Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2547062.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Lucius_Malfoy/Pansy_Parkinson
  Character:
      Lucius_Malfoy, Pansy_Parkinson, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Oral_Sex, Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Cross-
      Generation_Relationship, Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Age_Difference,
      Infidelity, Pedophilia
  Series:
      Part 4 of The_Blossom_and_the_Dragon
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-01 Words: 12654
****** In the Name of the Father ******
by Ely_Baby
Summary
     Lucius has a predilection for little girls.
Notes
     Beta-read by QueenBtchoftheUniverse.
                                      ***
Five
The first time Lucius met Pansy, she was nothing more than a child. As soon as
he saw her, he convinced himself that she should have been no more than five
years old – because that was Draco’s age at that time. She was wearing a short
summer dress covered in red flowers and a bow in her hair to keep it away from
her small, doll-like face. She was holding her mother’s hand and looked
everything but shy. Her eyes, the biggest things on her face, wandered around
as if to find something, or someone, to grab and take home with her.
Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco had come across the Parkinsons on their way to
Gringotts, under the glorious sun of a midsummer day. The little girl’s family
had been ecstatic to find the Malfoys right in front of them in Diagon Alley,
and they had eyed Draco as hungrily as if he were a piece of pumpkin pie. Their
intentions were clear, and their reputation preceded them: they were looking
for a way to link themselves to some powerful pure-blood family. How
disappointing would it have been for them to know that Lucius and Narcissa
weren’t looking for a way to soil the blood of their descendants.
Nonetheless, Lucius couldn’t help staring at the petite girl and smirking
softly to himself. She was so small and young, and yet her eyes seemed so
sparkly and spirited. And indeed she looked like a feisty little thing, because
when Draco stuck out his tongue to her, her tiny hand darted forward to pull at
his hair.
He cried hard and Lucius chuckled as he grabbed Draco and picked him up before
the boy could slap her on her delicious, round cheeks.
“Now now, Draco,” he admonished him softly, “we don’t hit little girls, do we?”
Draco pouted and shot a glare at the little girl who was hiding behind her
mother’s legs and listening, with her eyes to the ground, to her father’s
reproaches for having dared to pull a pureblood, young wizard’s hair.
“But she pulled my hair,” protested Draco, crossing his arms on his chest.
Mr Parkinson nodded and beamed at Draco. “Yes,” he agreed hurriedly, “young Mr
Malfoy is right.” He grabbed Pansy’s arm roughly and pushed her in front of
Lucius’ legs. “Tell Mr Malfoy that you are sorry, Pansy,” he ordered her.
Pansy glared up at Draco, whose pout had now been replaced by a smug
expression. “I’m sorry,” she muttered softly.
“I don’t think I heard you,” smirked Draco arrogantly.
Mr Parkinson shook her to urge her to speak louder. “Pansy,” he thundered.
She bit her rosy lip with her milk teeth and her little hands curled into
fists. Lucius could see Mr Parkinson’s fingers dug into her small arm, but she
refused to let them know that she was probably in pain. “I’m sorry,” she
repeated louder.
“I still didn’t hear you,” repeated Draco, his smirk growing wider.
Lucius placed him on the ground and the blond boy looked up at him with eyes
wide, as if he was scared to find himself so close to the girl. “That’s enough,
Draco,” Lucius reproached him calmly, for he couldn’t bear those childish
antics. Draco hurried to grab his mother’s hand and to move away from the girl.
Lucius looked at Pansy, smiling warmly to her. “Pansy,” he murmured gently,
“what a delightful name.”
Mr Parkinson grinned dumbly at him. “Thank you, Mr Malfoy,” he squealed
gleefully, “I chose it.” He looked at Lucius’ son. “And Draco is a remarkable
name too, so strong, so original…”
Lucius narrowed his eyes as he looked at the man. He hadn’t intended to
compliment him, but to talk to the little girl. He returned his stare on her
and saw that she was looking up at him with uncertain eyes. “How old are you,
Pansy?” he asked gently.
She rubbed her nose before replying, “Five and two months.”
“Oh,” he murmured delighted, “you are as old as Draco.” He looked at his son
who didn’t find the thing delightful in the least. “I suppose you’ll be in the
same year at Hogwarts.”
Mr Parkinson seemed ready to faint for the pleasure at that piece of
information. “And I’m sure they’ll be in the same house,” he added gleefully,
“all the Parkinsons have always been in Slytherin.”
Lucius smiled cruelly at him. “Except for the ones who were Muggles, am I
correct?” he asked flatly.
Mr Parkinson turned as red as the flowers on Pansy’s dress and lowered his
eyes, his fists closing at his sides just like Pansy’s. He murmured something
that Lucius couldn’t quite comprehend, but he smirked anyway.
“I think we should go, Lucius,” interjected Narcissa icily, her eyes moving
from the little girl to her husband in a flash. “We have a lot more places to
be after Gringotts.”
“You are right,” agreed Lucius, looking down at little Pansy. He flicked his
wand and conjured a Chocolate Frog out of thin air. He gave it to her. Her face
lit up in excitement as she took it.
“What do you say, Pansy?” asked Mr Parkinson with irritation, while his wife
stared at the scene before her and seemed to hang off her husband's words as he
reprimanded their daughter.
Pansy looked up at Lucius, a big grin on her face. “Thank you, Mr Malfoy,” she
exclaimed in her high-pitched voice. She looked at Draco and smirked as if to
show that she had got something that he didn’t.
Draco glowered.
Pansy unwrapped the sweet and started to suck on it.
Lucius smirked as a nice, tingly feeling spread in his lower abdomen.
***
Twelve
Lucius was delighted to know that the only person Draco had wanted to invite to
the Manor during the summer of his first year was Pansy Parkinson.
The name hadn’t rung a bell at first. He knew the Parkinsons from the club, and
he remembered seeing them with their daughter in Diagon Alley a few years back,
but he couldn’t recall anything extraordinary about them.
But when the little twelve-year-old girl walked through the main door of the
Manor, pageboy cut and immense dark eyes, he remembered everything about her.
He remembered her flower dress, her smooth skin and her feisty attitude. And he
remembered having imagined her as he pushed into Narcissa the night after that
encounter. So petite and fragile that she looked like she could break at any
moment.
“Pansy!” exclaimed Draco happily as he ran down the stairs.
Her face lit up and Lucius chuckled, imagining that neither of the two children
seemed to recall their first encounter and how much they had hated each other
that afternoon.
“Draco,” she beamed.
Draco didn’t hug her, and she didn’t ask him to. Nor did they shake hands or
have any physical interaction. They exchanged a quick glance that to them
seemed to mean much more than it did to Lucius.
“Father, “Draco called, turning to him, “this is Pansy.”
Lucius looked at her amusedly as she walked to him and stretched her tiny hand
towards his. “Mr Malfoy,” she addressed him politely, “Draco speaks so highly
of you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Lucius grabbed her hand and bent over to kiss it. She looked at him without
flinching as his lips came into contact with her soft, warm skin, and he subtly
winked at her. He wouldn’t have done that to any other child. He just wanted to
see her reaction.
“And this is Mother,” added Draco, gesturing towards Narcissa as she walked to
them.
Narcissa looked at their guest with a soft, calculated smile upon her lips.
“Pansy,” she greeted her, “Draco keeps talking about you.” She bent her knees a
little and kissed Pansy on her cheeks.
“I do not,” snapped Draco, flushing slightly.
Lucius looked at him amused. “I’m sure little Pansy would like to see her room,
Draco,” he proposed, snapping his fingers and ordering to the house-elf that
Apparated in front of them to take Pansy’s suitcase to the room Narcissa had
reserved for her.
Draco nodded towards the stairs and guided her through the maze that was the
Manor to a first time visitor.
