The Not So Good Girl

I

She held Preston in her arms. He was sleeping peacefully, having just taken his midnight feeding, and she laid him down gently in his crib. It was June, and he was now three months old and growing rapidly. He had quickly charmed his way into their hearts, and both she and Draco fawned constantly over him; such a lovely baby he was with his golden peach-fuzz hair and rosy cheeks.

Virginie laid him gently in his crib and looked out the window at the darkness surrounding their home. The mist and fog that had hung over the countryside when the Dementors had first fled Azkaban had returned, and it blanketed the landscape, making her shiver. Days had passed and more people were dying—it was almost enough to make you not want to leave the house, ever. Needless to say, they were moving in packs, and she and Draco had taken to bringing Preston to work with them instead of leaving him with Virginie’s mother. She shut the window to Preston’s room, for it had grown very chilly with the slight breeze. Resisting the urge to drag Preston’s crib into her bedroom, she shut the door softly and went downstairs, where she found Draco sitting beside a roaring fire, reading the Evening Prophet.

“Anything new?” she asked, sitting near the hearth to warm herself.

“Crabbe’s dead,” he said tonelessly, as if he couldn’t believe it. “Father said he’d disobeyed the Dark Lord, but…” he voice cracked a bit.

She looked up at him and saw the fear etched on his face.

“Virginie,” he began.

She pulled herself up and sat next to him in the oversized armchair, looking into his worried grey eyes.

“I…er…I think…”

“Draco, just tell me,” she said, placing a hand on his left shoulder as if to steady him.

“I don’t think it’ll be long before we’ll need to go into hiding,” he said finally. His hand was shaking as he put down the Prophet.

“What about your parents?” she asked.

“Mum wants out,” he whispered, as if someone were eavesdropping. “I think Father does, too, but he’ll never admit it. I just…we need to figure everything out…but it’s coming, V. We can’t stay here. It’s not safe at all. We’re in danger. I haven’t succeeded at all in doing what he’s said. We need to get out of here fast. We haven’t got a secret-keeper for this house…he could find us in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t be surprised if Father was the one to do us in.”

She nodded, biting her lower lip. “Where shall we go?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking,” he answered. “And…well, we should take some people with us.”

“Who?”

“Hermione and Ron,” he said firmly. “They’re targets, V. Father told me…laughed about it. I can’t stay involved with this. Even if Father were to die, I’d still have to answer to….him.”

Virginie nodded, still thinking about where they were to go. A thought dawned on her. “Draco….what about my parents?”

“If we can persuade them, I want them to go with us,” he said. “We’re all Pureblood, of course, but Father and I have gotten you lot in trouble. Why did you get involved with me?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I’ve ruined your life.”

“Oh Draco, don’t,” she said quietly, wrapping her arms around him and stroking his hair. “You’ve not ruined my life…I’ve made my own decisions, thank you! I chose you. It’s not your fault at all. I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“Did you?” he asked, finally meeting her eyes. “Did you honestly?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I have promised I’ll always love you, and I meant it when I said it and I mean it when I tell you now that I love you and that you’ve not done anything to ruin my life. You’ve made my life better than I ever could have imagined.”

“I’m glad you still love me,” he said. “I have fucked things up for you.”

She made a hand gesture suggesting that she would have been in danger no matter what.

“If we are to go into hiding,” she began slowly, still piecing things together, “I want our secret-keeper living with us…”

He nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too. I think Hermione should be our secret-keeper.”

She nodded in agreement. “Father knows how to perform the complicated bit of magic it takes. Since we’ll all be living together, it shan’t be too difficult.”

An idea dawned on her. “Draco! I’ve got it! Mum and Dad have got a big country house in France—it would be perfect. We’d be safe there. They’ve got all sorts of enchantments that Dumbledore himself put on it before he died. They shan’t have lifted even though he’s gone…all sorts of Untraceable and Unplottable Charms, Muggle-Repelling charms—not what we’re looking for, of course—and we could still work for the French Ministry, you know—they’re way ahead of the Ministry here…when we went the other day they had Aurors at every turn, you can’t Apparate into the building at all, only Disapparate to go home, not to mention they don’t let you work past dark….Draco, we should. Dad can go back to working there, too…they’ve been aching to have him back.”

