It is of the utmost importance that Draco Malfoy repair his public image.
For the first time in years, the Malfoys are suffering from a generally negative public opinion, and it has led to the stagnation of their income. “This is an intolerable circumstance,” according to Lucius, as the Malfoys must always be expanding their fortune in order to stay among the elite and in power. They must simply overcome his unfortunate choices and regain that status. It’s part of the family legacy to hold a position of influence, after all.
Draco’s need to be free of guilt and the specter of his own poor choices contributes a bit as well to his decision to resolve the debts of conscience. He has wronged many people over the course of the war and, if he’s going to get past this, he needs to make amends or a public effort to redeem himself, at least.
The first on his list of wronged and the first Draco appoints to receive his attempt at penance is determined by convenience.
Madam Rosmerta is short a server at the Three Broomsticks, one of her employees having been snatched and killed early in the war – another gruesome instance of Draco witnessing Nagini devour her meal. Since Draco is already in the nearby area – pitching in and lending a hand to rebuild and restore Hogwarts as part of his sentence for community service – he can easily do both in separate shifts. Going beyond the scope of his sentence to try and work off his bad deeds would no doubt be seen favorably, which doesn’t hurt.
He sends her a letter explaining his desire to make up for what he had done to her.
Within an hour, he receives a terse reply:
You will come and apologize to me in person.
Draco shifts his weight nervously and wonders if perhaps he should have brought his mother along. Just as an intermediary. Not because he needs her or anything.
He stares at the ‘Closed’ sign of the Three Broomsticks and the ominously empty pub through the windows before glancing around the area one more time. It’s deserted, the last rays of the sun illuminating the boarded windows and empty storefronts, while casting long shadows over the road.
Surely, she wouldn’t summon him here - where no one is likely to hear them, at this late hour - to exact her own brand of justice. Would she? She hadn’t acknowledged his apology nor accepted his proposal in her reply, but perhaps she meant to discuss it now. She’s not planning to torture him. Right?
Draco shoves his paranoid thoughts to the back of his mind. No. Madam Rosmerta is no Bellatrix Lestrange. Who knows? Maybe she’ll even be satisfied with a proper apology. She may just decide having a former Death Eater serving at her establishment can hurt business and forgive him without requiring any lengthy or potentially humiliating service on his part.
He steels himself.
Draco has come to the Three Broomsticks to formally apologize to Madam Rosmerta. She had always been friendly to him and he had used her, seen her as a tool to be utilized in his desperate attempts at fulfilling his task. Certainly, she deserves the common courtesy of having him face her in person when he apologizes. And, hopefully, he can even convince her to forgive the Unforgiveable.
He knocks on the door.
“Get in here!” She shouts, voice rough.
Oh! He scrambles to enter and shut the door behind him.
Only now does he see that the pub is not quite empty. Madam Rosmerta is sprawled on a chair at one of the back tables. She has an open bottle of Firewhiskey in one hand from which she guzzles a quick mouthful. Ledgers are scattered on the table before her.
Draco steps forward, shuffling his feet a bit. He’s still not used to feeling guilty. “I, uh—I took advantage of you in my desperation during hard times and I sincerely apolo—“
Rosmerta takes one hard look at him – at his awkward stance with his uncomfortable apologies – and interrupts him.
“You know what your problem is? You’re a boy,” she derides. “A foolish boy who needs to grow up and learn some maturity. Learn to take responsibility for yourself and your actions. Hiccuh—!“
She takes another swallow of alcohol.
“You need to drop that childish schoolboy nonsense your father taught you and become a man. Come here.”
Madam Rosmerta stands with a lurch, sways up to him, and latches onto his arm. She’s visibly tipsy, if not completely drunk. “Upstairs with you,” she orders and pulls him with a firm hand up to a room above the pub.
She hauls him to a nondescript room with a bed. It’s looking less and less like he’s going to get that server position.
He thinks that perhaps she has brought him up here to give him a stern lecture in private – while the bed is there, possibly, so that she might take a switch to his backside and call him a “naughty boy” while she does it. Or maybe she really does intend to curse him with no witnesses. Madam Rosmerta is popular among the Hogwarts students and staff, one of the few attractive older women to be seen in the whole of Hogsmeade and featuring in many schoolboy fantasies. She has always struck him as someone who would be adventurous in bed. Adventurous enough to have shackles attached to her bed, though? Either way, Rosmerta seems to have taken it upon herself to teach him a lesson.
Only, instead of hexing Draco, she pushes him to sprawl out on the bed, hikes her skirts, and straddles him.
His heart starts to race. He’s never actually done more than snogging yet. Draco is absolutely certain at this point, though, that he’s about to go a lot further than that with a drunk Madam Rosmerta. Naughty boy, indeed.
Tangling her limbs around him, she rolls them over on the bed so he’s on top of her.
And, oh fuck, he can feel her large round breasts pressing against him. He struggles to calm himself lest he allow too much excitement to show.
Rosmerta shoves him down her body and spreads her legs to reveal her naked glistening pussy. “Get to work,” she commands. “If you can get me to orgasm, you’ll have my forgiveness. Otherwise, I will pursue a civil suit.”
Draco looks at her in shock. This is really happening, isn’t it?
She raises a brow and waits.
