mix of thinking she shouldn't want him, fearing he didn't want her, thanking his good behavior, raging at him for Narcissa, and cursing his lack of demonstrativeness, Janice knocked and entered.

"Hi, Janice," said Hermann, sounding pleasantly surprised. He was a bit apprehensive, though, about his bits. Perhaps they planned to serve him his bits cold ... a bit at a time ... a bit out of sight of their sons ... bitter witches.

Seeing him and hearing him, her heart and step skipped a beat. The rest of the room went out of focus. Fate could not be so cruel that he did not want her.

"We're worried about you. You look tired. Are you well?" she asked, walking toward him.

"You took good care of us last night. Narcissa and I slept very well," she said, standing before him.

"But we missed you this morning."

At that, Hermann put his arms around Janice.

There was a long sigh as he enfolded her, as she laid her head on his shoulder, as he stroked her hair, as she pressed against him. She had forgotten how good it was to be held. It occurred to her that she couldn't stand there all day. There were people waiting downstairs. But she couldn't move either. She was kissing him deeply. She thought she would never stop. She didn't want to stop.

He was holding her and kissing her ... gentle, loving, but greedy kisses. It was natural for her to unbutton her blouse. She kissed him back, glad for his attention. She wanted to take off her bra for him. He was kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her lips. It was the most natural thing in the world for her to take off her knickers for him. Her skirt was around her waist, and her legs were spreading. His kisses were the gentlest she had known, but she felt the undercurrent of insistence and demand.

She was aware that he was entering her. She wanted him to enter her. She had forgotten how good it felt, how irresistible it was, how it made her move. She hadn't known she could be entered so easily. She was holding him and murmuring encouragement. He was all the way inside her ... loving and demanding. She knew he was taking her.

She was harmony: grunting, squishing, moving, giving.

Suddenly, there was a sharp piercing that went through her. She was gripping Hermann and gasping for breath.

Once again, there was the rhythmic, compelling, obscene, squishy noise. It wouldn't be the same if I weren't sloppily, noisily wet for him, thought Janice. She felt him grip her shoulders, her hips, the small of her back. She knew that he had taken her.

Janice hadn't known she could be possessed so effortlessly.

She sat beside him with a quiet stillness as she arranged her clothes and hair into something resembling a respectable mum. Their companionship permeated the room. He really does like me, she thought. Everything could be okay. The world doesn't have to be a lonely place.

"How do I look?" she asked. "I feel like the cat who's stolen all the cream."

"You look like a beautiful cat who's swiped all the cream," I said. Theo is going to kill me, I thought.

There is a type of peck on the check or forehead that happily married women give their husbands. It expresses more affection than a passionate smooch. Then she left to report on my good health.

I soaked in the tub a while and went to bed. I awoke to knocking on the door between Narcissa's room and mine.

"Which blouse do you prefer?" asked Narcissa, striding in with a garment in each hand.

I've given him two whole hours to rest, thought Narcissa. That should be enough for someone in good health. Janice hadn't said anything, but her attitude after visiting Hermann held no hint of concern. Janice's relaxed, serene, glowing, smug attitude had screamed volumes about his physical and mental state. Ah, yes, caring Janice had checked his health ... how considerate of motherly, concerned, caring Janice.

Back in Narcissa's room, several bras lay discarded on the bed. They had been too provocative ... I'm a married woman with a son ... or they hadn't been provocative enough ... I'm not an old maid. She had decided to dress appropriately in plain, white silk undergarments, which Hermann had always favored. I can't go waltzing in nude, the proprieties must be observed, she had thought, looking in the mirror one last time to check that the plain, white silk knickers flattered her derriere.

"And we need your help choosing the appetizers for tonight," she said, striding over to the bed.

"I've found the perfect appetizer." He had leaped out of bed and scooped her up.

"Hermann, you fool, put me down," she said. Perfectly healthy, she thought.

"Okay." He tossed her on the bed. She bounced. He bounced on top of her.

"We're supposed to be ... Mmmm ..."

"We're ... mmm ... supposed to be restrained ... mmm ... and ... discreet."

"Then don't make so much noise."

He was holding her wrists above her head, and the other arm was between her legs with his hand on her white-knickered round softness. He was devouring her lips, her mouth, her lips again. Alright.

He paused to look into her eyes. She gave him a demure smile. He returned to her lips and mouth ... this time consuming her calmly and gently. He moved down to her silk-covered breasts.

"Let me loose. You'll take all day," she said.

When he released her, she unfastened her bra, threw it across the room, and placed her wrists back above her head. He grabbed her wrists and returned to her breasts as if he were hungry for them. Narcissa moved in joy as he held her down and feasted on her.

When he noticed her knickers were sopping wet, he couldn't wait any longer. He pulled them down and off as she struggled. "Beast. Beast," she told him.

He came up between her legs, parting her thighs and sliding easily into her. Narcissa grunted and slopped as he looked into her shining eyes and pounded into her. Narcissa couldn't get enough. She wrapped her legs around him, pulled him in tight, and moved with him. They can hear me all the way downstairs, she thought. I don't care, she thought, just fuck me. I'll forgive you for Janice, sweetheart. Make love to me. My gods, I'm a little animal. How did he know I wanted to be ravished? I didn't know it myself, she thought. That was her last thought. She went blank as he romped on her. His darling undulated like a snake in rut. She squeezed the stuffing out of him.

Her lassitude soon passed. She was relaxed, serene, glowing, and smug. It must be contagious. She hopped in the shower and hopped back out. "Where'd you put my knickers, love?"

"I didn't 'put' them anywhere. I threw them across the room."

Right. She located them. They were cruddy now. Boy, had she been wet, but they had served their purpose. She hopped into her room ... the dark purple ones would do, even though they had seemed too racy before ... hopped back out and over to his bed. She put on her knickers and then sat beside him to put on her matching bra. She was starting to wonder if her animal coupling had bothered Hermann.

Hermann leaned over and gave her an adoring-husband peck on her forehead ... a seal of approval.

"You didn't tell me which blouse you liked," she accused him. Then she laughed at the look on his face and hugged him.

Narcissa thought about asking Janice if he had played rough with her, too ... decided not to.

A bit later, when Hermann came downstairs, the boys dashed outside to try the maneuvers described in the new Quidditch book while there was still some daylight.

Narcissa, feeling mellow, said, "It's great they play together." She poured the tea.

"And share," said Janice, passing the sugar.

"Sharing is good," said Narcissa, sipping her tea, surprising herself. She had always liked having Janice as a friend, but she hadn't realized she was willing to be this friendly. I'm feeling too mellow, she thought. It's his fault.

Janice thought about asking Narcissa if he had taken her effortlessly ... decided not to.

The two women moved the tea to the West lawn where they could watch the boys play. They're going to break their necks, they both thought. We won't be able to watch them play much longer, they both thought. The two women watched the boys until dark forced the end of practice ... even though neither cared for Quidditch, even though it was cold and windy outside. The boys clattered inside and down to the cellar where Draco pointed out several good brews.

* * *

We had to show Theo and his mum the Durmstrang circle dance with the elves acting as a rhythm section. While Theo, Draco, and I were practicing the dance, it occurred to everyone that the dance would be a good item for New Year's Eve. There wasn't much entertainment available since there wasn't anyone our visitors trusted. The three of us could dance, and it was simple enough for our guests to join us if they liked.

While we three boys took a break, the two women tried their own performance. It became rather interpretive. Janice and Narcissa danced and looked at me like women who had just made love and wanted to do it again. I was enjoying the performance.

"Mum!" said Draco and Theo. Draco and Theo knew Durmstrang boys didn't move like that, and they didn't want to know their mums moved like that. I knew their mums moved like that, and I had no objections at all to their dancing. Das ist ja geil. They could dance like that anytime they liked.

