OK. Here we go again. Finally came up with another fanfic and it's not Inuyasha (go figure). First off, this is a MATURE fanfic. I will be writing detailed sex scenes, I will be using strong language. I believe if you are reading fanfics and are sorting under M you are looking for more mature stuff so read at your own discretion. The characters in this fic will have having sex or sexual situations in EVERY chapter if I can help it. I got a fair amount of threats last time I tried to write a fic because my scenes were 'too raunchy'. Guess what? Sex is raunchy sometimes. It's passionate, it's intense, and sometimes it's just plain dark. With that said, YOU HAVE BEEN FOREWARNED. So I don't want to read a review later saying "I'm going to report you", "I'm a good Christian and shouldn't be subjected to this filth" (yep that was one of my previous reviews), etc. You are all old enough to know was M means. If, by some miracle, your delicate constitutions have not been marred too much with my disclaimer, feel free to proceed.
" You fucking prick," she said aloud, "You went to a place where I cannot follow. You left me here alone. How will I piece this back together?"
She was standing looking at a large stone, completely alone. The others had left over two hours ago to give her space and to prepare for the other service. Adorned in black, a dark veil covering her tear streaked face. He had left her, departed to a place where she could not find him, and where she was not prepared to go. They had only been married a few short days; he left with Harry on an Auror assignment, and both were found dead the next morning. She had lost them both after everything, everything they had been through together, and they were gone. Hermione blotted her eyes with a black handkerchief, putting it back in her beaded bag and turned away, leaving her husband Ronald lying in the cold ground. His tombstone was beside his brother, Fred, hopefully they found each other in the beyond.
Leaving the modest graveyard, she Apparated to Godric's Hollow to attend her best friend's service and funeral. She stood silently during the service at the back of the small church. The other Weasleys where at the front, surrounding his casket, as they had done with Ron. She felt as though she was encroaching on their compounded grief. So soon after Fred, they had lost Ron, and their adopted son, Harry. After the service, the congregation was moved outside so Harry could be laid to rest beside his parents. Again, after the others had left, she stayed behind, unable to move from her place.
"Hey," a voice said, stepping up beside her.
"Hey, Malfoy," Hermione replied mutely. Not looking at the source of the voice. "Didn't think you'd be here."
"I didn't like Potter, but I respected him. It wouldn't do to not pay my final respects," the man said after a pause. "You holding up?"
She laughed bitterly. "The ink wasn't dry on our marriage parchment and they both run off to find some Death Eaters. Next thing I know, my new husband and best friend are dead. How are you?"
"Oh you know, dealing with the aftermath of the war, my Father is still in Azkaban, he already received the Kiss from the Dementors. My Mother is abroad, recovering. Last I heard she was in Greece. No idea when she will be back. I've moved from the Manor, can't be there anymore. Not after all that happened there, you understand," he said like letting loose a puff of air.
"Oh yes, I can't imagine walking over that threshold again." nodding at his reply. Unconsciously, touching her 'Mudblood' scar.
"Want to get out of here? Or would you rather follow them?" he said.
"Yea, let's go. I'm not keen on entering the mausoleum of the Burrow just yet." Hermione replied. And the pair turned to leave, but she looked back at Harry's tombstone saying softly, "Bye Harry."
A little while later, Hermione and Malfoy were sitting side by side in a muggle pub. Both held up a shot of whiskey murmuring "To Harry and Ron" and downing the shot. Not much was said between the two, both seemed lost in their own thoughts.
"Talk," Hermione finally said, looking at her once mortal enemy.
"What do you want me to say?" Draco said returning her gaze. "Do you want me to say that I'm fine? I'm just so fucking peachy dealing with the Ministry's constant investigations in all the Malfoy estates? How I'm condemned to the life of a pariah in my world? How nearly all my friends have either abandoned me or are in Azkaban awaiting the Kiss for their crimes for him! For fucks sake Granger, we are just sitting here drinking and wallowing in our own separate grief, be content with that and don't drag me down in your new found widow-hood."
She winced at 'widow-hood' but nodded in reply. She was a widow now, the word seemed alien to her. It still had not sunk in that tomorrow morning she would need to move the rest of her things from the Burrow. Her and Ron still had not found their own place yet and were staying at the Burrow until he returned from the mission. She had been so excited to find their own flat in London, close to the Ministry for both their jobs.
"Bartender? Another round please?" she said after a few moments of brooding thoughts.
