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As the bricks opened in front of him, the wizard stepped into Diagon Alley. He brusquely walked past Fortesque’s Ice Cream Parlour, Zonko’s Joke Shop, and a variety of other shops before arriving at his destination. Straightening his coat, he took a deep breath and peered up at the sign.
The sign itself was magicked to only be visible if the viewer was over 25 years old.
"Keeps out the younguns!" laughed the elderly owner when the wizard had asked him one night.
Making sure no one was paying attention, he walked inside.
The little bell above the door tinkled, shattering the silence and announcing his arrival.
"Ahh, so you did come in the daylight. I told them you would, but I'm just an old man, what do I know?" the shopkeeper weezed in his gruffly aged voice.
"I did, and not a moment too soon by the looks of it!" the tall wizard said, pointing to the door to the shopkeepers left, where a faint trickle of smoke was starting to sleep around the edges. "How long have they been at it?"
"Since well before 4 this morning. Better get in there," he said, tossing a charmed rag at the wizard for his face.
He held the rag up to his face. As soon as it touched, it moulded itself to hide his features.
He walked into the room and promptly shut the door behind him. He moved to the coat rack to his left, removed his cloak, and stepped up onto the small stage in the front of the room. Posing himself next to the other model, he positioned his nude frame to match hers. He'd seen her many times before, but still had no idea who she was.
Draco never thought the day would come that he would have engaged himself in The Art Scene.
But then, he had seen a group of beautiful women walking casually into a nondescript building, and next thing he knew, he’d been seated at the back of a room full of new parents and recently wed individuals struck with the urge to reassert their individualism.
He had returned week after week, never sure why, to various sessions of improv acting, pottery making, and now finally, nude model sculpting.
And he had been elected to be the male model. At least his face was hidden.
He slowed his breathing to match that of the other model as he tried to relax his muscles. They'd be there for at least an hour or so. Getting comfortable, he looked around.
The room looked the same as usual, but the artistic props had rotated again. The blankets and fruit he understood. But this time they had included a mermaid's necklace and something that looked like a miniature quidditch hoop with criss-crossing wires.
The model had already chosen her prop. She had a large white feather and had it artfully angled just a breath away from touching the skin of her upper breasts, framing them beautifully so as to bring attention to the assets she was most comfortable with.
He was already mostly in position but knew the matron of the studio would get irritated if he didn't close a prop. He reached out just a bit from his pose and fumbled with the Mermaid's necklace, but feeling a strange cool magic radiate from it, he dropped it back on the table. That's when his eyes landed on the apple. It was green and looked delicious. He grabbed it and poised like he was about to take a bite.
Glancing over he noticed a smirk on her lips that hadn't been there the moment before.
He really didn’t think he had done anything funny, but as he got into position, he realized that his manhood had begun to salute the room.
That's just great. Well, at least she doesn't know who I am. He smiled a bit sheepishly, and willed his half erect member to return to flacid.
"Well, at least it's not cold in here," she said.
That voice! He knew that voice.
He pulled his head back, surveying her more closely- trim waist, gentle curves, average height...there was something about the way she held herself... and her hair certainly had been magically altered, as had her face but...Realization was dawning: could it be?
Just as he opened his mouth to speak the instructor stepped forward. “D, I think your prop is a bit damaged, eh? Let’s switch to the necklace....” She plucked the apple from his hand, moving to the woman next to him. “H, I like the feather but....yes!” Waving her wand she transfigured the feather to resemble that of a Phoenix.
“Fire and water - perfect for such opposing forces as yourselves, no? Male and female, Slytherin and Gryffindor?” She winked at them and returned to her seat.
"So much for anonymity," the woman muttered, swiping off the enchanted cloth. The playful face of one Hermione Granger saucily looked him up and down.
Outraged, Draco threw up his hands.
"One night!! One night was all I asked! You couldn't watch the kids and let me have this one night ?!"
The artists frantically tried to capture the emotion he moved with. Hermione leaned back, tilting her chin up at him in a challenge.
"What are you going to do about it?"
"How did you even beat me here?" he asked with just the slightest bit of jealousy creeping into his tone.
"A witch has her ways, my dear," she said as she eyed him from toes to nose drinking him in with a hunger he knew all too well.
He felt his member lurch and that smirk of hers was back again. Oh that smirk, he would launch a thousand ships for that smirk. He moved forward toward her, causing her to crane her neck up just a bit more. He smirked back, matching her heat.
He jerked in surprise as she grabbed the growing girth of him and smiled a dazzling and predatory smile, yanking the cloth away with her other hand. "Wanna wrap this up? I have plans for you at home," she growled low, letting him go so quickly that he stumbled back, aching from the sudden loss of the heat of her palm.
He nodded vigorously, watching her twitch off stage before she looked over her shoulder at him and said, "Your mother has the children."
With that last line he was scrambling after her like a dying man going for salvation.
They grabbed their cloaks off the rack and disapparated on the spot. Landing in their bedroom, their cloaks barely hit the floor before he began to ravage her lithe, sexy body.
Draco jerked awake with sweat on his brow.
"What the fuck was that? And with Granger?!"
He pondered for a moment on whether he would ever find out for sure if she had such a succulent body.
"Fuck it. Nispy! I need a quill, ink, and parchment."