"We should dance on New Year's Eve, too," said Narcissa and Janice.

"No!!" said Draco and Theo and Hermann.

* * *

"Have you thought about giving up and going to bed?" said Draco.

"Perhaps I should," I said.

We had been playing cards after dinner. At least, everyone else was playing cards. As the cards passed through my hands, I had been trying to think about what to say to Narcissa and Janice. The other players' attitudes had gone from amusement to irritation to concern as I threw away winning hands and tried to play losing hands. I remembered that last night I had given the two women a speech about being rational and discreet, and this afternoon I had grabbed them and bonked them as they became available. I didn't have any excuse, and I didn't have any plans.

Luckily, everyone chalked my condition up to fatigue. I originally thought I had almost no role at all for the meetings. I was to memorize everyone, their groups, their meeting rooms, their requirements, and their arrival and departure times. I even worked out a timetable for the elves to get rest breaks. My job was to make sure that people and things arrived at the right places at the right times. All the hard work would be done by others. It slowly dawned on us that I was coordinating everything. I was 'The Butler.'

I made my apologies and went to my room. With a total lack of imagination, I decided to take a bubble bath. As I lowered myself into the water, Janice and Narcissa arrived. Completely out of ideas, I invited them to join me. Mein Gott, those two women were beautiful.

I said the only thing I could think of to say, "You're beautiful." Obviously, I was on my last legs.

"You were very sweet," said Janice, hugging me.

"Yes," said Narcissa, also hugging me. "This morning we were worried you didn't like us anymore."

"We know you're tired, Hermann," said Janice, "but we can do whatever you like."

"Narcissa's the lady of the house," said Janice. "I think she should be first tonight."

"Okay," said Narcissa, "but tomorrow night, Janice is first."

I sat there feeling totally insignificant. Naturally, those two would work everything out. What had I expected?

"I think you should let me take care of you," I said, soaping them up. I wanted them relaxed. They were amenable.

Narcissa hopped out of the tub, told me she would see me in a minute and danced into her bedroom.

"You'll come see me later, won't you?" asked Janice.

"If I possibly can," I said.

When I entered Narcissa's room, she was waiting in bed, but I could tell she was nervous. So was I. We had just agreed that I would take care of both women, and we had worked out a schedule. None of us knew how to go about this, and none of us knew if we could emotionally handle it. She was lying on her side, propped up by pillows.

"You look thoughtful," I said, lying beside her.

"This is different," she said.

I reached up and put my hand on her shoulder in a friendly, non-sexual manner. I was glad I was able to do that.

"Janice and Theo came Thursday night. It was obvious she couldn't wait till you arrived."

"I'm glad I'm considered good company," I said.

"Hmm," said Narcissa, looking at me.

I got the feeling I hadn't said quite the right thing.

"Did something happen?" I asked.

"We talked about you," she said, "while you were out trying to break your neck."

I gave her a 'tell me more' look.

"I don't know how to say this," she said, "but we decided to share."

Narcissa had a solemn air as she tossed the pillows aside and rested her head on my shoulder. Our private affair had become a social arrangement. It had become more serious for Narcissa.

"What do you think of us?" she asked.

I knew she was asking what I thought of her and Janice. "You're the one for me. You're the one I want. Janice is the one for me. Janice is the one I want."

"That doesn't make sense," said Narcissa.

"I know it doesn't, but that's the way it is."

Once again, I told myself to be patient with Narcissa ... that that was the best strategy. Then again, perhaps not. What did I know? I knew my pecker was about to burst with frustration. I had agreed to come to her bed, and now she was moody. I was tempted to hop over and see Janice. I fought that down. Something told me that would be the worst thing I could do. I consoled myself with the thought that I had agreed to care for them. That meant accepting the bad times as well as the good times. I consoled myself with the thought that she had talked to me, and that was the best thing that could happen.

What did I want? I finally admitted to myself that Narcissa was more important to me than sex. A devastating thought. If she wanted to talk and cuddle, then I would listen to her and hold her. That seemed best. Then again, perhaps not. What did I know? At any rate, I let her know I admired her, I told her I was glad she talked to me, and I held her. My pecker was still about to burst. It didn't help that a solemn, somewhat melancholy Narcissa was attractive and made me want to reassure her. I could start by showing her how sexy she was.

If I'm going to comfort Narcissa, I may as well do it well, I thought. I made certain she was comfortable with her head on my shoulder and then ran my free hand through her hair, stroking her temple. I could feel her relax. I was thinking how marvelous it was that Narcissa wanted to spend the night with her arms around me.

She moved and she was sighing and pushing her inner thigh against me. She moved again and she was giving me invitational kisses while her hand was exploring my face. My pecker moved and raised the sheet several inches. She moved and draped her hair across me.

"That does it," I told her. "You coquette, you've tempted me beyond reasonable bounds. I'm no longer responsible for my actions. The animal's loose."

"I'm going to talk dirty to you," I announced.

She smiled.

"Kiss me," I told her. "Kiss me gently."

"I like it when you lie on top of me and kiss my eyes, my nose, my mouth. I like it when you explore my face with your lips," I told her.

"You like it when I stroke your temples and run my fingers through your hair, don't you?" I said.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Deep inside, you're an affectionate lady. I know you are."

"You want to be held by someone who likes you, someone who wants you, someone who nibbles on you and whispers, 'Oh, Narcissa,' in your ear, in your pretty ear."

"You want me to run my hands over you, over your shape, over your smoothness."

"You want me to make you purr, make you purr and press against me like you're doing now."

"Look at how you're dressed: a plain, white cotton flannel nightgown ... soft, cozy ... flattering your elegant figure ... inviting me to reach under it, to feel your warm skin, your firm muscles ... to imagine you moving for me. You're shameless."

"You're tempting me to nibble my way down to between your legs ... between the thighs you've raised so the nightgown slides up ... between the legs you're parting for me."

"You want me to tease my way up your legs to your pretty, furry self, don't you?"

"Yes," she said.

It was almost quiet. My lapping tongue didn't make any noise. My watching her face as she was licked didn't make any noise. Her hips and thighs squirming didn't make any noise. Her final pink blush didn't make any noise. Her whimpering and arching into me at the end made some noise.

"Cat got your tongue?" Narcissa asked, catching her breath.

"You minx, you have me aching to make love to you, to make you happy."

"Put your hands beside your head, sweetheart. I want to hold you and mount you."

"You don't mind a little possessiveness, do you?"

"Possess me," she said.

"I love it when you spread your legs wide for me. I like the way you look at me when you spread your legs for me."

"You're beautiful."

"I like the way your lips part when you're held and mounted ... your soft gasps ... your look when you feel yourself entered."

"I like watching myself sliding into you ... sliding easily into you."

"I'm too loose," she said.

"No, you're just right. You're just right."

"If you were tight, I would get halfway in you."

"I'd get halfway in you and say, 'Oh, you're too beautiful.'"

"I'd get halfway inside you and say, 'Oh, I like you too much.'"

"And then I'd gush all over the place."

"I like it the way you are. It lets me make love to you."

"I can watch myself slide into your furry center, watch as I get wet and slick from you, watch the way you move."

"You move so nicely."

"You look so pretty."

"I like your squishy goodies, Narcissa."

"I love it between your legs."

"Move for me. Slither like the little animal you are. Yes. Like that. A big, fierce snake ¬ held down, penetrated. Yes. Sweating ... gasping ... writhing ... smiling. Give yourself to me. Give yourself to me. Gods, I love taking you."

"Yes. Like that. Cream all over me. Squeeze me."

"You look so nice when you've been taken. You look like a little girl."

"Gods, I'm jealous. I don't want anyone else having you."

"You know what's going to happen next, don't you? You know I can't resist you."

"I'm going to look at you. I'm going to look at you and think how pretty you are. I'll think about how pretty you are, and all my sperm will load."

