The Love of a Death Eater

a/N: I wrote this for my friend Elizabeth on Tumblr as a Christmas present. I hope she and everyone else who reads it enjoys!

Hermione Granger was particularly skilled at keeping secrets. She'd done so all of her life, practically—keeping her status as a Witch from Muggles, keeping the secrets of her best friends. She thrived on secrecy in order to protect others, and sometimes that stretched out to include herself. Being locked in a dungeon by no means gave her the ability to share her secrets with another living being, to be sure, but even if she'd been allowed to, she wouldn't have told a soul. Not even Harry and Ron.

Because really, who would understand that logical and strong Hermione Granger got off on fucking the brooding son of her captors?

She sat on the floor of the cold dungeon of Malfoy Manor, her back pressed against the wall and her legs spread at awkward angles beneath her. Her hair was both frizzy and unkempt from the lack of proper maintenance it had been exposed to since her capture, and her wrinkled clothes were worn and torn in places, the largest gash in the fabric going straight across her chest to reveal the pad of her beige bra. Her head snapped over to the entrance of the dungeon—a rusty iron gate set up to look like the entrance of a jail cell—once she heard the distinct patter of feet descending a set of aged stone steps.

He was here.

Her heart thudded erratically in her chest, and Hermione licked her cracked and swollen lips, fidgeting slightly from the grasp of the shackles that the House Elf had been forced to place her in every day to insure she would remain their captive. The rusty metal door creaked open, and a tall and lean figure stepped through the opening, shutting it behind him. She heard the murmur of a Muffliato being cast, and soon the silhouette of a man towering above her made his slow and calculated steps towards her, his shoes scuffing against the cool ground.

The man knelt next to her, and even in the dark Hermione could make out the outlines of his pale and disheveled blonde mop of hair. Once so regally kept, the War had caused his appearance to grow more and more unkempt with each passing day. Her eyes sought his, and when she met the piercing grey irises, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"And how's my Mudblood doing this evening?" came the low and seductive hiss of the sole man who was able to cause Hermione to moan deliciously in ways that even she thought she was incapable of.

"Y—you haven't come to visit me," She sputtered out, the breath vacating her body in one shuddering heave. She hated illustrating her weakness like this—it only showed him that he held the power in their situation. He knew she needed him as much as he needed her, and as dangerous as it was, neither one of them were willing to stop. They were already in far too deep to back out now.

She could make out the twitches of his upper lip, and knew he was contorting his mouth into a disgusted scowl.

"I've been busy," He growled in irritation. "In case you haven't noticed, Granger, we're in the middle of a bloody War, and I can't be here to satisfy your cunt all the damn time."

Hermione's brown brows knit together in aggravation, and she reflected a scowl that could rival his own.

"The last time I checked, Malfoy," She breathed, her voice quivering with the progression of each word. "I satisfied your cock, as well." She fought back the blush that crept up her neck at the proclamation of such vulgar words, trying in vain to remind herself that she need not be embarrassed by the word, when she'd engaged in things far more vulgar with this man. This…this Death Eater.

"My cock, Granger?" He murmured, and soon he was grabbing a fistful of her brown curls, yanking her face towards him. She could feel Draco position himself so that his abdomen was rubbing slowly and methodically against her thigh, and Hermione bit down roughly on her bottom lip to keep the small squeal contained in the pit of her stomach. "Do you miss my cock?"

Hermione let out a small whimper and barely nodded her head, already feeling the moisture between her thighs beginning to dampen her knickers. Draco exhaled a breathless burst of laughter, his shoulders heaving inwards at her reaction. Slowly, he raised his hands and flicked his wand towards the iron shackles that kept Hermione's hands bound close to the wall, and with a click her wrists were soon free. She let out a sigh of relief, rubbing her aching wrists before directing her attention towards him.

Draco never did anything without expecting a reward in return.

"On your hands and knees," He barked, and she could feel his warm member harden against her upper leg as he commanded her. Hermione seemed to lose her voice; that was always her initial reaction around him. She turned around, crawling on her hands and knees and opened her legs slightly, lifting her buttocks in the air and revealing all of her Mudblood glory to him. She twisted her head around to catch a glimpse of his dark and hungry glare, the action causing her to tremble with desire.

Since she'd been captured, Draco had made it a habit to come and pay her frequent visits, satisfying both her desires and his own with their lusty encounters. There was something forbidden about him that aroused her, and the youngest Malfoy always knew which buttons to push.

The skirt she was wearing brushed against her upper thigh, and Hermione freed one of her hands from pressing against the cool floor to pull the skirt up slowly, teasing him with a sultry gaze. He made it so that skirts were all she wore these days, and so Hermione used the appeal of them to her advantage. Much easier access for him, he always said.

