Title: Arms of His
Author: emm718
Word Count: 550
Prompt: Writer's Choice Arms
Number of Theme's Completed: 12:100
Rating: G
Characters: Your Mom and Jaclyn's Dad.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. At all. Thanks for reminding me.

Arms of His

Draco Malfoy always felt his arms had a higher purpose. A special duty other than connecting his broad shoulders to his long-fingered hands.

When he was younger and attended Hogwarts, he honestly believed they were for reaching further than Harry Potter for the snitch. Fast and striking, like a biting serpent. So powerful and sinewy; a true force to be reckoned with. Although he never once beat Potter to the prize in a match, Draco still had faith in his long, aristocratic and athletic appendages.

As a soldier of the Order in the second war of Light versus Dark, he supposed that his arms wielded the magic to fight Death Eaters. He could stretch his left arm, point the wooden conductor and wordlessly cast a strong curse with little effort. Maybe the magic was really in his heart and soul, but he liked to think it was not. Mostly because it helped him cope with the losses and grief he caused.

However, since he matured, he wondered if they were really nothing more than flesh, bone and blood. Simply another part of his anatomy.

And they were lonely.

Draco Malfoy was not lonely. Oh no. Just his arms. They no longer had use, and craved something to reach for. To have. To hold. A yearning that could hardly be explained. Strangely, they wanted one particular witch. One beautiful, bushy-headed, all-knowing witch. Hermione Granger.

Draco could not comprehend it at all. It was a burning need. A sharp tingle that ran through his veins, twisting, turning, and making his fingertips itch to have her. Stifling and choking, and he just knew if she would allow his arms to wrap around her supple, curvy, petite form, he could breathe again.

His arms were so desperate for her they nearly moved of their own accord. Awkwardly, much to his chagrin, because they caused him to act foolishly in her presence. He would knock over glasses, fall over knick-knacks, and make him appear altogether and completely absurd.

It became apparent that his arms would force him to do the one thing a Malfoy never did. Beg. Because merely asking Hermione Granger for something simple like a hug was silly and strange. Besides, he knew that his arms desired more of her than that. They wanted to hold on to her forever, and never let her go. Ever. 'Til death do they part.

So he told her all of this and more. He explained carefully that he needed her to hold, to be his little witch, his lover, but she had to treat him right. And he also stated at great length that he believed his arms were designed for the sole purpose of wrapping around her. For the rest of his life.

She studied him quietly. Her brown eyes large and critical, and she chewed on the left corner of her full bottom lip. Deciding, calculating, weighing the outcome. While his arms screamed impatiently for her to speak.

But she never did. Instead she smirked impishly, eyes suddenly dancing, sparkling, and threw her little, soft body at him, coming flush against his long frame, and she wrapped her warm loving arms tight around him.

His arms were finally satisfied. They fulfilled their destiny.

And Draco soon realized he needed her tender lips just as much.

A/N: Me lika da feedback. A lot. It's like sunshine on all my rainy days. Honest. Oh and Otis Redding's "These Arms of Mine" totally inspired this fic.