A/N: This is part two of Unfaithul I suppose. It was unplanned, but they tie together so, if you haven't read Unfaithful, it is a good idea to. Obviously, I'm still stuck on chapter 5 of Surveillance, and until I get it just as I want it…I'll probably be sending out these random one shots. Please review, it makes my day!
Warning: This story contains scenes of a sexual nature…
Still Unfaithful
Hermione felt guilty about her affair with her husband's last remaining enemy. Voldemort was dead, Snape was dead, but Draco had managed to escape prosecution and Azkaban at the end of the war. When it came down to it, no one could prove Draco was affiliated with Voldemort, especially since he didn't have a Dark Mark, so he was free to go. He was free to live, and free to remain inconceivably wealthy, but Harry hated him. And for that, Hermione felt guilty.
But not guilty enough to end their affair. Having an affair made her feel naughty, but having an affair with Draco Malfoy made her feel down right roguish... and she loved it. No one expected Hermione Granger-Potter to cheat on her husband. No, Mrs. Potter was strict yet sweet, dedicated yet fun-loving, and she always did the right thing. Which was why she married Harry in the first place. No mistake, she definitely loved him, she would kill for him, but she wasn't sure if she was in love with him.
She was sure that she was in love with Draco Malfoy, him, she would die for. She had been for years, since sixth year at Hogwart's to be exact. Again, no mistake, they were very, very reluctant lovers. They nearly killed each other on prefects' rounds. But, slowly she began to realize that although he was egotistical, whiny, and conceited; he was witty, and funny in a sarcastic I'm-insulting-you-but-you're-so-dumb-you-don't-even-realize sort of way, and highly possessive. Probably came from being a spoiled only child, she scoffed at that even now.
At the time she dared not mention her affections for him. She refused to become another chit in his loyal band of swooning followers, each vying for a chance to win the heart of Draco Malfoy. Perhaps a chance to be the one that he would only have eyes for. No, that was not Hermione Granger. Instead she remained as indignant and as unfazed as humanly possible.
Slowly though, threats of death waned and the 'M' word desisted altogether. And finally, one night during rounds before Christmas break, Hermione got the courage to ask him a question that had bothered her for weeks. After all she was full of that Gryffindor courage…
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"Malfoy…"
He kept walking; his robes billowed behind him as if he were marching forward into a steady breeze.
"Malfoy!"
"You don't actually think I'm going to stop just because you want my attention do you?" His pace did slow, and Hermione caught up with him, having to run a few steps to keep up with his long stride. "What do you want?"
"I need to ask you a question…"
"And?"
"And I need you to be honest with me."
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right."
Hermione silently pouted. The minutes passed awfully slow as they were nearing the end of their rounds. He sighed in annoyance and stopped finally.
Hermione was staring at the floor, lost in thought behind him when he suddenly stopped. She almost bumped into him.
"Ask your question Granger, I don't have all night."
She looked up at him silently debating whether she wanted to ask it now that he wanted her to. Curiosity won. "Well, I want to know why you don't call me, you know, the 'M' word anymore?" She looked him straight in the eye for what she realized was the first time.
They were slate gray, she noticed, and unreadable. He quirked an eyebrow at her and continued to walk without answering her question.
"Malfoy, I-"
"I'm thinking!"
It was Hermione's turn to raise an eyebrow. Thinking? Was the answer really that deep? Perhaps he was just dodging the question. That sounded more like the truth.
He stopped again and turned to face her. "I don't know," he shrugged.
"You don't know?"
"Are you deaf? I'm not going to repeat myself. Besides, why don't you insult me anymore?" He folded his arms over his chest, apparently he had just issued some sort of challenge.
"Well," Hermione began slowly, "I only used verbal insults as self defense. As of late, I don't feel the need to defend my self against you." She held her wand in two hands in front of her, just to have something to do with her hands. She suddenly felt fidgety, and Hermione Granger did not fidget.
"Oh," he said and resumed walking.
She kept an eye on him, just incase he decided to stop suddenly again. He wore all black and a dark green belt. She did notice that he always managed to wear green everyday in some form. And though it was the end of the night, his clothes were as neatly pressed as they likely were when he put them on that morning. He walked with his shoulders back, as if he owned the corridor. As proudly as he held his shoulders, one would think he was much larger than he actually was.
Although, he was taller than Hermione, he was still shorter than Ron by a long shot. Even Harry may have had an inch or two on him. He was very slim, and his build was sinewy, as opposed to the bulkiness of his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
He did stop again. "Do you like being called a Mudblood?" he asked suddenly. His face was serious, as if he had been trying to work this out in his head.
"Er-no. I was just--"
"Because if that's what you want, I don't mind." His words were laced with smugness.
"Do you like being a ferret? Because I learned a thing or two from watching that Moody imposter."
