The Best Kind of Vengeance

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Amelia Bathurst scowled darkly at the letters as they fluttered overhead, and dropped neatly into the steadily growing pile accumulating on her desk, each one more furious than the next. The ministry, having recently made an unanimous decision to ban all "Layli and Madjun's heavenly heights " flying carpets from all British wizarding communities, had been in a state of minor chaos all morning. Bartemius Crouch, the current head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, had received numerous letters of complaint from Britains and Arabs alike, claiming that the ban was biased and unprecedented and "just because a bunch of bleeding kids go and get themselves squashed and covered in carpet burns don't mean my auntie Avery should have to burn her favorite throw rug." Naturally, Bartemius had felt that these were mere parchments unworthy of his time, and had shifted the unseemly paperwork to his assistant, and her current boss, Percy Ignatius Weasley. After all complaints made by important officials had been carefully selected by Percy himself, the rest of the lot had been dumped on her, so now on top of writing her report on Ollivander made wands vs. foreign ones and editing Mr. Percy Weasley's never ending official notes of disapproval, she was now commissioned to spend hours of her own time checking for curses, dealing with howlers and dissecting difficult translation spells for hundred and hundreds of these confounded letters. It was a game she knew all too well.

Needless to say, Amelia was reaching the end of her patience. She hated this bloody job. She hated spending hours of tedious overtime slaving over work so insufferably dull that it was hardly worth mentioning. When she wasn't rushing from office to office, delivering her boss's personal reprimands and becoming steadily more unpopular because of them, she was here, at her desk, answering to Percy Weasley's every whim. Her teeth gritted convulsively. The bloody git. Always treating her as an inferior being because she worked for him. Always exercising his control over her life in ways that made her blood boil. It was really the way he spoke to her that had her hackles rising. "Miss Bathurst, Mr. Crouch requires a dark brew, not a single grain of sugar, you should know that by now. There's a good girl" as though she was somehow a stupid child as opposed to an intelligent young woman of twenty one, only one year his junior. "Amelia, it is not fitting for a young lady to wear trousers in an office environment. Return home immediately and change into something more appropriate" or "Amelia, it seems that in my attempt to bend over I have unintentionally shoved my head so far up my own arse that I now seem to have reason to hand in my resignation to Mr. Crouch." Alright so perhaps that one wasn't based on an actual occurrence....yet.

She tried to ignore it. After all, she hardly intended to stay there for much longer, and who could blame her? Who would want to work under the wizarding world's biggest prat, slaving for a biased, corrupt government? In a few months time she would have saved enough money to start a business with her roommate Callista, something she had wanted since her days at Hogwarts. Then she would be gone. Gone forever. Away from the red haired git who constantly arose in her the strong desire to tear him apart, to teach him a lesson he'd never forget...and the nature of the lesson she had in mind, was admittedly, questionable at best.

Her...unwholesome...feelings had started at an office Christmas party last year. It was nothing, really. Work was closed, and a couple of close friends had come to rescue her from her daily purgatory. It was only a couple of drinks, a little music, some playful kisses beneath the conveniently placed mistletoe...then again, perhaps it had been more than a few drinks. Alright, she admitted it, she had been completely shitfaced and was unable to recall the majority of the night, that is, the entire night up until Percy Weasley had appeared directly behind her just as she'd planted a rather sloppy kiss on...someone, she couldn't exactly remember who. He had been absolutely livid, his horn rimmed glasses almost steaming with poorly concealed rage, and his cheeks burning, almost the same color as his hair. She'd been absolutely certain he'd sack her right there and then, but no. Instead he'd exploded. He'd called her an unreliable, drunken harlot, an absolute disgrace, unworthy to stand in the halls of the ministry, and several other names, some ridiculous, and some unseemly, all in front of her friends.....and with every word, her drunken stupor had been replaced with something else, something that was undoubtedly a darker manifestation of her rebellious nature. It wasn't a big deal! She'd gotten a bit carried away, but so what? No one was there but the janitors, and they had joined in! He was the one who insisted upon being an uptight git who was completely unwilling to allow anyone in his proximity to have any sort of fun! He was the one who was standing there, humiliating her unnecessarily, docking her pay instead of firing her and letting her go on with her life. He was the one who ordered her about unnecessarily, demanded that she complete workloads well outside the normal capacity for any human, even a witch, and how dare he call her incompetent? She worked her ass off in this building every day! She'd graduated in the top of her class, and had always miraculously managed to stay on top of things. What about that time the minister from Italy had arrived unexpectedly, insisting on visiting with Minister Fudge without a translator? Amelia had rushed over to Percy's office just in time to save his ass, for she, as he had conveniently forgotten, spoke several languages fluently. None of it seemed to matter much, though, did it? Nothing mattered but his fucking reputation, not even her life.

