A Promise In The Dark
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited It's certainly inspired me to get these chapters out to you as soon as I can! I'm sorry for the formatting issues the first time I uploaded, but they're all sorted now and there won't be a repeat! I've written most of this in a segment style, and I'll try to make things as clear as possible so that they don't get too confusing! I hope you enjoy this next instalment – let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!
Chapter 2: The Softest Of Smiles
She didn't realise it was possible to come so close to literally melting into a person until her second sexual escapade with Malfoy. Logistically it was remarkably similar to their first time: up against the wall, this time in a cramped closet as opposed to a classroom. Never in her life had she thought she'd be one of those girls – the ones that allowed themselves to be pulled into dark spaces for a quick fumble as opposed to being treated with the dignity of a proper bed. Then again, it was always so much easier to judge others from a detached position. Granted she didn't think she'd allow herself to do this with anyone else – the security of knowing that Malfoy would be even more mortified than she if the truth got out made her feel safe enough to drop her guard…and her knickers. With less space to occupy, she was able to feel every single inch of him pressed up against her, and all thoughts of her next class were lost as she rocked her hips against his.
He'd yanked her knickers down, and she vaguely registered them ending up around her left ankle. He ran his tongue up her neck to her ear, and she'd shivered in delight, not understanding how everything seemed to feel even better than their first time together. He thrust into her quickly, fully aware that every second had to count – they didn't have long. She moaned and pulled him closer to her, angling her head slightly so that their eyes met.
"Harder," she'd practically pleaded.
His eyes darkened, and she'd felt arousal course through her veins as she saw the hunger dance across his features. She couldn't believe how much she wanted him – let alone how much he clearly wanted her. She didn't know what had made her so bold, but she made a mental note to do it again, because she'd never felt so desired in her life.
He complied.
And she never looked back.
~.:.~
"Better out than in…"
Hermione rubbed her hand over Harry's back in soothing circles, her other hand clutching his tightly, whilst Ron – a pale shade of green himself – shot concerned looks at them. They'd decided to spend their Saturday afternoon by the lake; Harry had endured a particularly awful night at the mercy of his disturbing dreams, and being outside in the autumnal sunshine was supposed to inflict a sense of serenity over him. It had worked for a little while; the weather had a cool bite that enveloped the grounds in an enchanting misty glow. Burgundy leaves littered the grass, and the sky was void of any dark clouds. However, recounting the terrifying dream had proven to be far too intense a task, and it wasn't long before he was crouched behind a tree vomiting up his breakfast.
Ron had gagged instantly, and Hermione had predictably rolled her eyes at him in exhasperation. She watched as Harry stumbled back towards them, face grey and so much older than it should have been. It filled her with an overwhelming ripple of grief – she couldn't remember the last time Harry hadn't looked so haunted. She missed his boyish charm and glint of mischief that was so characteristic to him. Would he ever get it back? It bothered her that the world they lived in was so cruel. He sat down beside her and cradled his head in his hands. She automatically shifted closer to him; she was never sure if her affectionate hugs and smiles were of any use anymore, but she couldn't quell the caring instinct inside of her. She didn't miss the way Ron's eyes narrowed slightly, and she invested her energy into biting back a retort. It bothered her to no end that Ron was always looking for a way to prove that there was something more romantic going on between her and Harry; he knew better than anyone how much Harry needed them as friends, and couldn't believe he thought she looked at him in any way other than a brother.
She knew it stemmed from his own feelings towards her, and this confused her even more. She used to think that she had feelings for the red head – in fact, she was pretty certain of it at one point. But she couldn't excuse the fact that he'd taken far too long to notice her, and by the time he had she'd had to endure listening to him prattle on about the attractiveness of a multitude of women. She'd invested all of her energy into the war and Harry, and just as she was piecing herself together, he had decided to give her a second glance. Her pride was wounded – that was undeniable – but it turned out that time had been exactly what the situation needed to diffuse her crush on him completely. Having never conversed on the matter, their friendship had inevitably suffered a little from the awkwardness of it all, but she deduced that it was far better than enduring an emotionally charged conversation that would only end in tears.
"Harry, maybe it's time you spoke to Dumbledore? You can't go on like this-"
"You really think that's going to solve anything?" he snapped, his eyes slicing through her gaze. "Somehow I don't think a lullaby or a confusing riddle leading to no real explanation is going to help."