"Touche Granger. To answer your question, honestly, I really don't know. I only realized I wasn't doing it when you brought it up." He looked at her as if to daring her to argue.
"Oh," she said.
"Why did you want to know that?"
"I was just thinking about what I knew about you, and it isn't very much. That just seemed to be the most curious to me."
He smirked. "Well, what do you know about me?"
She blushed but didn't back down, "I know you whine a lot, I know you think very highly of yourself, and that you're left handed."
He rolled his eyes, obviously unimpressed. "Anyone could figure that out Granger."
"I also know that your favorite color is green, you don't like your cow-lick because you're always rubbing it down, and that you have a sweet tooth, namely for Caramel Nougats...which by the way, I can't believe haven't rotted your teeth out." She looked him in the eye, with her own smug expression.
He stared at her a while longer, before cracking a dazzling smile. "I always knew you were watching me Granger." She rolled her eyes and moved past him, but he caught her arm. "Do you…like those things about me?"
She immediately blushed, and suddenly didn't feel so daring. She looked anywhere but at him, and finally settled on a spot on the wall just over his shoulder. Apparently, her silence was answer enough. "Well, do you want to know what I like about you?" he asked.
Come again? "What did you say?" Her curiosity was peaked once more and she eyed him warily.
"I like that."
He must have slipped into temporary insanity because he wasn't making sense. "Malfoy, you're not making sense."
"You're so curious about everything. Although, sometimes it borders on nosey. I like your voice, when you read aloud in class it's…nice. I like…your hair because even though you're so orderly and detailed, your hair is all over the place." As if to prove his point his hand tucked a wayward lock behind her ear.
She immediately began smoothing it all down, in vain. She swallowed, and she suddenly felt a flutter of something in her stomach. That was easily the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her, and yet it came from Malfoy. Something didn't add up.
"Malfoy, why are you telling me these things?"
He shrugged, "You wanted to know why I stopped calling you Mudblood. I lied when I said I didn't know. I stopped because I don't think you're a Mudblood, I think you're beautiful." Then, he kissed her, their first kiss.
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It took her several days to realize it wasn't some carefully orchestrated prank pulled by the entire Slytherin House. They fell into some unofficial, albeit very committed relationship for the remainder of their years at Hogwart's and on the night of graduation, Draco had proposed to her. He suggested they leave England and go live elsewhere, but Hermione knew there was no logic in that.
So, as much as it broke her heart, she broke it off with him. She explained that it wasn't right. That they could never fully live without paranoia and that she couldn't leave her parents forever. He seemed to understand…
Three years later she married Harry, and two years after that, she saw Draco at a hotel while she and Harry were on vacation. That was the first time she cheated on Harry, but she didn't feel ashamed. Instead, she wished there was a way to continue it forever. A secret relationship with Draco.
It was that thought that led her to this very moment. She was sitting at her desk in the Ministry waiting for her lover to come and ravish her on top of it, while her husband worked on the very next floor. Out of the two weeks that they had been sneaking around, this was the boldest adventure yet, and it was her idea.
Suddenly, the fireplace in her office began to glow with emerald green light, as green flames leapt up and a solid figure was thrown out not looking the least bit disheveled. How he managed it, was his own secret.
"Draco."
"Hermione."
They stared at each other for several moments before she reached for her wand. "Collopor--"
Before she could finish the incantation Draco's mouth was on hers. He wasted no time with the niceties and parted her lips forcibly with his tongue. Draco's normal aloof and all around uninterested demeanor would never lead anyone to believe he kissed with this much ferocious passion.
He was on his knees between her thighs. One hand was softly stroking the sensitive flesh while the other held the back of her head closely to his. She knew his kiss was telling her everything his words couldn't. He didn't break away suddenly, instead it was gradual. He softened his caress on her tongue, pulled back and nipped her lip, leaving a trail of kisses down jaw line.
He rested his forehead against hers, he was breathless. "Hello love."
She giggled, "Why can't I get a greeting like that everyday?"
"I'll give you anything you want," he said sitting back on his heels, "as long as you wear delicious little skirts like these everyday." He began to caress the fleshy skin just past the hemline of her skirt, slowly inching it further up her thigh.
"Is that right Mr. Malfoy?" she said, suddenly trying to take on a professional tone, which was hard to do considering he was sitting between her parted knees.
"Mmhmm…" He had pushed the skirt up to her hips at this point, exposing her satin green knickers, the center of which was noticeably dark with moisture. He nearly growled at the sight of them.
"You see how considerate I am, I know green is your favorite color. And what do I get for wearing a skirt and green knickers?" Her breathing became hitched as he used his thumb to massage the crotch, purposely lingering on the bundle of nerves beneath the slick fabric.
Hermione's eyes flew open when his ministrations stopped. He was wearing a devilish smirk that only meant trouble, but she didn't back down. "Mr. Malfoy, I dare say if you wish to remain employed at the Ministry your sub-par work will have to improve."
