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Tall, white-haired, coldly elegant in black robes of the finest quality. One hand gripping a silver-handled cane which took on the character of a deadly weapon just by being in that hand. His eyes regarded the entire room with the dispassionate quality of an executioner as he stepped into the room, a man to whom killing was not painful, or even deliciously forbidden, but a routine activity like breathing.
That was the man who had, just that moment, stood outside the open door.
"Lucius, I…" began Broderick, his voice laden with uncertainty, and I couldn't blame him. I didn't know if it was because of Harry's young age, or simply his lack of ability to sense power, but his memories didn't do Lucius Malfoy justice.
It was my first time seeing the man in the flesh, and trust me, it was easy to see why someone so devilishly seductive and skilled as Narcissa Malfoy was afraid of openly rebelling against the man.
"...I think we should take this outside," Broderick finished.
Lucius Malfoy gave him a condescending look filled with surprise, disdain and pity at the same time. "I have matters most urgent to discuss. Outside would not be a proper venue for it."
I was sitting on a chair, as discussed, with my invisibility cloak thrown over us. Anastasia sat on my lap, naked, her head fallen back, resting on my left shoulder. My cock stood impaling her pussy, as she rhythmically bounced up and down softly upon it. My left hand was busy squeezing her left breast roughly, while my right hand caressed her wet form. She looked perfectly content to remain there, utterly nonchalant of her situation. Just a little sound and both of us would be discovered, and might even have to fight for our lives, and yet, nothing save her mounting pleasure seemed to have any worth in her eyes.
World Anchor – Anastasia Greengrass has gone up by 9%
Gained Affinities from World Anchor — Anastasia Greengrass
Alchemy 4%
On second thought, I really shouldn't be surprised. Her sexual preferences included degrading, humiliation and exhibitionism after all. Her anchorage had leapt by 23% after I had cuckolded her husband, and yet again, by 3%, when I had done it twice. Apparently doing it with Lucius Malfoy standing a few feet away from us counted as exhibitionism in her eyes, even if the man couldn't see us.
For a moment, I almost wanted to see if she'd make a sound, just to let the man hear her. Alas, that could put poor Broderick in a heap of trouble. Maybe even throw him off his newly-found cuckold fetish.
That was why I had cast Cave Inimicum around us for good measure. Back at the start of the summer when my Charms affinity was way down below 20%, even attempting to cast the spell was a fool's errand. But now, as it stood at a mind-boggling 94%, casting every single charm in existence was child's play, so long as it didn't require a specific mindset that was beyond me at this point. Truly, I was looking forward to becoming the Triwizard Champion and using the Champion status to devour knowledge and magnify my arsenal during the upcoming year.
Hogwarts wouldn't even know what hit it.
"I do not see your wife in here," Lucius remarked, eyeing the entire room with slight distaste. "Is there any reason why you refuse to entertain my presence in your tent, Broderick? Perhaps something to do with the Boy-Who-Lived?"
His eyes scanned the room again, his gaze falling dangerously close to me. For a moment, I feared he could sense us. Despite Amelia's claims, I had yet to engage in a serious spellfight with a Death Eater, and Lucius Malfoy was a spellslinger of his own league. One did not become the Left Hand of the Dark Lord by collecting chocolate-frog cards.
Broderick went white, and stood up. "Lucius, I — uh, I can —"
"I am not interested in your explanation," snapped Lucius coldly, his cool, murderous eyes regarding the man. "You have always been a greedy bastard, my friend, but even you should've known better than trying to tangle with a brat that spends so much time with that old coot."
Ah. False Alarm, I recognized. And from the looks of it, so did Broderick.
"I — I mean, Gideon thought it would be a good idea to—"
"Gideon Abbott would think licking Albus Dumbledore's greyish arse is a good idea if he got paid for it. I thought you had standards, Broderick Greengrass."
"I — The circumstances were different, Lucius," Broderick said, finding a little courage, "Someone ratted me to the DMLE, and Potter has been mailing Greengrass Exports for purchasing Phyllida since the start of the summer. It was a good deal."
"Was it?" Lucius hissed. "Potter has been nothing but trouble. I encountered the brat about two years earlier. Just as brazen and Gryffindorish as his parents. If not for him, the school would be well rid of both the filth and the mudblood-loving fool of a Headmaster. And then just before the start of summer, the brat survived having his soul sucked by dementors. Worse, Sirius Black was found dead next to him."
Anastasia let out a weird mix between a grunt and a whimper. Her expression went wide in alarm, before I pressed against her naked breasts, assuring her that all was still fine. She looked at me, her eyes searching into my gaze, demanding confirmation of Lucius's words. I gave her a quick nod, and her lips frowned, before she relaxed again.
