Prime Beginnings and Calculated Ends

Chapter 4: Prime Beginnings and Calculated Ends

It was another special Saturday for students to visit the village, and she walked the crowded but lonely streets. Ahead she saw a shock of blond hair talking to a mature figure at an outdoor table. She stood and stared as the scene unfolded. The student was complaining; the mature figure nodded in understanding. The student was gesturing wildly as he related some school farce; the mature figure nodded in understanding. The student took a sip of hot coffee from his father's cup; the mature figure shook his head in amused disapproval. The student joined his friends; his father waved a fond farewell. Desperate for something, even a pale copy of what she had witnessed, she walked over and sat at the table.

"Good morning, Miss Granger."

"Good morning to you, Mr. Malfoy."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I just thought I'd say 'Hello.' Are you busy? I can buy you a coffee."

Mr. Malfoy didn't need another coffee yet, but he could assure Miss Granger that she was welcome to sit with him and enjoy a cup herself. "How are your studies?" After hearing her woeful reply, he tried to be reassuring. "You're in a slump. Didn't you recently perform brilliantly for the OWLs? A temporary slump is normal. Don't worry about it." He responded to her polite inquiries. "Mrs. Malfoy is doing well. I haven't seen Mrs. Granger, your mum, since the hospital ruckus." She reminded him of his loan. "Yes, I remember you have the old Numerology book. You can keep it longer." She remembered they had been interrupted the last time. "Yes, I can meet you the next special weekend, and we can look at it again." She looked cold. "You're shivering. Do you want to go inside?" She replied that everyplace here was crowded and noisy, but his home was nice, and she hadn't seen much of it, and she hoped she wasn't being too forward. "It's true; you didn't see much of Malfoy Manor when you were there. It's not too forward to suggest that you'd like to see more of it. We'll have to do it discreetly."

Two minutes later, Miss Granger was in a chair in front of a roaring fireplace, Mr. Malfoy had served Miss Granger tea, and Mr. Malfoy was stretched out on the rug.

"Did you ever think of teaching Arithmancy?" she asked.

"It would be one of the easier subjects to teach," he replied. "There's not much to memorize since it proceeds from a few general principles. Not many students take it. The classes are small and well-behaved."

She sat up straighter in the chair. "You have thought about it."

"When I was young and idealistic and thought I had infinite energy. Then I discovered how much time and energy it took to run the family estate and manage the investments. Even for an Arithmancy professor, teaching is a full time job."

He stared into the fire. "I think teaching Potions would kill me."

"Severus ... I mean Professor Snape was different during the summer," she said.

"I liked him then," she said. She blushed. "But I shouldn't say that about an older man."

'Lucky Severus,' thought Lucius.

"I wish he had talked to me and taken me places. I was stuck with two boys in a grim old place. All they could think about was Quidditch."

She put her hands in front of her mouth. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that."

He loomed over her. "You silly girl, I gave you a comfortable chair, plied you with gourmet tea, and you spilled the Order's secrets. Ha. Ha. Ha."

She shrank into the chair, turning pale and looking aghast.

Lucius felt remorse.

"Hermione," he said softly. "I was kidding."

"Miss Granger, think," he said. "My family has known the Black family for ages. I married one of the Black sisters. Is there anything significant about the Black family that I wouldn't know?"

Hermione Granger showed signs of recovery.

Lucius settled back on the rug. 'There's a thought,' he thought. 'I can screw Narcissa for information. The next time she's waving her toes at the ceiling, I'll pay attention to the yelling end. Hmm, seems to be a morning for bad humor. A better idea would be to listen the next time Cissy and Bella have a gossip fest. No, not even the Dark Lord would require that sacrifice.'

He noticed that Miss Granger was on her knees on the floor and looming over him.

"You scared the shit out of me, you bastard." She looked at him. "But it was still a good joke." She smiled, "Mature men are the best."

He was aware of Hermione stretching out beside him, her leg on top of his, her breasts pressing into him, her fingers twirling his hair, and her head resting on his shoulder. She was humming an aimless tune as she fell asleep.

'I've got the brains of the opposition in my arms. I want the brains of the opposition on the end of my prick. No, I don't .... Get a grip .... Yes, I do.'

His stomach growled to remind him that he was missing lunch. He ran his fingers through the hair of the schoolgirl.

It was early afternoon when Hermione popped up. "I feel ever so much better. What's for tea?"

'Berries rare as your breasts, scones sweet as your ass, clotted cream from your panties, and cheese ripe as your pussy,' he thought. "The usual," he said.

