It was finally the August the first, the wedding date for the nuptials between Fleur Delacour and William Weasley. The day Ministry of Magic would fall. The day my plan would begin.
I was standing with the Death Eater group targeting the Weasley wedding, my so-called failure in Hogwarts at the end of the school year disqualifying me from joining the Ministry Attack Force. On my hand, I held the wand I purchased from Ollivander's during the holiday, the Elder Wand safely secured in a hidden holster on my arm. Of course, I wasn't too sad about missing the opportunity to join the ministry attack. The wedding allowed me to target several key underrated players in where their response options were severely limited.
The assigned leader, Avery, signaled the beginning of the assault, and I squeezed my hold over the provided portkey. An awful tugging sensation later, I was in the of chaos. The stunners were flying out of the Death Eaters, while the wedding guests were trying to escape, limiting themselves to shields and defensive constructs. I didn't know it was because they realized Death Eaters were the new legal authority and trying to limit their law-breaking, or whether it was the stupid pacifism of the Dumbledore's gang, trying to fight a war with childish hexes while the other side spread Dark curses like candies in Halloween.
My attention was instantly grabbed by the bride, Fleur Delacour. Wrapped in a white wedding dress, illuminated by an inner fire, even during all the chaos, she looked like a beautiful spirit from the fairyland. Someone less evil might experience tender emotions against the fate that ruined her biggest moment, but I had only one thought in my mind. Ruining her under my selfish attention. And to do that, I needed two people. My first attention was to capture her husband, and using him as a leverage to push my demands on her. Then, I noticed a small, blond-haired child fading in the orchard, overlooked by everyone else. "Perfect," I murmured, disillusioned myself, and subtly switched to Elder Wand. An apparition later, I was next to her, dropping her with a stunner before she could even react. I took a hold of her arm, apparated to Malfoy Manor, and left her in one of the unused rooms, unconscious, and apparated back, ready to join the fray. Of course, I didn't have the slightest desire to harm her, because, for all I did, I wasn't a monster enough to hurt children. But her absence would be enough to give me the opening I needed.
On the edge, I could see Hermione, Ron, and a random looking guy -who I assumed Harry Potter under the effects of the Polyjuice- apparating away. I did nothing to stop them, a lot of my plans was based on them getting away without any issue. I needed someone to run around and distract Voldemort while I brought his downfall, after all. I turned my attention towards the rest of the group, switched to my support wand, canceled my invisibility, and started to attack the group, though it wasn't very noteworthy combat, the main resistance was already broken, and we were collecting the straddlers, though I was happy to note that both Fleur and her husband were amongst the stunned group. It gave me the opportunity to start molding her before she learned her sister's absence.
Gaining access to the holding cell hadn't been difficult. With the takeover, everything was in chaos, and the prisoners from the wedding were a low priority target. Voldemort already declared that he wasn't interested in killing them, believing that with Dumbledore dead and Potter missing, the resistance would fade away unless he did something really aggressive, like killing a lot of pureblood wizards without provocation. I had a feeling Snape had a particular hand behind that decision, and not because he wanted to ensure the success of Voldemort's cause, but I let it be. After all, no one was aware but the current situation helped me the most, especially with the order that the prisoners were not to be touched.
A quick imperius to a Death Eater and a forged order later, and I was responsible for the cells, just in case one of the other Death Eaters had a similar idea to use her. She was mine, and she was too precious to share with that uncouth brutes. I waited a couple hours, just to make sure nothing was going on, then imperiused the other guard, ordering him to act normal. Then, I walked to the solitary cell Fleur was being held on, and cast a concealment ward around it. It was a simple ward, one that would isolate the cell as well as making it a bit harder to detect. Of course, with the Elder Wand, it became much stronger. I wasn't a Fidelius, but it was enough to keep anything away as long as they weren't deliberately looking for Fleur's cell, and even then, it required a significant willpower to breach the concealment.
I was ready to enter after one last touch. I wanted to feed some potion to her to loosen her a bit, but I had a feeling she would reject any food or drink I presented, and I didn't want to force her to drink anything. So, I whipped out my cock and rubbed it with a lust potion, quite stronger than one I used on Narcissa. It had a bit of aftertaste, but unlike Amortentia, it didn't wary depending on the drinker's preferences. I was willing to bet that Fleur wouldn't notice it, her mind would busy with more important concerns.
With my preparations complete, I had entered the cell, and saw Fleur sitting on the only bed in the room. Considering it took just a spell to ensure it's cleanliness, the room must be intentionally dirty. Not that I had any problems, the rundown ambiance definitely add some unique tint to the incoming experience. Still, it wasn't as important as the blond woman sitting on it, dressed in a long white dress that had been pristinely white just hours ago, but now, covered with patches of dirt, with occasional torn patches around the skirt. Her hair was similarly disrupted, her earlier immaculate strands messily sprawled to her neck. But even with all, she was one of the most beautiful things I had ever lay eyes upon. I would enjoy ruining her.