What do you know? I might be heading towards yet another Lilim soon. Especially if I could play upon her exhibitionist tendencies right.
"Sirius Black?" asked Broderick. "But wasn't he the Dark Lord's — I mean, if he too failed to kill Potter then…."
"Codswallop!" snapped Lucius. He didn't seem to realise that his friend was just making him talk as a way to avoid suspicion. "Black didn't betray the Potters. He killed too many of us to be the Dark Lord's supposed Right-hand man," he let out a cold laugh. "No, I only ever managed to frame him and put him behind Azkaban because —"
He paused and sniffed. "What… What is that?"
…Shit! Had I fudged up the Cave Inimicum? It was supposed to block all five senses and create a layer of ordinariness and boring unremarkability that one felt in a job one didn't like. But if Lucius had sensed something….
My wand came swirling into my palm.
To Broderick's credit, he didn't go pale like before. "What's… what?"
"I just…." said Lucius, narrowing his eyes, before whipping his wand in my direction. Anastasia went stiff, but otherwise remained stable, unmoving. Even if Lucius did cast something offensive, Cave Inimicum should be able to block it, or at least most of it. The remainder I could match with my own wandless ability, or even better, cast something dark at Lucius. That my ace in the hole — the wand hilt I had purchased from Borgin wasn't with me the one time I needed it made me want to snarl, but Hestia needed it more than I did, if she had to complete her mission.
Still, prudence was necessary, but as much as I'd like it, I couldn't cast the first spell. Not without giving myself away.
"Homenum Revelio!" Lucius intoned.
The spell bypassed the Cave Inimicum and washed over us, and a small grin tore past my lips. One of the first things I had done after shifting to my apartment was inspect my Cloak — the Peverell Cloak of Invisibility. And as my powers progressed and my skill with magical sensing improved, I discovered that there was so much to the Cloak that I didn't know. It was old, like truly old, and yet, still as perfect as the day it was forged. Even as I was, I could feel its power echo in my mind, like a song forever being sung without anyone to hear it.
I didn't know what form of abstract magic would manifest if I brought the three relics together, or if the Master of Death was nothing but a rumour spread by arm-chair theorists with too much time at their hands, but I definitely wanted to figure it out. After all, even in Canon, Harry Potter didn't survive the killing curse the final time because he was the Master of Death, but because he had a horcrux insuring his very soul against a single killing curse.
Lucius grunted, and put his wand away, as the spell reported negatively. I could've snorted. According to the legend, Ignotus Peverell could hide away from Death's own gaze whilst under the cloak. What chance did Lucius's little revealing spell have?
On second thought, could Death's gaze be an allegory for the killing curse?
That bore thinking upon.
Broderick slowly sat down, no doubt wondering what had just happened. Still, the man had kept his cool when it mattered, so props to him. Maybe I was being too quick to dismiss him as a cuckolded fool.
"What was that?" asked Broderick, looking sick.
"I just thought… never mind," said Lucius, shaking his head. "Tell me, Broderick, why were you so insistent about not having this meeting in your tent?"
"I… It's because of the DMLE," blurted the man. "Somebody dumped a wad full of documents about Mystical Meanderies and Lomfay Enterprises. Bones stuck Gawain Robards on me, and you know he's as mad as it gets."
Lucius instantly went wary. "Are you being —"
"Watched?" asked Broderick. "I doubt it. Potter's help got me out of it, and not even Robards
"You were out of reach, and even Lady Malfoy couldn't tell me how long it was before you'd be back. And Potter was insistent, and Gideon…."
Lucius frowned. "Your friend Gideon has always been too slippery for my tastes. No doubt he had something to gain from this. Potter has been a pain in my arse right from the moment he stepped a foot into Diagon Alley for the first time. And ever since this summer, he's been… erratic, if the rumours are true."
I sat up straighter.
"...Erratic?" Broderick was having a tough time not to look in my direction. "How?"
"He left those muggles he was living with, and is living on his own, away from Dumbledore's shelter. He even took up the Potter Lord mantle."
"He's sixteen," said Broderick, playing the voice of reason. "Brats his age are rebellious. And the Potter mantle is his birthright."
"I know Potter's new status serves your agenda, Broderick, but for once, lift your head out of your arse and look," hissed Lucius. "Something about this new matter bugs me. That son of a mudblood taunted and tricked Draco into casting an unforgivable in the middle of Diagon Alley. It was a nightmare and a half."
In my defence, that was a little biassed. Draco was an arrogant ferret with absolutely no control over his emotions. Despite my role in the altercation, I had done nothing except provoke him a little. I had certainly not compelled him to cast the cruciatus on me, but I suppose silly things like the truth didn't factor for Lucius Malfoy and his stupid son.