Draco gave her a small of smiles. She thanked the bartender when he returned with their shots.
"To misery," she said holding the shot out and clinking with his glass, "And the company."
"To misery" he replied, draining his shot glass.
They sat for hours, not speaking except to order more beers or shots from the bartender. They paid, and exited the pub, and went their separate ways.
Hermione returned to the Burrow, entered through the garden door and ascended the stairs thankfully not running into anyone. She opened the door to Ron's old bedroom, sucked in a breath, closed the door quickly and sank to the floor trying desperately not to sob. She couldn't be here, not yet, too many memories.
"Hermione?" a familiar voice said, "What happened?"
"Ginny, I can't be here right now, everything is too fresh, I can't sleep in there." Hermione said tears staining her face.
"Where are you going to go?" Ginny asked. "To your parents?"
That made her lose what composure she had left. Sobs wracked her frame. "I-I can't g-g-go there! They-they still d-don't know me! My spell was too-too strong an I c-can't undo it now."
"Oh sweetheart," Ginny said sounding cold, "Then get out."
"W-What?" Hermione said looking up at her sister-in-law.
"We lost Ron, he was the only one of us that wanted you here. You aren't one of us. Get out," Ginny said standing above her.
"Ginny, I don't understand. I'm your sister." Hermione said in disbelief.
"You were the sister in law" she replied darkly. "Don't think for one second I ever believed you part of my family. We tolerated you for my brother's sake. And now my brother is dead, he didn't even have time to write a will so whatever he had comes back to us. You get nothing. Get your shit and get the fuck out of our house."
Hermione stared, shocked at her supposed sister. She rose uncertainly and met Ginny's eyes, understanding that the younger woman was completely serious in her statements. Hermione moved around her and descended the stairs shakily, exited the home. She apparated to London near the Leaky Cauldron and entered through the door. Making her way to the bar, she asked if there were any rooms available, and was told that there were not. Exasperated, she turned and looked about the pub franticly. Her eyes say platinum blonde hair in a far corner. She made her way over to the table he sat at alone.
"Hey," she said as she approached the table. Placing her beaded bag down in a defeated manner on the top and standing beside him.
"Look I told them all before they can go eat a-" Draco started to say before finally looking up at the source of the voice. "You again?" he said somewhat softly. "Bloody hell, what happened?" Taking in her distraught figure.
"The Weasleys kicked me out. Turns out they only tolerated me for the sake of Ron. Now he's gone and they can show me the disdain they had harbored all these years." she said hotly. "So now I'm trying to find a place to stay, and here is full up for the night."
"Fuck." he said after blinking a few times at her, processing the information. "Didn't think the Weasley's would behave this terribly. And so soon after, well you know."
"I don't know what to do," she said trying to keep her composure and feeling her sanity starting to crack.
"Come on," he said after draining his glass and starting to stand. "You can crash on my couch tonight."
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose," she said looking at him rising.
"Do you want a place to sleep or not?" he spat quickly.
"Yes" Hermione said softly. Grabbing her bag.
"Then come on," Draco stated. Leading the way through the half empty pub, towards the back leading towards Diagon Alley. He took his wand out and tapped the correct bricks to open the passageway. And took off, walking briskly along the empty, darkened streets. She followed and had to jog a few steps to catch up to him, and matched his stride. He led her down a darkened alley close to Knockturn Alley, approached a small door, fumbled with his keys to open the door and held it for her to go in first.
Hermione entered the darkened foyer and waited for her host to enter behind her. He used a nonverbal spell to light the lamps around them and held out an arm towards the stairs to let her know she had to go up. She ascended the stairs, holding onto the banister and her sanity. On the landing Draco lightly placed a hand on the small of her back to lead her to the spare bedroom. Again, lighting the lamps with a nonverbal spell, he let her enter first.
"That doesn't look like a couch," she said observing the large four-post bed suddenly awkward.
"Didn't want you to be uncomfortable," he said nonchalantly. He turned and started to close the door, "Night."
"Thank you, Draco." Hermione said to his back.
He nodded at her before closing the door. Draco slightly smiled to himself, thinking somewhat bitterly, that was the first time she had ever used his first name.