Lucius’ eyes followed the tiny body of the girl, swaying as she climbed up the
stairs, until she was out of sight, then he turned and looked at Narcissa.
She quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, and he just glided past her and
went into the drawing room.
***
“You are very well behaved, Pansy,” Lucius complimented her at dinner.
She beamed. “Thank you.”
He stared at her as she licked the pumpkin juice from her lips. Her small, rosy
tongue was quick and involuntarily sensual, and Lucius swallowed almost noisily
when her lips shone with her saliva and reddened slightly.
“Lucius,” Narcissa called him, her voice cold, “shall we go through?”
Lucius had to tear his eyes from the little girl to look at his wife. Her
usual, cold stare on him.
“Indeed,” he replied.
***
“We need to talk,” announced Narcissa, walking into Lucius’ study.
Lucius looked up from the letters he was opening and hummed. “So early in the
morning and we already need to talk?”
She closed the door at her back and neared the desk with soft and elegant
steps. “It’s about the little girl,” she let him know sternly.
Lucius’ lips curled into a smile at the thought of Pansy. “What did she do?” he
asked delighted. Maybe if she had misbehaved he could have punished her. He
could already see her pink bum on his lap as he spanked her and she screamed
and writhed.
“She slept in Draco’s room,” Narcissa replied sourly.
He curved his lips in a smirk. “Such precociousness.”
Narcissa’s face hardened. “No,” she continued coldly, “she slept in his bed, he
slept on the floor.”
Lucius chuckled, his eyebrows rising on his forehead. “Isn’t that adorable?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I have no idea why you would encourage such a
friendship, Lucius,” she hissed, pacing the study, “that child has nothing to
offer that could interest Draco.”
Lucius brought his hands in front of his mouth, tapping his fingers together.
“I beg to differ, my dear,” he drawled thoughtfully, “she has a lot to offer
that could interest a young boy.” He pursued his lips. “Or a grown man.”
Narcissa stopped abruptly and stared at him. Her face was a mask of coldness
and slight discomfort as she weighted his words carefully. “Lucius,” she hissed
softly, “she is just a child.”
Lucius smirked, nodding softly in agreement. “And you know how much I love
children, don’t you, Narcissa?”
***
Pansy was a curious child. She was always reading and wandering the Manor, even
alone when Draco would rather go out to fly on his broom or play with games
that a little girl was not interested in.
Lucius delighted in the fact that he would find her alone in the most unlikely
places. Like the kitchens where she had wandered once because she was thirsty
and unable to call a house-elf – there were no house-elves at her house,
apparently. He had given her a glass of pumpkin juice and stared at her white
throat as she gulped down the liquid, both her little hands grabbing the glass
as if it was too heavy for her.
“If you’re ever thirsty again, Pansy,” he told her sweetly, “you come to me.
There’s no need for you to come all the way down here alone.”
She nodded, giving him the glass back. “Thank you, Mr Malfoy.”
Lucius smiled at her, he put the glass on a counter for the house-elves to take
care of, and stretched his hand for her to take. She did, and he squeezed her
tiny fingers in his own and led her away.
***
When Lucius found Pansy in his study, he wondered at what he owed the pleasure
of her presence. Books apparently, for the child seemed to be drawn to them
like a bee to a flower. He had found her many times in the library, either with
Draco or alone, browsing the many tomes and volumes they had there.
“Are you looking for something, Pansy?” he asked flatly, walking into the room
and startling the child.
The book Pansy was holding in her small hands fell to the floor with a thud,
and she jerked her tiny neck to look at the man who strode in there.
“I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to look through my possessions,” he
added severely, walking to his chair and sitting down.
Pansy swallowed and lowered her eyes.
“Pick up that book,” he ordered, “and bring it here.”
She knelt to pick up the tome and slowly walked to him. She stretched both of
her hands as she gave him the volume. He took it and looked at the cover.
“Moste Potente Potiones,” he read out loud, smirking softly. “Are you good with
potions, Pansy?”
She nodded, a soft smile spreading over her lips.
“Well,” he continued, placing the book on the desk and nodding towards his lap,
“come on. I’ll show you something.”
She frowned slightly, probably unsure if she had understood his gesture
correctly.
He patted his lap to stress the fact that he wanted her to sit there. She
looked up at him and placed her small, soft hands on the armrest, leveraging
her weight to manage to climb onto his lap.
He grabbed her waist, helping her up, and settled her on him. Her small, round
buttocks were resting on his groin, her tiny legs dangling at either side of
his legs. He let his hands stay on her waist as he pushed forward with his legs
to near the chair to the desk, until her flat stomach bumped softly onto the
edge of the table.
He opened the tome and chose a potion with particularly gory imagines, a poison
that would turn a person’s skin inside out. “Read,” he ordered firmly.
He felt her stiffen slightly as she looked at the imagines and started to read,
her lips were moving fast, but no sound was leaving them.
“Read out loud,” he commanded.
Her little fingers curled around the tome’s pages, crinkling them slightly, as
if she didn’t like to be ordered around. “The Evertar Potion,” she read, her
voice tiny. “The Evertar Potion has the primary aim to…”
He shut her words out of his mind. He loved the sound of her voice, but he
didn’t need to know what she was reading. His eyes left the book and he leaned
back against the chair, resting both of his hands on her waist, he drew circles
on her back with his thumbs, mesmerised at feeling the little bumps of her
spine.
He could feel his trousers become tighter as the little, warm child pressed
against him. Her delectable body almost beckoning him to touch it, to feel
every inch of her smooth and even skin, of her hairless legs and her bony
shoulders. He smirked at the thought that she was surely oblivious to the
arousing effect she had on him.
He spread his fingers and noticed with wonder that he could circle her waist
with his hands, touching his digits on either side of tiny body. She took a
deep breath and shifted uncomfortably as if he had just squeezed her too tight,
but she didn’t stop reading.
He moved as well, pushing his erection against her buttocks. Her voice faltered
a little as if she had understood that there was something wrong, that
something that shouldn’t have been there was pushing against her. She shifted
again as if to try to get away from him, but his strong arms circled her waist
as he pushed her back against his stomach. “Keep reading,” he murmured in her
ear, his voice hoarse.
She did as she was told and he moved slowly, circling his pelvis instead of
pushing up between her buttocks. Squeezing her body in his arms without even
noticing. He wanted to touch her, he wanted to push into her, he wanted to keep
her there against him forever.
He moved a little faster and, as he neared his orgasm, he didn’t notice her
body tensing up. Oh but yes, he noticed, but she was only twelve, how could she
have known what was happening behind her? How could she have known what effect
she had on him?
Lucius bit his bottom lip as he came in his trousers. He couldn’t restrain a
groan of pleasure and he pushed his forehead against Pansy’s shoulder blades,
his arms tightening around her.
He didn’t notice when she stopped reading. He didn’t see her expression as she
looked in front of her with her eyes wide. She surely couldn’t understand, but
she knew that something had happened.
Lucius couldn’t resist. He stretched his neck and licked her spine where it was
visible above her dress. She shivered and moved away from the wet muscle, and
he let her slide off his legs without stopping her.
She turned to look at him with a scrutinising glare that seemed to try to
understand what he had done, what had just happened to her. To him. She didn’t
seem to find an answer in his clouded eyes and flushed cheeks.
He shifted on the chair and cocked his head as he looked back at her. “Off you
go, Pansy,” he ordered firmly, “I’m sure Draco will wonder where you are.”
She didn’t say anything, but walked away as he had told her to do. He took out
his wand and cleaned himself, a blissful expression on his face.
***
Thirteen
“I don’t think Pansy should come this year.” The moonlight that filtered
through the windows made Narcissa look like a ghost amongst the soft, dark
covers of their king size bed.