"Then I'll think how much I like you. I'll think how much I like you, and I won't be able to stop. I'll come inside you."

"Let me move in and out of you. Let me build up the tension. Yes, I love seeing you spread your legs wider so I can have you. I can't believe you spread your legs for me, honey."

"It's happening. I can't help it. I have to have you."

"Beautiful."

"Sweetheart."

"Oh ... I like you too much."

"I like you too much."

There was a silent pause.

"I like holding you afterwards ... nestled between your legs, your arms around me. This is good for me," I whispered in her ear.

Narcissa was running her fingers through my hair. "You beast, was that any way to talk to your lady, to your witch? And now I'm going to spend tomorrow greeting guests and dripping sperm into my knickers."

"I want you to think about that every time you see me tomorrow, Mr. I'm-so-clever-I'm-going-to-seduce-the-lady-of-the-house. I want you to remember what you've done, what you did to me, and that I'm oozing your sperm into my knickers."

Okay, I thought.

Later, after she wrapped herself around me and kissed me goodnight, I tried to justify my actions. "You brought this upon yourself with your wanton ways. It's not my fault I became an animal. I can't muster any sympathy for you."

I noticed she was sleeping the sleep of the innocent. Just like a woman not to listen.

I awoke very early in the morning with an erection. I admit I was tempted to visit Janice, and possibly that would have been better, but I didn't want to abandon Narcissa. It seemed poor form to hop from one bed to another. I nuzzled Narcissa and discovered she was awake.

Narcissa awoke to find Hermann still beside her. Did he really intend to spend the entire night with me? she wondered. Does he like me that much? He's nuzzling me. Let me kiss you back, darling. Do you have an erection? I was dreaming about you, and I'm ready for you. Yes, between my legs, honey. Anything you want. Oh, he's in. It's making me wiggle. I can't help it. Oh, my gods, it feels good. He already has me. I can't stop. I'm going to come for you, darling. Want to have me? I'm coming. Oh. Oh, gods.

Yes, love, she thought. Come inside me ... yes ... oh, sweetheart.

* * *

"Good morning, you two," said Janice, standing beside the bed and holding a tea tray.

The two women smiled at each other. I was feeling embarrassed. I wasn't used to a third party, and I hadn't visited Janice as I promised. I was also feeling left out since Janice and Narcissa were discussing what they were going to wear today. I kept telling myself that I couldn't wish for anything better and that Janice and Narcissa being friends was essential for a harmonious relationship, not to mention my survival. Something told me not to interfere. Luckily, I held my petty jealousies under control while Janice and Narcissa renewed their friendship. I even recognized that the scene was pleasant and comfortably domestic. But I was a young and selfish wizard, and I felt left out.

Janice and Narcissa wanted me to help choose their outfits. Okay, now I felt better.

* * *

The day was the expected hassle. Narcissa and Janice kept making comments about what the guests did for a living. I tried to remember and secretly write this information down. I spent the day greeting people, showing people to their rooms, coordinating the food and drink, hiding to refresh my memory from the guest list, and hiding to secretly write down additional information.

* * *

I entered the kitchen as Janice hurled a burnt crumpet into the corner. It shattered.

I'm next, I thought. Draco had mentioned that Mrs. Nott "needed help" with the afternoon tea service, but he was too busy locating the rest of the sherry to spend time in the kitchen.

"You," she said, glaring at me. Thanks, Draco, I thought.

"Where've you been?" she asked. I wondered if the real answer to that question was, "With Narcissa all night." It wasn't an answer I dared give.

"I just heard you needed help."

"You just heard. I've been down here for ages. I've been carrying trays all over this bloody manor. You just heard."

She continued, "You couldn't check on me yourself, could you? No. You're the major domo, walking around with his nose in the air, not noticing anybody."

Uh-oh, I thought. Mentioning that everyone was very busy was not going to get me out of this one.

"I'm sorry I neglected you. This is the first time I've done this type of thing. I'm probably making lots of mistakes. I should have noticed you needed help earlier."

"What are you doing now?" I asked. "I'll try to help."

She seemed to soften. Taking my life in my hands, I approached her.

"I'll go get the spare biscuits from the cellar," I told her.

In the cellar, I met Draco and Theo having a nip of brandy.

"When this is over, we're getting pissed," they told me.

"Good plan," I said.

Back in the kitchen, the elves had come out from hiding, and they and Janice had the teapots on the trays. I massaged Janice's shoulders while the elves arranged the biscuits on the trays.

"You have the best shoulders." I said.

"You could be naughtier, you know?" said Janice.

"In front of the elves?" I whispered.

"I've always thought elves were kinky. They might enjoy it," she said.

House-elves might be kinky, I thought, but I wasn't, and Janice wasn't ... was she?

I was having visions of Janice bent over the table with her skirt up and the elves cheering us on, when Narcissa stuck her head in the kitchen door, nodded approvingly at my tending Janice, saw the trays, said, "Good, it's nearly ready," and dashed back to the guests.

Janice continued, "And it wouldn't hurt you to do the naughty stuff for us."

Janice thought about what she had said and then had a sudden inspiration. "But it might hurt Narcissa and me. We would be giving up some control of our lives."

By the gods, I love intelligent women, I thought. I did a quick concealment spell, held her shoulders, and planted a kiss on her forehead. That worked. Now all I had to do was distribute the tea and biscuits while concealing the growing erection I had for my brainy sweetie.

Some sanity returned as I delivered the trays. What was I thinking? Smart, capable Janice could have me for breakfast. But I still wanted her. Where's my sense of self-preservation? I'm hopeless, I thought.

* * *

It was midnight before the manor was quiet.

I went to my room where Janice was asleep. We had sent an exhausted Janice to bed at ten. Janice was our morning person, and she would have to cope with our early rising guests while the rest of us were still looking for a clean pair of socks. I quickly showered and quietly climbed into bed to discover that Janice was awake.

I wished Janice was still asleep. I had played 'The Butler' all day, and I had no social energy left. Part of me said Janice deserved better treatment than I could provide at the moment. Part of me wondered why Janice and Narcissa couldn't believe they were the most desirable women on the face of the earth and stop pestering me about it.

"You had a hard day," said Janice.

"Uh-huh," I said as I stared at the ceiling.

"Narcissa and I thought you were going to fry Mr. Helksimer, right where he stood."

"That never occurred to me," I said. "I tried to find out what his complaint was and what we could offer him to make him happy. He calmed down a little, but I never found out what he wanted."

"How did your day go?" I asked.

"Like Narcissa's. Helped the elves with the food. Helped Draco and Theo with the trays. Spent most of the day socializing. Spent most of the day looking at you. I had to change my knickers twice."

"You're making that up. I like it, but I think you're making it up."

"Ask Narcissa. She had to change hers three times. You really got her juices going last night. And you didn't even visit me. You cad!"

"So what do I do to make it up to you?"

"I don't know. I don't know if you can. I'm all hurt and betrayed," said Janice.

"I understand," I said as I nuzzled her. "I done you wrong. Where does it hurt the most? I'll kiss it."

"My heart."

"Let's see, that's right about here, isn't it," I said as I poked a finger into her left breast.

"Ah. You barbarian."

"Oops. That's okay. I can kiss it and make you feel better."

"Are you sure you've done this before?" said Janice.

"No. Am I supposed to tickle you now?"

"Ahhhhh! Stop that!" yelled Janice.

"Do you think that's enough foreplay?" I asked.

"I'm good to go," said Janice.