He chuckled, "Sub-par?" His voice was lust filled and husky. "You little witch."
Hermione cocked her head and he hooked his fingers in the waist band of her knickers and in one quick motion left her sitting bare bottomed on the leather seat beneath her. He hooked her legs over his shoulders and backed under her desk.
She smiled. That was what she loved about having Draco as her lover. It was the only aspect of his life where he probably wasn't selfish. He was attentive and determined. Every sexual experience was somehow better than the last, which left much to look forward to.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?" She barely heard her named being called through the haze of gratification. His tongue had just sent a wave of pleasure through her abdomen when she looked down at him. At some point she had fisted her tiny hand in his hair and his eyes were locked on hers.
"Tell me exactly what you want me to do."
She blushed, she couldn't voice her dirty thoughts out loud. He would probably think she was crazy, but his open mouth was sending puffs of hot air against her core and caused a new wave of arousal. "I…want…you to…suck…me...hard."
She felt Draco shudder, and she gripped the arm rests of her chair. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked. She nearly melted into a puddle at the sensation.
She was nearing the edge and he must have felt it because he slowed. Her chest heaved as her eyes remained fixed on him. His mouth was red, when he looked up at her, "Tell me what else you like…"
She swallowed and spoke, amazed that her voice worked, even if it was a croaked whisper. "I want you to—Harry!"
Harry had just walked in the door smiling at his wife. Hermione mentally slapped herself for becoming too distracted to lock the door when Draco came in. Between her legs, she felt Draco tense up and eased himself further under the hood of her desk, taking her draped legs with him.
"Hey babe…are you okay? You look a little flushed?" asked Harry.
"Yes, it's just a little hot in here is all." She silently hoped that he couldn't tell her skirt was nearly bunched at her waist, oh and that Draco was currently giving her the most intense oral pleasure of her life.
He shrugged at sat down in the chair across from her.
"Ahem, er, sweetie was there something that you needed? I'm kind of bogged down in paper work." She gestured to the meager stack of parchment on her desk.
Under the desk, Draco relaxed and began to lick slow languorous strokes between the slick folds of her vagina. Instinctively, Hermione rolled her hips, and gasped in horror as she realized what she had done.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked again.
"Oh, I just remembered, I have to owl Mum. Remind me when we get home."
"Okay, well, I just came by to tell you we're going out tonight. It's Luna's birthday and Ron is having a dinner for her."
The slurping sounds Draco made were deafening in her ears and she barely heard a word Harry said. Was he deaf? How could he not hear it? "Okay."
Harry got up to go and said over his shoulder, "Oh, 'Mione, make sure you wear those black little knickers I like so much…"
When Draco heard that, whether out of anger or spite, he began to assault her privates. He sucked, laved and flicked her nub, and in a matter of seconds Hermione shuddered. It took every fiber of strength in her not to yell his name, but no amount of will held back her moan. "Oh, God!"
Harry stopped, and in what seemed like slow motion, he began to turn around. Hermione struggled to regain control of her body. And just as his green eyes curiously found hers, she managed to think up a lie…
"I—er—have this horrible headache. Could you get me some water and maybe a potion?"
Harry ignored her request and ran back to her, "Hermione are you okay? What's wrong you've been acting strange since I got here. That almost sounded…" he let his voice trail off.
She interrupted his thoughts before realization dawned on him, "No, Harry I'm fine. I just need…could you please just get me a potion?" she said smiling sweetly at him.
"Yeah, sure" he said and hastily ran from her office.
"Colloportus! Malfoy!" she yelled unhooking her legs from his shoulders. He emerged from the desk looking just as spent as she felt and pocketed the dainty green knickers. "Draco, I can not believe you did that! We could have been caught!"
"Wasn't that the whole point, you did want to hold our little meeting in your office after all." He smiled smugly at her.
"That is not the point, you did that on purpose. When—when Harry mentioned the knickers you tensed, I felt it."
His face darkened. "Yeah so? Hermione, I want to be married to you, I have loved you far longer than that poof ever claimed to. It's not fair."
She couldn't help but smile at his whiny attempt to sound angry. "Draco, we've been through this before. I want you too, but, it would never work…there's too much--"
"Yeah, bullshit Hermione. You're the only person that stopped this. Happy anniversary," he said bitterly and sat a long black box on her desk. Before she could inquire, he had disappeared into the green flames.
She opened the slender box and gasped. Inside was a beautiful silver necklace with what looked like a large pearl at first glance. However, when she moved the box the surface took on a sort of iridescent glitter. She picked up the parchment attached to it and read:
This is a white opal; this one specifically belonged to my great-great-great grandmother Cassiopeia Bridgette Malfoy. It is rare, and I leave you to research its origin, bookworm. Our first kiss…Happy Anniversary…
D. Malfoy
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The End.
A/N: Soooo, what do you think? Review pretty please.