Hermione felt the hand on her thigh leave warmth in its path. She pressed her back into the hard body behind her and rolled her head back until it rested on his shoulder.
"We can't keep doing this to ourselves," he breathed in her ear. She knew that she had promised herself that the last time would be just that, the last time. Deep in her heart she knew that he was an addiction that she couldn't sate. He was constantly there in the back of her mind, and whenever she thought of him too much her heart would wrench with agony.
"I know," she whispered as she reached her hand around to hold the side of his jaw. Gently, her eyes fluttered open and she was drowning in a vast sea of grey. Even when he wasn't touching her she felt as if he was wrapped all around her, and the worst part was that he was willing to let her go if she had desired him to.
She felt herself leaning farther into his embrace and before she knew it his lips were placed against hers. There was no fight for dominance and no need to rush. They both had all the time in the world, and they took it with ease. Her lips slid against his, and his to hers. The hand that was on her thigh had found itself wound in her hair, and the other was holding her waist in place. All she could do with her hands was hold on to his shoulders for dear life.
She broke away with reluctance. "This is the last time. You're getting married tomorrow and you know I would never be the other woman," Hermione said against his lips, her voice quivering with the emotions she felt. He let his lips fall against hers as he kissed her with extraordinary passion. When he broke away she could hardly breathe.
"You will never be the other woman, do you hear me, Hermione? Never. Even when I'm married to her you will always be with me." He grabbed her hand and put it where his heart would be. "In here. There will never be anyone else who will hold your place there." He said and rested his forehead against hers. "She will never replace you. I love you, do you get that Hermione?"
She felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks as she nodded her head slowly. Even when Hermione was an old woman starting to lose her mind she would never forget this moment and the love that she had felt then.
There are two types of love. A fast, desperate love where you are so lonely, and have been without love for so long that you will take anything that comes your way. It could be love with a stranger while having sex, or the love you feel for someone you could never have, but desperately want. There is another love that is so pure, so real that makes people die from heartbreak when they lose sight of it. This love encircles your heart and soul, and it leaves an imprint that will be with you forever. The love makes you cry with relief when you know the other person is okay, or with happiness, and it could make you cry for years with the love you had lost.
Hermione Granger knew that this love she felt would be with her forever, and she could never love anyone more then how much she loved him. Still, being young and naive, she thought that being with him one last time and saying goodbye would make up for the pain that she knew would take her over afterwards.
She pressed her lips against his again, and this time she knew that they were going to do this slow, so that they could remember every move, every thought, and every feeling afterwards. The deep green room was lit dimly by the lighted torches against the walls, and the large canopy bed was placed against a large window that reflected the snow from the night sky and it looked like tiny stars were splattered against the dark bedsheets. Hermione felt herself being lifted by her thighs and moved towards the bed. He slowly set her down and started unbuttoning his white dress shirt. A pale torso came into view, and Hermione traced every muscle, and every line with her fingertips as she memorized his body. He had just stared down at her while she did this with love in his eyes. When she had reached the path of hair going down to his manhood he took a sharp intake of breath as she followed it. She stared up at him as she unzipped his pants and pulled down both his trousers and boxers.
He was already ready for her, and she was just as ready for him. He kneeled in between her legs and sat her up so that he could undo the buttons on the back of her dress. The irony of it all was that hours before they were at his wedding rehearsal and Hermione was one of the bridesmaids. She felt his breathing on her neck while he caressed her back after undoing every button. Her fingers played with the light-blonde hair on the top of his neck and everything about that moment made her so relaxed that she could have fallen asleep if this wasn't the last time they would ever be together.
When he had reached the last button she lifted her hips as he slid the satin red dress down her body. When the dress was thrown to the floor all that was left of the outfit was the matching white lace bra and panties and the white high heels that she had bought many years before. After he had removed the remaining clothing he brought one of her legs up with the remaining heel on her foot and placed it over his shoulder. "Just like the first time. Do you remember, Hermione?" He whispered placing butterfly kisses on her thigh. She shivered at the memory of their first time together.
It was the ball celebrating the one year ending of the war. He was pardoned due to being underage, and over that year Hermione learned to forgive and forget. The year helped her heal from every injury she sustained, and every tragic loss that had occurred. Somehow his name came up in her mind one too many times for her liking and the more she thought about him the more she forgave him. She had recently broken up with Ron, and was sitting in a chair watching all the other couples dance. Hermione had really felt down about herself, and thought that she could never be happy again. She had her palm in her chin and her elbow on her knee and swayed to a classic song that the band was playing. Her long hair had eased of the frizziness it once held and was falling down her back. Mid-song she felt someone tap her shoulder.
A tall man dressed in rich dress robes was standing behind her. "Well, I have no one to dance with, and it looks like you have no one to dance with, so why not dance together then?" At first she didn't recognize him. He had short blonde hair, and his skin was light, but had a slight tan to it. When she reached his sly grin and sparkling grey eyes she almost said no, but the way he was smiling threw her off. His smile, his whole demeanor radiated happiness. She sighed to herself as she stood up and accepted his arm.
They had danced all night. They talked about the war and what they were doing with their lives. She had completely dismissed the heartbreak she felt before, and was now gliding across the floor in his arms. She had forgotten how little she had laughed before that night, and she felt free.
That night he took her back to his house, and they made love. Just like they were doing currently. He had placed her leg over his shoulder just like he was doing now. "I remember." She sighed and laid her head back to stare out at the falling snow. He took his time kissing down her thigh, and finally rested himself between her curls.
"I love you." He said over and over as he moved in and out of her. He held her back to better the angle as he rocked. He didn't go fast, or too slow. He made it last. He made sure she would remember every thrust, and every inch of him entering her. After what seemed like forever Hermione finally came calling out his name. She was shivering in the aftermath when he came inside of her still whispering how he loved her, and how he would always love her.
Hours later Hermione woke up to a dark room and a solid body behind her. She sighed and relaxed into it. She looked the room over once more before she felt herself crying again. This time she felt numb, and she knew that she couldn't make the tears stop. She wiped her eyes and took hold on his wrist to remove it from her waist. The first time she tried he only held on tighter which made her cry harder. The second time she forced it off of her as she sat up to move to the side of the bed as fast as she could. The tears were coming faster as she turned her head to make sure he was still asleep. The light made his eyelashes look infinite as they shadowed across his face. She breathed a sigh of relief and replaced her clothing. She took a deep breath and stood to leave.
Hermione Granger was a strong woman, and she always would be. Even with a broken heart she would always stand for what was right, and nothing would stop her from living her dreams. She heard the soft breathing from behind her and reality sank into her heart.
Her breath caught in her throat as she sank to her knees, the dress pooling around her. She quietly sobbed as memories came rushing into her mind. This really was the last time. She could not make false promises to herself about it being the last time. This was it. He was not her friend, and she had forgiven him years ago, so she didn't know what he was to her.
The one thing she knew was that she needed him like water, or air, or the gravity that keeps us all alive.
When the tears had dried and the sun had begun to rise she got to her feet and made sure she didn't have an excuse to come back here if she left something. Hermione walked to the fireplace in the corner and picked up a small handful of Floo powder. She turned around and faced a sleeping man on the bed. The morning light made his hair look golden, and his skin shine.
"I love you, Draco Malfoy," she whispered before throwing down the powder and leaving him forever behind.
There is a slight possibility that I could write another chapter. There may/ may not be a happy ending for them. There are so many problems with them being together that there is not always a happy ending in relationships this difficult. Thank you for the reviews!
The dress Hermione wore to the wedding rehearsal is up on my profile.