"I… I heard about it," said Broderick, nodding. "I'm told Lady Malfoy taught him better than to tangle with Malfoys. Heard he rescinded the case and everything."
"Everyone knows better than to tangle with that demoness that's my wife," muttered Lucius, but my enhanced hearing gave him away. "Merula informed me that Potter agreed to rescind his statements in exchange for property, gold and a public apology, and I quote, because he shares blood with Draco. I know how persuasive my wife can be, but this is Harry Potter! Gold? Property? He's too much of a Gryffindor to fall for that. And that's ignoring the Potter fortune."
"You think there's something more happening under the table?"
Lucius scowled. "I do not know. Even Narcissa's behaviour has been quite erratic recently."
"You — you cannot possibly think that she and Potter—"
"Pfft!" Lucius sneered. "Don't be ridiculous! Potter's a little brat. And the Lady Malfoy knows better than to entertain anything below her station."
I stifled a laugh, conflicted over Broderick's constipated expression over said 'brat' fucking his wife in front of them, and Lucius's cluelessness about Narcissa's infidelities.
"No," Lucius went on. "What I'm concerned about is if Black told Potter something. Especially if Potter came into his fortune this summer. The brat is actually descended from Dorea Black, sister of Arcturus, the previous Lord Black."
I froze. Narcissa had promised to keep Lucius in the dark about that little trivia. But if Lucius was doubting Narcissa herself, chances were he had done some investigation in the background.
"Dorea Black…." muttered Broderick. "That would make him her —"
"Great-grandson," said Lucius absently. "If I didn't know better, I'd have assumed Potter was trying to get rid of my son by getting him imprisoned."
"He's a Gryffindor," Broderick said supportively. "Not a Slytherin. Maybe that's why Lady Malfoy was able to cow him so easily. She saw right through him."
Lucius eyed him. "Tell me, Broderick, just how far do you see yourself fraternising with Potter? If we can play this right, it can earn you… shall we say, certain benefits in the long run."
I froze. Broderick Greengrass was a greedy son of a bitch, but he hadn't quite felt like Death Eater material to me. Manipulating the heir of an old family into marrying his daughter and stealing his fortune was one thing, but wearing masks and robes and causing large-scale genocide in the name of pureblood bigotry?
Was I wrong?
The way Anastasia stiffened against me, she was also of a similar mindset. I doubted her love for my cock would translate to taking up wands against her husband. At best, I'd probably have to stun her out of mercy, before fighting two-on-one against them. I could even use Anastasia as a hostage to get out of it, since apparition and portkey were banned within the entire grounds unless registered via the Ministry. Perhaps if I used some of my more dangerous perks….
Either way, I ran through a worst-case scenario in my mind and made assumptions on what it could mean as fast as I could.
"This is hardly the appropriate venue to discuss something like that," said Broderick, doing his best not to look in our direction. "Have you looked at the time, Lucius? My wife should be returning any moment. Perhaps we can discuss this later… at your manor?"
"Broderick —"
"Lucius," said Broderick in an even tone, his impatience getting the better out of him. "I have only just gotten somewhere with Potter with a business agreement, and looking forward to more. And the DMLE have let me be simply because Potter's backing our agreement. Anything happens to Potter now, and both Albus Dumbledore and the DMLE will rain down on my arse. Whatever it is you're talking about, I can't be seen associating with it right now."
Lucius Malfoy held his gaze with Broderick for several long moments, and I hoped that either Lucius was no Legilimens, or Broderick had enough sense to not look the elder Malfoy in the eye for such extended periods. Lucius looked like he wanted to determine what would be the correct thing to say in return. Finally, he made up his mind and exhaled, turned around, but not before saying his last bit.
"You are a friend, Broderick," said Lucius slowly, contemplatively. "And more importantly, you're a competent business ally. So consider my words when I tell you, portkey yourself and your family out right after the finals. And make sure that a Ministry official or two sees you leaving. See you at the Top Box."
And with that cryptic statement, he left.
Neither of us moved from our places until I sensed Lucius cross the wards outside the tent, before I threw the cloak off, Anastasia slowly pulling herself off, leaving her juices dangling on my cock and dripping on my thighs. Much to my surprise, she didn't get off me, and instead chose to push back down instead, moaning loudly as she melted over my chest and shoulders in carnal pleasure.
Even without a word, she had made her point. Regardless of whatever followed, she was still too much attached to my cock to let it go.
"Well?" I asked, smirking at the glances Broderick was sending his wife mewling in pleasure as she fucked herself on my dick. "It's an interesting turn of circumstances, Lord Greengrass."