She'd stared at him quietly as he'd ranted about how the top priority of his small department was to do nothing, and he meant nothing, to disappoint his generous employer, Mr. Crouch. She'd studied him collectively as his blue eyes blazed with passion, his lips contorting into a rather luscious sneer. His movements were surprisingly intimidating, in spite of his tall and lanky build. Anger boiled deep inside of her as she watched him raging at her with all his might, unknowingly revealing a side of him that almost no one knew existed, a sort of wildness hidden deep beneath layers of pomp and self importance. It was surprising really. Deep down...Weasley was as darkly primitive as the rest of them. It was all too obvious, even in her inebriated state. She knew then what she wanted to gain from this miserable situation she was caught in. She wanted revenge. She wanted Percy Weasley. She wanted.....and that was when she'd left abruptly, running for the nearest bathroom where her friend Delilah would later arrive to hold her hair out of the way.

The next day it was as though nothing had happened. All was as it was, with the exception of an even colder reception than she'd been receiving previously.


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Percy Weasley frowned thoughtfully at the blank piece of parchment before him, tapping his quill contemplatively against his lips. Mere moments ago he'd overheard a rather heated conversation between his rather rigid employer and the minister of magic Cornelius Fudge himself. Dumbledore...causing trouble again. The old wizard never seemed to know when he'd overstepped his boundaries. Percy of course held his old headmaster with some small regard (how couldn't he with his impressive background history?) but he was hardly the appropriate role model for any young witch or wizard wishing to become an asset to the noble ministry. The man was too outspoken, too defiant towards his own government, and such behavior, in Percy's mind, was not something to be admired. Hearing the stress in Minister Fudge's voice, Weasley had taken it upon himself to write a personal letter, informing the Hogwarts headmaster of his concerns. But where to begin?

As he struggled to concoct the perfect opening sentence, his mind flickered mutinously to the lovely young secretary who now sat, undoubtedly flustered, at a desk just outside his office, and the way she'd barely managed to hold her tongue when he'd given her more paperwork. Obstinate little thing. He supposed he really should have fired her at the Christmas party a few months back. Her behavior was absolutely atrocious, certainly not ministry worthy. Drinking in the office? Kissing strange men, possibly from other departments? Outrageous! However she did get her work done, and fine work it was too, not to mention she was particularly easy on the eyes. Not unbelievably beautiful, mind you, but pleasant to look at. The sort of assistant a man like him, a man with ambition, should have. The kind that could potentially cause others to wish they were so fortunate. Wavy hair, a deep, bloody auburn in color, fair skin, a fine figure, and eyes....well, truth be told he couldn't seem to recall what color her eyes were....not that it was important of course. He jerked his head a bit, sharply berating himself for his mental digression. Hmm....Dumbledore. An undoubtedly tricky wizard to write to. He never failed to make Percy feel as though he were still a student. Perhaps....perhaps this letter could use a woman's touch....

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Amelia jumped so hard at the sound of Mr. Weasley's magically magnified voice, that several of the letters she'd been replying to fluttered to the floor.

"Miss Bathurst, would you come to my office please?"

Closing her eyes, she silently counted to ten to calm her nerves before rising steadily, smoothing down her skirt needlessly, and walking calmly to the door of Mr. Percy Weasley's office, pen and paper in hand.

The doors opened on their own at her approach, and her maddeningly prim boss glanced up at her with a sort of practiced expression on his face as though her appearance came as a pleasant surprise. "Ah. There you are Miss Bathurst." He never addressed her by her first name. "I was wondering where you were. Please strive to be here more quickly when I summon you. One can never expect to advance in life if one is not punctual."

She inhaled slowly, swallowing a particularly snippy retort. "Yes sir."

"Good. Now that's settled I need you to write down some..." He trailed off, his eyes having suddenly shifted from her face to her body. "Miss. Bathurst, what in Merlin's name are you wearing?!" He leaned forward, a scandalized look on his face as his eyes roved up and down.

Amelia stared at him, her brow furrowed slightly as she looked down at herself in utter disbelief. Today's outfitted consisted of a simple black sleeveless scoop neck top tucked into a slim retro charcoal gray pencil skirt and her favorite black peep toe pumps. All in all....she really didn't see the problem.

"Sir?"

"This....this....." He rose from his seat and came around the desk, gesturing at her top "THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE."

Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. "My shoulders, sir? My shoulders are a problem?"

He released a haggard breath of air, and looked away from her as though he'd just walked in on her naked, and indeed, thoughts of a similar nature were running though his mind, for today she looked absolutely....well...."fuckable" was the correct term, though he was hardly about to admit it to himself. Hoping to keep her from noticing the unseemly erection that was growing in his trousers, he removed his lenses and pretended to clean them. "Miss Bathurst, that top reveals far too much skin. That outfit is far too tight, and that skirt far too short. In this office, we dress with a certain amount of propriety! Where are your robes? I saw you wearing them this morning!"

" 'Too much skin?' " She lifted an eyebrow, caught somewhere between amusement and outrage. The top in question, though closely fitted to flatter her curves, did not show an abundant amount of cleavage, but only her arms. "You're serious? My god, what decade do you live in Weasley?" It slipped out before she could stop herself.

Percy's face flushed a bright cherry red. "I..." His eyes widened considerably "What is THAT?"

