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2017-09-05
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how to (accidentally seduce the dark lord)

Summary:

Heiress Jamie Potter wasn't sure who was more surprised when she randomly kissed Lord Slytherin—herself, the Dark Lord, or his Death Eaters.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Heiress Jamie Potter breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted the tall figure in front of her. The wizard’s black hair was tied back at his nape—a mark of a pureblood lord. Now she just had to pray to Merlin that he would do his lordly duty and protect her.

“This is all your fault, Sirius!” Jamie grumbled, even though it wasn’t technically true.

Yes, her cousin, Heir Sirius Black, dared her to sneak into Knockturn Alley and buy something. But it was Jamie’s own fault for being Gryffindor enough to perform such a fool-hearted act. She knew better. She did. Yet, here she was bustling through Knockturn Alley anyway.

The bag from Borgin and Burkes knocked against her side. Jamie had won the dare. Unfortunately, seven Death Eaters had come through the Floo as she completed her purchase. Her prize for completing the dare wasn’t going to be worth the trouble.

Once the Death Eater garb went on, the gentlemen lost their pureblood manners. On a normal day, Jamie could trust Heir Malfoy or Heir Lestrange or Heir Crouch with anything—no matter how sensitive. As soon as they donned the masks, though, nothing was safe anymore.

“Imbecile,” Jamie hissed at herself as she tightened her grip on her wand.

Normally, she knew she could handle most threats. Jamie was vicious with a wand, and she didn’t hold with dueling etiquette outside of a formal duel. She was the best duelist at Hogwarts; that wasn’t her ego talking. When the Slytherins traded favors and material goods for the opportunity to practice with her, she challenged anyone to say she wasn’t the best.

However, Jamie wasn’t prideful enough to think she could defeat seven Death Eaters on her own. She was, without a doubt, skilled with a wand. However, the Death Eaters were all purebloods. A fair chunk of them were heirs to Most Ancient families. Such positions came with excellent dueling tutors. Jamie could probably take four such wizards at once in a duel and still emerge victoriously. But not even the intense training schedule her father started her on at age eight would allow her to defeat seven simultaneously.

Not unless she was willing to resort to the type of curses that would get her arrested.

“Almost safe,” Jamie whispered as she hurried forward. 

Jamie had a second to hope that the pureblood lord she had caught up with wasn’t bonded—because what she was about to do would be unforgivable in that case—before she looped her arm through his. “Sorry to keep you waiting, darling. Burke’s service was especially inferior today,” Jamie said in her most posh voice. 

Then Jamie leaned up and kissed the wizard on the lips.

It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, how Jamie had imagined her first kiss happening. But some sacrifices were worth her life.

An amused hum echoed against her lips. Jamie glanced up into scarlet eyes and froze. Merlin above, she was kissing Lord Slytherin! She had grabbed a hold of and kissed the Dark Lord!

As if her actions had been an invitation, Marvolo Gaunt—the Dark Lord—wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as if she were already his bonded wife. He kissed with passionate, ravenous intent. As if he wanted to devour her whole.

Jamie trembled in his arms; her knees shook. If he hadn’t held her so obscenely tightly to his chest, she would have fallen to the ground.

A series of strangled gasps sounded behind her.

Cheeks hot, Jamie tore her lips away. She fisted her hands in Marvolo’s robes so that she wouldn’t slip bonelessly from his arms. Her heart beat faster than a Pegasus could fly. She didn’t need a mirror to know she was blushing as brightly as Evans’s hair.

A glance was all it took for her to calm slightly. The Death Eaters were kneeling on the cobblestones, their masks pointed toward the ground. They had no doubt glimpsed the incident, but it didn’t seem like they had shamelessly watched the entire encounter.

Thank Morgana for small favors.

“Apologies, my lord,” a Death Eater said. “If we had known she was your lady, we never would’ve dream—”

“You dare dream of my lady?” Marvolo asked in a dark, possessive tone of voice that caused a few of the kneeling Death Eaters to flinch.

The Death Eater that was just slightly in front of the other six bowed so low his mask touched the cobblestones of the alley floor. “We should not have instantly assumed she was on an errand for Dumbledore when we saw what she purcha—”

“Potters don’t run errands for anyone,” Jamie snapped before she could stop herself. “And we’re not allied with Dumbledore.”

Jamie hated it when people automatically assumed that all Gryffindors belonged to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. It was infuriating, to be honest. She wasn’t blind to how he favored all the other Houses over Slytherin. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise Jamie in the least if he attempted to take Lord Slytherin’s position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot in the next decade.

Neither she nor her father approved of the idea. 