She turned her gaze to me, and I could see the fire burning behind them. I reminded myself to be careful, after all, she was a veela, and her lack of wand didn't equal to not being dangerous. It only took one swipe of her transformed claw to kill someone. "Good afternoon, Miss Delacour," I said with a deliberately cheerful tone. "How do you feel in this nice weather."
She looked towards me, hatred burning behind her eyes. I could easily understand her anger, after all, Draco was the main reason for her husband's injuries, and I was one of the principal reasons her supposedly happiest day was ruined. Not that she was aware the distinction between us. The desire to burn me to cinders with Veela powers drove her forward, I could see in her eyes, sparking with anger. But, with an impressive display of willpower, she did no motion towards it. "It's Mrs. Weasley now," she said between her clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry, milady," I answered, making no attempt to hide mocking tone. "I will do no such mistake again." Angering her was a risky proposition, but I felt tempted to push it. It was oddly compelling, like poking a particularly angry feline.
"What do you want, Malfoy," she asked after a few seconds of silence.
"Wow, such anger," I said, making a show of taking a step backward. "Careful, Mrs. Weasley. You almost convinced me to abort my plan of helping you."
"I don't want any help from a pathetic boy like you," she exclaimed, the room getting a bit hotter. I felt my pants getting tight once again. After all, it was an arousing sight, a fiery veela, trapped in a cell, wrapped in a ruined wedding dress…
I shook my head, trying to focus on the moment. I wanted to ignore the insult, but being called a boy actually hurt more than anything else. Still, I didn't give any sign of discomfort. After all, I was about to teach her that I was not a boy. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley. You actually don't need my help. It has been determined that you had no role in assisting subversive elements, and you'll be let go a few hours later." Her face was light in elation, but I mercilessly snuffed it. "Your husband, on the other hand…"
As expected, her elation disappeared as quick as it appeared, along with her casual dismissal of my presence. "What about my husband?" she asked in a trembling tone, her earlier bravado completely absent.
"Tests has shown that his blood contains traces of lycanthropy, but whether the full curse took hold or not is inconclusive. And as the law dictates, he needs to be held under observation until the full moon in an undisclosed facility to make sure he doesn't fully transform."
"That's barbaric, you cannot do that," she exclaimed.
"Unfortunately, we can. Though I find it ironic that it's one of the laws sponsored by Dumbledore. Sometimes, fate is really a bitch." She really was, otherwise, how could one explain my presence in this universe. It was as merciful as throwing a hungry shark in an aquarium filled with goldfishes. I saw the despair on her face, and moved to the coup de grace. "The clincher is, however, Lestrange is in charge of prisoner logistics. A man famous for his cruelty. A man, who received a really nasty injury at Hogwarts a couple months ago. I heard he was quite enthusiastic about putting your husband into Azkaban for a month." I barely held back a laugh upon seeing the despair on her face. "And I don't need to remind you what he was famous for before a decade and half years long stay in Azkaban…"
With my last words, she was barely able to hold her tears back. I wasn't surprised that Fleur swallowed the tale without any doubt. After all, almost all the facts I listed there was correct. Even the law was there and Lestrange intended to use it. Only, Lestrange didn't have a special grudge towards William Weasley. That, and I was the one that brought the lycanthropy law to his attention.
"Why are you here," Fleur asked, unable to stop a couple of tears sliding down her cheeks. I decided I was really an evil bastard, after all, her tears made me only hornier. There was a certain appeal in such a strong-willed woman, being forced into tears. I smiled, this was going to be even better than I hoped.
"I'm here to offer you an alternative," I said with a soft tone of a devil holding a contract that would bring salvation, for a price, of course.
I could see her struggling to keep the temptation of uttering the next words. From my expression, she must have realized what I was about to ask, but the safety of her husband must have come first. "What alternative?" she asked.
"I use my pull, and ensure he is being held in a decent facility with no angry Death Eaters or errant Dementors."
The next words were so reluctant, that she must have used a prier to dislodge them from her vocal cords. "And what is the price?" I didn't even bother to utter a word, just pulled my pants down. "I cannot," she uttered. "I'm a virgin, and I can't have my wedding night without my virginity."
An elation rose inside me, and I adjusted my plans on the fly. I could easily blackmail her for it, but there was an option much more attractive, corrupting her until she willingly gave it to me. It would be much tastier. "That's really impressive, prioritizing your virginity over the wellbeing of your husband." I continued before she could utter a word. "But, I'm not without a mercy, we can adjust things so that your virginity stays intact until your wedding night, but in return, you will serve me every three days until the full moon, which is in fifteen days. So, five sessions for your husband's well-being. What do you say, Mrs. Weasley." I took a breath, and added. "And one to seal the deal of course," I said, pointing at my erect cock. "We cannot leave my little dragon like that."