"What is what?"

"THAT.....that THING.....on your arm?"

Amelia winced slightly as she realized what he was referring to, then looked boldly into his shocked face. "It's a tattoo."

"Yes I can see that, what is it DOING there?"

She fought back a sardonic smile. She'd had the stylized mermaid done when she had graduated from Hogwarts, and quite frankly, it suited her. "Existing....as it has for years, having previously evaded your notice. I don't believe there was anything in ministry regulations about having them showing. Minister Fudge himself complimented me on it earlier when he left Mister Crouch's office this afternoon."

He stared at her in bewilderment, then removed his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose in aggravation, choosing to ignore the subject for the moment. He'd certainly be giving her an earful at a later date. "Miss Bathurst, I believe I asked you a question. Where are your robes?"

"At my desk. I took them off around noon when I became too hot." At this, Percy pressed his lips together and was very nearly successful at shutting out some particularly naughty imagery. "You've never been in the habit of opening windows."

He fought back an unprofessional scowl but decided that to explain his theory on how too much comfort cut down productivity would be beneath him. "Miss Bathurst, I insist that you retrieve it immediately to....cover yourself."

As soon as he said it, he felt the atmosphere in the room change dramatically, stiffening with a tension you could have cut with a knife. He looked into her eyes, and felt suddenly very uncomfortable, knowing that somewhere, he'd overstepped some line he hadn't seen. Amelia crossed her arms in front of her, unknowingly attracting his attention to her rather pert, well rounded breasts. He looked away immediately, his blush deepening ever so slightly.

"I most certainly will not."

His eyes flickered back to her, and he did his best to look down his nose imperiously as he'd seen Mister Crouch do countless times. What he most certainly would not do, was tolerate this woman's cheek in his own office.

"Miss Bathurst you go too far. I will not be spoken to in that way. Now, as your superior-"

"There is nothing wrong with the way I am dressed, and you, Mr. Weasley are in no way superior to me and have nothing to threaten me with. You have pushed me further than anyone has ever dared. Your words just now reveal that you are not only an arrogant arse, but are also intimidated by a woman's body in a way that is both sexist and pathetic. I am resigning from your office...right now. Good day to you sir. Don't bother to keep in touch."

His expression darkened. Now it was she who had crossed the line. The insult hit him hard, and he couldn't help but wince at the truth of it, though he doubted that she knew the reasons behind it. The truth was, he was intimidated by her, but only her. She got under his skin in a way no one ever had, not even his more unruly brothers. Beneath the professional exterior was a fierce young woman who wasn't afraid of being herself, and didn't care what others thought, which was something he could never even begin to emulate. Then there was that party....he'd watched her kiss that man with such playfulness, such open, carefree sexuality and passion. He'd never in his life been kissed like that, never lingered on a passing fancy. Hell, he'd never even indulged in a quick snog between classes, hence the quickness with which his relationship ended with a certain Penelope Clearwater. And then she'd turned around to look at him, her lips swollen and her face flushed with a drunken pleasure that spread beneath her scandalously low neckline. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen something so primitively beautiful, if such a time existed. Of course he should have fired her instantly....any one of his superiors would have, he was sure of it, but the idea refused to take root in his brain, and here she was now, telling him of her intentions to resign? After all his leniency with her behavior? Over his dead body!

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that. You must submit a resignation notice at least two weeks in advance."

"Oh really? That is a shame. I suppose this will be a first then for the ministry, won't it?"

He frowned darkly. The sarcasm in her tone was maddening. "Miss Basthurst, I must insist...."

"You will insist nothing." She interrupted casually, as though indulging in some private joke. "You've no control over me whatsoever. Exercise your false sense of superiority over some other witch, you will not succeed with me."

"You-"

With a fierce gleam in her eye, she whipped out her wand and pointed it at the door. It slammed shut with a bang that nearly made Percy jump out of his skin. She then pointed it at him, a small grin tugging at her lips as though she was about to eat him alive. He froze, frantically trying to remember where he'd put his wand, then realizing that it was in his vest pocket where it always was. Accidentally glancing down at himself must have given his intentions away for she immediately called him out on it.

"Don't even think about it." She reached out to him, and roughly tugged the front of his robe open, sliding her hand down his chest until she found the very object he was contemplating, and tossed it aside. He bit back a gasp. The warmth of her hand seeping through his shirt was a great deal more pleasurable than he would have liked. He stared at her, hating the sudden desire that tugged at his insides, and clearing his throat, he tried to narrow his gaze into a hardened glare to show her who the better person was.

"And what exactly is it you're going to do, Miss Bathurst? Are you going to torture me senseless over a little misunderstanding?" There was a certain edge to his voice that almost implied he liked the idea. A little dramatic torture and accusation might have been just what he needed to get the minister's attention.