Lucius turned to look at her. “Why?” he asked softly.
“You know why,” she replied coldly.
He smirked. “I don’t. Is it because of Draco?” he questioned, feigning
ignorance.
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “Lucius,” she growled warningly.
He cocked his head. “Are you worried for the child?” he quipped mockingly.
Narcissa didn’t reply, but her face hardened as she twisted her fingers
nervously in her lap.
He came closer to her, wrapping his arms around her stomach to pull her against
him. He pushed his nose in her golden hair. “I didn’t know my wife was so
soft.”
She placed her hand on his. “I am not,” she replied coldly, “but she is not one
of the children of the Quiet Witch. This one has a name and a family and we
don’t need any more scandals after the war.”
Lucius chuckled. “Are you afraid she would tell everybody what Mr Malfoy does
to her?” he quipped. “Because I’m sure she will keep quiet, with the right
encouragement.”
“Yes,” she replied calmly, “but people could notice… things.”
“I won’t leave marks,” he let her know, “and you have my word I won’t take her
until she loses her virginity.” He chuckled. “Maybe to Draco.”
Narcissa scoffed at that. “Oh, you don’t have to give me your word, I know how
much you dislike to take a girl for the first time,” she murmured as if
remembering, “the blood, the screams, the pain in her eyes…”
He tightened his arms around her to make her stop talking. “Yes,” he muttered
darkly, “you know me.”
***
Draco and Pansy seemed to spend every single moment of their time at the Manor
together, sending Lucius into constant fits of rage. He pushed open her door at
night only to find her gone to Draco’s room, probably building a fort made of
pillows or talking until they fell asleep. He couldn’t imagine them kissing
yet, but he could imagine himself kissing her. Her mouth, so small and warm and
his tongue, probably too big for her, caressing and memorising every inch of
her warm cavern. He felt himself grow hard every time his mind wandered through
those thoughts.
He tried to corner her in the library, but Draco was always a few chairs away.
They were doing their homework together or reading forbidden books about dark
magic and dark artefacts. He tried to walk into her bathroom when he knew she
was taking a steamy hot bath, but the door was always locked. And he found
himself wondering if that was Narcissa’s doing.
But even though he was growing impatient, he reminded himself that Pansy would
be there for the whole summer, and that surely there would be a time for him to
quench his lust.
***
And the time finally came.
Contrary to what Lucius expected, there were already kisses between Pansy and
Draco. Small pecks, almost shy gestures, awkward glances and fumbling hands.
Lucius chuckled as he discovered the couple on one of the armchairs of the
drawing room, Pansy on Draco’s lap, his hands on her hips.
With difficulty, the older wizard had to hide his amusement and stride in there
and scold the kids apart. Pansy looked crestfallen to have been found in such a
position, Draco smirked without conviction as if he was trying to pretend,
without succeeding, that he didn’t care if his father saw them.
But from that moment on, Lucius had no difficulties finding Pansy alone.
***
“Isn’t it too late, Pansy, to be wandering the Manor?” asked Lucius delighted.
In fact, it wasn’t too late, nor she was wandering. She was merely reading on
an armchair in the drawing room, and the red light of the setting sun was still
filtering through the windows.
Pansy looked up from her book, her eyes wide. “I’m just reading,” she replied
softly as if to justify why she was there instead of being in bed.
Lucius smiled at her. He circled the armchair where she was crouching and sat
on another one, opposite to her. “My dear,” he whispered, “shouldn’t you be
getting ready to be in bed? Or do you think yourself too old to have a
bedtime?”
Pansy furrowed her brow, but closed her book and unfolded her legs to stand up.
“No,” she replied almost submissively, and Lucius loved the sound of her high-
pitched voice.
“But you are grown enough to be kissing Draco, aren’t you?” he asked her with a
smirk.
She gasped softly, her cheeks flushing. “I—”
“Do you like it?” his voice was slightly hoarse with anticipation, and he felt
a well-known excitement starting to spread in his lower abdomen.
Pansy swallowed, lowering her eyes. “I… I do.”
Lucius’ smirk broadened. “You do,” he repeated to himself rather than her. He
stretched a hand in front of her and she looked at it warily before taking it.
When her nimble fingers closed around his palm he pulled her to him, slowly but
firmly, until her tiny legs were bumping against his knees. He pulled a lock of
hair away from her eyes and smiled. “Do you like kissing Draco,” he asked, “or
do you like kissing?”
She furrowed her brow without understanding why he would ask her such things.
“I like kissing Draco,” she clarified.
Lucius’ hands went to her waist. He opened his legs and pulled her even closer
to him, until her thighs were resting against the armchair. “How do you know?”
he asked softly. “Have you ever kissed anybody else?”
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “No,” she admitted.
Lucius cocked his head. “And would you like to?” he murmured.
Pansy tried to step back, but his hands squeezed around her waist and he kept
her in place. Did she already know what was coming? Could she recognise the
lust in his eyes? The excitement in his voice?
“Would you like to, Pansy?” he repeated, more firmly.
She swallowed. “I… I don’t know…”
He smirked again, bending over to come closer to her small face. He could
almost see the vein of her neck thumping with her heartbeat, he could almost
smell her fear.
“Mr Malfoy…” she breathed out shakily.
He shushed her softly. “Don’t speak, Pansy,” he whispered, before placing his
lips on hers. She was soft and small and tasted like Chocolate Frogs, the
sweets she liked so much. She was also unresponsive to his ministrations, but
Lucius didn’t mind.
From her waist, he raised his hands to her sides and stretched his fingers
until his thumbs were touching the smallest nipples he had ever felt under his
digits. She gasped, her arms going to his wrists to probably make him stop. He
didn’t. He just pulled her towards him and traced her lips with his tongue. She
didn’t respond, and when he withdrew he saw that her eyes were wide and filled
with horror.
“Open your mouth,” he grunted hoarsely, “when you feel my tongue.”
“I should—”
But whatever she thought she should do, she couldn’t, because Lucius was once
more on her and he was tracing her lips with his tongue again. She didn’t open
her mouth though, and he grunted in frustration when he could feel her little
teeth clenched behind her lips. He used his tongue to move her pouty bottom lip
aside and bit on it with his own teeth.
She cried out almost immediately, her mouth finally opening and letting him
enter her. He explored every inch of her, his tongue sliding over hers and over
her walls. She was moaning but from the way she was struggling under his hands
and pushing against his chest, he knew it wasn’t in pleasure.
The kiss lasted too little for Lucius, but he had to break it to come up for
air. When he opened his eyes to look at her, he noticed that she was petrified
as if he had just cast her under a Full Body-Bind Curse.
He brought one of his thumbs to the corners of her mouth to clean some saliva
away and smiled almost affectionately at her. She still didn’t move.
“You taste so good,” he murmured lustily, “like chocolate.”
Still she wouldn’t budge, her wide eyes fixed on him as if she was trying to
understand why he had done that to her.
“Did you like it?” he asked her, amused at her expression.
She didn’t look away, but didn’t speak.
Lucius darkened suddenly. “Pansy, it’s not polite to stare, nor it is to not
reply when you are asked a question,” he pointed out.
She swallowed, her white throat moving sensually. “I didn’t like it,” she
stated, her voice soft but firm.
Lucius chuckled. “We’ll do it again and again,” he let her know gingerly,
“until you like it.”
She bit her bottom lip, looking crestfallen at that piece of information.
“Draco wouldn’t like me to,” she whispered.
Lucius glared at her. “You are not to tell Draco,” he hissed, “nor Narcissa or
anybody else. Whatever we do it’s only our business, do you understand me?”