The next forty five minutes were routine and sappy. I began by kissing my darling Janice, who responded like a mature woman who liked the affection. What can I say? It was fun being affectionate to Janice, to let her know how much I liked her. She returned all the affection. Janice made me feel like I was the one she wanted in her life. The lavish affection became more sensual as she offered me her breasts and I ran my hands over her. Janice was eventually moaning and asking me to take her. I told her that of course I would. I first parted Janice's legs, parted Janice's folds, and applied my tongue to Janice. Of course I enjoyed listening to Janice moan with pleasure, and of course I enjoyed feeling Janice writhe with pleasure. It's what I wanted for her. I was happy when she cried out and her thighs rhythmically pressed against me. Then I entered her. It's boring to talk about, but there's nothing like entering your lady. It's the best part. It's coming in out of the cold. I was patient after entering Janice. I waited to see what she wanted. I felt her get wetter and slicker, and I saw her face glow with pleasure. Janice wanted more sex. I entered Janice all the way and pressed against her since that would give Janice the most pleasure and it would let me last the longest. I made love to Janice as she moaned and wiggled, as she grunted and thrashed, and as she cried out and gripped me with her arms and legs. I held Janice as the tendrils of warmth and bliss and oneness spread through her. I then moved in and out of Janice. I liked it that Janice was a mature woman and that the friction was light and slick. I liked being in Janice. We celebrated the slow, steady buildup of tension and my final release. Thusly, I laid Janice.

I lay there with Janice asleep on top of me, and I briefly wondered what two highly desirable women were doing with a Durmstrang student since we had been surrounded by rich and powerful men. I had seen both Janice and Narcissa decline several advances today. They might be having affairs unknown to me, but it didn't seem likely. Just before midnight, Narcissa had asked me to escort her to her room. Narcissa had whispered to me that she would understand if I spent the entire night with Janice, and it would be proper of me to do so, but I could visit her if I wanted. There were no spells or locks on our adjoining doors.

* * *

It looked like it was going to be a rotten New Year's. Draco's and Theo's little friend, Hermann, had been banished from the Malfoy Manor because of the unfortunate incident after Christmas when little Hermann, temporarily forgetting his manners, had eaten their mums. Draco and Theo had been furious. "You go to your Durm," they told little Hermann, "and you Strang in your Durm."

My eyes popped open. It was another nightmare not to tell Narcissa. Or Janice either.

* * *

My eyes popped open again at eight when an elf brought me breakfast. Everyone was being considerate of lazy Hermann. I was at the front door of Malfoy Manor a half hour later to greet people and organize the second day of meetings.

* * *

It was shortly after lunch, and all the guests were in meetings. Forewarned by the near disaster with Janice yesterday, I went looking for Narcissa and found her in the reading room.

"You managed to get marvelous photographs of the Snitch-Birds," I said.

"It's the photographer's hard work," she replied. "At first he was frustrated, but he came to see them as a challenge."

We were standing before a large photograph of Lillith. Checking that no one was looking, we held hands. She waved her wand for a privacy spell. No one would be suspicious since we had all taken to giving ourselves short time-outs. Narcissa turned, placed one arm around my neck, and laid her head on my shoulder. I gently moved my hand across her shoulder and down her spine. I would take a minute to show my lady that I cared for her.

"I have to be careful, Narcissa. I could spend all day holding you." My nose was in her hair, she was in my arms, and the rest of the world was fading away.

It then occurred to me that I was here holding her because I was weak and poor. The powerful guests were in their meetings, discussing how they wanted to make money next year. When they left their meetings, women like Narcissa were at their beck and call. They didn't have to worry about namby-pamby cuddling.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

I was thinking that I had to cure my addiction to perceptive women.

She stepped back and gave me a sharp look. "Are you thinking about Janice? Did you have fun last night?"

Oh, wonderful, now I had to confess. "The house is full of rich and powerful men who could help you on your way to greatness."

She smiled. "You're jealous."

"Who wouldn't be?"

"Hold me," she said. Yes, she thought, the house is full of men who would like to get their hands on me. But even if I liked them, they really wanted to get their hands on the Malfoy fortune.

"Are you after my money?" she asked me.

"What!"

"Of course you're not," she said. Independent, touchy, barely-this-side-of-arrogant Hermann wouldn't be, she thought.

She thought about similar half-bloods, but Hermann hadn't had the experiences that had tempted them to the dark side. Unless Janice and I count as the dark side. Welcome to our pits of depravity, sweetie.

* * *

It was about six in the evening, and we were having a social gathering on the lawn outside the dining room. Almost all of the business had been concluded. The guests were relaxing, and some were becoming boisterous.

Someone voiced that I was occupying Lucius Malfoy's rooms.

"Hey, does Mrs. Malfoy have a protective spell on that door between you?" asked someone.

"I never thought about it," I said without thinking.

That gormless response turned out to be the best answer.

"He never thought about it!" resounded one voice in its masculine supremacy.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," went the entire crowd of dominant males.

"He never thinks about it," sing-songed the voice of some self-satisfied womanizer.

"It must be the runt of Durmstrang," grunted a virile specimen.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," went the entire crowd of dominant males.

"Well, well, well, it's little Hermann," asserted a model of manliness.

"We don't have to worry about you and our daughters, do we," stated a father figure.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," went the entire crowd of dominant males.

It was time to play the role of an aristocrat.

"I'm glad to have provided you with some entertainment," I said, "but I'm acting as a guest in the Malfoy home. I can assure you that your wives and daughters would be safe here."

The reply didn't make much sense, but it was important that I say something. This is what associating with the Malfoys will do to a person. It was getting to the point that even I could act like a nobleman.

When I left the gathering, to leave those real men to their plotting, I saw Janice and Narcissa looking at me with concern. They had heard everything. I walked erect, and I winked at them. They smiled. They totally lit up. I had endured scorn, remained calm, and given an adequate reply that had not offended any of their guests.

For reasons known only to Janice and Narcissa, they had to show their appreciation. They took me by my arms and led me to a small room beside the kitchen where they held me in the type of soft, intimate embrace that said 'tear my clothes off and have me right here on the floor.'

'The verbal and physical affection, the psychological comfort, that two devoted witches can deliver could be overwhelming.'

I almost lost it; I came within a millimeter of ruining everything; I was very, very close to blurting out, "Let's go somewhere private and make a little Narcissa and a little Janice."

Only women of intelligence and class could have a positive response to what I had just done. I thought, once again, that I would never find another Janice or Narcissa, and this would mark the rest of my life.

Later, when they released me, I was staggering up the stairs to meet Draco and Theo.

"What's wrong, Hermann?" Draco asked.

"I think our mums kissed him for being so brilliant," said Theo.

"Is that all?" asked Draco, raising his eyebrow that someone would be affected by their mums.

"We have to get you a girlfriend, Hermann," said Draco with real concern.

"Yes," said Theo, "you've been a friend to us, but we haven't returned the favor."

"We could talk to Shan," said Draco.

"... or Luna," said Theo.

"... or Su," said Draco.

"We would even talk to you-know-who," they said.

* * *

The strategy for New Year's Eve was to have a multi-course dinner that began early and lasted until nearly midnight. To lengthen the banquet time and to provide entertainment, the five of us did a stage production.

Witcherella

A classic wizard tale performed for a group of Death Eaters and Death Symps at the Malfoy Manor

Actors

Janice Nott, Slytherin, wife of a Death Eater

Theo Nott, Slytherin, son of Janice Nott

Narcissa Malfoy, Slytherin, wife of a Death Eater

Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, son of Narcissa Malfoy

Hermann Busch, evil Durmstrang student

The Play: mime with narration

A long time ago when the world was a different place, there was a Brave Wizard (Theo) and a Good Witch (Narcissa) who loved each other deeply. As deeply as they loved each other, they loved all other witches and wizards. It could not have been otherwise. At that time there was no special place for witches and wizards. There was no place to raise a castle or create a thunderstorm without arousing the envy of their neighbors who would immediately construct a telly antenna higher than the castle or do a fireworks display noisier than the thunderstorm. Things were not working out. Something had to be done.

