Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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31st March 2015 18:15 - Fic: Evidence In Camera (Barty Crouch Jr/Cornelius Fudge NC17)
Title: The Trial of Lucius Malfoy: Evidence in Camera
Author: [info]inamac
Characters/Pairings: Barty Crouch Jr/Cornelius Fudge
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: previously-untold aspects of a canon event
Other Warnings: blowjob
Word Count: 1000
Summary/Description: Lucius Malfoy witnesses more than he expected in the Top Box at the Quidditch World Cup.
Author's Notes: I love exploring odd bits of canon, so this prompt was a dream. And I had fun doing the research on the logistics of the events at the Quidditch World Cup which we see only through Harry's eyes, when almost everyone else saw so much more. Thanks to the mods for this prompt – Happy Birthday DD!

Evidence In Camera

My little transaction with Cornelius at the Ministry? There were so many. But I can assure you that it had nothing to do with Potter, or with the... with Voldemort. Or at least only peripherally. It was the payment of a small favour. It is always useful to have a hold over a ministry official, particularly one who has real power and influence. I have in the past gone to great trouble to secure such a hold. But in the case of Cornelius it fell, you might say, into my lap. Or, more precisely, into his lap. Onto his cock in fact.

Where to begin? I have explained elsewhere that I did not attend the Quidditch World Cup solely to watch the match. One does not drag ones family pavilion out of mothballs and transport it halfway across the country just for a game. I had business to conduct with certain... persons... which had nothing to do with the Death Eaters, or with the Minister (at least, not our Minister – my business on that occasion was with the Bulgarian delegation), or with Mister Potter and his friends. It is no secret that I was surprised to find them in the top box, since I was unwary enough to make my astonishment known, though Fudge did not appear to notice. Fortunately I did not long have to endure their uncivil language (I assume that 'git' is not a term of approbation), before Bagman arrived to begin the festivities.

The moment that I realised that the Bulgarian mascots were Veela, having no wish to be enchanted against my will, I put my personal Omnioculars, which are charmed to eliminate all forms of glamour, to my eyes. (I spent too long under the Imperius curse not to arm myself with every protection against a repeat.) What I observed through them fascinated me every bit as much as the Veela were enthralling the Weasleys and their friends.

The seat directly in front of me was not, as I had supposed, empty. A man sat there, leaning slightly forward to watch the swirling mascots. He must have been wearing an invisibility cloak which my charmed glasses penetrated easily. I was not entirely surprised that he had come cloaked, for I recognised the lightly freckled face, the straw-coloured hair and the pale skin, though it was whiter than I recalled, and he seemed much, much older than the boy who had served the Dark Lord so fervently some fifteen years earlier. It was young Barty Crouch, who was supposed to have died in Azkaban, but whose love of quidditch had apparently caused him to rise from the grave.

Whatever magic had resurrected him, he was not proof against the charms of the Veela. He was aroused, tongue working between his lips, eyes bright with passion. I glanced around at my fellow box members. The boys were leaning over the rail, eager but clueless. I saw Narcissa flick her wand and Draco drew back, protected from the glamour, to smile with distain at his classmates who were not so fortunate. The Bulgarian Minister had obviously known what was coming and was, like Miss Granger, sitting back engaged in reading his programme. Bagman was occupied in preparing his speech. But Fudge...

Fudge was completely enthralled. He had his robe open and his hand was working at the drawstring of his drawers. His intention was clear, but he was forestalled by young Barty's action. Still under cover of his invisibility cloak he slipped from his seat and knelt before Fudge. As the Minister finally released his member from its confinement Barty's tongue flicked out, licked the head and then, before Fudge could move his own hand to perform the task, the youth tilted back his head, opened his mouth, and enveloped the Minister's cock; tongue and throat working to further engorge the eager flesh.

I confess that I very nearly swallowed my own tongue in surprise. And then I adjusted my omnioculars and settled back to watch a performance that was much more interesting than the one I had paid to see. And much better value.

Fudge's face looked beatific. He must have thought his prayers answered, all his wishes come true at once. He thrust into the warmth, hands gripping the rail on either side of Barty's head for leverage and support.

Veela glamour is good, but not that good. In a few seconds Fudge would realise what was happening and then all hell would be let loose. And that would be in no ones interest. Besides, I was having almost as much fun watching the participants as they were. I murmured a small spell of my own devising (used mainly for smoothing my business deals, I had never considered employing it for this sort of thing before), and saw Fudge's expression glaze, lost in the moment and with no thought of questioning the source of his enjoyment.

Young Barty mush have sensed my intervention. His eyes briefly met mine through the lenses of the omnoculars. I recognised the hatred in them. He had gone to his fate raging against the Death Eaters who walked free, and I have no doubt that he counted me in the company, though there was nothing that he could do here, wandless and with the Minister's cock in his mouth.

And then the music which accompanied the Veela's dance rose to a crescendo. Fudge jerked and Barty swallowed, and there was a roar from the crowd that drowned the sound of their climax as the Veela swirled away and settled at the side of the pitch. With them went the glamour. I lowered my glasses, banishing young Crouch from my sight, and watched with some amusement as Fudge rearranged his clothing and glanced around, reassuring himself that no one had seen his undoing in the general confusion of the Veela display. I caught his eye and smiled. There would be time enough later to capitalise on my new knowledge. And I resolved to keep an eye on young Crouch too, though in the event that proved impossible, and my downfall.

Why yes, of course I have evidence. I believe I mentioned that I adjusted my personal omnioculars, which are custom made, at a crucial point? Of course they have all the relevant functions. Including record. And replay.

Fin.
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