Her bottom lip quivered as if she was about to cry at his tone, and Lucius
softened. “There, there,” he whispered soothingly, caressing her hair, “Draco
wouldn’t want to hear your stories anyway. He wouldn’t like it and he wouldn’t
like you anymore.” He brushed his thumb against her cheek. “Is that what you
want?”
She shook her head softly, still her bottom lip would not stiffen.
“Good,” smirked Lucius, “now go get ready. It’s time to go to bed.”
***
Lucius kissed Pansy so many times that summer that he could swear that by the
end of August, the lips of the child had swelled.
Right after their first kiss, she had followed Draco around the Manor, never
leaving his side not even for the briefest moment. And that caused an
unexpected reaction in his son, who sometimes tried to disappear only to have
some quiet time by himself, leaving Pansy frantically looking for him from room
to room.
Somehow she always came to meet Lucius instead, who would smile at her and then
take her to one of the many forsaken rooms of the Manor, where he could sit her
on his legs or on the table in front of him and suck on her sweet lips for as
long as he wanted. She never looked for him, but she was becoming almost
responsive to his ministrations now. She closed her eyes and she wasn’t scared
anymore, maybe noticing that he didn’t want to hurt her.
When he asked her if she liked it though, she still never replied.
***
Pansy was sitting on the desk in front of Lucius, her feet brushing against his
thighs.
“Do you want me to kiss you in some other places?” he asked her against her
lips.
She swallowed and he didn’t wait for her reply. He started trailing soft kisses
on her jaw, gently alternating licking and sucking and at times biting her
tender skin. He didn’t leave marks, though. He descended and followed a vein on
her white neck with his tongue. He pushed her shirt aside to have access to her
collarbone and playfully bit down on it. She whimpered in pain and he
soothingly licked her there.
He didn’t open the shirt, but kept kissing her through the material. He reached
one of her small breasts and suckled on it until he could feel it perking up.
She shivered at the sensations and he smirked satisfied to finally having
enticed a response from her. When there was a wet patch on her chest, he moved
his attention to the other breast, until Pansy was trembling in his arms.
He withdrew when she took a sharp breath and looked up at her. She had her
mouth open, her cheeks were flushed and she was probably very close to feeling
something she couldn’t even understand.
Lucius smirked. “Does it feel good?”
She still didn’t reply, but he didn’t care anymore. He stood up and grabbed her
waist, inclining her pelvis to get easier access to her. He brought his hand
between her legs and found her cotton knickers slightly damp already.
“So wanton,” he murmured.
He lowered his head to kiss her again and pushed his thumb against her folds.
She whimpered, her hands grabbing the edges of the desk as he circled her clit
before moving to her entrance to push slightly into her.
He could tell when she came because her breath quickened and she tried to close
her legs. He withdrew to look at her as she scrunched her eyes up and shook.
Then he smirked again and walked away, leaving her alone in his study.
***
Fourteen
As summer neared, Lucius grew more and more impatient. The girls of the Quiet
Witch were a nice distraction to take his mind off what he wanted and could not
have, but they weren’t enough, and more than once he had found himself
fantasising about Pansy as he pushed into one of the young prostitutes.
He found himself hoping for her to come to his Manor and be no more a virgin.
He wanted to write to Draco and urge him to take her. Lucius himself had taken
children younger than her, and never was one untouched.
With difficulty, he brushed those feelings aside. In case she was still a
virgin, he would put her mouth and her hands to good use that year. After all,
fourteen was a good age to be initiated to the art of pleasuring a man.
***
He moaned against her lips as she pressed herself against him. She was no more
reticent during their encounters. She never searched him, but she didn’t
complain anymore, not even with her eyes.
“You improved,” he complimented, kissing her jaw.
She curved her lips in a shy smile and started to play with his robes.
“Did you kiss a lot of boys this year at Hogwarts?” he asked her naughtily.
She shook her head. “Only Draco,” she whispered.
Lucius was surprised. Surely, he knew that Draco and Pansy fancied each other –
if they didn’t she wouldn’t be there at that very moment – but he hadn’t
expected them to be in such a solid relationship.
“And did Draco kiss a lot of girls?” he asked her, smirking.
Pansy looked at him, outraged. “No!” she replied forcefully.
He chuckled and looked at her. At fourteen she was no more the little girl he
had fondled the first time she had sat on his lap. Her legs were longer and her
pretty face had lost some of her roundness typical of children. Her hair was
always styled in the same pageboy cut she had had ever since Lucius could
remember, and her skin was as milky as snow, but her eyes seemed less naïve and
her breasts were fleshier.
He gently pushed her off his lap and she looked at him without understanding,
probably wondering if their kissing session was already over that night,
probably rejoicing at the thought. He smiled as he guided her between his legs,
and told her to kneel there.
“Do you remember last year, Pansy?” he asked softly. “Do you remember how good
it felt when I touched you?”
She swallowed, nodding softly. He kept his eyes on hers as he unbuttoned his
trousers. She glanced quickly at his hands as they dove into his underwear and
fished out his half-erect member. When she looked back up at him, her eyes were
wide and silently pleading. Lucius ignored them.
“You don’t want to be ungrateful, do you, Pansy?” he asked her softly. “You
want to repay my generosity, am I correct?”
She didn’t reply, but now her eyes seemed to scream that she would have done
everything but that. As if she already knew what he wanted. That witty child!
Unluckily for her, that was the only thing that Lucius wanted.
“Take it,” he commanded throatily.
She didn’t look at his member. “I don’t know how,” she whispered frantically.
He smiled in a fatherly way, taking her hands in his he placed them at the base
of his member. She was shaking now, and it wasn’t a bad feeling to sense the
vibrations on his sensitive length. Nonetheless, he needed her to move those
nimble fingers of her up and down his shaft, to make him hard, to let her be
able to take him in her mouth…
He put his hands over hers and instructed her how to do it. “Move your hands,”
he grunted, “like that… faster… yes… don’t use your nails… touch my balls… hmm…
like that… faster…”
He didn’t look at her face, he was sure that if he did he would have found her
looking back at him with glassy eyes and a scared expression, not something he
wanted to see at that moment.
“Take me in your mouth…” he grunted softly.
Pansy’s hands stopped and she took them away with a jerk, causing Lucius to
whimper at the loss of contact. “No!” he half-cried. “I said, take me in your
mouth!” He stretched his hands towards her head and grabbed two fistfuls of
dark locks. She let out a whine at the sudden movement, but soon he was
thrusting his erection past her lips and she didn’t even have time to clench
her teeth, and he was already pushing against the back of her throat.
His eyes rolled back in his head at the warmth and softness of her mouth. He
kept her head in place, pushing as far as he could go. She brought her small
hands to his lower abdomen, pushing slightly as her face turned red and her
eyes watered.
Now she was quite the sight. He didn’t even have to thrust and he came, sending
warm spurts of seed deep into her throat. He released her then, not wanting her
to suffocate on his shaft.
She fell back on the floor, coughing and spluttering his semen on the wood
boards. She bent forward, leaning on her knees and hands while she looked like
she was about to throw up. Warm tears were spilling from her eyes and  were
falling silently near her hands.
Lucius cleaned himself and tucked his flaccid member back into his trousers,
buttoning them up. He looked at her with a smirk and waited for her cough to
subdue before he stretched a hand towards her.
Pansy looked at him with shiny eyes, cleaning her lips with the sleeve of her
shirt. She pushed his hand away and lowered her eyes, but he could see the
anger flashing in them.
“Pansy,” he growled warningly, “don’t be impolite.” He stretched his hand
towards her again and this time she took it. He pulled her to her feet and
towards him, until she was sitting once again in his lap.
He placed a finger under her chin and raised her head to make her look at him.
She kept her eyes low as he did.
“Pansy,” he repeated harshly.
She finally looked at him, her dark eyes two pools of misery.
