Arabian Knight

"I've got you now," he told her. She laughed, thinking how easy it was to fall under this spell. He nuzzled her ear and Hermione immediately went rigid. Thoughts of Ron were suddenly bombarding her. Her heart felt disloyal.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, nudging into the present.

"Um...nothing," she fibbed poorly. Her face registered her guilt and he backed away.

"I should've known," he said, swimming away.

"What?" she asked desperately.

"Nothing," he said.

He was going to change his mind about buying her, she thought. Desperation rose up to strangle her.

"Draco, please," she said, but he was already climbing out of the pool. He grabbed a towel and began drying himself roughly.

"You said it all before," he said coldly. "Yesterday you seemed so..."

He broke off with a frustrated grunt as he dressed. She hung by the edge of the pool, not wanting to get out while the towels were so far out of reach. Still she pleaded with him.

"Where are you going?" she asked anxiously. He turned toward her, his shirt still in his hand.

"What does it matter to you?"

"It matters," she said quite sincerely.

"Then prove it," he said simply.

"Prove it?" she stumbled over the phrase clumsily.

"Yeah," he said, fire burning in his otherwise cool eyes. "Why don't you get up out of that pool and tell me how much you want me to stay?"

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Afraid to be honest?" he asked.

"No," she replied hotly. Still, she couldn't bring herself to get out of that pool. She dropped her eyes to his feet and watched him turn and walk away. The door slammed shut with a resounding snap that made Hermione jump. She clung to the edge of the tile for a moment, then slowly hauled herself up, got a towel and began dressing. A guard found her momentarily and dragged her back upstairs to where Bernice and the other women were helping to ready other girls. She had to admit, their surveillance was obviously top-notch. Either that or Draco had ratted her out.

"There you are!" Bernice said, rushing to get hairpins from the closet. "I wondered where you were. Are you all right? You haven't done anything foolish, have you?"

Hermione was too miserable to say anything.

"Have they whipped you?" Bernice asked worriedly.

"Oh, no," Hermione hastened to tell her friend. "No, nothing like that."

"Thank goodness," Bernice said, her face showing genuine relief. "Well, here, you can help us. We're behind today and have twice as many girls to see to."

Hermione went to lay out more outfits, carefully matching up the tops and bottoms. She fetched more hairpins when necessary and whatever else was needed. Lunch came and went and before she knew it, the entire day had gone by. Hermione was almost too exhausted to get herself cleaned up, but Bernice prodded her along, assuring her that it would be well worth it. Together they went up to the main hall. Bernice easily found Marcus in the crowd and fluttered to meet him. Hermione strung along behind, hoping to find Draco. He was nowhere to be seen, and after a few intrusive moments, Bernice sent Hermione on her way. She checked in the kitchen and made several rounds of the room, but she couldn't find him. She wondered if he had gone home or worse, if he had found a more willing girl.

Her heartbeat quickened as she hurried to find Bernice and Marcus again. She found them entangled in a heated embrace.

"Ahem," she said softly, earning a dirty look from Bernice.

"Want to join in, luv?" Marcus said smoothly.

Spoken like a Malfoy, Hermione thought. "I was wondering if you'd seen Draco tonight?"

"Sorry," Marcus said. He went back to bruising Bernice's neck with his mouth.

"Erm, ahem," she said again, tapping his shoulder.

"What now?" he grumbled.

It was definitely going to be her last opportunity to ask him anything, so Hermione went for the million dollar question. "Draco...he didn't leave, did he? Didn't go home?"

"Not as far as I know," Marcus said. He waved his hand at her and Hermione walked away, not eager to witness a love fest between a Malfoy and her little French friend. She made another round of the room, careful not to stop or linger too long lest any of the men get fresh with her. As long as she looked purposeful, nobody bothered her. More importantly, nobody whipped her. With a defeated sigh, Hermione ducked into the kitchen to hide out. She didn't want to be sent back to her cell. Not after the work she'd done to sleep in a bed. She went back out and wandered toward the staircase, wondering if the guards would let her go upstairs unescorted. She highly doubted it, but decided it was worth a try. She sauntered over to the stairs, but the man with the gun blocked her path.

"May I go upstairs to my friend's room?" she asked, not expecting him to answer.

The man pointed to a sign that read, "No unescorted women."

"Oh," she sighed. Naturally, she thought irritably. She glanced back toward Marcus and Bernice. Perhaps she could latch onto them when they went upstairs. There was a thought. She wended her way slowly through the thick crowd and tried to get Bernice's attention. Bernice made a pointed effort to ignore her. At last Hermione forcibly jostled Bernice's elbow, dislodging her lips from Marcus's face.