"No." Her voice was low, a deep womanly sound that sent shivers down his spine. "I'm going to do what I should have done months ago." With a murmured spell and a flick of her wrist, Percy felt himself being thrust into a chair by an invisible force. Immediately he tried to make a lunge for the door, but was hindered by thick black cords that burst from the tip of her wand, binding his hands behind the back of the chair, and tying his ankles to the chair's legs. The attempt caused both him and the unfortunate piece of furniture to fall bodily to the floor with a loud thud. He tried to yell out for help, but she quickly cast a silencing charm on the door, and he knew that for the time being, all escape attempts were utterly pointless. He would have to try and talk his way out of this.

"Miss....Miss Bathurst.....please...."

She smiled, a dark smile that caused him to shiver. "You're about to plead with me, but in such a way as to make yourself feel particularly clever. You're going to tell me all the things the ministry will do to me when they find out what I've done, in a feeble attempt to convince me that you care for my well being."

He stared at her, feeling something like fear but rather more like apprehension stirring in his belly. "Yes. Yes, they'll put you away for this...."

"No." Amelia replied smoothly. "No, I don't believe they will, Mr. Weasley. Unless of course you tell them, which I rather doubt you will." She lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

"Miss Bathurst...whatever grudge you may hold against me, it's not worth going to Azkaban. If you let me go now, I promise I won't...."

She frowned and shook her head as though disappointed. "I hadn't thought you'd resort to that particular compromise so quickly." She snorted softly. "How sad."

Annoyance bubbled within him, but he remained silent as she stood over him, tilted the chair with him seated in it, onto it's legs, then proceeded to drag him backwards until he was sitting in the middle of the room. "Please....Miss Bathurst...."

"Oh don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." She chuckled softly, and the sound resonated through his body like a small shock of lightning, and he couldn't help but close his eyes. He couldn't believe he was reacting this way. It was unbelievable.

"Then....then what..."

Her smile was enigmatic as she reached up and unclipped her hair, shaking it free and allowing it to cascade in auburn waves to her pale shoulders. Even to a man like Percy Weasley, the motion was undoubtedly sensual. His eyes widened, as his pulse quickened, pumping blood to his already erect member. He cleared his throat, trying to think of something to say, something to keep her distracted, but the words wouldn't come out. Amelia stepped closer, and he turned his head slightly, as though trying to reject the warmth of her sudden closeness. He felt fingers running through his thick hair, mussing it up. The slightest of sighs escaped his lips, but it turned into a sharp hiss of pain as she yanked his head back, forcing him to look at her. He wanted desperately to say something, anything, to make her stop, before she noticed his rather embarrassing condition and laughed at him. "All I'm going to do...is bring you down a few notches." Nibbling teasingly on her nether lip, she gave him a particularly condescending look as she slid her body across his until she was straddling his lap, hovering over him just enough to deny him full contact.

"Oh my god...." Percy had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing as a sharp wave of lust overwhelmed him. He blinked hard. This could not be happening. This was a dream, a fantasy...oh gods, she was nibbling his ear, torturing him with hot little swipes of her tongue, placing slow wet kisses along the side of his neck, his adam's apple, his jaw line...Merlin, he had no idea her mouth would feel so....so....It felt so much better than it did in any of his fantasies. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying so hard to resist her administrations, but how could he, with the sensation of her petal soft lips caressing his skin, and those sharp little nips on his flesh that were steadily driving all sane thoughts of escape from his mind? She pulled back from him, only inches away, and her searing breath warmed his lips. Percy suddenly wanted her to kiss him like she'd kissed that man, wanted her to press her warm curvy little body against him, wanted her to....oh gods.....

"You know...." she murmured thoughtfully, giving his hair one last playful tug and removing his glasses "I think you want this, Mr. Weasely."

The use of his name snapped him suddenly to attention. "Miss....Miss Bathurst this is completely innappropriate. Please put your hair back the way it was. You must let me go at once, before...." He was more than a bit flustered. Highly embarrased, he tried to move away as much as his restraints would allow.

"Before what?" She purred.

"Before....before this gets out of hand." His voice was a hoarse whisper.

"You want me to stop?" She whispered, her lips so close....so close to his...her tongue swept lusciously across his mouth, barely entering before she pulled away yet again. Eyes closed, he struggled to fight against the throbbing in his painfully hard cock, against the need that threatened to possess him. This was not who he was....Percy Weasley was a man of order, of discipline, of ambition....not this, this....He opened his mouth to protest, but suddenly she swooped down upon him, her soft lips pressing firmly against his, her tongue sweeping into his mouth tantalizingly, plundering, exploring. She placed her hands on either side of his face as she masterfully claimed him with her kiss, nipping his lips roughly, tormenting him with such expertise that he'd never imagined, and she was obviously enjoying it. There was no possibility of protesting now, for suddenly he couldn't keep himself from kissing her back.