A light gleamed in his eyes, then he finally smiled, though it was small. “That is excellent, V. I…God you’re brilliant. Your parents will be here tomorrow morning, and we can talk about it,” he said, finally looking more relaxed. “Our house is very safe, love, but I don’t want to risk my father’s treachery. He’ll tell, you know he will.”

“I know, darling,” she said, nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck.

“So what’s this house like, then?” he asked, pulling her closer to him.

“Just lovely!” she breathed. “We used to go when we were kids, but none of the rest of our family knew about it—Mum and Dad wanted it to be secret; they always said they didn’t want any unwelcome visitors,” she laughed. “Now look what we’re doing with it…quite the same purpose, eh?

“But anyway,” she continued after first kissing Draco’s lips softly, “It’s quite large: four floors and four different wings…countless bedrooms, a kitchen the size of Paris. It’ll be quite easy for everyone to have their own wing—it’ll be quite like everyone having their own house.”

He gave a soft noise of approval and nestled his head further in her hair.

“It’ll be just like home, darling,” she whispered, softly massaging his side with her fingers, trying to help him relax. “After a long day at work, we’ll come home, relax….some nights we can let Guinevere put Preston to bed and have some Mummy/Daddy time…”

He gave a soft laugh and entwined his fingers with hers. “I do love Mummy/Daddy time,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. “How very far we are from the days at Hogwarts when we could simply retreat to my Suite to have a little rendezvous…”

She slowly raised herself on the chair and straddled him, kissing his lips very softly. “We’re all alone now, love,” she whispered, biting his lips.

He groaned and placed a hand on her upper thigh.

“You’re so uptight, Draco,” she fretted, kissing down his neck and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s not healthy for you, you know…”

She bit her way down his stomach, stopping only to lick the very fine trail of dark blond hair leading into his trousers, causing him to groan softly. She eased his pants and boxers down around his ankles, pushing the footstool closer to the chair so that she could kneel on it as she began kissing and biting his hard thighs while massaging his hardening cock with her hand. She began sucking his inner thigh at a particularly sensitive spot, and she heard his sharp intake of breath.

“Are you beginning to relax, darling?” she asked, running the tip of her tongue up and down his thick, hard shaft.

“Yes,” he gasped, grabbing a handful of her hair.

She took him in her mouth and let out her own sigh of pleasure—she loved pleasing him this way. She felt him release the breath that she hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and she risked a look at him. His head was leaned back against the chair, his eyes closed and mouth slightly open in pleasure. Satisfied, she removed him from her mouth and he gave a groan of protest. She began stroking him with her hand and kneeled lower, licking his balls delicately. He gave a load groan and pulled her hair back away from her face so that he could see her giving him the intense pleasure he was experiencing. Her pouty red lips wrapped themselves around his thick shaft once again, and he gave a shudder of pleasure as he looked down on his perfect blonde wife giving him the relaxation and pleasure he desperately needed.

He was panting heavily, and she could feel his cock throbbing as she thrust him in her mouth over and over, sucking hard and licking his engorged head hungrily. Just as she’d pushed him all the way to the back of her throat, he gave a great moan and she felt him erupt in her mouth. She willingly swallowed his seed, sitting up to look at him before licking her lips like a satisfied cat. He pulled her close and kissed her cheek, still panting.

“Did you enjoy your shot of Draco?” he asked her with an evil grin.

“It was scrumptious,” she replied.

II

“De Gaulle, get a move on it, the Russian ambassador will be here momentarily,” Hestia snapped as she walked by Virginie, who was very nervously applying lipstick. It was her first meeting with the Russian ambassador, and she wanted to make a good impression. She was, after all, representing France…which was the main reason she’d kept her maiden name to use at work; everyone, after all, knew she was married to Draco Malfoy, but the French Ministry seemed to think it looked better if a de Gaulle was representing France rather than a Malfoy.

Hestia, her boss, returned momentarily with Hermione by her side, levitating Virginie’s briefcase in midair. Hermione had also transferred to the French Ministry, still as a Rights Representative. Today they had to meet with a Russian ambassador who would also be with a Rights Representative—he and Hermione had business to attend to, and they needed ambassadors present.