"When you go upstairs with Marcus, may I go with you?" Hermione asked quietly.

"What? Certainly not!" Bernice snapped, her blue eyes flashing. "You said I could have him, and I will not share!"

"No, that's not what I meant," Hermione started.

Marcus snaked his arm around Bernice. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," Bernice said, giving Hermione a warning look. She disappeared up the stairs, leaving Hermione staring forlornly after her.

It was only after a very long night of wearing a path around the room that Hermione was allowed back to her cell with the other untouched women. It was late and she was tired. She lay down on the cold floor and resisted the temptation to weep.

"Oh, Ron," she whispered miserably to herself. How she wished she were with him right this minute. She shut her eyes, thinking very sadly that she had just one day left. One day to tip the scales and convince Draco to take her back to England with him. Tomorrow was Thursday, and on Friday her fate would be decided. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Thursday dawned with the sound of thunderous pounding. Hermione had nearly forgotten where she was. She had been engrossed in a rather appealing dream about Ron and a fireplace. She sluggishly opened her eyes and immediately shut them again, trying to avoid the present nightmare she was living. The door to her cell was opened and before she could even stand up, the short guy dragged her out by her arm, dropping her unceremoniously in the middle of the hallway. She got to her feet, her harem top dislodging slightly. She hastened to right it as she shuffled down the hallway with the other women. She was herded into the workroom and began taking towels out of the cabinet and placing the oils around the tub. She turned the tap, filling the bath with clear, hot water. The rising steam reminded her of yesterday's exchange with Draco and her cheeks pinked slightly. Bernice didn't show up that morning and Hermione could only imagine what she had done the night before. As miserable as she was personally, Hermione could at least be happy that Bernice was going to get out of here.

Hermione shook her head as she poured water over a redheaded girl's hair. She should have slept with Draco when she had the chance. But no, she had to go and have an attack of conscience. And where had that gotten her? At least Bernice was getting out of here. What good were her principles in this awful prison? Hermione swept up another gallon of water and poured it generously over the woman's curls. Seeing the water seeping through the thick strands of red hair reminded her more acutely of Ron. And then it hit her all at once.

She wanted Draco Malfoy. She evidently wanted him very badly. If she had been thinking solely of Ron and how desperately she wanted to be with him again, then she would have used Malfoy without such grave hesitation. Her desire for him was what brought her guilt into the equation and that guilt was definitely what was screwing her over. She cursed under her breath as she held up a towel for the redhaired woman. There was only one thing to do, Hermione realized. She would have to abandon everything she thought or knew and just fly on blind instinct. For some reason, when she kissed Draco, he effectively made the world melt away. She could easily make love to him and enjoy herself thoroughly, she imagined, if only her conscience didn't hit the brakes when things heated up.

How could she get rid of her conscience? Even just for one night. And without magic? It wasn't that she didn't want to have sex with Draco; it was more the fact that she very lustily wanted to fuck him. And that desire definitely scared her a little bit. However, the thought of being trapped her for another three months was far more frightening. Hermione could abandon her scruples for one night. She could get home, and God willing, Ron would never have to know the truth.

The evening was half-gone by the time Hermione had the chance to put on a fresh green harem outfit and comb her hair. She hoped she hadn't missed Draco. She put a coat of sparkling lip gloss on and checked her reflection in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" she whispered to herself. Drawing one last shaky breath, Hermione turned and went upstairs.

Her heart sank as she made her way around the room. She got all the way to the window seat and there was no sign of him anywhere. She was about ready to sit down and cry when she saw him looming on the staircase. Relief poured over her like warm water and she ran through the crowded room to him.

"Draco!" she called out from the bottom of the stairs where the guard barred her way. He looked down at her, his eyes unreadable from this distance. She wet her lips and held out her hand to him, willing him to come down to her. For a very long minute, Draco stood perfectly still. At last he came down to her, cursing himself as he did so. He took her hand and kissed it without thinking.

"You were right," she told him without preamble. "I do want you. And I'm ready to prove it."

He looked up at her with genuine surprise. The determined look on her face told him the truth well enough. Fascinated, he linked his arm with hers and let her lead him upstairs. They paused briefly outside his door and Hermione mentally said goodbye to her good girl self. Tonight was all about reckless cravings, and she intended to sate herself to the fullest extent.