“Now, now,” he soothed her gently, “next time will be better.” He kissed and
licked her until he could taste himself. She let him do whatever he wanted and
didn’t complain, as if she had complained enough already and that brought her
nowhere.
***
Lucius pushed Pansy’s door open only to find her room empty.
“If you are looking for her,” murmured an icy voice at his back, “you will find
her in Draco’s room.”
Lucius turned to look at his wife and darkened. “Again?”
Narcissa raised her chin. “Every night,” she informed him. She studied her
husband’s face, cocking her head slightly. “Are you jealous?”
“Don’t insult me, Narcissa,” he said softly, but yes, he wouldn’t confess it
even to himself, but he was jealous.
Narcissa crinkled her nose. “What did you do to her?” she asked coldly.
Lucius leaned against his cane. “Why do you ask?”
“Because she was crying crumpled on the floor of her room the other evening,”
she replied emotionlessly, “but she wouldn’t say why.”
Lucius smirked. “She is just a sensitive child,” he told her dismissively, “I
barely touched her.” He licked his lips at the memory. “She touched me a lot,
though.”
Narcissa shook her head softly in disapproval.
He barely looked at his wife as he walked past her and towards Draco’s room. He
believed Narcissa, but nonetheless he had to see her with his eyes. He had to
see her sleeping with his son.
He pushed the door open and stared at the scene in front of him with an
impassive expression. Draco was lying on his back, his head resting on the
pillows. Pansy lay on top of him, on her stomach. Her forehead was pushed
against his throat, her hands had found their way under his armpits. One of
Draco’s arms was wrapped leisurely around her back. They looked happy and in
love. Lucius smirked as he wondered if Draco would have noticed if he dragged
her away. Yes, he would certainly.
Lucius closed the door. He should have talked to her. He didn’t like not to
have access to her whenever he wanted. This was his Manor still, not Draco’s.
***
“Why do you sleep in Draco’s room, Pansy?” he asked softly as she came up from
the floor and he tucked away his member. She was naked, just the way Lucius
liked a girl to be. It was the first time he saw her naked, and he had come
almost more quickly than the other time, when he had pushed into her with
force, raping her mouth against her will.
He liked her like that. If it wasn’t for Draco and Narcissa, he would have
ordered her to walk around with no clothes every single day of summer.
She was small and her breasts were barely more than those of a boy, but she was
hairless and smooth and delicious and he just wanted to wrap her in his arms
and never let her go.
He also wanted to pound into her sweet cunt, but that had to wait.
He grabbed her waist, raised her and made her sit on the desk in front of him.
“Pansy,” he warned softly, “you know I don’t like it when you don’t reply.”
She swallowed. “I like to sleep with Draco,” she told him softly, closing her
legs in front of him.
“Do you do to him what you do to me?” he asked amusedly, his hand going to her
thigh to stroke her gently
She shook her head furiously. He chuckled.
“Why do you like to sleep with him?”
She didn’t reply, but she bit her bottom lip when he pushed her little legs
apart.
“Do you feel safe with him?” he asked, tracing his finger closer and closer to
her centre. “Are you afraid that something might happen to you when you are
alone in your room?”
She shivered at his words, or was it at his fingers?
“Pansy,” he growled, “what do you do when you are asked a question?”
She took a sharp breath. “Answer it,” she replied as his finger ghosted over
her clit. “I’m not afraid.”
“Then I would really like to find you in your room every now and then,” he
whispered, pushing against her clit and massaging it gently.
She gasped, her toes curling near his knees. “Draco would want to know why,”
she breathed in a choked voice.
“Tell him you are not feeling well,” he suggested. “He’ll understand.” And as
he pushed a finger into her he felt her contracting around it and she shivered
as she came.
***
Lucius was outraged as he visited Pansy that night. He had heard her telling
Draco that she wasn’t feeling too well and instead of leaving her alone, he had
gone to sleep in her room. Now, his arms were wrapped around her and she had
pushed her nose against his collarbone. In the semi-darkness of the room he
could hardly tell where one ended and the other began.
Lucius closed the door unceremoniously as he exited, he was livid.
No, he was jealous.
***
“Are you surprised she spends all her nights with Draco? Are you really that
deluded, Lucius? You think she comes here summer after summer just to feel your
sloppy tongue in her mouth? To have your rough fingers between her legs? To be
pushed on her knees in front of you like a prostitute? Is that what you think?
She only endures you so that she can see him. She bears with your requests
because she is afraid that you will tell her to get out of your house and she
won’t be able to be with him. Don’t you understand? If she could, she would
close her nimble fingers around your throat and choke you to death every time
you ask her to pleasure you. If she could, she would spend her whole life next
to your son, the only person who makes her feel safe in this house.”
***
Fifteen
“When are Draco and Pansy arriving?” asked Lucius as Narcissa buttered her
toast.
“Draco is arriving tomorrow,” she replied flatly.
Lucius looked at her. “And Pansy?”
Narcissa didn’t look up from her toast, but put down the knife and brought a
cup of tea to her mouth before replying. “I haven’t talked to her parents yet,”
she informed him.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked in a hiss.
Narcissa looked at him, her eyes cold and amused. “Are you worried that she
won’t come this year?”
Lucius glared at her for making fun of him. “Yes,” he replied coldly, “for I
think this year could be extremely interesting for my dear Pansy and me.”
Narcissa’s eyes seemed to burn with rage at the way he called the girl. “Do you
think she will give herself to Draco?”  she asked lightly.
“Maybe she has already done it,” he replied thoughtfully, “either way, it’s
long overdue. We were more precocious than them.”
Narcissa half smirked at that. “I remember,” she agreed, “but my dear Lucius,
shouldn’t you be more concerned with the Dark Lord, rather than a fifteen-year-
old girl?”
Lucius stiffened at the mention of Voldemort. The Dark Lord was displeased with
him, he knew that. He was concerned enough, he didn’t need his wife to remind
him. What he needed now was some solace in the arms of a child.
***
Pansy panted in his lap. Lucius was furious with her. She hadn’t given her
virginity to anybody at all, he hadn’t believed her at first, but then he had
pushed a finger into her and brushed her still-intact barrier, and his sight
had blurred with fury.
He had vanished her clothes, smirking at the thought that she would have had to
go back to her room completely naked. He had pulled her to him and snarled at
her to move her hips until she made him hard. He would decide then what to do
with her.
Once he could feel his erection pressing uncomfortably against his robes he
threw her on the floor and guided her head down on him. He pushed brutally into
her mouth, until he felt her gasping and gagging around his length. Her hands
pushed at him with force, but he ignored her as he kept his erection sheathed
into her.
It was only when he saw her eyes rolling at the back of her head that he
released her. She took a sharp breath and tried unsuccessfully to grasp his leg
to steady herself, one of her hands going to her throat as if to urge it to
gulp down air. She fell on the floor, breathing heavily and unable to move.
He looked at her with disdain. His member still hard. “Is it so hard for you to
give yourself to my son?” he hissed. “Or to any other wizard, I don’t care.”
She didn’t reply, still trying to catch her breath.
He bent over with difficulty with his erection still standing between his legs,
but he managed to grab her arm and drag her up to him again.
She whimpered at his iron-like fingers, but didn’t look up at him.
“I could push my wand into you,” he whispered to her, “until it comes back
covered in blood.”
She swallowed and took a deep breath before speaking. “Why don’t you just take
me?” she pleaded, her voice tiny and croaky.
Lucius cocked his head. “I believe I already told you that I don’t like
virgins,” he muttered softly, “I don’t like their blood on me. I don’t like the
look in their eyes when I hurt them.”
“You are hurting me now,” she let him know, looking away.