"Uh, no, nothing like that," said the man with a nervous laugh. "Look, you've got to trust me with this, alright? Obviously I couldn't just deny Lucius outright. He's my business partner and… and… look, you've just gotta let me take care of this, alright? You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Trust me, Potter, I have your best interests at heart."
Of course.
"I trust you," I lied easily. 'You don't exactly look like Death-Eater material to me either. If you did, Professor Dumbledore would have probably informed me about it."
"Dumbledore —"
"You can't tell me that you expected Albus Dumbledore to let the Boy-Who-Lived venture out on his own, did you? After all the years he spent training me in secret…."
Broderick stared at me.
"I mean, come on, the basilisk episode should've been evidence enough."
More staring.
I was having a hard time not laughing at his expression. He reminded me very much like a cornered animal that wasn't sure if attacking or attempting to escape was the right way to go about. And if that wasn't tough enough, his wife raised her hips and sank down yet again on my shaft, eliciting a loud, perverse moan.
"Is it… is it true that you are also descended from the Blacks?"
Inwardly grimacing, I nodded. Narcissa had monumentally failed in keeping that little bit secret from Lucius, but she wasn't infallible, I supposed. But she had come clean with me so far, and between her and Aunt Warburga, the process for my ascension to Lord Black was already set. I only needed a few key ingredients, and the death of Lucius Malfoy would serve as an excellent addition to that.
"I am."
Just by the way his eyes were darting from Anastasia to my direction as if examining the situation, it wasn't difficult to determine what he was thinking. Broderick believed he already had me by the balls by dangling sex with his hot wife, and I was already saving his arse from the DMLE. He was already angling for a potential marriage between me and his eldest, inevitably handing him the Potter fortune, and if he played his cards well, then possibly even the Black fortune.
After all, if Draco Malfoy became Lord Black, Broderick would forever stay under Lucius's thumb. But if I became Lord Black, and Daphne, the Lady, then it would allow him a lot better chances at grabbing it all.
And if Voldemort truly returned, well then… tales of my prowess were clearly overblown, and would not make a lick of difference when the Dark Lord came for me, a battle I wouldn't have a hope of winning.
So, it would be a simple matter for Broderick to pretend to be an ally to me as I married his daughter and guaranteed him the Potter, and in the best case scenario, the Black fortune; either through Daphne or Astoria. Whether Malfoy became Lord Black, or the Dark Lord won, in either case, Broderick would win.
Anastasia and I shared a single glance at each other, and a lone word was exchanged between us.
Amateur.
"I suppose our little tryst is over," I said, as a reticent Anastasia pulled herself off my cock, but not without bending down and giving my cock a long-drawn lick from the tip down to the balls, before smacking her lips. I quickly cast a freshening charm upon myself, and summoned my clothes.
"You — uh—"
"Don't worry, Broderick," I said. "We still have the finals to attend. I believe we shall meet at the Top Box soon. And remember, do portkey away right after the finals. Who knows what might happen afterwards."
I licked my lips maliciously.
I was right to come here. Just like in Canon, something big was about to happen. Voldemort had mentioned something about summoning the faithful to their Master's call, and if Lucius was planning something that made him warn Greengrass to pop out, shit would definitely hit the fan.
"What are you going to do about it?" he asked slowly.
"Me?" I asked, shrugging. "Who knows? Half the things I do are simply because I can. My friend Hermione tells me I'm like a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it."
He didn't laugh. Nobody that noticed the glint in my eyes would have dared to laugh either way.
Something big was about to happen, and going by the patterns, it would be a larger, and far more gory mess than Canon. For all I knew, Lucius could have invited mercenaries, thugs, snatchers and werewolves to do his bidding. And that was without considering fellow Death Eaters. A demonstration of power before an international audience would definitely set the stage for the arrival of the Dark Lord Voldemort.
After all, nobody expected a fourth-year to somehow escape a warded cemetery with a resurrected Dark Lord and his acolytes in any reasonable situation, portkeys be damned.
"Ah, erm, good," said Broderick. "See you at the Top Box then."
And then he quickly left the room.
"Harry?" asked Anastasia slowly. "What sort of plan are you cooking in your head?"
"Plan?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "There is no plan," I waved off the idea as though such a notion was beneath me. "Lucius has a plan. And I will disrupt it."
Anastasia narrowed her eyes. "What should I do?"
I gave her a lazy look, as I finished putting on my robes. "Never ask others what you should be doing, Anastasia. You should have your own clarity in life. See you at the finals."
Yes. Lord Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy wanted a global audience. I would give them one. An audience to see them getting crushed.
And it would be glorious.