He brought out tea and sandwiches thinking that it would have been terrible if the Death Eaters had captured Natalie or Hermione. 'Okay,' he thought, 'I'm a sexist pig. I don't like torturing women.'

He watched her delicately consume a large number of sandwiches with her tea while he fought down the urge to talk about her lack of boyfriends in order to coax her into his lap. After dabbing a few crumbs off her lips, she sashayed around the table, placed her hand seductively on his shoulder, batted her eyelashes, and gave him a silky voiced, "You fill me so well; you make me feel complete."

He jumped. She chuckled. "Turnabout is fair play, Mr. Malfoy."

'I've sunk to a new low,' he thought. 'She's a schoolgirl. She's Natalie's daughter. She's a little minx! She's more than my mortal frame can bear.'

After tea, he brought his old Numerology text, paper, and pencils to the reading room. Hermione admired the argument that there were an infinite number of primes. A girl of infinite possibilities, thought Lucius. They struggled through the Euclidian algorithm, establishing the remainder was smaller than the divisor. Ah, the remains of the day, thought Lucius. They were ready for the unique factorization theorem when it was time for her to return to school. A unique day, he thought. He whisked her back to the village. She had had the best time she told him. The next visit, she would bring the Hadley Numerology book, and they could have even more fun.

Lucius, wrung out after a day of fighting down urges for a schoolgirl, had his own thoughts. 'Heaven save me. Wait, my wife can save me. She's good at that.'

Dearest Natalie,

I realize we did not meet under the best of circumstances, but I did enjoy your visit. My husband and I were both entranced by your daughter.

You may or may not know that students are allowed occasional visits to a nearby village. Last Saturday, my husband was there to talk to our son, and he met Hermione. My husband will be busy on the next such occasion, but he suggested that I take you to visit Hermione. Would you be interested?

Most sincerely, Narcissa

One week later was another type of special Saturday, and Lucius had, once again, failed to save Narcissa from herself.

"Ewww!"

"You know you don't like it. I don't know why you insist on sampling the sake every month."

"It's to remind me that life isn't all brandy and chocolates. I'm balancing yin and yang."

It pained him to see Narcissa try it and dislike it. His friend had undergone indignities to obtain their recent supplies. Severus had strolled into a store in a poorer part of London and spotted half a shelf full of sake bottles with the word 'Reduced' on a banner in front of them. Severus had secured the lot.

"What do you do with this stuff?" the surly clerk had asked.

Severus, attempting to be polite in mundane society, had replied, "You warm it to blood temperature and drink it."

The clerk was incredulous. "Are you shittin' me?"

Severus nearly had his wand out for a lesson in manners when it occurred to him that the buffoon in front of him would never know the delights of a sake party.

Pity stayed his hand.

Lucius's attention returned to the present where Narcissa continued her commentary.

"Besides, it's cloudy. There isn't a single star in the sky, and it's going to rain. I'm starting to think these Moon-Viewing Parties are just an excuse for you and Severus to drink sake, grill squid, and eat wasabi peanuts."

"My family warned me about you...that you were hard to fool."

'It's a civilized ceremony,' thought Narcissa, some time later. Lucius and Severus had joined her for a cup of tea and then proceeded to the gazebo, followed by Sasha, the family hound. She could understand the hound...loyalty plus the possibility of tidbits. She recalled the period when Lucius and Sasha went hunting. Her aristocratic nature appreciated the wild taste of the game, and the knowledge that her husband and his hound had brought the animal down added to the flavor.

The hound had arrived several years ago when Lucius had a chance to indulge one of his fantasies. Lucius Malfoy would have simply died if anyone found out, but he had tried to ape the customs of the eighteenth century landed nobility. Chief among those customs was blood sports. Riding a horse looked suicidal but those portraits of the nobleman and his faithful hound plucked at his heartstrings. He thought acquiring a purebred would attract attention, but one of his orchard managers assured him that crossbreeds had all the qualities of the purebreds plus additional stability and stamina.

He had watched and then participated as the orchard manager played the strange mundane game of 'Frisbee' with his dogs. One of the females of a litter seemed quite taken with Lucius. He named her 'Sasha' and brought her home.

Narcissa shrieked. "There's going to be dog hair all over everything."

Lucius cuddled Sasha and told her not to pay any attention to the hysterical lady. Sasha looked at Narcissa with her mournful eyes until Narcissa relented and agreed that Sasha could stay.

Now, the first thing that Narcissa did in the morning was pet Sasha and let her outside. Narcissa spent the evenings that Lucius was gone curled up on the couch with Sasha beside her.