Safely locked in his room again, far away from everything, Hermione walked up to Draco and threaded her fingers in his hair. His hands came up to rest lightly on her arms. She brought his head to hers and kissed him deeply, fiercely. Her fisted hands kept him exactly where she wanted him. Draco didn't mind. His tongue slithered around hers and his hands drifted down to her waist. Her mouth was hot with want; he could feel the yearning in her kisses. Her lips were soft and pliant under his, her tongue faithfully exploring his mouth. He bent closer, gathering her into his arms. Kissing wasn't going to be enough for either of them; not tonight.

They paused breathlessly, Hermione looking into his eyes and losing herself there easily.

"What do you want?" he whispered, stroking her cheek with his finger.

Her mouth replied without thought. "I want you to cut my panties off and fuck me."

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. He kissed her again, his hands running down her shoulders to her back. His fingers tugged at her top and it came away, freeing her breasts. She sighed and pressed against him. Her own nimble fingers found his tie and worked the knot, pulling the thin strip of silk so that it slid smoothly across his neck. She cast it aside as she started in on his shirt buttons. Bare-chested, they kissed each other again, mouths hot and teasing against one another's skin. Draco's lips trailed down her neck, between her breasts, along the creamy flesh of her abdomen, his tongue flicking out to taste her belly button. She suppressed some noise in her throat, whether it was a laugh or a sob she couldn't tell. He yanked her bottoms down and she stepped out of them, leaving her before him in a simple pair of panties.

Picking up the silver knife on the side table, he twisted her, pressing her back into his smooth chest, his arm crossed over her breasts as he pulled her down into his lap. Her bottom was pressed into his erection as he whispered unsteadily, "Be perfectly still."

With his arm holding her against him, Hermione obeyed. Her legs were parted, balanced carefully on his own. He kissed her neck just once before turning his attention to the silver instrument in his hand. Hermione gasped when the cold metal touched her inner thigh. Working carefully, Draco slipped the knife blade between her flesh and the damp cloth, cutting it open in one swift motion, then zig-zagging back up to the waist.

He set the knife aside and turned her into him, extracting the ruined panties and tossing them away. He kissed her fully, her ruby lips distracting him marvelously as he cradled her naked body against him. Her fingers were in his hair, caressing his neck, tickling his arms and his back. He ducked his head and found her nipples with his mouth, giving each their own special attention. She sighed and arched into him, her long, brown hair falling down her back and brushing his arm gently. She took his head in her hands and brought his lips to hers again, her breasts responding strongly to the effect of moisture and cool night air. She squashed them into him, causing him to suck in his breath unexpectedly.

"Think we can make it to the bed?" he asked raggedly. She nodded vigorously, holding tightly to him as he rose from the chair and crossed the room. He threw her on her the bed and stripped off his remaining clothes. His trousers fell away revealing the full beauty of his manhood. He crawled toward her on the bed and Hermione welcomed him.

"Open your legs for me," he commanded. She obeyed at once. Taking him in her arms, Hermione let her lips taste his, drinking the sweetness of his mouth. He was between her now, his arousal brushing adamantly at her crux. Her body responded immediately, her need to have him inside her outstripping every other feeling. She spread her legs wider, crossing her ankles behind his back and nudging him forcefully. He penetrated her with one perfect stroke and Hermione gasped, panting with something that felt like a mixture of desire and relief.

He bent his head and greedily devoured her mouth with his. Want and need became one as they moved together, both eager to find a common rhythm. She moved insistently, instinct guiding her hips as she ground against him. Draco groaned recklessly in her ear. She was driving him over the edge with her sweet motions, her delicate mouth, the throaty moans that sang his name and thundered in his head so that every other thought was drowned completely. His fingers dug evocatively into her flesh as she pressed closer still. Their tattered breathing had fallen in together and she was moaning more loudly now, the intimate sounds filling him, destroying him, driving him. Ecstasy was hers for the taking and he could hear it in the desperate hitch of her voice.

He plunged into her once more, deeply, her name on his lips as he broke apart and bliss shattered his world. They came together, clinging frantically to one another as the room danced and spun around them. He collapsed upon her, gasping for breath. Her fingers were still tangled in his hair as she whispered against him.

"Draco, Draco, Draco." She held him tightly as if she never wanted to let go. He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her lips and held her gently, rocking away slightly. She turned to him, hooking one slender leg over his as he held her in his arms. Her eyes were closed and gradually her breathing returned to a normal pace, slowed into a restful calm, and drifted into sleep without distraction.