Undoubtedly, Dumbledore would try to change several laws if he ever attained such a position. Their existing laws were established by King Arthur Pendragon himself. No Potter would ever support anyone attempting to defy the King’s will.

They would do whatever was necessary to block such maneuvering on Dumbledore’s part.

“We apologize for frightening you, my lady,” the Death Eater said. “Your purchase was clearly meant as a gift to our Lord, not a sly attempt to keep it from him. We acted in error. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Jamie bit out, before freezing. Had she really just given a command to a Death Eater as if she expected it to be obeyed? And in the Dark Lord’s presence! Was she trying to get herself killed?

“You will protect my lady with your life,” Marvolo ordered. His magic was thick and heavy in the air, as if he would smother them with it should they fail. 

“Yes, my Lord,” they chorused.

Marvolo waved them away. “Leave us.”

As the Death Eaters stood, Jamie thrust the shopping bag at Marvolo. She didn’t want a single one of the Death Eaters to assume she intended to keep the contents. Not when the book was apparently something they thought Dumbledore wanted far from Lord Slytherin’s reach. 

Marvolo’s lips curled in a wicked smirk, his magic emanating amusement as he opened the bag. When he pulled out the single tome inside, his magic stilled and his eyes widened. “Magick Moste Sacred by Salazar Slytherin,” he breathed in awe. “Darling, you give the most exquisite presents.”

What? It was…? Merlin, no wonder the Death Eaters assumed what they did. As his followers, they had likely seen Paselscript in person. Jamie never had. She had thought it was a book written in Olde Runes.

“I really do,” Jamie agreed. Even accidental ones, apparently.

When they were alone, Marvolo grasped her chin and tilted it up. He moved her face this way and that way, examining every inch of her as if she were an Abraxan he was looking to buy. “That was your first kiss, Heiress Potter?”

Her cheeks felt even hotter than before. “Yes, Lord Slytherin,” Jamie whispered. 

Soon enough, he would grow bored with her bravery and stupidity and let her go. Just like how the Death Eaters changed when they wore their garb, the Dark Lord never harmed an innocent when he was dressed in the robes and rank of Lord Slytherin.

“Oh?” 

When Marvolo kissed her this time, he licked his way into her mouth. Jamie collapsed against him and wanted to hate the way he smirked against her lips in response. But all she knew was that she needed to get away from him … even though all she wanted was to keep kissing him, even if it got her killed. 

His taste on her tongue was unlike anything she had experienced. And his magic brushing against hers was a sensation she would never forget as long as she lived. It was like standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, waiting to see if the lightning would strike.

“No one’s ever tasted you before?” Marvolo inquired after pulling back.

“No, my lord,” she whispered. Jamie was so overcome with uncharacteristic shyness that she could barely speak. She couldn’t even meet his eyes with false indignation for his manhandling. She was enjoying every second of it, and he was worldly enough to realize that.

Marvolo’s laughter was just like he was—deceitful. “Your father can expect the contract by owl this evening.”

What? Jamie barely dared to breathe at the implications. “My lord?”

“If you love your father, you’ll convince him to sign it,” he stated. 

Marvolo kissed Jamie a final time as his magic rubbed shamelessly against hers. It was the softest, gentlest, most tender kiss of all. Somehow, this was the kiss that terrified her. It felt like a dream, like love, like a lifetime of possibilities.

“I do not share—ever. I will not start with my lady.”

Marvolo stroked her hair and walked off before she could gather enough mental power to offer even a token response. She couldn’t remember feeling more rattled in her entire life. Jamie lifted a shaking hand to her chest and watched his robes disappear around the corner of a shop.

“What in Mordred’s name just happened?” she breathed.

Jamie didn’t know how long she stood in the middle of Knockturn Alley in shock, but it was long enough for Lucius Malfoy to appear beside her. Distantly, she realized that he must have been one of the Death Eaters from earlier. 

Lucius placed her arm atop his and said, “It will be my honor to escort you safely home, Heiress Potter.” 

“Thank you,” Jamie replied, barely aware of her surroundings. She followed his lead, mind abuzz with her shifting reality.

This was—Morgana, this meant— 

Jamie’s heart stuttered in her chest as she acknowledged what had to be done. Jamie had to return home to Potter Manor and inform her father—who had strictly forbidden her from participating in Courtship Dates until she was nineteen—that she had accidentally seduced the Dark Lord while escaping from seven Death Eaters.

And after the rage dimmed, Jamie knew exactly how Lord Charlus Potter would react. A devious smile that no Slytherin would ever believe a Gryffindor was capable of making would split his face. Then he would say, “The Dark Lord? Perfect. Well done, Jamie. It seems we’ll live, after all.”

Notes:

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