Amelia stopped to stare at him, surprised. She honestly hadn't expected him to respond to her so quickly....in fact, looking at him now, he was hardly the same person she'd been speaking to a moment ago. His eyes were hooded, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed with want. He was licking his lips and gazing at her with clouded blue eyes, silently begging for more, as though he didn't know what he'd do if she didn't allow him to taste her mouth a second time. Lips curled in a wicked smirk, she lowered herself fully onto his lap, and wriggled experimentally, feeling the hardened bulge beneath his trousers rubbing against her moist panties. A low husky groan tore itself from his throat, and his head lolled backwards, his brow furrowed with need. Unable to help herself, she leaned in to nibble gently on his exposed neck, loosening his tie as she did and tossing it aside. The sounds he made sent tiny shocks of arousal down her belly, pooling between her thighs. He wanted this. He wanted her. The thought made her smile even more. Wanting to torment him further, she captured his lips with hers in a swift kiss that lasted mere moments, and when she broke it, he growled softly in frustration.

"Do you like this?" She whispered. He looked at her strangely, then fought back a hiss as he watched her hand trail lazily beneath her skirt. She held his head back, not allowing him to fully watch what she was doing, and mentally he cursed her. "Tell me." His head was fuzzy. He couldn't answer, not when his mind was racing, fervently imagining what she was doing to herself. Gods, he could smell her arousal. "Hm? Well then...." She retracted her hand and caressed his lips briefly with her fingertips. He longed to suck them one by one into his mouth. "I suppose the best way to exact vengeance would be to leave you here for someone else to find."

His eyes widened, his mind clearing. She couldn't be serious. He searched her face. Oh gods, she was serious. She was thinking about it, right now.

"N...." He made a strange strangled sort of noise, his lingering pride keeping him from openly protesting.

"You're trying so hard, aren't you, Weasley..." She asked, a hard sort of amusement lacing her voice. "Not to want this?" Her fingers suddenly found the buttons on his trousers. She was toying with them playfully, grazing her nails gently across the rigid flesh that strained again the fabric. He groaned softly, biting his lip. "Hm? What do want, Percy? What do you really want?"

His eyes cleared a bit as he stared at her. Now that was the question of the century. There was no doubt in his mind about what he wanted overall. He wanted to succeed. He wanted to climb the political ladder. He wanted power, he wanted.....Her. He wanted her. Right now. He wanted to be used, wanted to be able to let it all go....he just didn't know how. Percy studied her carefully. Her expression was so cynical, so unguarded and free, and her eyes....they were hazel. He'd never noticed before. Without thinking, he closed his own eyes and tilted his head back slightly, pursing his lips so there would be no doubt as to what he wanted.

She obliged, kissing him again, ravenously, smoothing her hands down his chest, her fingers clumsily unbuttoning his shirt until they found his bare chest. Her touch was like fire, seeping into his very bloodstream. He could hear his heart beating violently, drumming in his ears. It was deafening. He kissed her fully this time, devouring her lips hungrily, delving his tongue into that hot sweetness. She moaned huskily, and his body tightened convulsively. Gods how he wished his arms were free so that he could run his hands up her thighs and squeeze that pert little bottom he'd tried so hard not to admire before, sink his fingers into her hair....Amelia slid from his lap, until she was kneeling before him, and with wide mischievous eyes, she gazed up at him beneath long lashes.

His breath hitched in his throat as her hands caressed his inner thighs and reached for his belt. She couldn't be serious....? In his office....? Oh sweet Circe, she was unbuttoning his fly, and suddenly he felt slightly cooler in his nether regions as his cock sprang free from it's confines. He watched her, his breathing heavy as he silently pleaded with her to touch him, anything, to ease his pain, but for a while she just studied him, an incredulous expression on her face.

"I never would have thought...." She murmured, mostly to herself. "I think I understand better why you're so full of yourself....."

He couldn't help but smile a bit as she unintentionally stoked his ego, but all thoughts fled his mind as he suddenly felt that hot wet tongue of hers swirling lascivously over the swollen pink head of his cock. His fists clenched as his hips bucked convulsively. "Oh please, Gods don't stop...please...." the words spilled from his lips without a second thought, and she paused for a moment, relishing in her control over him. Wrapping one soft hand around the base of his member, she licked him slowly, loving the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch, and paying special attention to his sensitive tip. His rigid flesh was warm and it pulsated deliciously against her tongue as she suckled him slowly, teasingly. The sounds he was making caused her to clench her legs together, and with a tiny moan, she slid her lips over his engorged manhood, taking as much of him as she could inside her mouth. He gasped, and stared up at the ceiling for a moment in utter bliss before watching her swallow him again and again, bobbing her head greedily on his cock with sinful swirls of her tongue. Her lips sucked at him firmly with expertise, and his entire body felt suddenly both very hot and very cold at the same time. The sight of her mouth wrapped around him, her dark lashes caressing her high cheekbones, was almost too much for him to handle, but her long hair was partially obstructing his vision of her. Oh how he wanted to sink his long fingers into those silky waves, and fuck her mouth as hard as he could. He began to feel the tremors of an approaching orgasm, and he willed her to continue, to swallow every drop of his cum....but, alas, she pulled away right before he could climax and smirked sexily up at him, biting her lip to keep from laughing. He gaped in horror at her cruelty. The vixen!

"Am.....Miss....m....." He tried painfully to form legible words, but they simply would not come.

"Hm?" She smiled coquettishly.

