Clandestine

Remus stripped down with a sigh. It was only two nights since the full moon, and his body ached all over with tense, tired muscles. It was a relief, then, to finally step across the cool marble floor and sink into the hot bath he’d run, and though his hands shook, he moved as smoothly as possible, so he wouldn’t splash.

The mermaid on the wall eyed him until he was immersed to the neck, frothy bubbles brushing his chin, but she said nothing. She had tired of his blushes, and later, his glares; she rarely spoke to him any more. He dipped his head back, allowed the water to comb through his tangled hair, and he closed his eyes and slid farther in, let the warm water lap at his face and then cover it.

Only when his lungs began to burn did he come back up, pushing his hair from his face and wiping the water from his eyes. He opened them to see a girl standing there, and he blushed, flustered, sitting up straight covering himself with his hands, though the bubbles were thick enough that it didn’t seem necessary.

She laughed, a pleasantly tinkling sound, if haughty, and stood with water lapping at her ankles, unashamed of her nudity. “Why, dear, you’re out well past curfew,” she said, voice a cool, liquid thing that made him want to sink lower under the bubbles.

He should have looked away, or said something, or anything, really, other than merely stared. He had only seen one other naked girl before, though, and she had been nothing near this lovely. This girl’s skin was smooth, perfectly white except for the faintest pink on high, delicate cheekbones and plump lips, and the darker pink of her nipples. Her hair was the palest gold he’d ever seen, pinned neatly away from her face and shoulders, though curls escaped here and there, and her eyes, gray-blue and cold, stared him down. She was slender, with only the slightest curves for breasts and hips, and she looked… she looked luminous, ethereal, but Remus knew her, had seen her at Prefect meetings, even if he couldn’t recall her name.

“Well, are you going to invite me in, or do you plan on staring all night?” she asked him.

Remus stammered, scrambling away from her a little. “That doesn’t seem terribly, er, proper. I… I’m almost through with my bath, if you’d like to wait until I get out…”

“Nonsense. You only just got here. I saw you come in,” she said, and it seemed she wasn’t willing to wait for his invitation any longer, so she stepped into the bath, sinking slowly in. Remus couldn’t take his eyes off her. She settled in with the bubbles just covering her breasts, leaving her sharp collarbone and elegant neck exposed.

Remus wasn’t sure he could handle being so close to her, but it would be terribly embarrassing to leave now, now that there was evidence of his fascination with her. “I could move to the other end of the tub, if you like. This is big enough that we’d both still have some privacy.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said, smiling at him in a way that was very nearly mischievous. “We’re closer than that, don’t you think? After all, you are a friend of the family.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again as the name came to him. Narcissa Black. Sirius had ranted and raved about her. Said she was more pleasant than the rest of his family, but only because she was “easier on the eyes,” as he put it – as if any of the Blacks had to worry about looks – and because she kept to herself in family gatherings. But she was most definitely a Slytherin and had apparently earned her place in the House.

“Oh, so now you know who I am? Funny, that; I hadn’t forgotten you even before this serendipitous encounter.” She smiled then, razor sharp, and as she came nearer, Remus shuddered, frozen in place. “Lucius told me about his Gryffindor boy-toy, his little half-blood slut, and I thought I would see what the fuss is about.”

Malfoy, of course. He had never mentioned the name of his fiancée to Remus, but the man was a braggart at best; Remus should have known that somebody would know about it. He just hadn’t expected it to be her.

He began to crawl backward on his hands, but she was already too close. She pushed him down, straddled his thighs with that same smile. He could have pushed her off easily, he was sure, but he was caught, staring wide-eyed at her beautiful, wicked face. One finger traced the side of his face, and he exhaled shakily.

“Strong jaw,” she murmured. “Fine bone structure, lovely eyes, firm lips. I suppose you’re handsome enough, in that perfectly boring sort of way.” She ran her hands, nails out like claws, down his chest then, and he arched against their slow descent. When they moved over his ribcage, she said, “Terribly skinny.” One hand wrapped slowly around his cock, and she smiled to find him hard already. “But you’re bigger than he is, here,” she said, then pressed closer to him, rubbing against him so he could feel the softness of her folds, so near to his cock.

He gave in, then. He reached up, one hand sliding along her smooth, smooth thigh, the other up her side to cup a small breast, his thumb rolling over and over her plump, pink nipple, until it grew tight. She pushed his hand down, over her stomach and farther, until he felt soft, wet curls. He turned his hand, pushed his fingers into her cunt. He had only done this once, clumsily, and so she guided his hand, pushed his thumb a little higher to rub in tiny circles, and she let out a little noise.

Then she let go of his cock, slowly guided his hand out of her, and she lifted up then lowered herself, slowly, slowly onto him, and it was strange with the water all around, and she was so much more careful than Malfoy ever was, and she began to move. Remus braced himself, one hand on the edge of tub and one on her hip, pushing slowly up against her when she moved down. She guided his hand again, showed him where and how to place it, to rub and tease, and soon, too soon, she made another soft, enthralling noise, and the soft, wet heat around him became a vice grip, squeezing tight, tight, tight around his cock. He gave a few more thrusts, gasping, until he came in a rush.

When it was over, when he was exhausted and sated, she slid off him, glowing from sweat and steam and water, cheeks only slightly more pink, and she grabbed his jaw, forced him to meet her eye. “Next time, you’re going to fuck me the way you do him. I want to know.”

Remus only nodded, his brain, at the moment, incapable of considering the implications of the words “next time.” But even then, sleepy and coming down from his orgasm, he understood the sense of foreboding in the words.