Agitation

Sitting at a desk in the sunroom near the back gardens, Draco was intent on making a potion that would nourish Ginny’s rosebushes which flowered outside the kitchen window.

She was adamant about the rosebushes, saying that every kitchen window needed some outside scenery. So Draco transported his mother’s Every-Colored rosebushes to the windows that overlooked the garden.

Of course, he mused, he’d not be in this position on a Saturday afternoon if Ginny weren’t so funny about cooking and cleaning. She refused house-elf help on almost every task, preferring to make dinner for Draco when she could and picking up after herself. And grudgingly he admitted he found her dead sexy when she donned only an apron and pranced about the cool white marble kitchen while making his favorite foods. No, he didn’t so much mind that.

Since she was working at St. Mungo’s today, he decided after he made the fertilizer potion he would make potato soup and apple pie for her when she returned. He was only beginning to learn how to cook, and he enjoyed peeling with his wand. He remembered how she had groaned back when he was making those foods at least once a week for sheer fun.

Turning back to the potions book at his elbow, he checked and rechecked the potion’s contents and measures. Pouring carefully into his cauldron, Draco mixed the first five ingredients and set about preparing the next portion.

Essence of earthworm and crushed bone meal had to be agitated quickly for five minutes before being poured into the boiling cauldron mixture. At the bottom of the page was the instructions for the agitation charm, plus variations for different speeds and lengths of time. Casting the simple spell, Draco watched the cloudy, chunky mixture vibrate back and forth on his desk, the concoction swirling and occasionally emitting steam.

He thought of Ginny now, and how he planned to make love to her when she got home. He had recently begun to feel rather guilty that she often had to work on the weekends and he didn’t, so he compensated by showing his love both physically and in menial work. Before his mother had left Draco and Ginny to Malfoy Mansion, she had cautioned Draco against slacking.

“She was born and bred a hard worker,” Narcissa Malfoy-Snape told him. “She won’t appreciate it if you use your wand for everything.”

So he had learned how to cook (“Only knowing how to melt chocolate to paint all over me does not qualify as cooking, Draco!”) and borrowed books from Narcissa on how to keep the gardens pristine. He had even ventured into his long-dead father’s dungeons to see what he could unearth. Ginny had been beside herself when he had found an antique rocker and hand-polished it for her.

But there was certainly no hardship in making love to her. Though he was considerably smug about his abilities, he had no problem inventing new techniques and implementing the odd or outrageous into their sexual life.

Which was how he got an idea by watching the earthworm-bone meal sludge shake in its glass container.

***

It took him another half hour to brew the rest of the potion. In total he now had at least a gallon of the smelly stuff and went outside to pour it on the roses.

He came inside and showered, noticing that the hours had ticked away from him and he’d best hustle if he wanted to have dinner done before Ginny arrived.

Once he started the soup bubbling and the apples lay beneath a conjured pie crust, he summoned the potions book and turned to the page that had the agitation charm. Looking closely at the Latin words and picking his brain, he deduced that he could cast the charm on himself with no ill effects. Taking his wand in hand, he cast the charm on his left thumb at medium speed for two minutes.

He watched his thumb vibrate in place for a minute before he upped the speed. Though he had expected discomfort, he only felt a slight numbness when his thumb finished agitating. Smiling darkly, he sent the book back to his desk and waited to hear Ginny’s muted steps in the front foyer.

An hour later and Ginny still wasn’t home. He knew she sometimes had emergencies, but even if she couldn’t send a note herself she often had someone else owl or floo him. As he ran through a variety of emotions he heard the cracking sound of Apparation.

Forcing himself not to go out and meet her, he waited for her to come into the kitchen and put away her things in the cupboard she reserved for just that. She shambled into the kitchen, pale and drawn. He wasn’t even sure she noticed him lounging against the sink on the opposite side of the room.

Instead of neatly putting away her things, she slung them onto the table she insisted be in the kitchen. Draco quickly pulled out his wand and cast a cushioning charm on the seat as he saw her move to drop into it.

“Thanks,” she said wearily, looking up at him. He crossed the space between them quickly and dropped to his knees in front of her.

“What’s happened, Gin? Are you okay?” he said, pulling her in for a hug. She nodded on his shoulder, clinging to him.

“I just saw some horribly injured people today,” she said. “What took me so long was a little boy whose parents had been fighting, hurling hexes, and he ran from his room to stop them fighting and got caught in the crossfire. The mother became so distraught that she broke her wand and now we can’t remove the body-binding curse she was throwing.”