“Yes,” he replied gently, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “but this I
can stop whenever I want.” He wrapped his arms around her, making her sit on
his erection without entering her. He marvelled at the feeling of her wet folds
against his member. “You don’t understand, Pansy,” he murmured, “with the Dark
Lord’s return…” his words trailed away as he sighed before continuing, “With
the Dark Lord’s return every day my life is in danger.” He kissed her
delicately on her forehead. “If I die without having made love to you, my dear,
dear flower, I would come back to haunt you as a ghost for eternity.”
Pansy looked at him, her eyes wide as she probably hadn’t expected him to say
anything like that. He did though, and Lucius knew that she probably felt loved
at that moment.
She lowered her eyes though, still at a loss of words.
“Doesn’t Draco want you?” asked Lucius, raising her chin with his fingers. “You
are so pretty, surely he wants to have you.”
She flushed, and Lucius was amused for she was already naked and straddling his
erection, he thought that nothing would have made her flush. Certainly not his
words.
He kissed her and she did her best to kiss him back, but she didn’t even seem
to bother to pretend that she liked it. He withdrew and wrapped his arms around
her, pushing her against his chest and trapping her arms between them. He moved
in circles under her, his erection pushing leisurely against her folds and her
clit.
She put her head against his chest, breathing fast as he kept fondling her. He
came with a groan, his seed covering her folds and raining down on his robes.
When he unwrapped his arms from around her, she didn’t move. He caressed her
back and kissed until she was ready to stand.
***
Narcissa seemed to be almost unable to keep her composure. “She said she
doesn’t want it,” she let him know, her voice vibrating with scorn.
“Apparently, she has no intention to give her virginity to anybody at all for a
while.”
Lucius put down the glass of Firewhiskey with a loud thump. “Tell her to take
it anyway,” he hissed, “she doesn’t know what might happen to her. I hardly
think she would like to end up being with child at fifteen.”
Narcissa cocked an eyebrow. “I got a letter from her mother this morning,” she
added, “she thinks that Pansy should go back home earlier this year.” She
sipped some tea from a beautifully decorated cup. “They don’t think it’s safe
here, not with my sister coming.”
Lucius gritted his teeth. “They can’t have her,” he grumbled. “She is going to
be perfectly fine here.”
Narcissa snorted. “They are her parents, of course they can have her if they
want.”
“Not if I say so,” he hissed.
Narcissa laughed at his words. “Would you like to kidnap her, Lucius?” she
quipped and he growled at her. “I think you should focus on more important
questions at this moment. The Dark Lord isn’t too pleased with us,” she looked
at him meaningfully, “with you. You should worry about staying alive rather
than finding your pleasure in the arms of a child.”
Lucius glared at her and stood up. “My wife,” he growled venomously, “always so
wise.”
Narcissa cocked her head. “I know,” she agreed icily, “what would you do
without me?”
***
Sixteen
As summer approached, Lucius spent his days looking out of the bolted window in
his cell with longing. Life in Azkaban wasn’t as bad as he had expected, and he
surely felt safer than he had ever been since the Dark Lord’s return. He found
himself hoping for Draco and Narcissa to be safe too.
And he found himself longing for Pansy.
Even though the days were a blur now, he imagined it was the end of the school
year and that Draco was going back home. And then Pansy arrived as well. She
was sixteen now, surely old enough to be with a man.
Lucius’ hand went to his groin as he closed his eyes and imagined Draco and
Pansy naked in his bed. She probably thought that she would have never seen
Lucius again, she probably felt safe enough as she gave her virginity to his
son and thought that he would have never come out of Azkaban to claim what he
had waited for so long to have.
He pushed his hand into the bottoms of his grey, uncomfortable uniform to stir
his member to life. Even though he couldn’t have her for real, certainly nobody
would have stopped him if he imagined her tiny body wrapped around him in his
bed at the Manor. Surely he could have taken that freedom.
He pictured her. So small, so tight around him. She was writhing, shivering,
moaning his name. She was flushed and warm and soft and petite. So petite, she
was like a child again.
He imagined himself grazing her skin as he pushed into her on his desk, on the
couch, against the wall. He only had to choose.
He came with a grunt and only when his sticky cum made a mess in his uniform
did he remember that he didn’t have his wand anymore.
***
Seventeen
Freedom.
Freedom had never tasted sweeter for Lucius.
For him, freedom would have been the mouth of a seventeen-year-old girl against
his own, her hands on his chest, her legs around his waist and finally, her
warmth around his erection.
Freedom would have been to come into that little body of hers without worrying
about anything or anybody.
***
He didn’t cut his beard when he escaped from Azkaban. He liked the stubble,
somehow it made him feel more manly. His hair was longer too, and he didn’t cut
it either, he would have waited until everything was over. Until he would have
his Manor back.
He was celebrated only briefly in his household, his wife and his son still too
shaken by the presence of the unwanted guests and the occurrences of the past
year. He didn’t care too much. All he wanted was Pansy, and Pansy arrived as
always on the morning of a bright Sunday in June.
She used the Floo Network from her own house and stepped out of the fireplace
of the drawing room with her eyes wide. Draco had been waiting impatiently for
her for a whole week, and the need to have someone his age around the house
after such a difficult year was tearing him.
Lucius looked from the hallway as Draco kissed her and hugged her and touched
her, oblivious to his presence.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” he whispered frantically, “now that I need you
so much.”
She hugged him her eyes filled with misery at his words. “My mother didn’t want
me to come,” she admitted. “I promised I would be back in two weeks.”
Draco groaned. Of course, Pansy was his excuse to stay away from his Aunt and
the Dark Lord. He would have hidden in one of the many rooms and she would have
comforted him endlessly.
Lucius felt the urge to find Draco something to do to keep him away from her.
He looked at the couple and saw that Pansy was looking back at him, her eyes
cold.
“Pansy, my dear,” he greeted her, walking into the drawing room, “so nice to
see you here.” He opened his arms and waited for her to go to him.
She detached herself from Draco and went to hug him. He closed his eyes as he
inhaled her sweet scent and wrapped his arms around her body.
He hadn’t seen her in two years, and she was not a child anymore. She was
seventeen, she wasn’t even underage. Lucius chuckled silently as he thought how
honourable he had actually been, waiting for her to be of age before he took
her. Naturally, waiting against his will, but still…
She pushed on his chest and he let her go. She looked at him with inscrutable
eyes. “So nice to see you out of Azkaban, Mr Malfoy,” she replied coldly.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I know.” He looked at his son. “Draco, why don’t you
bring Pansy to her room? I’m sure she wants to unpack her things and relax.”
Draco nodded and grabbed her hand. He didn’t really need to guide her, she had
been sleeping in the same room every year and she knew the way around the Manor
now, but if Lucius couldn’t have had her at that moment he didn’t want to see
her.
Later, he would go and find her when she was alone.
***
Lucius closed the door at his back and spelled it locked before turning to look
at Pansy.
She stood tall and fiery next to her bed, her chin tilted high, her eyes cold.
She was quite the sight. Lucius smirked as he stepped towards her.
“I don’t think we’ve ever used a bed before,” he drawled softly.
Pansy looked away from him. “Draco will be waiting for me,” she whispered.
“Let him wait,” thundered Lucius, “I’ve spent a year in Azkaban. I deserve
this.”
She gritted her teeth. “Mr Malfoy, I—”
“Pansy, dear,” he murmured sweetly, “I’m sure that after tonight you can call
me Lucius.” He studied her face. “I know you call my wife by her first name.”
Pansy nodded.
He smirked and closed the distance between them. He placed his hands on her
waist and bent down to kiss her pouty lips. He was rough and impatient and he
didn’t care, she was not a child of thirteen anymore, she was a woman, she
could take whatever he wanted to do to her. She responded to the kiss, probably
faking enthusiasm, but she was good and soon Lucius was groaning as she sucked
on his tongue, her tiny hands cupping his neck.