When she was old enough, Lucius introduced Sasha to Frisbee. He convinced Narcissa to try it. With Narcissa, the Frisbee went every which way, but Sasha didn't mind. She would retrieve it and run back to Narcissa with her eyes bright and her tail wagging. Narcissa had to learn not to have so much fun that her arm hurt the next day.

Lucius did worry that Frisbee was too tame and he was not training Sasha to be a mighty huntress. He decided to be philosophical about it. 'I can't have everything,' he thought, 'and Narcissa is having a great time.'

For hunting, he decided that shotguns were too crude and noisy. He would use his wand. And he decided he would be forgiving of Sasha. It was not her fault that he and has wife enjoyed Frisbee instead of training Sasha properly. When he went hunting, the first thing he discovered was that during their first ten yards of flight, big game birds were lower and slower than a Frisbee. Cuddly Sasha was a running, leaping, brown blur...death on four paws. It was much the same with young rabbits.

He didn't dare let Narcissa see Sasha's trophies: the limp bodies of cute and beautiful animals. He snuck them into the kitchen and gave them to the house-elves when Narcissa wasn't looking. They had several dinners of game, and then Lucius professed a lack of interest in hunting. Narcissa thought it a shame because Sasha seemed to enjoy it, but they all went back to mundane Frisbee.

Out in the gazebo, Sasha watched over the proceedings while Lucius and Severus toasted the moon even though it was not visible. They sipped several cups and related to the night.

When they had absorbed a sufficient amount of nature's wildness, Lucius broke the silence. "How's the spying, old bean?"

"Smashing. I told Dumbledore that Voldemort was back and was acquiring followers. I told Voldemort that Dumbledore knew he was back, and that Dumbledore was organizing a resistance group."

Lucius chuckled. "You are a clever man. You are a subtle man. Nay, a humorous man."

There was another interlude of toasting the moon, before Lucius spoke again. "I assume you're the one who told the Order about the old, unused safe-house."

"I told the Aurors," said Severus. "They needed a diversion before they caused real trouble. They spent a week planning the raid."

Lucius agreed. "A raid on an empty house does no harm and energizes both sides. Think of the stories the caretaker can tell: The demons descended upon him."

The two men and the dog watched the lightning and rain.

The drinking party had arrived at the point where they exchanged the small sake cups for large tea cups. The topic of conversation followed a similar increase in capacity. They were considering the differences between nature's law, wizard's law, and mundane law.

Under normal circumstances, Lucius would never let anyone know he thought about the mundanes, but the sake and the wildness of nature blew through him. Lucius had a complaint about the mundanes. "They get too involved with the law. They worry over it constantly. There's speechifying and debating and filibustering. They have a class of people who do that for a living."

"They do pontificate," agreed Severus, "but they have a talent for it. It's a sin not to use a talent."

Lucius allowed his friend had a point. He raised his cup in salutation. "To each his own."

"Been busy?" asked Lucius.

"There's a shortage of potions at the school infirmary."

"There's a drought of draughts?" asked Lucius.

The three of them took in the clouds, the wind, and the rain. It refreshed their souls.

Lucius brought up a delicate topic. "It's sad that you're alone. Isn't there anyone you care for, that you can trust?"

"There aren't many," said Severus, "and they're out of reach."

'That's something new,' thought Lucius. "Has some high-born lady caught your eye, some pureblood that only looks at other purebloods?" asked Lucius.

Severus watched the rain.

"She may be more available than you think, Severus. Perhaps at some soirée, we can introduce her to the aristocracy of the mind."

Severus shook his head no.

"You're leaving me guessing. Even if she's a married woman, we can introduce you." Lucius looked at Severus, but there was no reaction. "Unless," said Lucius, "she's the wife of a friend. Is that the pickle you're in, a pureblood aristocrat, a wife of a friend?" Lucius thought his friend was being difficult. "She may still be available. You're dashing, different. Her husband may not care for her anymore ... be glad to get her off his hands. She's neglected and lonely. You could be doing everyone a favor. Gallant Severus to the rescue."

Severus thought about the aristocratic Draupadi, her brave and crippled husband, and stared into the storm.

'There's a lot of hesitating and secrecy, old buddy,' thought Luciius. 'By the gods, is it Narcissa? Does he want to fuck Narcissa? Who doesn't? Perhaps he's already fucking her. Maybe he really, really wants to fuck Narcissa. Has my friend fallen in love with my wife? I'm going to have to play this one by ear.'

Lucius soared over the moon: 'Narcissa did have a marvelous pussy; its use was known to produce insights.'

Lucius retuned in time to hear Severus say, "Ah, but who would care for the greasy bat from the dungeon?"