She sniffled twice, didn’t cry. In fact, since her work during the war, most of her tears for the injured had been shed there. But the occasional child could get the best of her.

“But we were able to remove the impedimentia his father threw. The boy is okay for now, just effectively paralyzed until Ollivander can repair the wand. I felt so sorry for that little kid.”

Draco held her closely and waited for her sadness to pass. Finally she looked up and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“I’m better now. I just had to tell someone,” she said, looking around the room. “I smell potatoes and apples,” she said suspiciously. “Is that a peeling on the wall?”

Draco turned in the direction she pointed and indeed a bright green apple peeling was stuck precariously below some cabinets.

Muttering the banishment charm, he turned to her.

“Let’s take the food upstairs. You need a warm bath, some warm food, and a very warm Draco.” She rolled her eyes heavenward as she let Draco pull her to her feet.

He ushered her upstairs to bathe while he poured the potato soup into large earthenware mugs and added spoons. Cutting two pieces of the pie, he placed the mugs and small plates of pie on a tray. Adding tall glasses of pumpkin juice and a flagon of milk, he levitated the tray and ascended the stairs.

When he entered their bedroom, he put the food on Ginny’s bedside table and set to work transfiguring the bed.

Draco had personally seen to it that they had the finest bed available. A Parisian wizarding boutique that specialized in transfigurable beds was just the ticket. Within seconds, the fairly normal-looking rectangular bed became a deep, lush circular one with a padded back. Soon he had conjured large, squashy pillows to prop them up. Ginny’s favorite down comforter was made into a circle and placed on top. Satisfied, he turned just in time to see Ginny emerging from the lavatory bundled in his black bathrobe, hair dripping.

“Must you always wear my bathrobe?” he asked, mock sullenly. She smiled brilliantly and only hugged the warm, soft fabric closer to her bare skin.

“It smells like you, love. So when you’re not here I snuggle up in it and think of you.”

At once his mind was assailed with images of her lying on their bed carelessly wrapped in his robe, legs parted and slim fingers busily bringing her to a climax. The thought was more than enough to stir his member underneath his lounging pants.

“Let’s eat,” he said, eager to get her into bed. She nodded and withdrew her wand from the pocket of his robe, casting a quick drying spell. Pulling back the deep covers, he created a space for them to lie down and enjoy their food.

Ginny scrambled in first, the too-large bathrobe affording Draco a clear but fleeting glimpse of her pert breast. Noticing her soup was still steaming, he whispered a cooling charm across the mug’s rim. Ginny accepted the mug in cupped hands and sipped, smiling brightly.

“Perfect, sweetheart,” she murmured, kissing Draco’s proffered cheek. Obviously satisfied with himself, he put the milk and a glass of juice within her reach and brought his own food to the other side of the bed. They sat shoulder to shoulder against the lush, padded backing of the bed, spooning Draco’s delicious soup until their utensils scraped the bottom of the mugs. Ginny was the first to abandon the empty mug for her slice of pie. Draining and then cleaning her juice glass with a wave of her wand, she poured milk in it and quickly set to eating.

When she was done, Draco turned her head so he could lick a speck of pie filling she’d missed on purpose from the corner of her lips. When he saw her begin to untie the sash of his robe, he couldn’t send the remnants of their meal winging their way to the kitchen fast enough.

“You’re giving me half a mind to use that sash in an entirely different way,” he drawled softly, urging her to slide down into the covers with him.

“And what would that be?” she asked, smiling knowingly as she shrugged off the robe and cast it to the floor.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he said, slipping off his lounging pants so they could lie skin to skin. “Maybe bind you to bed so I can have my wicked way with you…or perhaps use it as the softest whip in the world,” he mused, stroking his chin and eyeing her.

Ginny shook her head, causing her fiery tumble of now-dry tresses to caress the tops of her breasts. Draco’s gray eyes locked onto the sight, watching her chest tremble with the effort.

“You’re incorrigible,” she said, insinuating herself into his arms and drawing patterns on the sculpted muscles of his abdomen.

“Yes, maybe, but I’m dependably incorrigible. By the way, Gin, I made that wretched potion for your damned rosebushes,” he teased gently. “It smelled so bad I nearly heaved my lunch.”

Had she looked up she’d have seen a smile quirking the corners of his lips. As it was, with her face buried in his side, he felt her silky eyebrow rise with obvious disbelief.

“You realize there’s no way for you to get out of taking care of the garden. Your mother entrusted it to you to make it pretty for me, so you’ll get it from both sides if you let those roses waste away.”

