A Wizard's Debt

A/N: I’d better explain the “custard” thingy, hadn’t I? I needed a pet name that Narcissa had given Lucius; and my inspiration was that The Duke of Edinburgh calls his missus, HRH the Queen, ‘Cabbage’. I was wracking my brains as to what Narcissa might call Lucius – and Custard, at the time, seemed like the most amusing idea! You can use your own imaginations to fill in the back story of that pet name! lol!



Anyway, on with the show, and lemming’s ahead! (I always refer to lemons as lemmings – blame my Daddy for that, he’s always mixing up his words, and lemming stuck.) I’m mad, get used to it! Lol!



I’m also not mousing my words – a mistake from chapter 14 that I might just leave in for comedy value – though my beta might just confiscate the chocolate ice-cream if I do… nah, not worth it – I’ll go back and correct it later. 10 points to anyone who spots it!



Another 10 points for anyone who picks up on the equine references too! I thought it was a dead clever metaphor!



*How much sugar have I had today? I’m more bonkers than usual!* lol!



Anyway: WARNING, lemmings ahead!









Severus.



The clock on the mantelpiece struck two as I was finishing a brief verbal autobiography, Hermione had patiently listened to me, had asked a few questions and held my hand throughout. I am not accustomed to physical contact; it is something I have never had.



Hermione yawned, letting go of my hand to cover her mouth, I felt bereaved at the loss of her touch; barely a few hours and I miss her affection after a moment of its loss. Frightening, very frightening.



“Tired?” I asked. I seem alarmingly good at stating the obvious this evening.



“A little, I’ve had a rollercoaster of a day.” She said with a little smile as Hermes flew over to her and started to preen her curls, “Go use your beak for something else, why don’t you go hunt?” she said gently fussing over the owl.



“Hoot.” He chirped before flying into the fireplace (the fire barely lit, just glowing coals) and up through the chimney to the outside.



“Come to bed.” I said gently as she covered another yawn with her hand, the gems of the engagement ring glinting in the candlelight.



“I haven’t got anything to wear to bed.” She said, blushing a little.



“You can borrow one of my shirts, it will cover you. And I guess I had better find something to wear to bed, I usually sleep naked.” I said, realising that she probably doesn’t want to see me naked yet.



“Thank-you. I’ve never shared a bed with a man, so you being so accommodating is really nice. Thanks for being considerate.” She mumbled, the blush remaining.



“Chivalry is not dead, I just generally don’t bother being chivalrous.” I said, moving to the bedroom to find something suitable for her to wear; I came across a soft cotton, Slytherin green poet shirt. I had only worn it once – to appease Narcissa as she was the one to buy me it; apparently Lucius looked quite fetching in his, though Lucius would look fetching in a filthy potato sack. I didn’t like the shirt, it was too loose fitting and the lacing on the neck left me feeling exposed; not to mention that the elastic on the sleeves drove me mad.



“Oh Merlin! You’re marrying him!” yelled Draco, rushing through the floo into the lounge to hug Hermione and then myself; leaning against the sofa with one hand on his hip and a cheeky grin.



“We’ll you’re still alive.” I joked.



“And so camp, it’s funny.” Hermione supplied, giggling.



“Oh shut up.” He said with a wave of his hand before flouncing onto the sofa. Hermione bit her lip to not laugh at the stereotypical wrist flick that confirmed her previous statement.



“I’ve lost my other half? Is he here?” Oliver asked stepping through to find Draco sat on my sofa pouting at being referred to as camp. “What’s up? Why are you pouting?” the quidditch player asked, kissing said pout.



“They called me camp.” He huffed.



“You have your moments when you’re as camp as a row of pink tents, love.” Oliver said, avoiding a gentle stinging hex with lightning reflexes.



“In a few weeks they’re gonna get married!” he said, pulling Oliver down onto the sofa and almost squashing Hermione with him in the process.



“Right, care to start that sentence at the beginning, rather than in the middle? Who’s going to get married?” Oliver asked, pulling Draco onto his lap so Hermione could actually sit down on the sofa, rather than on the arm.



“They are!” Draco said with a smile.



“Lovely! Who’s they?!” Oliver asked.



“Them!” Draco replied, getting cross with Oliver not understanding him.



“Fabulous! Who’s them?” Oliver groaned, slightly exasperated, Draco hadn’t noticed.



“Us.” Hermione supplied, keeping her smile well hidden, only a little tug at the corners of her mouth showing her mirth.



“Don’t you start!” Oliver chuckled.



“Start what?” Draco asked, turning to look at Hermione.