They hastened to a third-floor conference room, where they were to meet the two representatives. Virginie did a last-minute check of her hair and makeup while Hermione examined her notes once more, making small last-minute notations on the margins, which had already been filled with her own revisions.

The door opened and Allegra, an Administrative Assistant on this floor, asked two men to enter. One was rather tall and lanky, built along the lines of Ron, and the other was medium height, muscular, and—her heart sank. It was Chris.

“Good day,” the lanky man said in heavily accented English. “I am Dmitri.”

“Bonjour and welcome to the French Ministry, sir,” Virginie said. “My name is Virginie de Gaulle, and I am a French ambassador here at the Ministry.”

They shook hands, and Chris stared stupidly as Hermione introduced herself—unnecessarily—to him. She refused to act embarrassed or anything of the sort and instead led them all to the waiting conference table. Virginie read the two lawyers the case and why they were here while Chris continued to gape stupidly. Needless to say, he didn’t listen to anything Hermione had to say and the Russians walked away feeling very stupid indeed, having lost their case. As Dmitri paid Hermione the Galleons that were owed to her client and herself, Chris stared at Virginie, mouth agape.

“Close your mouth, you look like you’re missing a chromosome,” she hissed out of the side of her mouth.

Dmitri excused himself on the pretence of seeking out an old colleague—escorted by two Aurors, he left—and Hermione turned to Chris.

“Well then,” she said brusquely. “Shall we three go have a drink?”

Virginie shot her the Look of Death, but Chris nodded vehemently.

“So,” he said, tucking in to a tart and a goblet of pumpkin juice, “you’re the last person I expected to see as the French ambassador.”

“Perhaps you ought to check your itinerary then,” Hermione snapped, sipping her Butterbeer gingerly.

“You look great,” he said. She noticed there was no wedding ring on his finger.

“Thanks,” she said simply.

“So are you married?” Hermione asked, as if reading Virginie’s mind.

“Me? No,” he said. She also noticed he had replaced a lot of his muscle with fat—he was rather chubby about the waist now.

“Hmmph,” Hermione snorted. “Well I’m married to Ron now, just to keep you up to speed.”

“Oh that’s great!” he said. “I always knew you would, though. That’s really great, Hermione.” This was getting awkward.

He turned to Virginie. “Would you like to go out?” he asked earnestly. “Tonight, perhaps? For old time’s sake. I’m staying over in Paris for a week, see. It’d be great to see you again.”

“You can see me right now,” she spat.

“You know what I meant,” he intoned, gesturing with his hands. “Maybe….pick up where we left off.”

Hermione had a look of disgust on her face and looked as if she wished she’d never mentioned the lunchtime drink.

“Well, Chris, funny thing,” she spat superciliously, “I don’t think my husband would like me to look at you, let alone go anywhere alone with you.”

“H—husband?”

“Yes, that’s right,” she spat, waving her finger at him to show him the enormous diamond on her finger.

“Blimey,” he said, looking at the ring. “Who you married to?”

She laughed and looked at Hermione, who was also suppressing a giggle.

“Who?” he insisted.

“Draco Malfoy,” she said, straightening herself up in her chair.

“Draco MALFOY?!” he exclaimed, and people turned to look.

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “Yes, Draco Malfoy.”

“Bet he doesn’t fuck you as good as I did.”

“Actually, he does, and better,” she responded coldly. “I don’t wish to talk about this. I am a mother.”

“WHAT?!” he roared.

She rose from the table with Hermione and ignored him as he chased after them. They stormed into their office and Chris, not realizing that only employees could cross the magical barrier the Aurors had put in effect, ran into what looked like thin air. People laughed and applauded appreciatively at the Russian ambassador sprawled on his back in the corridor.

Draco laughed in bed that night when she told him the story.

“He actually said, ‘Bet he doesn’t fuck you as good as I did?’” Draco called to her—she was in the bathroom brushing her hair and he was lying in bed.

“Yes!”

He laughed. “Oh God, how many things are wrong with that sentence? What poor grammar! What a giant, slimy-nosed git!”

“Oh I know,” Virginie agreed, climbing into bed beside him. “So crude and uncalled for.”

“He misses you,” Draco chided gently, poking her stomach and laying the package of Pepper Imps he’d been nibbling on the nightstand.

