Denying the Obvious

Denying the Obvious

Chapter 3 : Calm before the storm

"He tricked you? Explain that."

"I had been working here as a waitress for almost a year when this rich old coot of a wizard reaaaally took a liking to me. Said I reminded him of his late wife when she was young. Anyway, Augusto tried to nudge me into his direction but I was less than enthused. One night he pulled me aside and told me that the old man had died, leaving me some piece of jewellery that had belonged to his wife. He needed me to sign a paper... I was such a fool!"

Draco could see she was still upset after all these years. No wonder, really.

"That's it?! That's how you gave him 15 years out of your life?"

Anne nodded, her eyes cast lovingly down on her galleons.

"He doesn't play fair, does he?" That was a statement rather than a question.

"No. For what it's worth, I don't think you'll need to be waiting for the witch for long."

"Why?" Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Augusto has let her be, but after your, say, interest in her he has undoubtedly doubled his efforts. After eleven years, I know how he operates. He is closing in on her."

"Hermione would never sign anything. She's not stupid!"

Anne raised her eyebrow.

"Mark my words or not, but you're making a big mistake if you underestimate Augusto. He knows this trade inside out. And he knows his witches."

= = =

The pink light burned brighter and started swirling around Hermione and the delivery sheet. She felt dizzy, as if something inside her was burning with a small, steady flame.

"Miss? Miss, are you alright?"

Hermione saw three delivery men and wasn't sure which one to reply to, as she whispered, "I'm...I'm alright."

"Are you sure? You don't look alright to me."

She barely heard him as the world turned on its axis and she fell down.

= = =

"Mr Gallo, come help! Your waitress, she fainted!"

Augusto smiled slightly while helping William to get an unconscious Hermione Granger on the backroom sofa.

"I asked for her signature, just like you told me to. Then there was this bright light and she was out. Is she going to be okay? What does this mean?"

"William, William it is really nothing. She is just a bit disoriented. Thank you for your help, and thank you for the delivery. I'll place a new order in a couple of weeks."

"You are sure she will be okay?"

"I'm positive. I've seen this reaction before, it is completely normal. You can go now."

"Fine. I need your signature for the delivery though."

William dug out the parchment from the pocket of his trousers and handed it to Augusto who was now grinning. Augusto signed and saw William out the backdoor.

The next 15 years of Hermione Granger's life belonged to him, under binding magical contract.

= = =

Where was Gallo? Draco was waiting impatiently at the counter, drumming it with his fingers. He wanted to cancel his order before Augusto had the chance to make Hermione sign. She was too smart to sign, he told himself, but nevertheless Anne's words had got him quite worried. He wanted to fuck the witch, but not through a middle man. And serving any willing wizard who was able to pay enough for the next one and a half decades was not a fate Draco wished upon anyone.

Well. Perhaps Weasley or late Mr Potter, he snarked.

"Good evening! Is everything satisfactory?"

Gallo had suddenly appeared behind the bar counter again.

"Yes, Mr Gallo. I wanted to discuss the matter of Miss Granger- -"

"Ah, not to worry, sir! I'm happy to tell you that Miss Granger is available for you tomorrow." Augusto beamed.

Tomorrow? Oh Merlin he did not get her to sign! No way in Hell!

"You got her to...I mean you got her schedule cleared? Excellent. Mr Gallo...I'm sure you understand if I tell you to reserve her for me. Only for me?"

"But of course. It won't be cheap, but I'm sure you're willing to spend good money on a good witch."

"For the thousands of galleons I'm willing to spend on her I want her to be left alone by everyone else except me. And since I'm willing to pay you rather generously, I'm sure you can release her from her waitressing duties for now."

"That can be arranged, yes."

"'Til tomorrow then. Goodbye."

Augusto waited until he was sure Draco Malfoy was gone before calling Hermione.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yea, sorry about that. I don't know what came over me. I'm ready to go back now."

"No, you should rest tonight, just to make sure."

"You don't need me downstairs?"

"We'll have to manage. Now scoot and have a good night's rest!" You will need it.

"Okay. Thanks Augusto."


Hermione walked to her little room, feeling secretly grateful for the chance to rest and lay down. She really had felt strangely nauseous, and still did. It was nice to get a chance to tuck in early, perhaps read a book until she felt sleepy. She hadn't had much time for reading since she started working at The Rooster, as it was mostly a night time job. And it was quite draining physically! Hermione would never ever again look down on someone doing something as "easy" as waitressing or cleaning or cooking. Not that Hermione was the kind of witch to look down on people, but having always been interested in intellectual pursuits, she hadn't had a good understanding of manual labour. And waitressing seemed so bloody easy.

