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In Draco’s private box, his wife and mother sat to watch him play. At least, that was the impression they wished to give to the partially-obscured crowd.

“Mummy, don’t,” Astoria whimpered as Narcissa’s hand snuck under her skirt. Narcissa’s fingers stilled, watching the younger woman carefully.

“Do you remember your safe word, little one?”

She nodded, coyly chewing her lip.

Narcissa moved her hand testingly, fingertips just brushing against Astoria’s labia through the already damp material of her knickers. Aside from a soft gasp, she stayed silent.

“Watch the game, sweetheart. Lest they notice,” Narcissa whispered, fingers slipping past elastic.