She rolled her eyes.

“Bet he hasn’t gotten anyone nearly as beautiful as you since he left.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said stiffly.

Draco leaned over and began kissing her. “Am I bigger than he is?” he asked.

“Draco!” she admonished, hitting him softly on his arm. “Is this really the time to ask me? When you’re on top of me and you’ve got my arms pinned down? What do you expect me to say?”

He laughed and leaned in to kiss her. “I just wondered.”

“You’re bigger and thicker…happy now?” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Hope you aren’t just saying that…”

“I’m not! He was probably seven inches, you’re about nine. And you get so much harder than he ever did.”

“Oh really?” he asked, putting all his weight on top of her and kissing her hard.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned in response.

He suddenly broke off from her and gave her a blazing look. “How many blokes have you been with?”

“What?”

“I just wondered. I just realised I’d never asked you that before, and I’m curious.”

“Draco, I thought we were going to have sex…” she whined, sitting up in bed.

“We can still have sex. I’m sure it’s not that many…not enough to turn me off.”

“Give me the specifics of what you want,” she said wearily.

“I want it broken down: blowjobs, eating you out, and straight sex.”

She sighed and glared at him. “I hope you know I’ll be asking you these same questions, darling.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She groaned and said, “I’ve given five blokes blowjobs including you, had sex with three men including you, and two men have eaten me out including you. Satisfied?”

“That’s it?” he asked. “I thought you’d have been getting around at Beauxbatons. I was spying on you at Hogwarts the whole time, mind, and knew you weren’t doing anything there...but blimey, I’m relieved.”

“You spied on me at Hogwarts?”

“I was hopelessly in love with you,” he said smoothly, giving her his signature burning look that melted her into the floor.

“I thought you just wanted to fuck me.”

“No, I was hopelessly in love with you first and foremost,” he said, leaning over to tickle her. “Fucking you was a bonus.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?” she asked, staring into his grey eyes.

“What was I supposed to say seventh year when I could finally approach you? ‘Virginie de Gaulle, I’m madly in love with you. Let’s date and walk hand-in-hand for the rest of our lives.’? I think not. ‘I couldn’t pay for a view like that’ is much more macho, much more debonair.”

“Oh, stupid machismo!” she exclaimed, glowering. “Also, I cannot believe you just used the word ‘debonair.’”

He pinched her cheek. “Here’s your count, darling, and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised: eleven girls have given me blowjobs including you, I’ve slept with two women including you, and I’ve gone down on one girl—you.”

“I’m the only person you’ve…you know…”

“Yes,” he replied unabashedly.

“But you’re so…good at it,” she said stupidly. “I mean…er…sorry…I just thought it would be more. I thought you’d say you’d slept with at least fifteen girls.”

“Fifteen? I had to save myself for you. God, I was hopelessly in love with you from the moment we met in fourth year.”

“You should have just let me know that instead of acting besotted with Pansy fucking Parkinson!” she snapped.

“You wouldn’t have wanted me anyway,” he said simply. “Besides, I needed some experience before getting to you, no matter how….er….repulsive.”

She smacked his arm again. “As if I was that experienced.”

“You have no idea how good you are,” he groaned, kissing her deeply. He was on top of her once more, stroking her hair as they talked eye-to-eye, their noses touching. It felt incredibly intimate to be talking so candidly to him at such close proximity.

“I can’t believe you were in love with me in fourth year!” she exclaimed again, still not comprehending. “You always glared at me when I was around, and you always had Pansy with you!”

“Like I was doing anything with Pansy as a fourth year!” he said. “Well, she gave me a blowjob once, but I didn’t touch her at all…”

“Hmm,” Virginie said. “Why did you like me so much?”

“You were different,” he said immediately. “You weren’t silly, and you were confident, intelligent, bloody gorgeous…you were all-around perfect.”

She blushed. “Not that perfect.” She paused. “Eleven girls have given you blowjobs? How do I compare? Now I’m the one with the inferiority complex!”

He laughed and kissed her. His weight felt comforting on top of her. “No one knows how to give a good blowjob like you, V. Most of them were in fourth and fifth year…girls that age don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”

She giggled, having felt reassured, and pressed her hands against his chest.