“What your husband is trying to say, is that Hermione and I are going to wed.” I said, as much as this conversation was amusing, I wanted to go to bed.



“Why didn’t you just say so!” Oliver said.



“I did say so!” Draco pouted, only to have Oliver kiss away the pout.



“Go snog on your own sofa, gents, I want to go to bed.” Hermione yawned.



“Oooooh – going to bed with Sev… you’ll get no sleep – it’s been aaaaaaages for him.” Draco said, only to have me cover his mouth with my hand. Sometimes my Godson’s mouth bypassed his brain when he spoke.



“Pardon? He hasn’t had any sleep in ages?” she looked at me with concern, “Have you been testing that new sleeping potion on yourself and not getting the results you want! A potion has to be verified and approved by the Potion Master’s committee before it can go through human testing!”



“You and your big mouth.” I muttered in Draco’s ear as he started laughing behind my hand. Oliver hid his grin in Draco’s shoulder so not to offend Hermione.



“No – I am not stupid enough to test a potion on myself; Draco was being rude.” I supplied, gently whacking the blonde up the back of the head for not keeping his mouth shut.



“Pardon? I missed something, didn’t I?” she blushed.



“How can I put this?” Oliver said seriously, “Your fiancé hasn’t had sex in a while.”



“Eeep.” She squeaked.



“I’m not going to ravish you! Don’t get scared. You can wear a white dress later in the month.” I said, rubbing my temples in exasperation.



“Ok.” She said sheepishly, her face bright red.



“Right, we’ve caused enough trouble tonight – both with your parents and here.” Oliver said, prodding Draco’s ribs to get him to shift off his lap, “Lets go home, babe.” He said, standing and taking Draco’s hand before leading them through the floo.



It was silent for a minute before Hermione spoke; I was dreading what she was going to say.



“What did they do to Lucius and Narcissa?” she asked innocently.



“I don’t think they did anything to them, but more accurately did something in front of them.” I shook my head, handing her the shirt before closing the floo network to all but emergency calls until the morning. “You can change in the bathroom, if you’re not comfortable with changing in front of me.”



“Thanks.” She said, moving quickly to the bathroom and locking the door.



***



Oh how I hate wearing clothes to bed, I settled for a pair of boxers and a grey undershirt. It’s the most I’m going to compromise, I hate pyjamas. I scourgified my teeth while Hermione commandeered the bathroom, it stung a little but wasn’t particularly painful.



The candles in the lounge and bathroom dimmed before she came into the muted light of the bedroom; the soft fabric falling to mid-thigh, her hair tamed into a fierce braid hanging from one side.



“Erm…” she said, looking at her feet.



“There’s lots of room.” I said patting the place in the bed next to me.



She took a deep breath before gently moving over to the bed and creeping in, making sure to keep the shirt covering her as much as possible. She wriggled to get comfortable and jumped as I waved my wand to draw the drapes around the bed. A candle on each bedside table flickered, casting our shadows onto the linen.



“Calm down, I am not going to harm you.” I said, reaching for her hand beneath the covers.



“I know you wouldn’t harm me.” She whispered, blushing.



“I’m not going to ravish you either, as much as I’d like to celebrate or engagement like that; I can wait for the wedding night.” I said gently, bringing her hand to my lips for a soft kiss.



“WhatifIdon’twantyoutowait” she mumbled, the blush deepening in intensity before she looked away.



“I didn’t catch a word of that.” A deliberate lie, I did catch that, but wanted confirmation.



“Erm… can we, erm… do… erm?” she mumbled, hiding most of her face in the pillow in her embarrassment.



“No, not that – not yet; but there are other things.” I suggested, coaxing her face from the pillow to gently kiss her. Her lips parted slightly, barely allowing my tongue entrance, the tip of hers at the little opening, like a sentinel standing guard. I gently teased that tip, slowly convincing her to open a little more for me and sweeping my tongue against hers.



Her hand fumbled for mine, and I gripped it firmly in reassurance as I gradually deepened the kiss, flicking the underside of her tongue with mine to entice it to move from her own mouth into my own; slowly it crept across my lips, tentatively touching and retreating, while I continued to stroke the underside. She timidly explored the roof of my mouth behind my teeth as I continued with sweeping strokes beneath her tongue. Slowly I withdrew, encouraging her to do as I had done earlier, nervous flicks to the underneath of my tongue continued as I pressed mine behind her teeth; letting her experience what she had done to me.



We parted with a lingering touch of lips, both breathless, her wide-eyed and myself with a smirk of male pride at her flushed cheekbones and heaving chest.