The shock, anger, and sadness passed through her face, finally setting on the resignation. I walked towards her, discreetly holding my wand. I was almost sure that her will was broken, but there was a significant difference between almost and certainty. Still, I walked towards her bed, my cock dangling freely with each step. I stood in front of her sitting figure, my cock dangling at the same level with her mouth. She surrendered, leaning forward, her lips parted.
A moan escaped me as I felt her lips pushing towards. With the rush from dominating her, her blank expression did little to reduce my excitement. For today, physical surrender needed to suffice. I still had five more sessions to take her soul. She started bobbing her head in a mechanical manner, showing little skill. I was a bit surprised by her inexperience, even if she wasn't a virgin, I would expect her to be more skilled. Magical France supposed to be more liberal than Magical Britain, especially Veelas. Apparently, I managed to find the exception.
Still, I was happier with the case. After all, it meant she lacked the baseline experience to compare the actions of our sessions, leaving her to my tender attention. I changed my plans regarding her once more. Initially, I wanted to just use her until I let go of her husband, but now, my plans shifted. I wanted to own her even after defiling her completely. I wanted to make her a masterpiece.
However, her incompetence showed itself, distracting me from my thoughts. "Careful with the teeth, honey, unless you want it to last for half a day," I said, putting my hand on her hair, caressing lightly. She shuddered in revulsion at my touch, but I felt her chin forcing open a bit more, distancing her teeth from my skin. "Use some tongue too, sweetie," I added. This, she didn't follow.
I stayed fairly passive for ten minutes, the point where the lust potion started to affect her. I wasn't very hopeful about its impact, while it was a strong potion, coating my cock wasn't the best way of injecting a full dose inside her. I was carefully observing the dilation of her pupils, the indicator of the success. I managed to catch the first sign couple of minutes after the ten-minute line, with her quickening breath. The dilation came several seconds later, and I licked my lips in anticipation.
I pressed my hands on both sides of her head, and pushed my cock deeper, not too deep, but enough to jar her. She looked up, the only way she could with my cock still lodged deep in her mouth. "Well," I said, shrugging. "I wasn't expecting you to be that clumsy when sucking cock, so I decided to help you. Try not to faint." I saw her eyes grew in panic as soon as I mentioned feinting, but I didn't give her any time to gather herself. I pushed my cock into her throat without a warning, her shocked gags melody to my ears. I kept it there for a couple of seconds, then pulled back, giving her just enough time to take a shallow breath, then pushed once again.
After the first few repeats, I quickened by beats, my cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing into her throat. She was helpless, with her responses limited to gagging and wheezing. But as it contained, I noticed something else, her allure was flaring up. It wasn't enough to turn my consciousness into mush, but I realized allure was an excellent aphrodisiac, especially when the source of it had her lips wrapped around my cock, trying to breathe enough not to faint while I fucked her throat.
Even occlumency was inefficient holding back a release when one face-fucked a veela, I realized as I tried to push it back in vain. Instead, I decided to embrace the moment. I suddenly pulled back, leaving her dazed and wheezing. Then, without waiting for even the slightest response, I grabbed the bustier of her wedding dress and pulled down. A rippling sound later, her naked tits were dangling freely in the chilly prison air. Already at my limit, I started spraying her face and her tits with my seed. Dazed, she watched with slightly glassed eyes as I covered her face and tits with my spunk, so much that I suspected there was a bit of accidental magic involved.
I received another surprise while trying to understand why she barely reacted my trick with her dress. She was having an orgasm of her own! Even with the lust potion, that was impressive. Either the potion interacted with her veela heritage in an unexpected way, or she was more vulnerable to domination than I thought. "Good work, Mrs. Weasley," I said even as I pulled her wedding dress up, and mended the tear with a repair charm, her tits still covered with my seed under the fabric, staining her wedding dress. Yet another symbolic victory of sorts. I pulled a paper, scribbled and address on it with a conjured pen, and was about to push it into her dazed hand, when the inspiration struck. I pulled her dress down once more, writing the address on her stained breasts, then pulling back after one last farewell squeeze. "Here, Mrs. Weasley. This is the address you will visit tonight, 10 PM, sharp. Don't be late." She nodded, then shook her head dazedly, trying to gather her mind from the haze of pleasure.
I turned, started to walk away. But just at the door, I turned, vanquished by the temptation. "And don't forget to practice on a banana," I added. "You need to provide a better service if you want to ensure your husband's safety." With that, I turned, and left the cell, my mind is already on the next steps.