"Please! Please don't do this to me!"

"Do what?"

"This....I've never....like this....please." His head drooped in defeat.

"What is it? What do you want?" She asked softly.

His eyes shifted to lock with hers in a moment of searing intensity the likes of which she'd never have thought she'd experience with him. They were almost mad, hungry, and they seemed to devour every inch of her as though Percy was a man starved of all physical pleasure. Suddenly Amelia felt very glad that she'd had the forethought to tie him up, or else she feared he might have overwhelmed her, and what's worse...she might have liked it if he had.

"You." His lip curled in the slightest sneer.

It was only one syllable, but in that single, huskily uttered word, her body very nearly exploded with pleasure. She could feel her juices spilling across her inner thighs and it took every ounce of willpower she could muster not to leap up and untie him. No....that wasn't the way this was going to work. The goal was to teach him a lesson he'd never forget. Struggling to maintain a cool composure, she rose to her feet, and stood before him. "So then....you-"

"Oh gods I can smell you. Sweet Merlin...." He groaned as if in pain.

She closed her eyes for a moment, his words sending flurries of delight through her belly. Then, with as sexy a grin as she could summon in his direction, she walked delicately a few steps, and with her back facing him, she hooked her thumbs beneath her top, and pulled it slowly over her head. He didn't make a single sound, but she could feel his gaze penetrating her, raking across her exposed skin, but she wasn't about to show just how self conscious she felt.

Percy tried not to allow the growling noises that were rumbling in his chest to spill from his lips as he admired the sensual curves of her waist, and the gentle slope of her shoulders. By merlin, she was a curvy woman. When she turned to face him, he very nearly swallowed his own tongue at the sight of her full round breasts encased in a very chic, very naughty brassier of black lace. Her body was one that oozed a natural, healthy beauty that he found he could not tear his eyes from. Admittedly, her rounded hourglass figure had distracted him from his duties more often than not. Aggravation welled within him. Enough of this. He needed her now.

"Gods woman....if you don't bring that sweet little ass of yours over here this minute, I swear these bonds will not be able to hold me back..." It was as though someone else, someone older and darker, was speaking through him. He did not even recognize his own voice. Amelia's usually sharp green eyes glazed a bit, and he noticed the way her breath hitched in her throat, sensed the longing behind her actions. "Oh I see. You like this, don't you?" He chuckled sardonically. "This is about more than just vengeance."

She placed her hands on her hips and appraised him silently, allowing him more time to stare at her. "I've been fantasizing about this almost as long as I've been working here, Mr. Weasley."

His lips parted in a sigh as her words reached his ears. The tremors that swept through his body as he heard them could have made him come right there."Then untie me...please, Amelia....I promise you won't regret it..."

She started, then smiled almost warily at his sudden use of her first name. "Percy....do shut up." Her fingers reached for the zipper of her skirt, and with excruciating slowness, shimmied the close fitting garment down her legs. He watched her, licking his suddenly dry lips as she arched her back to unhook her bra, then held it in place with one arm as the straps fell down her shoulders. The erection that he'd been sporting for a good while was now becoming almost painful as she insisted on torturing him with her little games. Still covering her breasts, she walked over, and straddled him once again. There was now nothing between his aching cock and her incredibly heated center but a flimsy scrap of black lace, and he could actually feel her warm juices seeping through the fabric.

"Oh...please..."

"You haven't been very cooperative, Weasley." Her voice took on a subtle, more domineering tone of voice. "If we are going to play, we are going to do so by my rules. Is that understood?"

Percy swallowed and closed his eyes before nodding slowly. "It is."

"Then pleasure me."

He moaned. Yes. Anything she wanted....but if only he could...."I could be more....efficient...if I were unt-" His voice trailed into nothing as she deftly let the bra slip from her arms, and dropped it to the floor. He watched with wide eyes as her dusky pink nipples hardened into tight little peaks as they made contact with the cool air. Growling deeply, he leaned forward to capture one rosy tip between his lips, loving the sharp gasps that she tried so hard to hold back. Suckling roughly, he swirled his tongue hungrily over her sensitive flesh, wishing he could touch her breasts and belly, or cup that firm ass in his hands as he savored her. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, caressing his scalp. He could have purred. Her skin was so soft against his lips and his tongue. Percy hummed softly against her flesh, the gentle vibrations stimulating her sensitive nerve endings. Amelia's lips curled into something like a sneer, and she made a small noise of protest as he pulled away, but it quickly turned into a sensual moan of pleasure as he ravenously attacked her other breast with his mouth. As he was leaning forward in his chair, enjoying the taste of her skin, he made a very interesting discovery. One of his hands was becoming loose. Smiling to himself, he continued teasing her