“Hmm,” he murmured against her lips, “did you practice a lot while I was away?”
He gave her a few small pecks on her cheeks. “Are you an expert in the art of
sex now, Pansy?” He brushed away a lock of hair from her eyes.
She flushed with anger at his words, as if she considered them an insult, as if
he was calling her a slut. She didn’t reply, though.
Lucius stepped back. “Do you value those clothes, Pansy?” he asked her softly.
“Yes,” she replied forcefully, bringing her hands to her arms and clutching at
the blue shirt she was wearing.
He pointed his wand at her. “Then I suggest you divest in less than ten seconds
or I’ll vanish them,” he smirked. “Ten. Nine. Eight…”
Pansy’s eyes were wide in surprise, but she wasted no time as she fumbled with
buttons and pushed her shirt off her shoulders, her skirt and bra followed
quickly.
“…Two. One. Evanesco!” he smirked as her knickers disappeared.
She looked up at him furiously. “I was almost there,” she hissed. She crossed
her arms under her breasts which were much fuller than he could remember. “Why
didn’t you divest, Lucius?” she asked coldly.
He smiled softly at her tone. “You’re actually right, my dear,” he agreed, “I
should undress as well. For once I think I will.” He cocked his head. “Or
better, you will do it.”
She took a deep breath, her eyes sparkling with irritation at yet another
request, but she walked to him without a word. She looked up to meet his eyes
as her hands unbuttoned his robes. She was quick and slightly uncaring, until
he grabbed her wrists and whispered harshly, “Slower!” She looked away, but
Lucius saw her roll her eyes anyway.
She slowed down her movements, and it took her a few good minutes to undress
him completely. That was the first time that she would have seen him naked and
Lucius almost shook in anticipation.
When all of his clothes were discarded on the floor, he stretched his arms
towards her, grabbing her hips and pulling her to him. He slid his hands on her
sides, pinching and cupping and touching the bones under her skin. He pushed
his half-erect member between her legs and she brushed against it without
flinching.
He smiled, his hands moving to cup her buttocks and part of the back of her
thighs, he raised her legs until she fastened them around his waist. He kissed
her fervently, devouring every inch of her mouth with his tongue and teeth. She
kissed him back, pushing her breasts into his chest, her hands around his neck.
Lucius could feel his erection pushing between her buttocks now. He sighed into
Pansy’s mouth. He should have touched himself, he should have visited the Quiet
Witch, he should have asked Narcissa to get him off before he came to Pansy.
Now he knew he wasn’t going to last, not after a whole year in a cell with his
hand as his sole companion to give him relief.
He let go of her back and grabbed his shaft, guiding it between her legs.
Finally, he pushed up into her. She stiffed as if she was uncomfortable, and
probably she was, he hadn’t even stopped to check if she was wet yet. He was so
hard though, so deliciously ready for her.
“You’re so tight,” he growled against her temple.
And she was, she was tighter than he had expected, tighter than he could have
ever imagined. She was better than how he had pictured her in his wildest
dreams. He hadn’t understood how good it would have felt to push into her when
he had pressed his fingers inside of her.
Oh, but how good she was!
She whimpered only so softly as he sheathed himself completely into her. He
waited then, because her fingers were clutching at his shoulders and she was
torturing her bottom lip, her eyes scrunched up. And surprisingly, he
understood that he didn’t want her to be in pain.
And after all it took her only a few moments before her fingers squeezed his
muscles less tightly and she relaxed slightly. He understood that he could
start to thrust into her then.
He inched slowly out and then slowly back in, quickly picking up a pace that
was leaving both of them breathless. Pansy’s knees squeezed at his sides, her
legs stretching behind his back. She arched her back and he could feel her
muscles tensing. Her breath hitched until she was panting, coming closer and
closer to her orgasm.
But he had promised himself to take her on the bed, where he would have been
more comfortable, where he didn’t have to support her with his legs. He stopped
thrusting then, right before she could reach her release. She groaned as he
stopped and tried to move her hips up and down, trying to push him deeper into
her.
He stilled her and exited her, taking a few steps towards the bed, he tossed
her on it without much grace. She furrowed her brow at his actions, but when he
knelt between her legs and grabbed her waist to turn her on her stomach, she
didn’t utter a word.
He pushed into her from behind, and she was almost tighter than before in that
position. She tried to open her legs to ease his access but he didn’t let her.
He thrust into her in earnest, bending on her prone body until he was lying on
her, pushing her into the mattress with every shove. He could feel her shoulder
blades and almost every vertebra of her spine digging in his flesh. He finally
felt the familiar tug in his balls that preceded his orgasm. He placed a hand
on her shoulder and pushed deeper into her, until he could feel her moaning in
pain or pleasure under him.
He groaned in her ear and kissed her cheek as he came, spilling his seed deep
into her. Then he stilled completely, panting against her face, squeezing her
shoulder and her waist with his fingers, feeling very much alive.
For a moment, a brief moment, he wondered if she had come at all. He couldn’t
tell, she was panting, but in the euphoria of finally being in her and her
being so tight, he hadn’t understood if she had reached her orgasm or not. Then
that moment passed and he decided that it didn’t matter. That night was his.
When he exited her and rolled over to his back, Pansy didn’t move. Her breath
was still ragged and her head was turned away from him.
“Narcissa did give you the potion, didn’t she, Pansy?” he asked her lightly,
stretching a hand to stroke the small of her back.
Her voice was breathless when she spoke, “Yes.”
“Good,” he growled. He wouldn’t have wanted to take care of yet another problem
now that the Dark Lord was about to come to his Manor and do as he pleased.
They stayed in silence for a long time. He brushed her skin delicately, kissing
her here and there, licking her smooth back where her bones could be felt under
the skin.
Then, almost abruptly, she pushed herself up and gave him her back, folding her
legs under her. “Draco will be waiting for me,” she informed him softly, “can I
go?”
He sighed. He wanted to take her again, but he knew that she was telling the
truth, that Draco was waiting for Pansy and he would have come looking for her
if she didn’t show up. “You can,” he replied quietly.
He looked as she stood and found her wand and a nightgown that she was probably
about to wear before he had barged into the room.
In a moment of tenderness he offered, “Would you like me to clean you?”
She looked at him without showing any emotion. “I’m of age now,” she reminded
him simply and to stress that she pointed her wand towards her and cast a
Scouring Charm.
He couldn’t help smiling at her. She turned away and walked towards the door,
pointing her wand to it she said, “Alohomora.” The door opened slowly and she
walked out, not looking back at him.
***
He pushed Pansy against the slick wall of the shower, resting her bottom on the
tiles. He drove into her slowly, his grunts muffled by the roar of the hot
water above their heads. He could take his time, nobody would disturb them in
the bathroom. Certainly not Draco.
“Don’t go next week,” he breathed against the shell of her ear as he pushed
slowly into her, his arms wrapped tightly around her back.
She pressed her cheek against his. “I have to,” she moaned, her fingers
grasping his back for leverage.
“I know Draco doesn’t want you to go,” he rasped, shoving into her with a
particularly vicious thrust.
She whimpered. “Don’t talk about Draco.”
As a reply he smirked and drove into her quickly and raggedly until he could
feel her starting to spasm. “Call my name, Pansy,” he whispered urgently, “call
my name.”
She came with her little toes curling near his buttocks and her tummy
quivering. But she said his name as an afterthought, after she had finished
contracting around him.
He groaned and came into her, and as he did he called her name as if to show
her how to do it.
***
“Do you understand this could be the last time I see you?” asked Lucius,
wrapping his arms around her stomach. His spent member still buried into her
from behind.
“I do,” she replied softly, her hand still shaky as she tried to grasp the wall
in front of her.