The Brave Wizard (Theo) and the Good Witch (Narcissa) decided to create a space that only witches and wizards could find and inhabit. This they did. There was a price, however, since the space encroached upon demon territory, and the Brave Wizard (Theo) and the Good Witch (Narcissa) had to fight the demons in one last desperate battle. But the Good Witch (Narcissa) had a brilliant idea. The Brave Wizard (Theo) and the Good Witch (Narcissa) would make a vow upon the sanctity of their marriage to fight bravely and truly, and thus they would win and survive. Before the battle, the Brave Wizard (Theo) and the Good Witch (Narcissa) had left their daughter, Witcherella, in the care of her Godparents.

At this point, the fable does a flashback to a meeting between the Brave Wizard (Theo) and the Good Witch's Sister (Janice). To punctuate the story, the Good Witch's Sister (Janice) shimmied on stage to the delight of the audience.

Definitely overacting, Mum, thought Theo.

The Good Witch (Narcissa) had been nagging the Brave Wizard (Theo) about his indifference to her family. That can be remedied, he thought. Now Witcherella had an Evil Step Brother.

With the demon world bearing down on them at the demon standard speed of thirty-seven miles an hour, it was not the appropriate time for the Brave Wizard (Theo) to engage in a lengthy discussion about how he had been improving relations with some of his in-laws. He took the vow. They won the battle, but to the brief befuddlement of the Good Witch (Narcissa), they did not survive. Luckily for him, the Brave Wizard (Theo) was already dead.

Thus ended the first half of the story.

The second half of the story begins with the Evil Step Brother (Draco) ruling justly and fairly over the lands won from the demons. Taxes were light and fair; punishment for crimes was community service; and there was peace with the neighbors. The citizens, however, hated the Evil Step Brother (Draco) because he was not Witcherella, who couldn't govern her own backyard. At the end of every parade, the Evil Step Brother's (Draco's) carriage was filled with twice his weight in rotten fruit; he was constantly being hanged in effigy; and he was the brunt of every joke about sexual inadequacy.

These experiences made the Evil Step Brother (Draco) bitter. He was that type of person.

To replace the Evil Step Brother (Draco) with the true heir, the Godparents had to make a wand for the true heir from the Willow at the End of the World and the golden thread in the horn of the True Unicorn. Of course, to get the thread the Godmother (Janice) had to remain chaste.

The Godmother (Janice) steps forward to declare her willingness to make the noble sacrifice of an unconsummated marriage. She goes into enough graphic detail and describes her missing joys with enough fervor that she works herself into an excited state and starts chasing her husband around the stage, intent on breaking her vows. The Godfather (Hermann), however, resists.

How did the Godfather (Hermann) resist the blandishments of his wife? Well, he had figured out that the 'plot requirement' was a chaste wife, and the Godmother (Janice) had a Sister (Narcissa). To punctuate the story, the Sister (Narcissa) shimmied on stage to the delight of the audience.

Definitely overacting, Mum, thought Draco.

How history does repeat itself. Nevertheless, the Godmother (Janice) remained chaste. They took a branch from the Willow at the End of the World, and they took the golden thread from the horn of the True Unicorn, who had his own opinion about the Godmother (Janice) having remained chaste. The Godparents made a wand for Witcherella (Narcissa, playing two parts).

Thus armed, Witcherella (Narcissa) snuck into the throne room where the Evil Step Brother (Draco) presided.

Thus relieved of their duty, the Godparents snuck into the room behind the throne room.

The enactment ended with audience participation. The narrator asked, "And what did Witcherella do to her Evil Step Brother when she reached the throne room?"

The crowd shouted, "She did his arse!"

At this point, for dramatic effect, Witcherella (Narcissa) hurled a thunderbolt. She can do that.

The narrator asked, "What did the Godparents do to each other behind the throne room?"

The crowd roared, "The same thing!"

There was thunderous applause as the audience congratulated themselves on a clever answer.

And now came the bestest part of the whole play.

"And what was the moral of the story?" asked the narrator.

Here was catharsis: the healing of those childhood scars. All those times in the lower grades where the teacher insisted that the story had a moral, and the student was certain the author intended no such thing. The teacher, however, was the teacher, and the student was not going to pass the course unless the student found the moral to the story.

The crowd shouted, "Evil sisters rule!"

"No," said the narrator. Bad class. Try again.

The class thought and thought. What did that teacher have in mind?

Finally, the narrator said, "Anyone?" And that was the signal.

The crowd roared, "Watch your arse!"

"Yes!" said the narrator. The class passed the test. Everyone was a good kid. The childhood scars were healed.

Such was 'Witcherella.' A timeless story with a universal moral.

* * *

The evening ended with a bonfire and group dancing that took us through midnight and into the morning hours. We distributed potions that reduced the effects of celebrating the New Year. As 'The Butler' I made certain all the guests were in their rooms and comfortable before going to my room.

It was two in the morning on New Year's day. I had watched Narcissa and Janice work all day and all night. They had appeared to float between and around the dining room where we gathered for meals and where there were always refreshments, the hallways where the guests were glad to engage them in conversation, and the study which invited people in to relax and enjoy the pleasures of the fireplace and the photographs of the Snitch-Birds.

Janice and Narcissa were fully clothed and asleep on my bed. To be honest, I must record that I found that very domestic. Six months ago I was a sentimental young wizard, and I found it touching that they had found my room comfortable. I decided to do the best for them that I could, even though it was presumptuous. Without waking them, I got them out of their clothes, into their nightgowns, and under the covers – charms for the charming. I knew the proper action for me was to sleep on the couch or get them to their own beds. I wanted them to be able to keep their intimate lives private. I realized how emotionally vulnerable they were. I looked at the peaceful faces of two admirable women, climbed under the covers between them, and coaxed them into snuggling while they slept. That's me: a man of principle.

And what good did it do me to violate my principles? When I concentrated on Narcissa, it felt great. When I concentrated on Janice, it felt great. When my awareness included both of them, I hardly felt anything. It was pleasure center overload. I consoled myself with the observation that Janice and Narcissa were cuddling as if they liked it, and I couldn't untangle myself without waking them.

* * *

I awoke to discover Narcissa propped on her elbow and looking at Janice sleeping on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I ran my fingers through Narcissa's hair. "I'm weak. I couldn't resist. I need to make a New Year's resolution."

"What are you talking about?" asked Narcissa looking perplexed.

"I shouldn't be sleeping with both of you," I said, "not together."

"That's what we wanted. You even tucked us in." Narcissa snuggled. "You take care of us."

Not here, I thought. Not now, I thought, as I responded to Narcissa pressing against me, as I responded to her nibbling my lips, as I responded to feeling her breasts, as I responded to running my hands up her nightgown, as I responded to finding Narcissa ready for sex. Perhaps if I take her discreetly, I thought. Not like this, I thought, as Narcissa got on her hands and knees, as she cradled her head in her arms, as I got on my knees behind her, as I lifted her nightgown, as I admired her gentle curves and elegant body. Not with Janice in the same bed, I told myself as I followed my erection into soft, elegant, eager Narcissa. Not with Janice watching, I realized, as I held Narcissa's hips and we listened to elegant Narcissa turn sloppy wet.

Janice reached over and held Narcissa's hand.

I can't believe this is happening. This is embarrassing. This is the best damn fun.

Janice watched as Hermann made love to Narcissa in a stately manner, as Narcissa sighed with pleasure, as he moved her hair so that he could see her pretty face while he had his pretty lady. Narcissa's eyes shone. She's his witch, thought Janice.

Janice watched as Narcissa began her slither, as she started to whimper, as her face softened. Is she an elegant lady even when she's squirming for Hermann? wondered Janice.