Hermione looked about her and took in her surroundings. On either side of the four-post bed there were dark cherry nightstands. Aside the window, which was artfully draped in dark crimson curtains, was a dark cherry wash table with an elegant ivory colored bowel and water jug. She approached the wash table and set to washing her face and refreshing herself from the overwhelming emotions of the day. She reached into her beaded bag and pulled out a cream nightgown. She set herself to undressing from her funeral outfit. She took of her black pumps, carefully removed her thigh high stockings, and reached behind her to pull the zipper of her knee length black dress and couldn't for the life of her get it to pull down. She grew more and more agitated trying to move the zipper she stomped out of her room and knocked on the door of what she assumed was Draco's bedroom.
"What?" he said slightly surprised to see her.
"Odd request. Can you help me with this? I can't get the fucking zipper down."
He looked at her quizzically for a moment, and then nodded. She turned her back to him and moved her hair to the side to allow him access to the zipper. He noted that her hair wasn't as bushy as he had remembered it during their school days. He also noted that her hair and skin smelled rather good. Feeling along the top of the dress, trying to locate the zipper, and a little slowly pulled it down. He half noted that she had a black lace bra on and half wondered if the underwear matched. Half happily the zipper ended just above her lower back and more than half happily he noticed the black lace top of a, thong?
"Done," Draco said to her back, her pale skin contrasting so starkly with the black of her garments. He half wondered if her skin felt as smooth as it looked. "Anything else you need?"
"No. Thanks. Night. And sorry for bothering you again," she said softly, not turning to face him, her hand holding the fabric of her dress to her chest. She retreated to the guest room again and closed the door without looking back at him.
Draco stood in his doorway, bemused for a few moments. Thinking to himself, 'This is going to be interesting'.
Hermione stood with her back to the door, still holding her dress to her chest, and tried to calm her heartbeat. Why had she done that? Asking him to help her with her dress? 'Well,' she mused, 'Ron used to help you and now you don't have him.' She covered her mouth with her free hand and choked a sob, sinking again to the floor; she lost herself in her grief. Her whole frame shook and she sobbed, she had lost everything, her parents, her husband, her best friend, and her husbands' family. Along with all the loss she had suffered during the war. She was totally alone in the world now, and that frightened her.
Finally, after it felt like hours, she rose from the floor, letting the dress fall to the floor. She padded over to the bed where she had left her nightgown, stripped off her thong and bra and pulled her nightgown over her head. She pulled the thick duvet down, climbing into the bed and settled herself down, closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep.
Draco had heard her sobs from across the landing and quietly moved to kneel in front of her door. He felt childish peeking through the old keyhole of the room his guest was in but he couldn't exactly knock and ask her what was wrong. He knew what was wrong, but could not bring himself to impose on her grief. He listened to her sobs and felt his heart tug for her. He waited for her to stop and was planning on moving back to his own room when he saw her rise. She still held the dress to her chest, her back still exposed. He gulped slowly as he watched the dress fall to the floor and she moved so gracefully to the bed. He felt his loins start to stiffen as he took in her figure; she had filled out since he had last seen her. She had soft curves, elegantly long legs, and finally tamed that mess of hair. He nearly lost himself when she removed her thong, no hair to hide her delicate folds from his gaze. She removed her bra next, creamy soft breasts with pale pink nipples.
He scolded himself for starting to fantasize about taking one of those breasts in his mouth and dancing his fingers across her pale skin to delve into her sex, tasting her, exploring her, kissing her, feeling her writhe beneath him, begging him, gasping in his ear as he grinded into her, screaming his name has she rode her orgasm. He looked down to his pajama pants and saw he was hard, with one more glance through the keyhole, he saw she had already re dressed in a nightgown that stopped just below her well formed ass and was climbing into bed. He rose silently and retreated back to his own room to take care of what his own fantasies had caused.
Draco moved through his room and went to his adjoining bathroom. Undressing quickly, but taking care of his still hard dick. He stepped into his walk in shower and started the hot water. Leaning against the wall letting the water steam up around him, he takes his dick in his hand and slowly pumps himself up and down; his eyes roll back as he starts fantasizing about her again. She would be on her knees, jerking him off, her mouth taking him slowly, deliciously, and agonizingly slow into her mouth. Using her tongue to make him pant, gently putting his hands on either side of her head. She would increase her speed of her ministrations, fondling his balls as she worked. He would tighten his grip on her head, tangling his fingers into her soft hair. He arched his back away the shower wall, his head moving back against the wall hard, he groaned as he spilled his seed against the tiles of the shower floor, the water quickly washing it away. His intense orgasm still pulsing, he relaxed his arching back against the wall, panting heavily and huskily, and started to wash himself off.
"Interesting indeed," Draco mused to himself as he dressed again for bed.