It wasn't. Not only was it tiring, but it was surprisingly difficult as well. Many a pints had Hermione poured on some poor wizard while still learning her ropes. She was not very graceful and when serving drinks she was even clumsier. Customers with sticky, dirty paws did not help and only made her more nervous and self-conscious. She was better at it now, but sometimes she still wondered what made Augusto give her a chance at the job she so clearly did not excel at.

Hermione stripped off her work clothes and bra absentmindedly and took her nightshirt from under her pillow. She didn't bother looking in the mirror before pulling the shirt on, so she didn't notice a small, purplish pentagram on her skin, right between her breasts.

Magically owned by Augusto Gallo.

No customer could forget that, and neither would Hermione Granger.

Hermione settled against the pillows in her bed with a book and started reading the latest studies on magic particles. It was fascinating and it made her brow crease with theories and thrilling possibilities. When she finally looked at the time she was surprised to see the pointer of the clock pointing at "YOU SHOULD BE IN BED!" Technically she was of course, but that wasn't what the clock meant. Molly Weasley had given the clock to her when she had told the older woman she was moving out of the Burrow.

Hermione sighed. There went her good intentions of getting a decent night's sleep. Instead, she would now get even less sleep than normal. She put her book away tenderly and blew out the candles.

= = =

Draco walked into the master bedroom of the Malfoy Manor with his head still in turmoil. He divested himself of his clothes without bothering to turn on the lights and slid between the cool silky sheets. It only took a second for him to realize he wasn't alone, and another to realize the woman in his bed was naked.

"Pansy!" he exploded.

A low, seductive laugh came from the darkness beside him.

"Aww Draco! I'm lonely, you're lonely. What's the problem?"

"The ‘problem,' as you put it, is that I do not want you! How did you get in?"

"You know Nipsy still thinks we're intended," Pansy's voice was smiling.

Draco grimaced. He would have to make it clear to Nipsy, once and for all! The poor deluded house elf still believed Pansy would be the Lady of the manor some day. Over Draco's dead, mangled body!

Pansy's small, confident hand grabbed his shaft and started to pump in it expertly to make it hard. Pansy was a patient woman when it came to Draco Malfoy. She was going to be his wife sooner or later, and it didn't phase her one bit that it hadn't yet sunken in. In the meantime she would enjoy a good fuck from him when possible. She knew she just had to make him angry. That would be fine. Pansy did not mind it on the rough side.

"So..where were you this late? Some woman I should know about?" she asked slyly.

"It's none of your fucking business, Pansy! Get out of my bed and out of my life, RIGHT - NOW! "

"Draco, Draco.." Pansy cooed, scratching his nipple with her long, immaculately manicured fingernail. "I don't believe you really want me to leave."

Draco struggled with himself. He disliked Pansy violently and hated her carnivorous fingernails in general and the one flicking his nipple in particular but her hand on his cock was succeeding in making him hard. Seeing Granger after two whole years and being so close yet so far had made him frustrated and edgy. All of this tension and stress was building up inside of him and he heard Pansy sighing contentedly.

"Ohh, finally you're coming up to play!"

"Shut up!" Draco growled and yanked her on top of his hard body. She took hold of his cock and positioned it at her wet opening before slowly sitting down.

"You wanted it, you work for it." he stated coolly and let Pansy ride him. No rough play for Pansy tonight, she thought inwardly, a bit disappointed.

Pansy started bouncing on him hard and fast, squeezing his cock with her well trained inner muscles. She would force him to see bloody stars and remind him who he was screwing with!

"Let go, Draco, you know you want to..." she whispered in his ear, licking the orifice with her hot tongue.

"Make me." Draco sneered.

Pansy grinned deviously in the darkness and started working harder while creeping her hand on his backside.

"PANSY!"

"Grow up, Draco! This doesn't make you gay, and we're going to be married anyway. I'll own your arse."

Draco wanted to tell her she was delusional as well as stark raving mad, but then he felt Pansy's finger working him simultaneously with her wet, hot, tightly gripping cunt. His balls started to tighten and his body shudder.

"I hate you Pansy! I truly fucking hate you!" Draco yelled in the grips of his mind-numbing orgasm, holding Pansy's hips and thrusting upwards into her, spilling his seed.

"I know you think so, Draco." Pansy admitted regally as she triggered her own climax with her free hand, soon smirking and moaning in her pleasure.