Don't say it, he told himself. Don't. Don't say it. Everything's perfect just this way. But she was asleep and temptation got the better of him. Draco brushed the hair away from her face, tenderly kissed her lips and whispered in her ear, "I love you."

Hermione opened her eyes, the memories of last night falling freshly through her mind as she looked over at Draco. Sunlight illuminated his soft blond hair, his lips parted as he breathed evenly, still gracefully secluded in sleep. She smiled, tenderly stroking his cheek, very lightly so as not to wake him. She had done it. She had slept with him and today was Friday, the day of the auction. She was going back to England today, and it was all thanks to Draco Malfoy. Her heart flipped over inside her. She could hardly believe she was so close now to going home, getting back to her life, her family, her love.

She felt a soft pang when she looked at Draco again. He seemed so innocent like this. Part of her thought longingly of last night's passion. She ordered herself not to have regrets. Draco was rousing beside her now, his eyes coming open slowly followed by a lazy smile. "Hi," he said, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her forehead.

"Hi," she whispered back, relaxing in his embrace. She had already crossed the line with him, there was no point in holding back now. No, they could have the rest of today to be together. She settled into him, feeling the flutter of his kisses against her neck and opened herself to the possibilities of his morning affections.

They spent the day locked away in his room, making love and holding each other. Hermione relished the sensation of being in his arms, touching him, kissing him. A small part of her never wanted to leave. Last night she had wanted him, needed him, but this morning, she knew in her heart that she didn't love him. It was actually a relief to discover that Ron was still in her heart even after the reckless abandon she'd shown last night. She didn't feel nearly as guilty as she expected to. After all, Draco Malfoy used women up and tossed them aside. Feeling no attachment was part of the appeal.

Within these walls, they'd lived out their secret fantasy. It had lived up to and exceeded their expectations. They held tenuously to one another as the day slipped away and night stole over the palace. Guards came to collect Hermione and Draco gave her one last squeeze before letting her go.

She was brought downstairs to the main room and set in line with the other women. Someone pinned a symbol she assumed was a number to the waist of her pants, which she now wore sans underwear. That made her a little uneasy given that the room was full to capacity with leering men, all sitting aligned in seats as at any auction. She watched Draco slip into the room and take a seat near the back. He gave her a quick wink before settling into his chair. She was feeling more comfortable now that he was here. There were two men standing beside a long, marble table where a microphone had been set up. The first girl was forced up onto the table and ordered to turn slowly for the bidders to see.

Well, this is humiliating, Hermione thought, watching the poor girl standing on the tabletop like a stripper. The auctioneer was taking bids and the man beside him was translating for the benefit of the English-speaking guests. The line of women seemed infinitely long and creeped forth slowly as bids were won and women paraded forth one after the other. At last it was Hermione's turn at degradation. She was shoved ungraciously onto the table where the announcer let everyone know that there was already an opening honor bid of five thousand pounds. Hermione tried not to smile, knowing that this bid came from Draco and wondering if he knew that sleeping with her would be so expensive.

Another man jumped in offering more money, then another, followed by a third man who went as far as seven thousand pounds. Hermione narrowed her eyes on him; it was the man from whom Draco had rescued her. He had a greedy, malicious look in his eye that Hermione found unsettling. She shuddered to think what he might do with her if he had the opportunity. The three of them were still fighting it out, bidding over one another for her. Why wasn't Draco bidding? Hadn't Bernice said he'd have to buy her?

And then she remembered. Bernice had only said he was honor bound to bid on her, not to outbid anyone else. Hermione's stomach somersaulted dizzily and she thought for a moment she was going to be sick. She fought for her composure. The bidding had gotten steadily out of hand and was now approaching 20,000 pounds. She realized with a gulp how very much money that was. The greedy man was winning and the price seemed too high for the others. Tears pricked her eyelids, but she held them back.

A cool voice called out, "Let's settle this once and for all. Fifty thousand."

Hermione choked out an exhalation; she didn't realize she'd been holding her breath. Draco was standing up, holding his arrogant blond head high. His statement had certainly shut up the other bidders. His highness looked most pleased with the price she was fetching for him. Oh, what she'd like to do to him if she ever got ahold of a wand...

The bidding ended and Hermione was mercifully allowed down from the table. She ran to Draco's waiting arms and they headed straight for the exit. Draco already had his bag with him as they hurried toward the alcove.

"Wand," Draco told the attendant, handing him a small slip of paper. Draco turned to Hermione. "Do you have anything here you need to get before we go?"