“I didn’t know kisses could be like that…” she whispered, shuffling closer to me and pressing passion-reddened lips to mine, her eyes fluttering closed.



These next kisses started to reveal her previously suppressed fervent nature, the unsure flicks gradually became stronger and more certain of their reaction; we moaned against each other’s lips as the once gentle kisses became demanding and fierce; a duel of tongues rather than tender touches.



“Hold on a moment.” I said, having to adjust myself as the pressure built in my loins; she seemed content with kissing my neck while my lips were occupied with speech. I moaned in comfort as a little movement eased my foreskin back to where it should have been, rather than tugging painfully at the little V that joined it to me.



“What are you doing?” she asked, suddenly nervous again.



“Adjusting myself.” I said simply, hoping I wasn’t going to have to explain this.



“Oh.” She whispered, the candlelight flickering in her eyes as she gazed at me with what would have been a totally innocent expression, has her lips not been swollen and ruby-red. She hesitated a moment before sliding fingertips down my chest to the waistband of my underwear, trembling fingers ghosting over the cotton and my length.



“Mmmm.” I couldn’t help the moan, even her slight touches - tormenting as they were – increased my pleasure.



“Did that hurt?” she asked at my groan, pulling away sharply.



“No.” I choked out, trying to form words, “The opposite. You’re torturing me like this.” I sighed, taking her lips once more and taking her hand from me and into my own.



I carefully moved her onto her back, lying on my side next to her, unintentionally pressing into her hip as I continued the kiss, moving to muzzle into her neck, nipping gently at her pulse. She gasped and froze as I let go of her hand and placed my palm on her thigh lightly.



“Shhh. If you wish for me to stop, say so and I will – let me show you there is more to pleasure than kisses.” I whispered, moving my hand under her head to grasp her left hand on her far side; her head pillowed against my inner arm, on the mark that branded me once as evil.



“Alright.” She said back shakily, the passionate woman once again hidden behind apprehension.



Leaning over her, I deepened the kiss; purely plundering in drawing out her passion, barely giving her exploring tongue the opportunity to play and investigate the cavern of my mouth. She moaned softly beneath me, her little vocalisations moving from my ears to my throbbing length as she submitted to my touch and tasting.



Creeping the fabric up her body in tiny amounts, until my slightly clammy palm met with the heated flesh of her thigh, I moved the shirt no further – she had not been comfortable in undressing in front of me, and thus I did not pressure for more skin touching mine. The duvet covered her from the waist down, the green cotton hiding her breasts and stomach, but her nipples were hardened beneath the shirt, casting tiny shadows in the flickering light.



Slowly I eased my hand from her thigh to her most feminine place, feeling her still as I slowly touched her damp petals, she gasped and wriggled at the unfamiliar sensations I brought about, her eyes fluttering closed as I continued to distract with kisses; the double sensation enlightening while confusing.



Slowly I eased closer to her opening and the source of the wetness; halting as she once again locked her body in unease at the new friction as I slowly eased the digit in, ceasing my kisses to watch her face change as she grew accustomed to the pleasurable intrusion. Her doe-eyes widened and gazing into mine.



“Relax a little more; I don’t want this to hurt when it is meant to be pleasurable.” I encouraged, dropping my lips to her throat to nip at her pulse as I slowly began to shuttle my finger, rubbing over the spongey-point that made her gasp, and more moisture coat my fingers.



“Don’t hold back.” I encouraged, noting her biting back her expressions, “It is alright to make to noises, if you want to.” I whispered into her ear.



Moving my thumb to her clitoris, I gave butterfly touches that had her eyes flutter closed and her giving a startled gasp. “Too much!” she pleaded quietly, staring into my eyes.



“You said you trusted me earlier, trust me when I say this is not a bad thing; feel and let go.” I said quietly, squeezing her hand in comfort as she tried to understand the new sensation. I returned my thumb to that most sensitive place, circling one moment before pressing firmly the next; flicking it with a blunt fingernail before soothing a moment later with gentle touches.



“Oh.” She gasped, gripping my hand firmly and riding through the first shocks of pleasure. I continued the random tactile pattern, smiling as her hips began to gently move with the finger still pressed within her. Her breaths were short as her inner walls rippled around me.



I pressed simultaneously against both the inner nerve bundle and the external; watching her back arch as she let out a strangled cry, a little more wetness surrounding my still moving fingers as she continued to ripple around them. The squeezing becoming firmer until her final moan…



“…Severussssss…”