Hole

The Ormsby girl was hanging off his arm and Draco was beginning to think he would never get rid of her. A sudden thought struck him spreading a smirk slowly over his face. It was perfect in every way that he could see, much better than his original plan.



He smiled down at the girl gazing so adoringly at him. She was perhaps slightly tipsy, although possibly not as much so as her actions would suggest. "Miss Ormsby," he said caressingly, "As one of the hosts for the evening I am deeply regretful that I am unable to offer you the tribute due to your beauty and charm."



The girl quivered hopefully as he continued, "I would offer you a night\'s pleasure, with no further expectations, but I barely have twenty minutes..."



Any well-brought up young woman would know that the suggestion he had not-quite-made was the deepest of insults. A discreet night\'s pleasure - with no expectations upon either party - was quite within the bounds of society\'s unwritten rules, but a briefer coupling was the sort of service one exacted from a slave or a mistress - and even a mistress might take insult and leave under those conditions. The girl was old enough to be brought to this revel, however, and sober enough to make her own decisions. He stroked her hand, his fingers lingering sensuously before he withdrew them, seemingly directing his attention to the tableau of Zeus and Leda which was being enacted before them. Now she would either storm off or...



"Under the circumstances... " she began. Five minutes later they were slipping into the lovers\' glade, seemingly unnoticed although Draco knew that many eyes would have noted their exit. He had prepared a small bower with some unusual wards to prevent discovery and as soon as they entered it he stunned her and took the first polyjuice vial he had prepared. Stripping to his attire of leather straps, a sword and a wolf-skin cloak he wasted no time but strode swiftly into the maze, aiming directly for the prisoners destined for the werewolf pit that evening.



The prisoners were chained to stakes in a grassy area, still wearing the grimy clothes in which they had received the death sentence. There were four of them, but Draco\'s gaze fastened unerringly upon the one that he knew Potter would risk anything for, a tall, sullen young man, who might once have been redheaded but was now in his twenties merely a coppery brunet.



Draco\'s mouth quirked in amusement as he entered the area spouting nonsense about Roman oppression. Doing a dramatic double-take as he noticed the chained men he strode flamboyantly over to his prey, his tanned, muscular arms reaching out to haul the prisoner to his feet. The bored guards merely grinned as the strolling entertainer kissed the condemned man with harsh thoroughness, getting a couple of good gropes of his arse in the process. The prisoner squawked and struggled as a tongue was thrust down his throat, and a small bead with it. "Suck me off, you Roman tart!" the intruder roared, forcing the man to his knees. "Oh yeah! That\'s the way I fucking like it!" He was fucking the prisoner\'s mouth so deeply that the kneeling man was turning red with lack of oxygen. Draco pulled out for a few seconds, allowing the man to haul in one deep gasping breath, before plunging back in, his mouth spouting the crudest litany he could manage until he came down the fainting prisoner\'s throat.



"Death to the Roman Invaders!" he cried, waving his sword in token of victory over the man lying crumpled in chains at his feet. The guards cheered as he ran purposefully from the scene, disappearing into the shrubbery before circling back to the hidden bower.



Stripping and Evanescoing his costume, Draco lay down half-clad beside the Ormsby girl, swallowing the second vial of Polyjuice in order to return to his own form. He flipped her skirts up and wedged his softened cock into her cunt before reviving her as he slid out again.



"I am honoured, my dear," he said, courteously casting a cleaning charm before rearranging her skirts and helping her to her feet. She seemed a little dazed, but willing to believe that she had merely passed out from passion. Securing his own garments he led her out of the bower and parted from her at the amphitheatre.



* * *



The flaw in his plans that could well destroy them entirely was that he couldn\'t approach Potter. Lucius had only informed him of the ward to exclude sympathisers as Potter was being secured to the altar. After that Draco was very careful to avoid the entire area. He wasn\'t quite sure that his attitude was sympathetic, exactly, but he wasn\'t taking any chances.



Having gone to so much effort, the possibility of being thwarted at the last second was infuriating. He had, of course, fed Hole a bead just before allowing him out of bed, but that was nearly 20 hours ago. One of the charms Lucius used on his bedslaves automatically emptied their bowels of anything non-living at regular intervals, and the bead could well have been passed by now. The whole point of this absurdly risky undertaking was to preserve one man\'s life, and Draco couldn\'t get to him.