Janice watched as Narcissa's slither became intense, as her whimpers became high-pitched cries, as her face became flushed. Janice could see her friend's thighs getting wet. The liquid sound of Hermann stroking her friend contrasted with her friend's lady-like whimpers. It's beautiful, thought Janice, appreciating how sexy Narcissa was.

Narcissa gave Janice a helpless smile. Janice had never seen a woman surrender. Then Narcissa was rhythmically gripping Janice's hand. Janice knew her friend was rhythmically gripping Hermann.

"Do you want to?" Hermann asked Janice. Janice released her friend's hand and arranged herself on her knees beside Narcissa. Janice sighed as Hermann reached under her nightgown and moved his hand up her leg. She was ready from watching Narcissa.

Hermann's left hand was on Narcissa's hip, he was in Narcissa, and his right hand was fondling Janice.

The two women looked at each other: Narcissa in afterglow, Janice in foreplay.

Narcissa slid off Hermann and lay sprawled on the bed. Hermann moved behind Janice.

Narcissa saw Janice's mouth and eyes open wide as Hermann mounted her effortlessly. They're a couple, thought Narcissa. Narcissa reached over and held her friend's hand.

With heightened arousal comes a change in perspective. As Hermann took Janice it seemed perfectly natural that the two witches would hold hands as their wizard made love to them.

Narcissa watched as Janice wiggled and moaned, as Janice gasped and pressed against Hermann. I never imagined sweet Janice would be an animal, thought Narcissa, as Janice groaned and writhed and slopped. Then it changed. Janice, mouth wide open and gasping, was making high-pitched sounds from the back of her throat. Her body was slowing twisting. Narcissa had never seen anything that intimate and personal.

Narcissa watched Janice smile. Then she watched her friend's face contort. Janice clutched the sheets and Narcissa's hand.

Narcissa watched as Hermann let Janice recover. Then his lady grunted and slopped as he made love to her. Does she always make those lovely, sexy noises? wondered Narcissa.

Narcissa watched Hermann possess Janice. Narcissa felt a small pang. The next time we do this, I'm second, she thought. I want to be the one completely possessed.

A while later we were back in bed with the two of them cuddled around me.

"Thank you, Hermann."

"That was sweet, Hermann."

"You're welcome," I said. Somehow that sounded inadequate for the occasion.

Under the covers, two pairs of cold feet sought the warmth of mine.

* * *

By noon on New Year's Day, the guests were gone. As they arrived in the dining room, we had the potions, coffee, tea, juice, and pastries they required to make them fit for the new day.

* * *

Draco and Theo had been invited to spend the rest of the holidays with the other Slytherin boys at the Zabinis.

Theo approached me. "Hermann, Draco and I would like to ask you for a favor."

"Okay."

"We really have to go to the Zabinis. They'll be insulted if we don't. But could you spend some time with our mums?"

Theo continued, "Draco and I know you'd rather go back to London, but we think our mums like you, and they need some company. I described croquet to Mrs. Malfoy, and she wants to try it. We know we're asking for a big favor. I told my mum that I was thinking of asking you to stay with her, and she said she would like it, if you didn't mind."

"It's okay," I said. "Besides, we can go to London together."

"Thanks, mate. That's great. I'll go tell Draco you agreed."

Several hours later, Draco and Theo had left, grateful that I would provide their mums with some company.

* * *

The fight was occasioned by the fall of a teapot. It was later in the afternoon at the Malfoy Manor, and Janice had tripped over a rug. Before she righted herself, the pot had slid off the tray and broken on the floor. It was a plain pot that Narcissa prized from her childhood days. The quarrel began with who was the clumsiest and proceeded to who was the worst flirt with the guests. I repaired the teapot, cleaned up the spill, and waited for the pent up venom to come my direction.

"You didn't have to be pawed by those pillocks!" shrieked Janice. "You got to stand at the front door and smile at them!"

"We were being chased around the room, and all you did was have Draco and Theo deliver more cold champagne!" shouted Narcissa.

"You didn't even notice or care," they both accused me.

"You both handled yourselves very well," I said.

"Listen to him," said Janice. "You'd think we're his whores to hand to the guests."

"Not at all," I shouted back. "At least you two were treated as adults and equals. I was a servant. I played 'step and fetch it' to help you out."

My shouting turned the women's anger and attention towards me instead of each other, which I thought was a good thing.

"If you want to be angry at me for playing 'The Butler' well," I shouted, "then so be it."

Janice and Narcissa were calming down, and I was never really angry.

I struck a heroic pose:

"I face two witches

Eager to fight.

Greatly outnumbered,

I hold my ground."

Narcissa replied,

"He thinks he is brave.

He doesn't know

The peril he is in

When witches growl."

Janice said,

"We will show him what

He should have feared.

His bits are now ours;

We have him now."

I could only say,

"There's better ways

To have my bits.

You women are

The best I've seen."

"Is that an invitation?" they both said.

"Do you have to ask?" I said, holding them both.

In the midst of everything, while I was holding them, the strangest thought popped into my mind. Why were their husbands out eating death when they could be comfortably at home eating their wives, their beautiful wives, the two most desirable women on the face of the earth?

* * *

I was walking hand in hand with Janice to her room when she asked me what I was thinking. I was never able to hide anything from Janice, and I said, "I was thinking about you and all those rich, powerful men who were here."

She looked at me. "You thought I might be attracted to them?"

I nodded yes.

She smiled. "You're jealous," she said. She thought about the men who had been at the Malfoy Manor. They had tried to paw her, but she knew that was because she was handy. They had mistresses, but they were in their twenties or younger. Their mistresses were pliable girls. They didn't have independent lives and minds of their own. They weren't respected professionals in a difficult field. They didn't have stains on their hands or several small scars on their faces from potions.

It's funny how the mind works. Everything Janice was thinking made her feel closer to Hermann. It made her feel that he had chosen her, an individual, and not some amorphous playmate. Janice could feel her nipples against her bra. We're companions, she thought, and among other things, we want to make love to each other.

I shouldn't be this serious about him, she thought. I'm thinking I don't know enough about him. How does he act when he's angry? I haven't seen him angry. Is he violent? Is he sullen? Will he talk to me?

Lost in thought, she missed what Hermann had said. "I'm sorry," she said.

"I'm glad you're a Potions mistress," Hermann repeated. "Well, I mean, some kind of professional. It doesn't have to be Potions."

"That's nice of you to say," said Janice. You're going to strip away all my defenses, you fiend, she thought.

They reached her door and stepped inside her room.

Janice held her lover in a light embrace. She let him feel her breath on his neck, her breasts on his chest, and her thighs on his legs. She was caressing him with light kisses. Hermann had his arms around her waist and shoulder. She was her own individual, and he was giving her the time she needed to become intimate. She continued with her light embrace and kisses.

Janice enjoyed her growing sense of intimacy. His hands feel good on me, she thought. It's comforting to be held. I want more. She unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra. She guided Hermann's head to her breasts. Yes, she thought. He covered her left breast with kisses that were nearly teases. He whispered in her ear that she was lovely and moved to her other breast. She was making soft sounds, and her knees were feeling weak. He moved her to the bed. She unzipped her skirt and slid it off. She was on her stomach with her legs open in invitation. He ran his hand up her thighs and over her smooth, silk-covered hips, feeling the softness and warmth within. He kissed her and told her she had the loveliest legs. He was between the thighs of his Potions mistress.

"Not many people realize the ingredients for a potion should be carefully selected and well tended. An excellent potion requires the Potions master choose the ingredients himself, to pick the best, the ones that he prefers. Then they must be cared for. They can't be neglected. The best ingredients respond to this. It's a long-term, loving relationship. The Potions master handles the ingredients himself. When he removes their wrappers, he does it with great care. He admires their beauty, their inner qualities. When they are out of their wrappers and spread out before him, he must treat them tenderly. But of course he does. Their attraction is overwhelming. He has chosen them himself, and he knows there are none finer. What he desires most is at his fingertips, and their need for his attention is tangible. He carefully prepares them. He takes the time they need. His intercourse with them is demanding and assured."

