Disclainer: JK Rowling owns all. Even Rabastan but as she does not like Slytherins I am hoping she will lend some out to me... lol.

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Rabastan Lestrange

Triggers: Public Sex. Enemy Sex. Sex.

WAR CRY

"We shouldn't be doing this!" Hermione hissed.

The wizard smirked as he guided her small hand to his crotch. "Tell it to my friend here."

Shocked by the size, she rubbed the trapped bulge.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," the tone teased and excited her, NOT sorry at all that he was pressed against her.

"We're in a middle of a bloody battle and you're a Death Eater!"

The sea green eyes sparkled merrily, shoulder length raven hair swept down the Wizards back. Hermione subconsciously twirled the strands between her fingers.

"Again," he murmured huskily. his lips latched onto some exposed flesh. "Your point is?"

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest. Adrenalin pumped through her body, landing in her core, dampening her knickers. The wizard growled as the scent wafted up to his sensitive nostrils.

"I'm a Mud..." quickly she found the objection blocked by a hot, searing, tongue-tangling kiss that knocked her knees and curled her toes. The wizard used the distraction wisely, sneaking her school robes up over her hips.

"All I see is a woman who little Lestrange likes."

"Rod..." she gulped.

She had an inkling of her captor but it did not figure until now. Still somewhat stunned she was in an alcove with a stranger ravishing her. Truthfully, Hermione was too turned on by the idea of sleeping with the enemy that she did not object and now she was faced with a lusty wizard who was married too...

Hermione glanced up. Mirthful eyes twinkled playfully: "Wrong brother!"

He used his wand to divest them of clothes. Hands immediately zoned in on her breasts like they were the iron draw to his magnet.

"Y-you're Rabastan?" she whimpered. Talented lips latched on her pebbled teat. "This isn't..." she rolled her head back and allowed him to feast on her breast.

"You have no idea how much I've lusted after you, witch!"

With that Hermione's paper thin resolve dissipated. She felt her legs lifted and curled around strong hips. By the feel of his length along her seam she had a pretty good guess to his statement. Not even bothering to ask if she was ready he violently thrust into her, causing her to scream and claw at his taut buttocks – digging her nails into the soft flesh – drawing blood. His shark-like grin was all Hermione could make out. His mouth trapped hers again in a passionate kiss. He thrust deeper into her, bringing her to another high.

"Like that!" was all the usually erudite witch could say.

"I'm not finished yet, witch!" he exclaimed.

He pushed, thrusting into her as hard as he was sure she could take it. Moans, mewls, growls and snarls of amour were left unnoticed as the battle around them grew louder.

"RABASTAN!" she yelled as she climaxed.

He bit into her neck, tasting her blood: "Yes, and don't forget it, dear!"

He withdrew – incisors dripping with blood.

AN: This was in response to a drabble game, just for fun, for Smut Saturday on Hermione's Haven a Hermione-Centric Facebook Page.