“Just out of curiosity,” he said, and she groaned at what horrid question she would have to answer next. “Who were those five boys you gave blowjobs to? I’m one, Chris is two for sure, but who were the other three?”

“I’m not answering you,” she said firmly. “I’m not, you’ll just get mad.”

“Don’t make me tickle you, de Gaulle,” he said smoothly, holding his fingers up as if to demonstrate his point.

“I don’t care, Malfoy,” she snapped. “You’ll hate me forever if I tell you.”

“Oh, bullshit,” he snapped. “As long as it wasn’t my father, for Christ’s sake, what do I care?”

“As a matter of fact…”

“What?!”

“Just kidding,” she grinned, sticking her tongue out.

“Who was it then?”

“Two of them were boys you never knew, from Beauxbatons…anddddd one you do know…”

“Someone at Hogwarts?” he asked.

She nodded.

“It can’t have been in sixth year—that’s when I was following you. It was in fourth year? Fourth year, during the Triwizard, you gave some bloke a blowjob?”

She nodded. “It was…my Yule Ball date.”

Draco pondered this, trying to remember who her date was. She hoped it wouldn’t come to him…

“Oh fuck me,” he said a moment later. “Potter?! Oh Christ, I need a lie down.” He didn’t move off her, though.

“You made me tell you!” she exclaimed. “I said you’d get mad!”

“Mad?” he asked, his face flushing. Then, without warning, he burst out laughing and rolled off her to lay on his back. “Oh God, Mrs. Malfoy gives The Chosen One a blowjob in fourth year! Classic! Total irony! Never saw that one coming!”

She pinched his arm and he looked over at her, laughter still dancing in his grey eyes. “How was it, then?”

“Gross,” she said truthfully, and he began roaring with laughter once more.

“What happened?” he asked between laughs.

“He couldn’t control himself and he came all over my favourite pair of dress robes!” she snapped, still livid about losing that particular pair.

Draco couldn’t stop laughing, and tears came to his eyes. “Oh fuck me, Virginie, that’s gold right there. Oh Christ, that’s rich.”

She turned over on her side to face away from him; she wasn’t really mad, but she wanted him to think she was. He was still giving small chortles of laughter ten minutes later, when he finally noticed her lying on her side, away from him.

“Baby…” he crooned, leaning over and kissing her shoulder.

He stopped and she heard a bag rustling, and a second later she was flipped onto her back. Draco kissed her hard on the mouth, slowly edging her negligee down off her shoulders before raising her hips and casting it to the floor.

He put something in his mouth and wrapped his mouth around her erect nipple, and she gave a gasp of pleasure as she felt a burning sensation unrelated to his lips—he’d put a Pepper Imp in his mouth and was kissing her with it, making her burn pleasurably, her desire for him lingering even after his mouth had left. He finally reached her pussy and put his tongue to her clit. She gave a shriek of pleasure and threw her head back into the pillows as he buried his face between her legs and ate her raw. She thrashed about on the bed as he rubbed her clit with his thumb and slid his tongue in and out of her tight slit, the Pepper Imps leaving her with a burning sensation that heightened her pleasure.

After rubbing his erection against her tight folds, he rolled her gently on her side and pressed his chest against her back, pushing into her from the side. He held one of her legs in the air as he thrust in and out of her, putting it down after a bit to grab a Pepper Imp and begin rubbing it against her clit as he thrust his cock balls-deep inside her tight little pussy.

She was screaming now—she’d lost control. She didn’t care if her mother or father heard, or the nanny, or Ron or Hermione. All she cared about was the burning sensation overcoming her entire body as Draco rode her harder and harder until her core exploded all over Draco. He flipped her over on her back after she’d come, and she realized he hadn’t come yet.

“Potter gave me a nice little idea,” he panted, pressing her breasts together and squeezing his throbbing cock between them. After a few minutes, his breathing became more ragged and he stopped and began stroking his cock as he watched her play with her nipples. A second later, he came all over her breasts and stomach, and Virginie wiped it off with her fingers and licked it. He rubbed the rest of it in with his dick.

“Potter may have ruined your dress robes, but he gave me that spectacular idea,” Draco drawled a second later, when he was holding her tightly, their stomachs touching. “But next time I’m going to bathe you in it.”