"That's your school persona. It makes you look sly ... a lurker ... a conspirator. You run a double bluff. You spent the summer as an immaculate, well-groomed gentleman. The social season has just started. We can take you to all kinds of affairs. Why worry about your school persona? Unless .... Great thundering cats, Severus, you don't fancy someone at the school do you? Did that musty old place finally get a nubile instructor? I hadn't heard."

Severus was quiet. 'I can't tell anyone about Draupadi,' he thought.

"No. Tell me it's not true, Severus ... not a student."

For some reason, Severus saw a vision of smiling, vital Hermione. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "I can't help it."

Lucius was silent for a while, recalling Natalie. "Yes, that's true. We can't help it."

"We're minding our own business," said Severus. "Not asking for anything. All of a sudden, we become aware of some girl, hovering around."

Lucius stared into the rain.

Severus continued. "I'm mixing a potion; I think about showing it to her. I'm walking along the lake; I imagine her beside me."

"She only knows you as an instructor?" asked Lucius.

'What's happening,' thought Severus. 'Why is my mind filling with images of Hermione? What has Lucius conjured up?'

"I saw her last summer. She told me I looked handsome. Then she blurted out that I smelled good. That embarrassed her."

Severus gave his friend an accusing look. "I can see your brain cells turning over from here. You're asking what students I could possibly meet during the holidays. You're figuring out who she is."

Lucius was staring at the rain. He was seeing a bushy-haired figure, but it was a figure more mature than the one Severus was seeing.

Sasha, with the instincts of a faithful companion, saved the evening by mooching grilled squid from Lucius and then from Severus. They scratched her ears, and the world returned to normal.

"Did you learn anything from Crabbe and Goyle?" asked Severus. "I assume you treated them to the usual evening at the pub."

"They're supposed to be suspicious of me, but they can't turn down a round of drinks," said Lucius. "We go to a remote tavern where I supply the place with the good stuff for Crabbe and Goyle. It goes down smooth, really smooth."

"And?" said Severus.

"It's crazy, completely crazy," said Lucius. "They were the ones who robbed the Grangers. They were told to look for secret Arithmancy stuff."

"So they swiped a schoolgirl's Arithmancy books," said Severus. "For Crabbe and Goyle, that's better than average."

"It gets crazier. At the beginning of last summer, I found a box from the Hadley estate in the basement of the bookstore."

"The famous Arithmancy professor?" said Severus.

"Yes, and the same day I met Mrs. Granger shopping for her daughter."

"That's pretty thin," said Severus.

"Well, don't tell anyone, but I met Mrs. Granger again for a session of kite flying. Goyle tracked us, and I fed him a story about spying on the Grangers."

Severus sighed. "You planted ideas in his head, old chum. No good can come of that."

"According to Goyle," continued Lucius, "the Death Eaters scoured the bookstore and found another box from the Hadley estate. They're certain it's valuable, but they can't make heads or tails of it, and they've hidden it. They didn't tell Crabbe or Goyle the hiding place."

"Paranoia runs deep," they agreed.

Severus tried to sum it up. "You found some old Arithmancy stuff at the same time you began associating with the Grangers. From their point of view, the only reason to prize those dusty old manuscripts is because they contain spells of earth-shaking power. Arithmancy is gobbledygook to that crew, but Hermione Granger is a genius who can figure it out and rule the world."

'Paranoia runs deep, indeed,' they thought.

The sake party entered its last stage, and Sasha came into her own. The wild night air and the confessional conversation had stripped the two men of their facades, and they were two mellow souls, but the noble and steadfast Sasha provided the glue that held everything together. Mellow they might be, but they had prepared for their descent into depravity. Under the watchful eyes of the hound, Lucius and Severus brought out the hard-boiled eggs. Her ears pricked up as they were cracked and peeled. Of course she participated.

Dogs like the moon, too.

It is only a small shift from thinking about cracking and peeling a hard-boiled egg to thinking about Narcissa. After the two men left the house for the gazebo, she read a while and then retired. As she lay there she thought about the two men getting pickled...pickled enough that they would discuss which one could have her. She imagined them settling it like gallant gentlemen: They would flip a coin. They would flip a coin to decide who would have a crack at peeling her. 'Or who would peel me and have a crack,' she thought. Both were masters of disguise and concealment. She wouldn't know who it was.

Narcissa was sleeping peacefully when someone entered her bedroom and took the covers from the bed. She was waking up when someone blindfolded her and tied her hands behind her back. 'It's happened,' she thought. 'Someone has won the estate in a game of conquest. I'm the lady of the estate and part of the prize.'