“Are you going to miss me?” he asked her, compelling himself to smirk.
She took some time to reply, until his tightening arms around her tore an
answer from her lips. “I might.”
“Think of me when you touch yourself,” he ordered her.
She drew a sharp breath for his grip was too tight around her. “I don’t touch
myself,” she panted.
He chuckled. “Not yet,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.
She shivered. “I really have to go,” she reminded him, softly, “I still have to
say goodbye to Draco.” Her voice was almost broken as she mentioned his son,
and once again Lucius felt a jolt of jealousy towards him.
He released her. “Then go,” he barked, buttoning up his trousers.
She smoothed her skirt and ran away as if he had just opened the cage where he
had been keeping her. He looked at the door for a long moment after she had
disappeared.
***
Eighteen
“I don’t want Pansy to come here, Lucius,” cried Narcissa hysterically. “The
war is over, the Dark Lord is gone. It’s time for us to focus again on our
family.” She narrowed her eyes. “On our blood.” She crossed her arms, leaning
her legs back against her vanity table.
From the bed, Lucius nodded softly. “I’ve never agreed more, Narcissa,” he
replied softly.
She gritted her teeth. “Then why would you let her come?” she hissed. “Just
because you need her? Because you need to feel her?”
“Yes,” he replied gently, “at least one last time.”
Narcissa shook her head, her eyes shining with fury. “Don’t you think about
Draco?” she asked. “We need to find him a wife, a suitable wife, Pansy is not
suitable. She can’t come!”
Lucius waved his hand lazily. “I don’t see how the two things are mutually
exclusive,” he pointed out calmly, “she can come and then you can start looking
for a wife for him.”
“Oh Lucius,” she hissed, “you don’t know her at all! She is a cunning little
minx. What if she gets pregnant on purpose?”
Lucius chuckled. “Why would she?” he asked softly. “She is only eighteen.”
“To marry him!” she replied exasperatedly as if Lucius was being thick on
purpose.
He shook his head. “Don’t tell her that you are looking for a suitable wife for
the love of her life, then,” he pointed out matter-of-factly, “Draco doesn’t
know either. They will think that this is just another summer, not their last
one.”
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you think about your son?” she hissed. “Why
do you want to give him something only to take it away from him?”
Lucius thought about her words, but when he replied he knew that there was only
one answer that he could give her. “Because I want her.”
***
He bit into her shoulder as he came. Only softly, though, he didn’t want to
leave marks on her. Not for Draco to see. He panted against the shell of her
ear, his broad chest pushing against her breasts as he pressed her into the
mattress.
“I like the way you make love to me,” he murmured, licking her ear.
She swallowed. “It’s not love, Lucius,” she corrected softly. “It’s sex.”
He chuckled at her clarification. “Oh, I see,” he purred, leaning back to look
at her, “and do you have sex with Draco too or do you make love to him?”
She darkened and he smirked. “I don’t want to talk about Draco when I’m with
you, you know that,” she bit out.
“I know,” he whispered cruelly. She took a deep breath and he felt her shifting
under him as if she were trying to get away from him, but he didn’t move. He
didn’t exit her.
“Lucius,” she called him patiently.
He kissed her neck. “Narcissa wants Draco to marry a pure-blood witch,” he told
her, his voice cold, “someone rich and someone with some kind of title that can
bring honour and money to this family.”
She stilled and he almost couldn’t feel her breath. He raised his eyes on her,
her face was cold and emotionless as she stared at the ceiling. “Why would you
tell me this?” she hissed, and Lucius was not surprised to hear pain in her
voice.
“To prepare you, my little flower,” he murmured, brushing some hair from her
forehead, “I know you love him, but you have to remember that he will never be
yours.”
She clenched her jaw and pushed her hands against his chest. “Can you get off?”
she asked, her voice a mix of emotions that Lucius couldn’t quite make out.
“No,” he growled, straightening up and grabbing her hips to push her down to
him, “I want to start again.”
***
Nineteen
Lucius was absolutely fascinated with Pansy’s decision to come to the Manor
again. Draco’s wedding invitations had been sent out months before, after only
a few brief encounters with the Greengrasses. Draco didn’t give the impression
to like his betrothed, but he seemed to understand that the marriage would have
been inevitable.
Pansy arrived with great displeasure to both Narcissa and Astoria and with
great pleasure to Draco and Lucius. Even though Draco seemed more worried than
happy to see her, Lucius was just glad that he could take her again.
He thought he would have lost a bit of interest in her, now that she was a
grown up, but she was still so small and youthful that Lucius liked to pretend
that she was still a child.
And now that Narcissa worked hard to keep Draco and Pansy apart, Lucius could
have had her as many times as he wanted. He thanked his wife without telling
her the reason and she looked at him with her forehead creased.
***
Lucius licked his dry lips. “Do you love him?” he asked tonelessly.
Pansy let out a soft snort. “Why is everybody so interested in my feelings?”
she asked. She looked into his grey eyes. “Does he love me?” she questioned
him. “Do you love me? Do you love Narcissa?” She didn’t wait for him to reply.
“I know by now that love is something that the Malfoys are unable to feel.” She
stepped towards the man and put her hands on the armrests on each side of him.
She bent down and brought her warm lips to his ear. He sneaked a hand on her
hip, attracting her towards him, but she resisted him.
“You are all so arrogant. So proud to be born in such a noble household,” she
whispered, “until the day your name won’t be worth a thing and your Manor will
crumble around you, crushing you to death.” She leaned in and kissed him on his
lips, lingering a bit to bite his bottom lip. Again, he pulled her towards him
and again she resisted him. She straightened up, brushed his legs with hers and
walked out of the study without another word.
Lucius couldn’t help staring at the door for a long moment. Her words had the
uncanny feeling of a curse rather than a prediction.
He wondered if she was right.
***
Twenty-Five
Lucius hadn’t lain with Pansy in six years. He hadn’t thought often about her,
the girls at the Quiet Witch and sometimes Narcissa herself had quenched his
lust when he needed release.
He was sure she couldn’t have looked like a child now, it didn’t matter how
much he was going to pretend. She was a young woman of twenty-five. She was
going to marry the next day, but for one last time she would have been his.
Tricking Mr Borgin into letting Pansy come to the Leaky Cauldron the night
before her wedding had been remarkably easy, and Lucius delighted in his simple
but brilliant idea.
Now he waited in the darkness of the room he had booked for her. Waiting for
her to arrive and take her as he had done so many times before. And he had come
to the conclusion that that last time would have been perfect.
With her.
***
Forty
     My dear Pansy,
     I saw your photo on the Prophet. Are you a celebrity now? I almost
     couldn’t recognise you with the flashes of those photographers and
     the Order of Merlin in your hand. But that was you, surely enough,
     the same little flower who had me losing my head for her when she was
     nothing more than a child. Are you a wealthy, respectable witch now,
     Pansy? Are you someone a Malfoy man could only hope to marry? Shh,
     don’t answer. I know your secret, I know you were suitable even
     before.
     You are quite the potion mistress, aren’t you? Creating a panacea to
     all illnesses and now having your name written in books and Chocolate
     Frog Cards. I didn’t know you had such a good heart, Pansy my dear.
     I’m afraid I have to tell you that your draught doesn’t work against
     dragon pox. Nonetheless, I’m proud of you. Proud like a father could
     be proud of his daughter and proud only like a lover could find pride
     in the person he loves.
     My darling Pansy, do forgive me if this letter is short. My hands
     hurt terribly and I would rather endure the pain than having to
     dictate it to someone else.
     Don’t forget me, my little flower. Merlin knows I still remember
     every inch of your body and the feelings you sent down my spine.
     With affection,
     Lucius
                                      FIN
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!