"Mature ingredients and familiar recipes are not boring to a skilled Potions master. On the contrary, they are dear to his heart and a comfort to his soul. He returns to them again and again. They sustain him. But they are not dull. They respond to him. They generate their own heat. They stir themselves. He enjoys their simmering. He brings them to the boil. He revels in their hot, steaming beauty. He owns them, they are his, and he prizes them. He will never leave them."

Janice boiled over.

When rationality returned, she realized she had been yelling and gripping the sheets. My gods, my son heard me all the way to the Zabinis ... but I don't think I squealed.

Hermann moved her damp hair away from her face and kissed her soft, sweaty skin. He told her she was a lovely lady. He held her and inhaled her, and then he told her she should roll over on her back. He wanted her legs up and her feet in the air.

She knew he was going to get the whole copulation package, that she was going to do the impregnation routine for him. She knew her moans and whimpers would encourage him and signal that he had captured her. They would draw him further into her. She knew her writhing would excite him both mentally and physically. It would not be possible for him to pull out of his squirming, yielding lady. She knew her final involuntary thrashing accompanied by her primitive gasps and grunts would cause his climax, his climax into her, into her benignly slimed and eagerly receptive self. She knew her muscle contractions would simultaneously give him pleasure and squeeze everything out of him.

Janice's legs were pressing Hermann into her, and her arms had him in an iron grip. The female was not going to release the male until the service was complete.

That is what happened. Her moans and whimpers had him bound to her. Her writhing had him driving into her. Her final thrashing, grunting, gripping, sobbing convulsions had him gushing into her ... into the welcoming, sopping wet, throbbing pit of his lady, into his proud and beautiful Janice.

Once again, she slowly regained rationality ... to find Hermann cuddling her, accepting her, bonding with her.

Oh, please, please, tell me I didn't dig my fingernails into him, she thought. What would Narcissa think? Right now, Narcissa would think that he was covered with my sweat, saliva, and juices, that he reeks of Janice Nott in heat.

"Hermann, let's take a bath together." I can check him for fingernail marks. Why aren't I more jealous? I must have been isolated too long. I like the company.

* * *

Freshly scrubbed and wearing a bathrobe and slippers, I went looking for Narcissa.

She was wearing a bathrobe and waiting in her bedroom. "Well, did Janice leave anything for me?"

I sat down beside Narcissa and stroked her hair. I had just given another woman sex, and I was giving Narcissa time to adjust.

"You took a long enough time," said Narcissa accusingly.

"I treated Janice as if she was the one and only witch in the world," I said, "as if she was the only witch for me."

I held Narcissa as she mused over what I had said.

"You would, wouldn't you?" said Narcissa. "And what about me?" she asked.

"You're the one and only witch in the world, Narcissa, the only one for me."

"That still doesn't make sense, you know?" said Narcissa, but she was relaxing and cuddling.

I noticed with relief that Narcissa wasn't angry. She was curious.

"I don't understand why you didn't bonk us both right away. We were ready. You did it last night. You took us like we were your witches, and we held hands while you had us. We both liked it."

"I'm working out how to do this," I said, giving Narcissa an affectionate hug.

Narcissa was lightly nuzzling me. I said, "I thought I should spend some individual time with you."

Narcissa ran her fingers through my hair and gave me an appraising look. "I think there's more to it than that. You want us to keep our dignity. You're letting our intimate lives be private."

"I'll never be able to keep a secret from you and Janice, will I?"

"No," said Narcissa, "we'll both know right away if you're a bad boy."

Narcissa was being demurely affectionate, as if she appreciated her intimate life being private, as if Hermann were the lover she had waited for. Her demure affection had given Hermann a tremendous erection.

"Hold my cock, Narcissa."

"Yes, dear." She reached down and wrapped her elegant fingers around the cock she wanted.

"Kiss my cock, darling. It's for you."

"Yes, sweetheart," she said. He felt Narcissa's warm mouth sliding over his cock.

She likes this, Hermann thought. He lightly stroked her hair while his darling took him deeply and her lips and tongue tended the erection he had for her.

Hermann arranged the pillows for Narcissa to lie beside him. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his eyes. He whispered that she was his darling. He had come to realize how passionate Narcissa was, to accommodate her gentle way of having sex, and to appreciate her intense coupling.

Janice and Narcissa were warm elegance and cool elegance. Together they offered him so much and they complemented each other so well, that he was not aware of his complete absorption by them. He had taken the warm Janice, and now he would take the cool Narcissa. He would quench his remaining fire in her soft intensity.

Narcissa felt cuddled and wanted in Hermann's embrace. She liked it that he held her gently – close enough that he could feel her warm breath, close enough that he could get her warm kisses, close enough that he could hear her warm sighs as his caresses warmed the soft, inner girl. The inner girl sighed as he ran his fingers across her temples and through her hair. The girl warmed as he returned her kisses and whispered that she was lovely. The warm girl pressed against him as he told her that she was his darling.

He parted her legs, placed his cock at her entrance, slid onto her, and then lay there inside her. As the shock of joining subsided, he still held her close enough to hear her sighs as she began her slither. She sighed for him as he let her sexuality blossom. Narcissa felt wanted as he absorbed her soft sighs and let her sexuality spread through her until it became an all-consuming hunger. She whimpered at the piercing pleasure, the deep and sharp pleasure that only her lover could give her. She writhed in the joy of mating with her lover. She whimpered and writhed and clutched him as she felt the terrible agony of want.

Hermann held her and looked into Narcissa's eyes as her face contorted with her agony and her whimpers became desperate cries. He enjoyed the incredible beauty of Narcissa caught in the grip of sex. Caught by his affection, she locked eyes with him and let him see her trust and her need. She wanted him to see that part of her. He looked into her eyes as she could no longer control herself, as she writhed in copulation, as he took her. She gasped, arched her back, and gripped him. He felt her soft, liquid ripples. She slowly went limp. Narcissa slowly went limp in the arms of her trusted lover.

This is private, he thought. This is intimate. No one else should see her like this. I'm selfish. I don't want anyone else seeing her like this. His affection for her traveled the length of his spine and blanked out conscious thought. Narcissa felt content as Hermann lost himself in her soft intensity.

Narcissa, covered by a sheet, was sitting up in bed with Hermann's head in her lap. He held one of her hands, while she ran her fingers through his hair. She was sliding down from her emotional and sexual high into the depths of rational companionship – a relationship that nurtured her.

Part of the relationship was Janice, who was her friend. They needed entertainment after their dreary and lonesome autumn, after their hectic holiday. Hermann could take them dancing. Later, while dancing in London, they discovered they became aroused when watching Hermann dance with the other. Hermann dancing with another girl didn't affect them. Their dancing with another bloke or watching the other dance with another bloke didn't affect them. Hermann dancing with Narcissa or Janice struck the other deeply. They talked about it, giggled over being kinky, and concluded something was happening.

Returning to the present, Narcissa decided they should shower. It wasn't fair to Janice to let Hermann wander around with the satisfying, delectable, and entirely agreeable aroma of a reptile in rut. Janice had been considerate and had scrubbed Hermann instead of sending him to her with the enticing aroma of a panther in heat. On the other hand, the combination might be heady. She thought of Hermann taking her while he reeked of cat. She thought of Hermann taking Janice while he reeked of snake. It was deliciously decadent. She tingled.

But Hermann was trying to keep everything proper, Narcissa thought, and everything did seem to be working out okay. Janice and I are married, Herman is the same age as our sons, and we're a threesome, but other than that, we have a normal, healthy relationship.

Narcissa and Hermann showered.