"That's my Mudblood," He growled, and though the comment under ordinary situations would have been derogatory and insulting, Hermione felt her heart flutter at the possessive tone in which he spoke of her. With rough hands, Draco dragged her soaking wet knickers down, and she wriggled free of the nuisance article of clothing, her thighs practically aching with the desire for him to take care of her.

Before he received the ability to order her to do so, Hermione spread her legs wider and bent down slightly, placing her tongue between her lips as she revealed her glistening cunt to his hungry eyes. Her nails dug and clawed at the stone floor as she prepared herself, her hips moving in slow rotation as she waited for him to penetrate her. She kept her eyes on him, watching as he hastily unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down with his boxers, his erection springing free. Hermione's mouth gaped open at the sight—Merlin, she wanted him. There was no denying it now, none at all.

Draco Malfoy was her dirty little secret, and she wanted him to fuck her until her cunt was screaming for him to stop and her eyes were blotting with the blinding ecstasy of her climax.

"Say it," He ordered, pressing himself against her. She felt his hard cock against her bum and a throaty moan ripped itself from her throat, her legs quivering as she opened wider for him. For Godric's sake, why did he always make her say it? It was as though he needed constant proof that she wanted him to do this to her—as if her reactions weren't enough to satisfy his desire to know!

"I—I want your cock inside of me, Malfoy," She breathed, wincing at the distasteful words. For some reason, her talking dirty always got him off, so she would temporarily swallow her pride and utter a sling of swears here and there to please him. Grunting roughly, Draco grabbed her arse cheeks in both hands and dug his nails into her flesh. She let out a small whimper, and without waiting for her to indicate she was ready, Draco bucked his hips forward and entered her from behind.

Hermione let out an ear-splitting shriek, thanking Salazar, Godric, Helga, Rowena, and whoever the hell else she could think of that his Muffliato charms were always particularly strong. As dirty as it may have been deemed, she loved it when he fucked her rough and entered her cunt from behind; it allowed him to explore her in different angles that were so sinfully delicious that she couldn't help but to rub her arse against him, wanting more.

"Fuck, Granger, fuck," Draco hissed, and she could feel his cock twitching around her cunt as her muscles conformed to him. She was already so wet to him, and she murmured manic cries of "yes" and "more" as he pumped into her, his thrusts both increasing in speed and power each time she commanded him to do so.

"Harder, harder!" She cried, her body thrusting against his in desire for him to fill her up inside. "More, I want more!"

He fulfilled her desires, pulling out of her only to pound harder into her again. Oh, Merlin, she was so close to coming she could practically taste it. His hand snatched up to grab a fistful of her knotted mass of curls and he yanked her head back, allowing her back to arch and his cock to enter her from a different angle. The head of his cock hit her favorite spot over and over again, and her pants grew shallower as that familiar ringing began to sound in her ears. She was close, she could feel it. She could taste it.

"You like it when I fuck you, don't you, Mudblood?" Draco growled, his voice shaking slightly as he lost control of himself. He was fucking her with abandon now, the sound of his hips slapping against her arse filling the area and mixing with Hermione's dulcet moans. She panted heavily in agreement, her body heaving forward as she allowed him to penetrate her until she swore her cunt was bleeding.

"Yes, yes, I love it when you fuck me, you dirty Death Eater!" She cried, her eyes stinging as he shifted inside of her, and with one final thrust, her world came undone. Her arms shook violently beneath her, and her upper body crashed against the floor as the orgasm hit her. She screamed his name over and over again, growing insane with the pleasure as her cunt quivered and contracted around his cock. She moved her hips against him feverishly, wanting him to come inside of her and fill her up as she rode her orgasm to the best of her ability.

With her chest pressed against the ground and her clit exposed to him, Draco let out a low cry and thrusted one final time, and he too came inside of her. Hermione laughed in pleasure as she felt his hot ecstasy fill her up, and her breathing became ragged as she moved against him, allowing him to ride his orgasm until it exhausted itself.

They stayed in the same position for several moments, both collecting their breath and calming down from the sinful lust they'd just engaged in. Finally, Draco pulled out of her, and Hermione managed a whimper of reluctance for him to leave. She dragged herself to her knees and turned to look at him, too exhausted to keep up her normal façade of hatred. They were so close that her nose brushed lightly against his, and she raised a trembling hand to his damp blonde hair, running her fingers through it. He never let her touch his hair, and so she was shocked when he didn't jerk away and tell her to sod off. He leaned forward slightly and took her face in his, kissing her roughly and with a sort of desperation. She answered with an equally as passionate kiss, her hand tightening its hold in his hair as she allowed him to suck and bite on her lips. When he pulled away, she stared at him in confusion, licking her swollen lips.

"What was that—"

"I love you," He managed to say in a rush, cutting her off.

She stared at him in awe for a few moments, her heart beating fast in her chest once more. Her face contorted into a twisted grimace, and she slumped forward, her body shaking as she allowed the sobs to evacuate her body.

The Death Eater loved her.

And she loved him in return.