Fire in The Dungeon

Ch 2 The Impropriety

Lucius Malfoy was exasperated as he stood with his and Draco's suitcases at the Dewbury Inn front desk. Draco had run into Goyle outside the lobby and had gone off to buy butterbeer in Diagon Alley. Narcissa would join them with Draco's owl and trunk on Platform 9 3/4 the following day to send off their son for his third year. Lucius was to meet Snape in 30 minutes at Flourish and Blotts to discuss the recent events in the Dark Lord's diary and the Potter boy's meddling. The little prat even cost him a house elf.

The busy Victorian lobby buzzed with the sounds of chatting guests, the crackling of people coming and going through the tall fireplace, and bellboys zipping by with their trolleys. The clerk, an energetic young man in a navy high-collared suit, had been thumbing through the thick reservation book for the last few minutes.

"Ah ha! Two suites for a one-night stay for Mister Lucius Malfoy. Just another moment while I make your keys," the clerk said, pulling out two brass, notch-less keys from the drawer of the desk and tapping his wand on them. "Yaverus Replicardio. Your keys are ready, Mr. Malfoy. Suites number 8 and 10. All the bellboys are currently occupied with other guests; would you like to wait in the lobby until one returns?"

Malfoy tutted sharply as he took the keys and quickly walked out of the lobby into the long corridor and up two flights of stairs. The light of the late afternoon sun flooded through stained glass windows along the staircases, casting a medley of colors. Malfoy stopped in front of suite number 8, opened the door with the engraved number 8 key, and left Draco's suitcase at the door before locking it again. He then walked to the end of the hallway to open the door to suite 10 and walked inside, locking it behind him.

The room was nicely furnished with a fine oak vanity table and chair, a maroon velvet chaise, and a large bed beneath a canopy hanging from the bedposts. Malfoy left his suitcase next to the chaise, drew open the heavy drapes of the large window, and looked down at the busy street. A small white ceramic box with a painted wreath of dainty flowers sitting on the vanity table caught his eye.

Narcissa would like that, he thought to himself. Returning to his suitcase, he walked to the closet doors. Upon opening one, he was met with a peculiar sight. A handful of witches' robes hung from the rod, all simple in color but made from the finest fabrics. A couple had images of birds and flowers embroidered with gold thread around the hems. Malfoy was briefly stunned and opened the second drawer of the closet to find a neatly assorted row of women's knickers and matching brassieres. He was transported back to his boyhood days in that moment, his fingers hesitating over the delicate lace of a pair of black knickers. A rush of heat spread through him as he imagined the body they belonged to.

Just then, the muffled sounds of people talking in the hallway outside the suite caught his attention, followed by the unmistakable sound of the door unlocking. In a moment of panic, he quickly stepped into the closet, knickers in his pocket and suitcase in tow, shutting the door quietly behind him. As the suite door swung open, the voices became clear.

"Thank you again for carrying the box. You can leave it right there. I hope I did not cause you much inconvenience," a woman's voice said, soothing and soft-toned, like the delicate plucking of a harp.

"T-twas not a t-trouble at all, miss. A f-f-fine lady such as yourself s-shouldn't carry a thing. W-well, I'll be g-going then, 'ta miss," said the second voice, clearly that of an older man.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, recognizing the voice as the shopkeeper at McIntyre's Botanical. He had gone there for various herbs over the years and had never known the man to stutter before. As the door closed, Malfoy peeped through the gap between the closet doors. The back of a black-cloaked figure came into view, her soft steps barely audible on the carpet.

The woman took off her cloak, placing it on the bed, revealing a long black braid trailing down her back, tied with a white ribbon. She faced the open window as she removed her earrings, placing them in the ceramic box. Malfoy's eyes followed every movement, lingering on the gentle sway of her hips as she unraveled her hair. She disappeared behind a room divider covered in muted floral silk next to the window and lit an oil lamp, her silhouette dimly showing through the screen like a shadow play displayed just for Malfoy.

His breath quickened as he watched the hourglass figure slowly disrobe down to a slip dress, then to undergarments. His heart pounded as she removed her undergarments, leaving nothing but the delicate curve of her body visible through the thin fabric of an ivory silk dressing gown. He leaned forward, captivated, the floorboard beneath him letting out the faintest creak as he nearly fell against the closet doors.

The soft sounds of her steps echoed in his ears as she walked from behind the screen, rounding the corner to the bathroom next to the hallway door. The bathroom door clicked as it closed. Malfoy waited, each second an eternity, before quietly creeping out of the closet. Just as he rounded the corner, he froze. There she was, blocking his path to the hallway door.

His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, but now he understood why McIntyre had stuttered. She was more exquisite up close, a living masterpiece of feminine beauty. Her posture was perfect, her every movement imbued with the grace of a distinguished lady. The long dressing gown clung to her porcelain skin, outlining her slim frame and the gentle swell of her breasts. Her hair, now free and wavy from the braid, cascaded down to her hips. But it was her face that left him breathless—a visage so perfect, it seemed the gods themselves had sculpted it. Her lavender eyes bore into his with mild curiosity, but otherwise disinterest. He gawked, barely registering her rosy lips moving, as if in a trance.

"...alright... sir... are... Excuse me, sir, are you alright?" the woman repeated. She stepped forward and gently tapped her hand on his coat sleeve, snapping Malfoy out of his daze. He quickly regained his composure, though the proximity of her body, the faint scent of jasmine, only heightened his arousal. Now aware that the dressing gown had slipped open a bit more, exposing the inner flesh of her bare breasts, sending a surge of heat through his veins.

"My apologies, madam. I am perfectly fine. I was taken aback by this most fortunate meeting. I am Lucius Malfoy; I am sure you have heard of me." His voice dripped with suave charm as he resisted the urge to tug at the silk bow tied neatly at her waist, a present waiting to be unwrapped.

"I must apologize in return; I have no idea who you are. However, that was not what I asked. I meant to inquire as to why you were hiding in the closet." Her tone remained even, devoid of agitation, as she looked him squarely in the eye, her expression unreadable.

"Well, it would seem the clerk was mistaken, and this suite is, in fact, not vacant," Malfoy replied smoothly, pulling the brass key from his pocket and holding it out in the palm of his hand. He closed the distance between them until he towered over her, his voice lowering. "Though I admit, I would normally be irritated at the incompetent chap, but I had no idea his mistake would lead me to such a radiant creature."

He felt a strange reluctance to admit his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Just as he felt his vows to his wife begin to waver, she looked down at the key and gingerly took it into her own and slipped it into the pocket of her gown. Her gaze returned to his face, still silent, as if waiting for him to yield.

Relieved that she asked no further questions, Malfoy leaned forward, cornering her between himself and the door. Coyly, he said in a low, nearly whispering tone, "It has been my pleasure, madam."

Only her eyes had followed him, but as he turned the knob, she slipped out of his lust-driven ambuscade, stepping aside and walking around him to face the door. Once out into the long hallway, Malfoy let out an audible sigh. Hearing the lock turn behind him, a grin spread across his face as he looked at his pocket watch, realizing he would be late for his meeting with Snape. Still high-spirited, he walked up to the inn clerk's desk and, after a bit of passionate groveling, received a key to the now truly unoccupied suite number 6. He left the black knickers with his suitcase in the empty closet, whistling as he strode back onto Diagon Alley.

"You're late," Snape announced, standing against the back wall of the cursed artifacts shop, surrounded by tall wooden shelves stacked and crammed with oddities.

"My apologies, old friend. I was just captivated by the most fascinating creature." Malfoy began to retell the encounter, sparing Snape no detail.