Whoever it was grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She was face down with her legs spread. 'Do you like what you see?' she thought. Her nightgown had slid up past her panties. 'Do you want what's in them?'

Someone ran his hands up the back of her legs with his thumbs on her inner thighs. He did it again and again. He did it calmly and lightly. It wasn't the caresses that affected her. It wasn't the caresses that were making her sigh. It was the calm assurance behind them. Someone knew she was an aristocratic lady, and she belonged to the conqueror. Someone knew he could have everything if he treated her with kindness and consideration. If he treated her well, Cissy would offer her charms. If he continued to treat her well, Cissy would offer her allegiance. Her heart was optional, but it was possible.

Someone was treating her well. He caressed her lightly until she accepted the inevitable. She was face down with her feet off the bed. She wiggled towards him until her calves were off the bed with him between them. She wiggled towards him again until he was between her thighs. She was obviously offering herself. She wiggled again until she was pressing her warm, soft self against him. 'I'm valuable,' she thought. 'You want to keep me.' She was blindfolded and her hands were tied behind her back, but she was not gagged. He wanted to hear the noises Cissy Black made.

A rough voice told her to spread her legs wider. She knew he only wanted to see her offer herself. She opened her legs wider.

He did hear the noises Cissy Black made when someone parted her folds and worked his way into her depths. He did feel the way Cissy Black yielded when someone entered her. 'I can't take this too seriously,' he thought. 'She's wiggling to save herself. I can enjoy the way she wiggles, though. Wiggle for me, sweetheart,' he thought. 'Let me see if I can last through the pretend phase of her wiggles. She's a conquered aristocrat. She'll yield.'

'Yes,' he thought as he felt her become slick with sweat and her moves become slower and more sinuous. Her noises became higher in pitch. He felt her muscles as she groaned and writhed on his invasion. They were locked together in a desperate struggle. There were the last cries and spasms of a defeated province. Her struggling ceased. She lay under him...invaded and taken...limp with her surrender. He tasted sweetness.

He came into Narcissa like the tide: sweeping over the beach, sloshing like waves, riding higher and higher, pulsing in the ancient rhythm, covering the landscape with foam.

Narcissa thought it was over. She had surrendered and she had been taken. It was time for her conqueror to hold her and comfort her and let her bond with him. She felt him slide out of her. Too quickly for her to react, someone untied her hands, placed her on her back, and retied her hands over her head. He climbed back on the bed. 'Did I do well enough that he wants me again?' she thought. 'I'm safe. He'll keep me as his lady.' Then she realized it might not be the same person. 'Not two of them,' she thought, but before she could close her legs someone was between them.

'It's a terrible trick,' she thought. 'One of them had possessed her while the other watched.' She blushed with shame. 'One of them had invaded her and overwhelmed her until she moaned and writhed for their viewing pleasure. They had calmly observed her most intimate moments.'

She felt the other one entering her.

'It's the first one's turn to watch,' she thought. 'What does he like? Does he like seeing a cock part my hairy slit and plunge deep inside me to reappear wet and glistening? Does he like the vee shape of my thighs? Does he like the other view...the soles of my feet, my hips with the crack between them, my pink pucker, the shaft moving in and out of me? Does he like my sighs and squishy wet noise? Does he like watching the one on top of me have fun?'

'I'll show you fun. Want to watch a pureblood? Watch my legs go up. Watch me groan as your friend slams into me. Don't you wish you were the one driving me wild? Don't you wish you were the one making me lose control, making me yell and thrash as you had your way with me? Wouldn't you like to be the one between my legs as I arch my back and moan just before I yield, just before I do it? Yes, get jealous. Watch the lucky one on top of me as I wrap my legs around him and pull him into me. Watch as I make him lose it and squirt into me. Don't you wish you were your friend?'

'Your friend on top of me wishes he was you. He wishes he was watching this, watching his friend drive a lady wild, watching his friend get the ride of his life, watching his friend make a lady moan and squirm, watching his friend gush into her, watching her as she realizes she's going to have an orgasm.'

Narcissa shone. Her weapon was her lust-enhanced beauty. Her advantage was her surrender. Her victory was experiencing sex as never before and taking her captors with her. They romped like the first and last couple on earth. Their sex shot through them, leaving nothing else. They collapsed. Surely, Narcissa had prevailed.

The rope and blindfold disappeared. Narcissa was alone in her well-lit bedroom with Lucius.

"Oh, sweetheart," she said, wrapping herself around him. "That was wonderful."

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She held him until her heartbeat returned to normal. "Let's shower together, love."

Later, between fresh sheets, she held him and ran her fingers through his hair. 'I have the best husband,' she thought as she fell asleep.