He takes a deep breath, smelling the scent of her growing arousal. Oh. His cock twitches and begins to harden within his pants. This is his chance to finally have sex, to experience that major rite of passage. The one that he had to listen to his fellow sixth year Slytherins gloat over and describe in explicit detail while he was too busy plotting against Dumbledore and surviving the Dark Lord. Now that the war was over, it pained him to think of how far behind he had gotten compared to his housemates. Besides, there was no way he was about to risk another court case and further damage to the Malfoy reputation or coffers.
Ducking down, he lowers his mouth to kiss lightly at one of her exposed hips. He pulls back to stare at her pussy. Oh, Merlin, he can practically see her flesh throbbing. Heat rushes through him and he can feel his cock ache sharply with want.
Draco blows softly on her nether lips and moans when they seem to twitch and more slick fluid trickles out of her pussy and down her smooth arse. She gasps and spreads her legs wider.
He runs his hands up the insides of her legs before reaching them underneath her to cup her arse and tilt her pussy closer towards his mouth. Draw out the foreplay, he recalls from a particularly explicit tale. Leaning forward, Draco licks tentatively at her perineum and the juices dripping out of her.
“Uhnn,” Rosmerta moans. “More.” She clenches fistfuls of the bedding into her outstretched hands, angling her pelvis to press up into his tongue.
He takes a shaky breath. Draco flicks his tongue teasingly between her nether lips and along the entrance to her pussy, tasting her.
She moans and begins to grind up against his face.
A shudder of pleasure runs down his spine and settles in his pelvis. It’s warm, a little salty, and so deliciously dirty to be licking between a woman’s legs it’s thrilling. He delves his tongue deeper, thrusting it inside her.
Mmm. Draco rubs his tongue over the walls of her pussy, wiggling it into her deeper and deeper. He pants through his nose and suckles at her juicy center.
Rosmerta writhes, arching her head backwards into the mattress.
His hands massage the cheeks of her arse before shifting around to cover her hips so he can hold her still and bracket her legs with his arms while he ravages her with his mouth.
Her muscles flutter and tense, clutching at his tongue.
He seals his lips to her and kisses deeply, his top lip pressing on her clit.
She makes a squawking noise and her legs kick out into the air. Her pussy clenches and ripples in satisfaction with her release.
Moaning, Draco sucks at her and drinks the gushing fluid of her pussy while he grinds his hard cock into the mattress.
Rosmerta pulls his hair, dragging him back up along her body. She wraps her legs around him and snakes a hand down to unfasten his trousers. Grabbing hold of the fabric, she shoves both his trousers and underwear down his thighs.
Draco writhes. He has trouble remembering the next part; it happens so quickly.
She flips their positions, shifting him onto his back and straddling his lap once more. With a swift downward motion, Rosmerta takes his stiff erection into her pussy – all the way down to the hilt in one go.
It is surreal. A small part of him is marveling that he is having sex, while the rest of him is flush with blood and jerking with animal instinct.
Up and down she thrusts, pulling her blouse over her head and tossing it onto the floor.
He fucks furiously up into her as she bounces on his cock, causing her breasts to swing with the momentum. Uhnnn. He reaches with one hand to caress her side and cup one of her voluptuous breasts, massaging it.
“Yes,” she sighs in a husky whisper and clenches her fingers against his shoulders, riding him. The slapping of skin on wet skin frantically increases.
Then she pauses, spreads her knees, and grinds down, rubbing him deep within her.
“Aah!” Draco shudders and presses up harder into her, tightening his hands on her hips. He can feel his muscles clenching, and it feels so good but it’s too soon, and his come spurts and gushes inside her.
Rosmerta moans, her own muscles spasming and contracting to milk his cock as she comes.
She rocks languidly on him for a moment more before slumping onto the bed beside him.
He slips out of her, slick and sweaty, and lays there exhausted and panting. The sex happened so casually – “You’re on a contraception potion regimen, right?”
The answer is short and to the point. “Yes.”
He fights down a cringe at his own crudeness, but he figures it’s all part of that whole taking responsibility thing.
Reaching down over the edge of the bed to retrieve her blouse, Rosmerta exhales a long sigh. She re-dresses and smoothes down her skirts.
“You just caught me in a bout of frustration, ‘s all. It didn’t mean anything, really. So we’ll consider ourselves even and that’s that. Y’hear?”
So it was a bit of stress relief? A drunken one off? He hadn’t expected any differently. She orgasmed twice, so if it was a test of his ability to give her that relief, he passed. Though, as it was his first time and he had nothing to compare it to, the question remains: Was it any good? He thought so but, then again, he wasn’t exactly objective.
Draco blinks and straightens his clothing self-consciously. “Yes. I understand.”
He stands and allows her to usher him downstairs and out the door.
His thoughts are a strange mix of depression and smug ecstasy. Draco Malfoy has just lost his virginity. And to a foxy older woman, no less! Too bad it was only the one time. He can feel his cock twitch with excitement at thought of another round of sex.
Still, he wonders about the awkward state in which they left things -- perhaps that was not the best way to make amends. He really needs to concentrate on his goals: improve the Malfoy image and pay his dues to those he has wronged.
With the way this turned out, he can only imagine what it’ll be like to face the rest of those he had slighted. Interesting and challenging, no doubt. And, hopefully, as fun as this one.