Her blood was pounding in her nether regions, and she ached to take him inside of her, but she fought as hard as she could to hold back. This, however, was steadily turning into a losing battle. The sensation of his slightly roughened tongue swiping over her hardened nipples was almost maddening. Suddenly, she felt an arm encircle her waist. Her eyes widened slightly in alarm, and she stared down at him, but he ignored her and continued to place slow kisses up her chest, his tongue flicking lustfully at the hollow of her throat. Feeling the faintest tremors of panic, she glanced quickly around the room, then realized, with a sudden feeling of horror, that her wand lay with her clothes, still crumpled up at the far side of the office. Sensing her desire to run to her forsaken garments, Percy's smile widened, and he tightened his hold around her middle, bringing her body roughly against his own. Releasing her taught nipple, he looked up at her eyes, saw the apprehension in them, and liked it. Having released his left hand, his right now had room to wriggle free as well. Making certain she was watching, he reached up, and caressed her cheek, her hair, her shoulders.....then slowly and without hesitation, he dipped his fingers between her thighs, and very gently caressed her heated core through her panties, feeling the juices that saturated them. Amelia's body lurched in torment, and she squirmed deliciously, trying desperately to increase the friction of his caresses, but he held her wrists together with one hand, and however lanky Percy Weasley may have been, he was a good deal stronger than he appeared. Her small sounds of frustrated pleasure filled the small room, and he realized in the back of his mind that he had never been more aroused in his entire life, not even when he was a teenager. Nudging the lace of her panties aside, he caressed her incredibly slick folds, causing her noises to deepen in tone, then become sharper as he discovered the hardened nub of her clitoris. Unable to resist, he rubbed it gently with the pad of his thumb and watched with delight as she stopped wriggling, and developed a hazy drunken look in her eyes. He bit his lip. Gods she was so wet, and so fucking tight. He tried not to imagine how it would feel to....Her body began to shake ever so slightly, and he knew she was about to come....but at the last moment, he removed his fingers from her wet sheath, and grinned smugly into her pleading and outraged expression.

Amelia stared wildly down at him, desperately trying to think of a way to regain control of the situation. Suddenly, Percy tangled his long fingers into her hair, and directed her toward his waiting lips, ready to reassure her, without words, that she would have her release. It was a slow, almost sweet kiss that caused fireworks to explode behind her closed eyes, and when they finally pulled apart, it was with regret. He deftly caressed her swollen lips with his thumb.

"No more games, Amelia....I need you."

Highly flustered, she nodded and stood for a moment to remove her panties before returning to his lap. Licking her lips, she locked her gaze with his as she grasped the base of his penis, and slowly impaled herself onto him, her moist folds squeezing him snugly. They both groaned aloud as his cock was suddenly buried deep inside of her. Breathing heavily, they paused for a moment, both savoring the heavenly sensation of being joined so completely. Then, tossing her hair, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and steadily began to ride him, undulating her body in a steady rhythm. He groaned deeply, his fingers biting into her hips as he bucked his hips gently, thrusting to meet her, his cock squelching into her incredibly hot cunt. It was unreal, the pleasure that overwhelmed their bodies as they fucked each other, their lips exploring, tasting, devouring.

"Nhn....Oh gods Bathurst....you have no idea...." His breathing was so heavy as she rode him, hard, taking every inch of him like a pro. "....no idea....how long....I've wanted to fuck you....no idea..."

She hissed in pleasure at his words, and rolled her hips in a circular motion, earning her a sharp, lustful nip on her shoulder. "You feel fucking fantastic, Weasley...." Amelia gasped as she felt his fingers exploring her clitoris, rubbing it in a gentle circular motion, causing her to feel the first tingles of an approaching orgasm. Silently, she begged him not to stop a second time.

"Come for me, Amelia...." He murmured blissfully.

Eyes screwed shut, she kissed him hard, as her pleasure escalated, then finally released, breaking upon her like a wave of liquid ecstasy, sending violent tremors rippling through every inch of her body. Her toes curled in her high heeled shoes, and she moaned her relief against his soft lips, her vaginal walls clenching around him convulsively, dripping juices down the length of his cock. He growled, and kissed her back, thinking that if he could, he'd make it so she'd never be able to stop coming. His lips grazed her neck as her body relaxed, and he found himself discreetly reaching for his wand, and using it to untie his ankles. No longer caring about control, she allowed him to ease her from his lap, and rise to his feet. He sucked gently at her lower lip as he lowered her body to the floor.

Eyes hooded, she watched him, her desire no less diminished, as he shrugged off his robes and vest, then finally his shirt, exposing his lean, but well formed chest. Unable to resist, she smoothed her palms against his skin, raking her nails gently across his nipples. He grinned, a particularly roguish smirk that she'd never have believed him capable of before....this. Biting his lip, he coaxed her legs open, and eased himself into her once again. To her delight, he wasted no time, and immediately pounded into her, squelching through her juices again and again as she arched her back, deepening his fervent thrusts. Resting his forehead upon hers, he gasped and moaned, stroking into her at his feverish pace, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoing in the tiny room. Her nails dug into his biceps, and to his surprise, the tiny amount of pain caused sinful, fiery shivers down his spine. No longer holding back, she breathed his name lustfully, her eyes screwed shut as his cock slammed into her sensitive pussy, swearing like a sailor as his slick shaft rubbed against her clitoris with every stroke. Hunching his back, he hungrily kissed her neck as he began to feel his own orgasm building within him, like a bubble waiting to burst, and he knew by the way her body tensed that she was experiencing the same.