Continuing as if he’d never heard her, he delivered the kicker.

“But you’ll be amazed to know that despite all my hours of toiling over a bubbling mix of sludge, I did learn something interesting and I dare say beneficial.”

He could tell he had her attention now; her red head popped up to eye level and she stared at him unwaveringly.

“What’s that?” she asked, lush lips brushing dangerously near his nipple.

“Patience, patience,” he chided, stroking the fall of her hair condescendingly. “Good things come to those who wait.”

She rolled her chocolate eyes. “And what happens if I don’t want to wait?” she asked facetiously.

“If you don’t wait without pestering me, I’ll have you begging me to tell you,” he replied, fixing his smoldering stare on her. Letting out great sigh as if they’d squabbled, she popped him once in his hard stomach.

“No hitting,” he warned. “No making eyes, no sighs, but screaming is okay.” It made her smile and he hauled her up to kiss him properly.

Many minutes later, after her repeated attempts to give him a little pleasure, he told her in no uncertain terms that by touching him he became distracted, and a distracted Draco couldn’t show her the new thing he’d learned.

She harrumphed angrily, because as often as Draco made love to her, she never felt she got to touch her fill. By Circe, with a body like his, no woman would have begrudged her her disappointment.

By then Draco had hauled her shapely legs over his shoulder and was delving into her most private place with intense gusto. Determined to one-up him, she bit back her breathy sighs of pleasure and opened her mouth.

“Well,” she managed shakily, looking down the line of her body to where Draco had raised his eyes to her face, “you must not have learned anything new about this. This is just the same old thing.”

When he stopped dead from shock in the middle of the act, it was only her keening cry of loss that brought him back to task. The laughter he vainly tried to curb bubbled in his throat and worried her sensitive knot of nerves. A breathless scream sounded and he backed off, keeping her steadily aroused with his fingers as he surfaced to speak.

“That was very clever, Gin,” he said softly, laughter still sparkling in his eyes. “Just for that, I’m not going to make you wait any longer, considering you clearly need the ante upped.”

Her body was nearly boneless as he pushed her back into the middle of the bed, still thrusting crossed fingers into her gently. Summoning his wand, he arranged himself between Ginny’s legs, the vibrant curls of her sex momentarily holding his attention. It was all the better her eyes were closed and she was thrashing her head around on her pillow, almost unable to ask him to finish her off.

With a whispered incantation, Draco felt his heavy erection begin to buzz in a pleasant way. Not that he’d want to do this forever, but if this simple spell was gratifying for him, he could only imagine how it would affect Ginny.

Throwing his wand on the floor, he withdrew his thoroughly coated fingers from her entrance and grasped himself firmly.

“Keep those eyes closed, Gin,” he muttered and thrust inside her.

She shot straight up and nearly into a sitting position. His constantly agitating cock touched her everywhere and she was just as quickly down on her back, squirming and moaning from the alien sensations.

“This is what I learned, Ginny,” Draco managed tightly, working hard to hold back his own climax. Gods, with her writhing in ecstasy like that beneath him, he wasn’t sure he could go much longer. Once he reined himself in, he concentrated on stroking into her deeply, turning his hips this way and that to keep those bloody erotic moans dripping from her lips.

She’d never imagined such intense lovemaking. Whatever spell Draco had put on himself had already made her come twice, and her third orgasm in quick succession was going to be the death of her. She clamped herself hard around him when she dimly heard him moan her name. Unwilling to relax her muscles, she felt him plunge through the tightened tunnel of flesh to her very core. Unable to keep the single scream off her lips, her entire body drew in and took Draco with her.

As if she had put his erection in a magical hold, her body kept him locked deep within her as his essence left him in long, satisfying pulses. As he tried to withdraw and remove the spell, an aftershock hit her and pulled him within her again, drawing a shout from him as his still-hard cock spasmed again.

He collapsed on her, barely able to leave her channel. Blindly he reached for his wand, and upon realizing it was on the floor rolled off the bed and searched for it frantically. Ginny heard a hurried finite incantatem issue from the floor, but was too busy trying not to see stars anymore to care much.

Gulping air like a landed fish, Draco pulled himself up from the floor with a Herculean effort and flopped next to Ginny. Curious jolts of numbness shot through him, but he dismissed it when he chanced to glance at Ginny.

It looked as if she’d just stepped out of the shower moments ago. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and her skin was dewy with perspiration. Looking down her body he saw that her toes were slowly uncurling and her fingers were releasing the sheets she had fisted during their romp.

He’d never quite appreciated how beautiful Ginny was when she was agitated.