章 22: CH 22: Lonely Library
{[Last Time in Tainted Desire]}
I expected the sudden brightening her expression showed. I had assumed that even convincing her to swallow would have been a huge challenge, and she was ready to give a show, just for a vague promise of reducing her faux punishment. She opened her mouth, playing my cum, the disgust I was expecting to see surprisingly missing. For a moment, I was struck with a desire to summon Narcissa and force them to play together. It was unfortunate that neither woman was ready for such a thing. "Bravo," I said as Fleur finished her impromptu show, leaving her with a pretty blush. "It was an amazing display, honey. You definitely earned a reduction in your punishment. Of course, there will be still a punishment," I added after a small break. "I will send you some clothes via owl for the next session. Wear them, and only them." I looked her directly in the eye. "Understood?"
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{[Now]}
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....
She nodded but avoided my gaze, no words leaving her mouth. I put my finger under her chin, forcing her to raise her head until our eyes met. "Understood?" I repeated.
"Yes," she mumbled, almost incomprehensible. I quirked my eyebrow, and she repeated, this time louder.
"Good, you can go now, and see you the day after tomorrow."
"But, we were supposed to once every three days," she said.
"Yes, but you are forgetting your failure," I said, and a different expression appeared on her face. It was enjoyable to watch her face transform in indignation, taking the fact that she failed to bring me to climax worse than everything else. She really was a treasure. I was so glad that I managed to get my hands on her before she was sullied by the touch of that ridiculous man.
I watched silently as she pulled her robe on, surprising me with a small dance as her beautiful body disappeared under the cover instead of just redressing mechanically. Then, she disappeared, leaving me busy with my next plan. The night was still young, and I was still horny. Maybe I should pay another visit to a certain bushy-haired bookworm?
******
I apparated to the Grimmauld place, and even before my feet touched the ground, I heard a small pop, and Kreacher appeared before me. "Young master," he said with a calm tone. "How can I help you?"
"Hello Kreacher, how have you been?" I asked.
His eyes watered a little as he answered. "I'm well, young master, thank you." I could easily see the reason, from my knowledge, Regulus was the only 'respectable' wizard that showed any kind of kindness. Seeing me, a pureblood heir of good standing, showing the same while trying to finish Regulus' mission, must have been emotional for him.
"I need your help, Kreacher," I said. "I need to visit the library, but there is no need for your master and his redheaded friend to get disturbed by my unexpected visit, so it's better if they slept uninterrupted." Kreacher nodded, and disappeared, leaving me once again surprised by the stupidity of the most magical families. House elves were clever and vicious critters, and more than willing to act against their master, given half the opportunity. Like now, where Kreacher easily took part in the ridiculous play that I was just a house guest.
I wrapped myself with the invisibility cloak before I walked down from the attic, towards the library. While I wanted to visit Hermione, I also needed to search the library for some esoteric books. Books I had only learned about due to some obscure references in the Malfoy library. One could never have enough spells, potions, and other assorted means to combat and influence people who might think themselves worthy of directing my life.
With that in mind, I sneaked into the library, only to hear a voice that was suspiciously like a moan. I walked towards the source, my wand already in hand, stirrings of the anger in my heart. I had a pretty good guess about whom that voice belonged to, and there was nothing good in reserve against someone who dared to touch what I claimed for me. Their lack of knowledge was irrelevant.
Then, I took a turn, only to meet with a very pleasant view that changed my attitude completely. Apparently, I was only half-right. Hermione was alone, hidden in a forgotten corner of the library, but her hands were busy massaging her tits instead of holding books, her chest naked, her shirt parted invitingly. I smirked, my earlier anger forgotten. In front of me lied the evidence that my spells were holding strong. The frustration was clear on her face even as one of her hands sneaked under her skirt, rubbing herself to reach an orgasm that was resisting the invitation, the achievement of the first spell I had laid on her. And the fact that she was alone despite the burning desire easily read in her face showed that the spell that keeps her away from Potter and Weasley was working equally perfectly. Otherwise, why would she be there, trying to rub herself to oblivion despite sleeping under the same roof with her boyfriend?
For a while, I just watched, my own hand around my cock to enhance the pleasure, as she pulled down her bra, revealing her impressive mounds to my attention. One of her hands hungrily attacked them, pushing deep into her flesh in a hope to bring a climax that wasn't coming. The efforts of her other hands, torturing her clit with a frantic massage didn't change the equilibrium she found herself in as well.
I decided to be a gentleman. First, I cast a low-powered confundus on her, one that would convince her that she was in a dream, as well as slowing her response time. Normally, she was too strong-willed and smart to for it to take control, even from the elder wand. But luckily for me, she was far from her best condition at the moment, driven by a tasty mixture of confusion and arousal. The second spell targeted the environment, putting an illusion over and converting the scenery to Hogwarts library, along with a hazy visual filter that would make the effect more dreamy. Then, I transformed my clothes into Slytherin clothes, complete with the Headboy badge.
I removed the cloak walked to her. "What is going on there, prefect Granger," I bellowed.
She jumped in panic, which caused her breasts to jiggle attractively. "What," she managed to mumble, unable to process the situation with the unmet arousal drowning her thoughts.
"I should be the one asking the question, Miss Granger. One of the best students of the school, shamelessly playing with herself in a place every first year could drop by, disgraceful."
"But…" she started, then unable to come with something to say as she looked around in shock, like a dove captivated by the headlamps of the oncoming car. "It's not what it looks like," she murmured in the end as she tried to fix her clothing, an effort that failed utterly as confundus took a hold. Combined with the rush of adrenaline, it was enough to destroy her motor control, her fingers fumbling drunkenly.
"Really," I said. "That's your story huh." She nodded, and I continued talking, all while walking closer to her. "Maybe we should ask professor Dumbledore," I said even as I put my hand on her cheek, enjoying the way she trembled helplessly under my touch. "No," I added after second. "Professor Dumbledore is far too busy for such a minor thing." She relaxed until I brought my hand down to her neck, gently caressing. "Maybe Professor McGonagall."
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