Some time later, after Narcissa and I had composed ourselves, Janice joined us. Are those two telepathic? Both were refreshed and ready to organize the investment tips they had gathered. We decided to work in the dining room with its large table for our notes.

* * *

As we gathered our information, I pursued my latest train of thought. Why were Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott Death Eaters? They were rich and powerful. The rich and powerful don't go out and die, they send other people out to die for them. The rich and powerful don't buy into charismatic leaders, they buy charismatic leaders.

It struck me that Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott were heroic. It was the British 'fox hunting generals' system. It was 'the battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eaton' attitude. That thought made little Hermann the lowest of the low. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott had placed their lives and their freedom on the line for what they believed in. While they were prisoners of war, Hermann was seducing their wives. But their wives didn't regard them as heroes. Both women were obviously glad their husbands were gone.

The natural profile of a Death Eater was a half-blood or a mundane-born wizard. These were the people who had suffered torment from a society that didn't accept those who were different. Purebloods, raised in a wizard environment, were exempt from the early childhood traumatizing and the resulting life-long hate. Now that I thought about it, there was no reason to doubt this profile. The fact that the people suspected of being Death Eaters were pure-blood aristocrats only meant that those were the people who dared speak their minds. They had led, and still led, a protected existence away from the wrath of the mob. The hard-core, hate-filled Death Eater knew enough to be discreet.

There was no solution without understanding what was happening, only continued conflict – conflict in which I was participating without knowledge or understanding. This can only end badly, I thought.

I sometimes wondered if I should get involved. The deciding factor in my involvement was conversations with Hermione Granger, although it wasn't her efforts on behalf of house-elves that influenced me. Speaking of which, it struck me as both surprising and appropriate that Hermione Granger's first effort in the real world came directly from the heart without involving her intellect.

"Last year, Harry and I organized a Defense-Against-the-Dark-Arts club," she'd informed me one day after a study session.

I had learned to nod appreciatively and not offer any analytical comments when Hermione Granger talked about her adventures with her male friends. It was an acknowledgement that I would never have a meaningful relationship with one-way Hermione.

"There was this absolutely horrible instructor sent to Hogwarts by the Ministry," she continued.

"In Defense Against the Dark Arts?" I asked.

"Yes, she tried to keep us from learning any practical skills," said Hermione Granger.

Makes sense, I thought, sarcastically. Why would the Ministry want people defending themselves against Death Eaters? More realistically, I asked, "Why do that?"

"The Ministry was afraid of the students," she said.

My ears perked up. This was outrageous, even for the Brits.

"The Ministry thought the Hogwarts Headmaster and some students could dispose the Minister and set up their own government," said Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger continued talking, and I continued nodding, but I didn't hear what she was saying. I was thinking that any government that could be toppled by a schoolmaster and a few students did not have the popular support of the governed. The English Ministry couldn't act effectively against the Death Eaters without the support of the people.

Remembering all the crazy things Hermione Granger had told me about some magical stone, I made additional inquiries, but everyone agreed with what Hermione Granger told me about the Brit Ministry of Magic.

Wizard England is a banana republic, I concluded. It cannot counter an international terrorist threat within its own borders. It is a danger to its neighbors. Later, whenever I had any doubts about my actions, I reminded myself of what Hermione Granger had told me about her government.

"Did the Ministry penalize students for disagreeing with the official version of events?" I asked Hermione Granger.

"Yes, they did," she replied emphatically.

"Was there torture?"

There was a pause before Hermione Granger, in a weak voice, said, "Yes."

"Death threats?"

Remembering the Dementors sent after Harry, she nodded yes.

Either she or one of her friends had been a victim, I thought. She continued with the story despite the painful memories. The brave Gryffindor was admirable in her own way. Once again, my adolescent self took over, and once again, I was wondering if a powerful witch had a soft and fluffy place for some lucky wizard. I returned to listening to her telling me about a group of adult wizards and how brave they were. They needed to be brave since, as far as I could tell, their major function was to be picked off one-by-one by the Death Eaters. I interrupted because I had one more question to ask.

"Did the Ministry organize a Goon Squad at school?"

"Yes," she said, immensely pleased by my insight and sympathy.

I had learned what I needed to know about the Brit Ministry of Magic. I let her tell me the rest of the story without interruption.

"And Harry was great," Hermione Granger concluded. She was giving me a warm, satisfied smile.

She was glad that I had listened to something important that she wanted to tell me.

It struck me that she had told me this story as part of her campaign to convince me that Harry Potter and her other friends were wonderful people. I was convinced, and I thought it an admirable quality of Hermione Granger that she was hoping I could become friends with her and her friends. But I thought the gap was too wide, the suspicions were too numerous, and the past incidents were too painful. My poor social skills were not up to the task. And my heart wasn't in it. I did not have their talent for adventure. If I became involved in one of their terrifying escapades, I would not survive to thank the gods for the experience. I still thought it warmhearted of Hermione Granger to try.

I had made my way back to the Ravenclaw Tower for tea and Arithmancy, thinking that Hermione Granger's latest story sounded realistic, unlike the first story she had told me about the magical stone. There should have been several armies surrounding Hogwarts trying to capture such a stone. She would have me believe that the faculty and her friends were so pure of heart and stoical that eternal life did not tempt them. She didn't appear to be lying, which implied someone had altered her memory – a subtle method of controlling her emotions and actions. I wasn't interacting with the real Hermione Granger. Why weren't the Headmaster and the Head of her House trying to do something for her? Whatever was happening was deep and dangerous, and I didn't want any part of it.

After Hermann left, Hermione Granger sat at the table feeling puzzled. She hadn't talked to anyone else about the terrible things that had happened last year, and she hadn't realized how much it had been eating at her. Hermann had listened, had understood her side of the story, and thereby had lifted a burden from her. Hermione Granger felt such incredible relief that she didn't care that she might be talking to the enemy. When she told Hermann there had been torture, she thought for a moment that he was going to put his arms around her. But he didn't put his arms around her. He didn't ask her to study Arithmancy with him. He didn't invite her for tea in Ravenclaw Tower. He had listened carefully, made her feel great, said goodbye until the next time, and then walked away. I have half a relationship, she thought. It's like he's half a friend.

* * *

Returning to the task at hand at the Malfoy Manor, I brought up the timetable chart that we had hidden in a room by the kitchen. We produced a rough draft of the investment prospects. I was surprised by how much my knowledge of who was meeting who helped. We told the elves to take it easy, to bring us some wine and sandwiches of leftovers as we produced a more organized document.

At last, we were finished, and we were on the couch where I had my arms around Janice and Narcissa. They told me about their last several days. Janice had found the goblins down in the kitchen. Narcissa had switched the 'befores' and 'afters' for one meal. There were lots of things they had to tell me. This was my first chance to stop and listen to them, and all their experiences came tumbling out. Their pent up stress and strain vanished as their wizard listened with great interest to the ordinary events of their lives.

* * *

The next morning, after the three of us had arrived at the Nott Estate and while Janice and Narcissa were setting up the croquet hoops, I wrote an apologetic letter to my mother explaining that she was once more invited to participate in English affairs. The investment tips culled from the social event at the Malfoy Manor offered numerous opportunities, both in England and on the continent. Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Nott wanted to include the Busch family. Besides, they appreciated my mother's business sense and wanted to include her in the discussions. My mother's reply to us was that she would be glad to see Mrs. Malfoy again, wanted to meet Mrs. Nott and see the Nott estate, and that the Busch family was willing to invest in some British and continental assets. My mother would arrive at the Nott Estate next week, and she hadn't played croquet in ages.

* * *

"Draco. Theo. Ladies and gentlemen on the train back to school. Let me pass around some 8x10 glossy photographs of my Winter Holiday at the Notts, kindly taking care of two ladies."

__________________________________________________________________

Das ist ja geil. = (idiomatically) That's cool. = (literally) That's horny.