She shook her head no as the wand-check boy reappeared. Draco took his wand and slipped his other arm around Hermione. They hustled out of the main doors, into the hot, dry desert. The sand beneath them burned Hermione's bare feet; Draco turned to her. She looped her arms about his neck.

"Hold on tight," he instructed. She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as she clung to him.

Apparating while holding someone wasn't the easiest thing he'd ever done, but Draco managed to at least get back to his flat in one piece. The suddenness of landing in his living room entirely too close to the armchair sent them tumbling over one another gracelessly. Draco groaned under her, rubbing his temple where he'd banged it on the sofa leg.

Hermione scrambled to her feet. "Are you all right?"

He nodded and she moved to help him up. "Never done that before."

"Why were you in such a hurry to get out of there?" she asked anxiously. "You didn't have the money? Fifty thousand pounds is a lot of money."

She was quite sober, but he laughed openly at her. "No. The money transferred automatically when the bid closed. Believe me, I would never have been allowed in there if they hadn't checked my bank account first. No, not that."

"Then what?"

"Well, I was a little afraid they'd cast a charm on you that I couldn't reverse," he admitted, rubbing his head a little more. "You know, something to keep you slave-minded."

"Oh," was all she could think to say. "Well, thank you."

"Yeah."

There was a long pause during which Hermione wondered what they were going to do now.

"Do you want me to get some ice for your head?"

"No, thanks."

"This is a lovely flat you've got here."

"Yeah."

"When did you move out of your parents' house?"

"What is this, Quiz Show?"

"Sorry." She was a bit affronted and waited curiously for a moment.

At last he sighed. "Oh, for pity's sake, just go."

"Go?" she repeated dumbly.

"Yes, go," he replied. "Back to ickle Ronnykins. You won't have to bash me over the head and steal my wand after all."

A smile played on his lips.

"Are you sure?" she sucked in a quick breath. "You paid an awful lot-"

"Don't remind me, please," he groaned, holding up his hand. He stood up and moved into the kitchen. "Here."

He brought out his owl and set it on the countertop. "Just send him a little note and tell him to pop round and pick you up. Better make it for the address on the corner. I don't want to get into some idiotic altercation in my living room."

She took the quill and quickly scrawled a message to Ron:

I'm fine. Wand's gone. Please come get me, love, Hermione.

She added the address and rolled up the parchment. Draco opened the window and let the owl fly out over the city.

"Shouldn't be too long," Draco said to her. He shrugged out of his robe and handed it to her. "Here. You don't want to be seen walking the streets of London wearing that, do you?"

Hermione glanced down at her harem outfit. She'd been wearing it so long it hardly seemed unusual anymore. She took the robe and put it on over her costume.

"Thanks," she said, suddenly shy around him again.

"You better get down there."

"Yes." She said it, but made no motion to go. "Draco?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you," she said. "I'll repay you for the money. I just-"

"No," he said. "Let me."

His voice was quiet as he looked at her.

"Is there anything that I can do for you?" she asked softly, taking his hand in hers.

He thought about it for a long moment, slowly rubbing his thumb against her soft cheek. Then he murmured, "Let me kiss you goodbye."

Hermione tilted her face up to him and fell into his arms one last time. The kiss was soft and lingering and very bittersweet. Hermione was surprised to find tears on her lashes when she pulled away.

"Goodbye, Draco," she whispered, giving him one last chaste kiss on the lips. "And thank you. Again."

Then she was gone, sprinting down the stairs to meet Ron, running away before he could change his mind and beg her to stay. Before she could think that she might do so. Ron appeared on the corner with a loud crack and yelled with joy when he saw her.

"Hermione! I've been worried sick!" She propelled herself into his waiting arms and let him hug her a moment. He moved to kiss her, but Hermione hung back, knowing the taste of Draco was still on her lips.

"Please," she said. "I just want to go home. I'll tell you everything after I've had a good long shower."

He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "Only if I can come too."

She smiled at him then and said, "Of course."

"I love you, Hermione," he said, his ears turning pink.

"I love you, too, Ron." She clasped her hands around him and hung on as they popped home to the Burrow.

From his window, Draco watched her disappear before his eyes. This week had been a dream, and like all of them, it had ended. He sat down in his chair and remained there for a very long time, wondering if there would ever be another day when that brown-eyed girl would come to him, begging him to cut off her panties.

If she didn't, he consoled himself, at least he had the memory. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes. He would definitely be dreaming about that for some time to come.