A Thief to Catch a Thief; a Death Eater to Catch a

Harmony to a Discord.



Three weeks.



Three weeks of Hermione ignoring him, unless it was for auror business. Their playful banter was gone, and all seriousness remained.



Twenty-one days of (practically) the silent treatment.



Three weeks of Jess trying to be friends to both people while trying to remain neutral in the conflict; other staff (except Harry and Jess) completely unaware of what had pissed the pair off.



Three weeks of tension and angst.



Since Hermione had left, there had been no pleasure for him. His hands were too large; the grip on his length was wrong; the rhythm wasn’t right… she had made him feel like a teenager again, first discovering the pleasures of sex, his reaction to her had been quick – to say the least.



The first time she had taken him into her blissfully talented mouth, he had recited the history of the killing curse in his head; he lasted precisely 1.3 seconds once she took him completely into her throat for the first time. He’d been dreadfully embarrassed, relations with Narcissa had lasted so much longer – far too long – though, she had never done that to him. Hermione had insisted he would get better… with practice. Lucius liked practicing.



Three weeks of remembering her upset at his actions as she left him.



Lucius had berated himself over his period of solitude, she had warned him in those very first moments, and he had ignored the warning. Belatedly he realised that a wonderful friend with wonderful benefits was preferable to this coldness he felt.



Three weeks of being alone.



***



Half past three on a Sunday morning was a skeleton shift, this week comprising of only Hermione, Lucius and Dave. Seven more aurors were on call, but were left to their beds until the morning and the meeting.



“I’m off for a swim, I’ve got the twitch.” Dave said, leaving the room.



The twitch was something that evidently only applied to the aurors; they became restless when nothing untoward happened, inner sixth-senses becoming hyperactive and making them restless. There were a few options to cure the twitch: heavy exercise, sex or unconsciousness. It was rumoured that Bump had been conceived during a bout of the twitch, where the normally vigilant Harry forgot about the contraceptive charm and ravaged his wife without mercy – not that she wanted any. Twitchy Harry was raw ecstasy in bed, and Mrs. Potter looked forward to days when Harry wasn’t being the perfect gentleman.



“What are you looking at me like that for?” Lucius said, noticing Hermione’s obviously preoccupied gaze as she contemplated him.



“I was thinking of asking you a favour.” She said, throwing down her quill.



“Hmm?” Lucius said, interested.



“Knock me out for five minutes? I’m getting too Twitchy.” She said, sinking down in her chair and gently banging her head on the back.



“No – I won’t harm you, but I will do this.” Lucius said, locking the door to her office with a flick of his hand. He calmly walked over to her, wheeling her chair away from her desk and into the wall.



“What?” she said, looking up at him from her slouched position on the chair.



“This.” Lucius answered, dropping to his knees and slowly slackening the laces of her boots enough so he could slip them off. Her bright pink socks followed the boots; turned inside out in his impatience to remove them.



Slowly, but firmly, Lucius reached under the white tunic to the waistband of those tight trousers; releasing the button and drawing down the zip with alarming speed.



“Tell me ‘no’ and I’ll walk away – tell me ‘yes’ and I’ll give you what you need… but for Merlin’s sake, tell me something!” he moaned, slowly slipping the fabric over her firm thighs, down her calves, over her ankles and dainty feet before flinging them in the direction of the discarded footwear.



Hermione dug her fingernails into his scalp and dragged his face to her core, locking her legs over his shoulders so he couldn’t escape. “You know what I need, Slave.” Hermione commanded, pulling his hair as he lapped at her entrance with firm tongue strokes.



“You’d look so much better naked, Slave. Or perhaps not… I can see you mostly naked in my mind’s eye; little silver clamps over those brown nipples, linked by a silver chain to each other; a black leather collar around your neck with the nipple chain attached to it… Mmm… another chain running from the nipple chain down to clip onto a matching black leather cock ring. Mmm… yes, Slave, you would look so much better chained.” Hermione said calmly, occasional moans punctuating her speech.



“Mistress…” he whimpered, moving back from her centre to look at her, unsure wheather she was just telling him of the chains and collar or promising him the attire.



“I did not give you permission to speak, Slave.” She chided, giving his hair a firm yank before pulling his lips back to where she wanted them. “Mmm… I think I’d have to adapt the outfit a little, my Slave seems a little rebellious… perhaps a chain passing from the little strip of tight leather around your hard cock, between those firm cheeks, back up to a ring on the collar at the back of your neck. Oh yes, that would be a good idea.” She continued to stroke his hair as he lapped at her moisture, “Oh yes, and that chain would be a perfect place to clip a little plug to, the vibrating one if you were a good boy, the cold one if you misbehaved.”



Lucius had initially been frightened at the prospect of having anything other than a well-greased finger entering his rear – his own finger. He had blanched when Hermione had shown him the toys she had bought for him. Lucius’s first thought was that they were too wide, too long and the various ridges around their circumference, in gradually wider steps, were too ridgey. He was pleasantly horrified to discover one vibrated, and as it was directly over his prostate at the time (Hermione having patiently introduced it into his body with the help of a lot of lubricant), it caused him to make one heck of a mess of the sheets. The other was something he wasn’t sure of, it was filled with liquid and went into the fridge before it was played with; it was slimmer than the other, but Merlin it was cold… but the cold didn’t diminish the pleasure, just put a different slant on it.



Hermione gently petted Lucius as he began to shudder at the memory; Lucius hadn’t realised sex began with the mind, and that all five senses were involved. He had never comprehended that a few choice words whispered in his ear would have him hard and begging for her; he had never realised that a simple blindfold would leave him panting in expectance. He had never contemplated that the taste of the sweat on her skin, caused by his actions as he drove into her would taste better than a Michelin Star banquet. Hermione taught him that the lightest of touches all over his body was just as erotic as wrapping a fist around his length, that a little pain heightened the pleasure; he hadn’t acknowledged that the scent of her perfume, shampoo and body wash would enter through his nose and take a direct route to his cock.



“Oh Merlin.” Hermione gasped, arching into his ministrations as he nipped carefully at every woman’s favourite bundle of nerves; she threw her head back, eyes closed, panting for breath as she rode through the pleasure.



“Hermione… please?” Luicius moaned, looking into her face as she slowly came down from her high.



“Did I give you permission to speak, Slave? Or to use my name?” she said firmly, looking down at his suppliant pose on the floor. “This is not over – there is one hour to go until we finish here, and then you will be rewarded for pleasing your mistress… but you were naughty and spoke out of turn more than once – and you will be punished for it.”



Lucius remained silent, though the prospect of his ‘punishment’ would enhance the reward, he shuddered, pale grey eyes seeking brown for a moment before he bowed his head.



“You will not touch yourself until I give you permission to do so, and you will act as if nothing is out of the ordinary when Dave returns to the office, is that clear? Speak.”



“Yes, Mistress.” He whimpered, counting the seconds until they could clock out and apperate to either of their homes.



















A/N: I don’t actually know if the cool toy actually exists – if it does can someone let me know?



Oh, I got Lucius the little chains outfit, oh and he looks so edible in it… I couldn’t get close enough to Snape to put his on for him, if any of you lades wants to have a go at getting him ‘dressed’, feel free to do so *wink*. Oh, and will somebody please give poor Draco and Harry some attention, they need mistresses too!