Though it's obvious, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if I did. I've deleted one of my other Hermione/Draco stories, and am in the process of deciding whether or not to delete the other. They don't represent myself very well, so I thought they weren't worth even finishing. This one, however, is a bit more of an accurate representation, so hopefully I won't fail you! Please review, I'm not picky about what is said. It's encouraging when I get reviews, makes me want to write more, so do be kind and leave a little contribution in the box!
Chapter One: Cleansing
Rain fell steadily, the blessedly cool drops of diamond shimmer beating deliciously against her smooth, ivory skin. A sharp gasp of pleasure escaped her plump lips of rose as the crystal drops slid down her body like the gentle caress of a lover, the water running through her hair likening unto fingertips tangling in the chocolate tresses. Lingering beads of this delight, kissed her lips gently, oh so tenderly.
Her knees buckled, her hands trembled. The ground met her with chilled arms, cradling her with a soft embrace. Thunder rolled in the distance and in the chasm of her mind, sending her heart into a frantic race. The pure glory of the storm consumed her. The glory of her memories consumed her. The wretched need for cleansing consumed her.
"Take me…" the words were snatched away by the bitter wind, sucked into the black clouds above. She was ready, completely willing, nay, eager for what was to come, no matter her fear.
She felt, rather than heard his approach. Her eyes flickered open, a flash of brilliant gold, gazing at him with abhorrence, and yet, affection. "Take me," the words rushing out before she could stop them.
No…this is wrong…it's not supposed to happen this way… The thought was too late. It flitted through her mind a second too late. Too late…
The tempest answered her demand to be taken with a brilliant flash of lightening and a cold hand upon her wrist.
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He'd seen her throw her deep red cloak around her thin shoulders, gold eyes darting about for those who would arrest her mission. A smirk painted his lips, playing mischievously in glints of charcoal in his silver eyes. He would have his fun.
She'd slipped out; he slid down the stairs. He followed her, darting from shadow to shadow, the only noise being the faint rasp of her cloak against stone, and her breath stealing in and out of those lips. She reached the doors that called to her, pulling one open without the slightest creak and fled into the open where it rained most sorrowfully.
He slithered silently through the gap before it had time to close and found a place in the shadow of a statue, shielding himself from view with its massive granite shape. He watched as she stood in the rain, face upturned, eyes closed, reveling in the purification. She collapsed to her knees, arms open, palms up. Alabaster white skin was drenched and he found his fingers itching to feel the slick silk of her beneath them.
He approached her silently; drawn by a force he couldn't possibly resist, nor recognize if he wanted to. Reaching out to touch her, his hand skimmed above her flesh, never quite touching. Warm, moist breath stroked his fingers, paused above her parted lips. They moved, her voice lost to his ears on the wind.
Trailing down her throat, his hands moved to her arms. He looked to her face. Gold. Eyes open, lips moving.
"Take me…"
He took her.