"Oh gods...." She wailed.

He watched her as her head fell back, exposing the white of her throat as he rode her through her second orgasm, feeling every tremor of her luscious body as she came. The feeling of her tight cunt squeezing him sent him over the edge. It was as though his very soul, his very essence was draining from him in one incredible moment of the most sublime ecstasy, only to trickle back into his body slowly as his semen spilled into her slick warmth. He collapsed on top of her, kissing her sweet lips fervently, with more passion than he'd ever felt in his life.

Breathing heavily, he rolled off of her and lay next to her on the severe carpet that had been a gift from his employer the previous year. He'd always hated it, but had never admitted it to himself. Their bodies were coated with perspiration, and for a good five minutes, they said nothing, smiling up at the ceiling in post coital bliss. Then, finally, Percy turned his head, and watched her chest rise and fall for a moment before turning onto his side, smoothing a stray tendril of hair from her forehead.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, and smiled drunkenly. However pompous and ridiculous, however thin and lanky, Percy Weasley was indeed, a handsome man. True, his face may never have graced the pages of Witches' Weekly, but she'd always found it to her liking. Licking her lips, she gave him a small wink, and earned in return, a raised eyebrow.

"You seem rather pleased with yourself." He chuckled softly.

"Oh...I am, Mr. Weasley."

"Don't be silly, you were calling me 'Percy' only a moment ago."

"Now you're being silly. I know perfectly well that to address you as such would be highly unprofessional and-"

He silenced her with a kiss, flicking his tongue briefly against her lips. She hummed with delight. "Not to mention you're terribly under dressed. I don't know how long I'll be able to tolerate such behavior."

"Hm. That reminds me. Might I ask you a question, sir?"

"As long as it's 'would you like to see my apartment.' "

"Was there really something wrong with my outfit, earlier?"

"Oh, you mean the one way over there? Not in the least. It's just that whenever I see a bare part of you, I fantasize about what I could do to that particular span of skin." He emphasized his point by planting small kisses on her shoulder, and caressing the mermaid tattoo on her upper arm. "Did this hurt?"

"Hm. Like a cat scratch. Nothing one can't tolerate for a few hours. I plan on opening a parlor somewhere with a friend of mine. Possibly Hogsmeade. Hence, my previous desire to resign."

Percy contemplated this for a moment. A few hours ago this might have confounded, or even outraged him, but not so now. Right now, he felt incredibly free and satisfyingly rebellious, and suddenly, the thought of shagging someone with an occupation in mind that would have completely shocked his mother felt absolutely delightful. He wondered if Fred and George felt this way all the time. "Did you design this one yourself?"

"Mhm."

"It's beautiful...Would you like to come back to my flat?"

"I thought I was supposed to ask that. I suppose, if you're feeling up to another go after work."

"No I mean now. We could take the rest of the day. It's not like either of us are doing anything important. Those letters I've been having you respond to are complete rubbish, and the time it'd take to finish would be better spent, I think, together."

She stared at him, shocked that he, Percy Weasley, would even think to suggest such a thing. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

"And I'd like to take you out to dinner as well, Amelia. Court you the proper way, before we..."

"Make like rabbits?" She added helpfully

He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. "Yes....that."

She smiled devilishly, and rose to her feet, feeling his eyes upon her naked body as she walked over to where her clothes were, ignoring his noises of protest as she slowly began putting them back on.

"I'll go with you....if you promise me a few things."

"Anything."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I didn't think you'd take to absolutes. However....I must ask that you-"

"Stop acting like a complete and utter prat?"

Amelia smiled. "Yes. Also....I think you should go and apologize to your mother for hurting her like you did."

Eyes widening, he sat up, and stared at her. "...What?"

"The poor woman's completely heartbroken. She stops by about once a week when you're out, and asks about you."

"Asks what sort of things?"

"Oh the usual motherly things. Making sure you're eating enough, not working too hard, saving a good part of your earnings, etc."

"And how would you know the answers to those things?"

"I don't." She gave him a very pointed look. "I tell her what she wants to hear. In fact, she asked me once if you'd liked the sweater she made you, and I said 'yes' but actually, I didn't even deliver it to you, knowing you'd just throw it away. It's still in my desk." Percy stared at her, feeling suddenly extremely guilty. Somehow hearing her talk about how she'd been covering for him made him feel increasingly worse about how he'd been treating his family as of late. "Secondly...If this is to continue, I think I must resign from the ministry very soon." He nodded solemnly. He'd expected as much. "Hopefully when you apologize to your mum, those brothers of yours will stop sending unpleasant things through my incoming mail, trying to reach you." She added as an afterthought.

Percy sighed, running his fingers through his hair, not entirely certain what to think. "If I do all this, will you go to dinner with me?"

"Only if you promise to ravish me the way you did just now." She replied huskily.

He smiled. "Miss Bathurst....I can think of no greater pleasure."