The Spring of the Satyr

A strong, piercing wind bit through Hermione’s heavy woolen coat as she made her way through the deep snow down the winding path to Hogsmeade. She hugged her arms tightly to her chest and sniffled. Her thoughts drifted away from the blistering cold towards the wizard she was going to meet. Please oh please let him be waiting for her!

A familiar heat invaded her core as she let his face flit across her mind. Her steps quickened.
Behind her, invisible feet left imprints in the snow, keeping pace with the girl. The Carrow’s had kindly taught a few of their favorite students the difficult charm of disillusionment. Draco had rarely needed to put the spell to practical use, but if ever there were a time it was now. Watching her pace increase to almost a run, Draco followed silently.

**

Hermione sighed in contentment as strong fingers worked the lather carefully through her hair. Hot, steamy water beat deliciously on her shoulders as she leaned back against his hard, soapy chest.

“Mmmmm,” She breathed, pushing her sudsy bottom against him. “That’s one of my favorite things you do to me.”

Pulling her head under the streaming water, Lucius smiled. “Really?” His fingers combed carefully through her hair, making sure the suds were out before standing her up and pushing her against the wall. He grabbed the bar of sweet-smelling soap and rubbed his slick hands over her breasts until she moaned with pleasure. “I can do your hair again if you’d like that better.” He said teasingly.

“No, this is nice too.” She said in mock indifference, arching her chest into his hands. “You know five days are much too long to be without you.” Hermione purred as his hands moved the bar of soap lower. “I’ve missed you terribly.” She took the bar from him and lathered up her hands. Smiling devilishly into his face, she wrapped the hand around his hardness, her grip nearly tight enough to be painful. “Tell me you love me!” She demanded, sliding her fist up and down his length.

“I love you.” He whispered, closing his eyes as she rinsed him off and sank to her knees.

Hermione smiled delightedly and tilted her head back, letting her mouth fill with the hot water. As she brought her full mouth down and sucked in the iron length of his cock, Lucius’ eyes flew open. He whimpered and thought his legs would buckle. The mixture of the temperature of the water, the pressure as she sealed it in her mouth and the friction of her swirling tongue around the tip brought him almost immediately to the brink. He looked down at her smiling, water-pouched cheeks and watched his dick slide in and out of her beautiful lips.

“Oh,, I love you!” He whispered with a gasp.

Hermione looked up, loving the sight of this man in the throes of such extraordinary lust, and loving the knowledge that she had put him there. Expelling the water in her mouth, she grabbed him by the base, working her hand up and down in a spiral motion in tandem with her mouth at the tip. He was almost there, she could see the tension building in his body, pulling up his balls.

Lucius groaned in ecstasy and grabbed the back of her head, pushing his cock towards the back of her throat. He thrust his hips, fucking her mouth until he was nearly blind with desire. With a loud guttural cry he emptied his seed into her clenching throat, filling her mouth until his come dribbled out the sides.

“I really fucking love you.” He growled raggedly, pulling her up to stand before him.

Smirking in accomplishment, Hermione hugged his wet body close. “I love you too Lucius.”

Lucius turned off the taps and Hermione giggled as he stumbled weak-kneed from the tub. As they lovingly toweled each other dry, neither heard the door of the room open and then close as the tortured, invisible witness to their lovemaking left the room.

**

Narcissa Malfoy pulled the hood of her cloak over her pale hair as she left Borgin and Burkes and looked around cautiously before making her way out onto Knockturn Alley. The new, “respectable” Malfoys had shunned this darker street near Diagon Alley since the end of the war, it wouldn’t do for anyone to see her now.
Smiling, she thought about her purchases, listing in her mind the few more ingredients she would have to find before she could complete the familiar spell. “Where can I find a pig’s bladder at this time of night?” She wondered. The porcine organ was the most important ingredient to the spell. When she’d performed it before, Severus Snape had supplied her with the revolting object, proclaiming the curse she intended it for to be the funniest he’d ever heard of. But now, with the man who’d been her friend, confidant and occasional lover dead, she supposed she’d have to procure it for herself. Butchery,,, disgusting!

She’d first performed the spell over five years ago, after a terrible, ghastly row with her husband. She’d caught the sodding bastard on the floor of his study, mounted in the bottom of Lixivia Darius, her best friend since childhood. It had been a final straw. True, she’d never loved or even liked the man she’d been forced to marry, but the gall of the lecherous dog to actually fuck her greatest friend in her own home! That same night Narcissa had packed her bags and gone, never intending to return. She’d planned to set herself up somewhere with the Malfoy money and never have to see the bastard again. Instead, after only a few months she’d met a charming old wizard in Morocco, who’d taught her some delicious spells of revenge.

Sylvia Clearwater had been her first guinea pig. At first the young debutante had been skeptical. Why would Narcissa pay her so many galleons to bed the gorgeous man she would have fucked for free? “Just promise me that you’ll let me know every detail.” Narcissa had insisted.

Oh, the delight she’d felt when Sylvia had told, in the most disillusioned tones, about her husbands’ sudden impotence! The spell had worked magnificently! Afterwards, she performed the complicated ritual sporadically, only when he truly displeased her. For the last two years, between the return of the Dark Lord and her husband’s almost constant melancholia she hadn’t felt the need to use the spell at all. Lucius rarely left the house, and barely looked at any woman. Narcissa had secretly thought he’d had been too afraid of failure to even attempt an infidelity and had been absolutely overjoyed. Let the sodding prick be as miserable as she was!

Scowling as she considered this latest, most heinous misdeed, Narcissa apparated back to the manor. As she removed her thick winter travelling cloak, she thought of her last floo conversation with her son. Draco had been nearly beyond speech and reason as he’d tried to describe what he’d seen at the Hogsmeade Inn. Narcissa had begged the boy not to use the killing curse upon his father as he wished to. “There are other ways!” She’d reasoned, terrified of losing him. “Please my darling, just be patient. The mudblood bitch is not worth Azkaban.”

She knew the spell she was preparing was not nearly severe enough to suit the crime, but it was a start. What would the filthy little whore think when her “love” could no longer get it up for her? Ha! Smiling, she strode through the manor into her husband’s study. She eyed the room, looking for the right object. There! She pulled a small, leather ottoman to the center of the room. Waving her wand, the ottoman began it’s transformation into a large, smelly, pink pig.

“I think I shall name you Lucius.” Narcissa laughed, as she pulled the short, deadly knife from the pocket of her robes and sliced through the creature’s throat. The pig squealed one sharp, gurgling shriek before falling to the ground. Blood spurted everywhere, coating the pale woman’s lovely, demented face as she worked her knife deep into it’s belly.

**