Hermione bristled at his tone and mentally counted to ten, never ceasing her comforting ministrations. She knew better than to take Harry's jibes seriously; he was so tired and frustrated and she was a very easy target for him because she was the most persistent voice of reason he had. She knew Harry would feel guilty for it and he'd attempt to make it up to her – it was a cyclical pattern they never spoke of but knew inside out. Her thoughts drifted to the clipped tones of another male in her life and almost scoffed at the difference. Harry's outbursts came from a place of turmoil, and she had been placed in the firing line because of their deep platonic bond. Draco Malfoy's vile behaviour towards her came from the depths of a dark pool of hatred and frustration that had been brewing for so long he probably wouldn't know what to do without its existence. She'd be lying if she said his words didn't hurt her, but she'd come to need his unjustifiable hatred – if only just to remind herself that there was a sense of normality somewhere in the world.
"But maybe he can help you figure out a way of living with it? There's got to be some way of blocking him out…"
Hermione graced Ron with a genuine smile as he trailed off, probably becoming unsure of himself with every word he said. This is what she wished he'd be like all the time; a focussed, functional friend not side-tracked by jealousy or immaturity. His place in between them was becoming more vital as tensions ran higher and higher. He had the ability to mediate, and whenever he neutralised the atmosphere she felt less alone than at any other point. However, she knew he hated being in the middle and the role of councillor did not come easy to him – a lot of the time it was just too much effort. Often conflicted, his natural reaction was to make a joke or divert Harry's attention to a game of Quidditch; tactics that worked to relieve Harry's tension, but did absolutely nothing to appease her. It used to bother her to no end, but interestingly her meetings with Malfoy seemed to have quelled this frustration.
"I'll think about it," Harry compromised softly, the weakness in his voice evident. "I just wish this was all over."
"I know," she soothed, a tight smile on her face.
Ron started talking about sleeping potions and Hermione felt her eyes wander across the grounds. When had she stopped appreciating the breath taking surroundings of Hogwarts? It bothered her that she couldn't remember the last time she looked over the beautiful building, or the enchanting woodland surrounding it with an appreciative eye. War most definitely sucked the beauty out of the world – she had never been more certain of something in her life.
She vaguely noticed Malfoy walking past them towards the building, and allowed herself the rare opportunity of a fleeting glance in his direction. He was a few steps ahead of Crabbe and Goyle, and his characteristic sneer was etched in place, although she couldn't help noticing how vacant his eyes seemed. She moved her hand away from Harry's back and discreetly checked the time on her watch. Quarter to three. She looked up again to see his eyes meet hers for the briefest of seconds, and had she not been watching him so intently she would have missed the way his head tipped slightly towards the castle. Her eyes widened a fraction. Now? She looked back at Harry and Ron – both completely engrossed in their conversation – and realised something she never thought she'd admit to herself. She actually wanted to go – and not just because she was in desperate need of release. She was completely and utterly exhausted from everything, and Harry's foreboding dream had unlocked a whole new vault of fear within her she wasn't ready to face. She could feel her body aching for his touch, his tongue, his kiss –
"You alright Hermione? You're all flushed!"
Ron's voice made her snap back to reality. She knew Malfoy was already waiting for her. Her knickers were already getting uncomfortably damp. And she really didn't have enough energy to tackle the serious undertones surrounding Harry's nightmares just yet. She justified herself by asserting that she needed to be as alert, focussed and patient as possible, and this was the only way she could ensure she was.
"I'm fine," she assured as she stood up. "I just remembered I need to finish off my conclusion for Flitwick's essay! I'll see you both later."
She didn't spare them a second glance, and to their credit they didn't even question her. The more nights they spent awake in the common room discussing the war, or alternatively anything to take Harry's mind off of things, the more believable it was becoming that she'd start forgetting snippets of her schoolwork.
~.:.~
Draco,
I trust this letter finds you well. Severus informed me of your latest grades; I am pleased to see that our last conversation resonated with you. I understand the first Hogsmeade weekend of the academic year is next Saturday. I expect to see you at the usual place at precisely twelve o'clock. We have important matters to discuss.
Father
~.:.~
He could tell how badly she needed this from the moment she pressed him up against the door of the Room of Requirement the second they'd stepped into it. She'd buried one hand in his hair as her tongue conducted a seductive assault on his mouth, the other hand running appreciatively over his chest. The breathless moans coming from her were making him hard, and he gripped her hips tightly as he brought her closer to him. Something clearly had her tightly wound; he assumed it had something to do with the mothers' meeting he'd seen her having moments ago with Potter and Weasel. Even he had to admit he'd never seen the-boy-who-lived looking so awful. Her hand moved lower, past his belt, skimming his groin, and he thrust into her hand. All thoughts of his impending meeting with his father evaporated as he concentrated on the demanding witch in front of him.
He pushed off of the door and walked her into the room, stopping only when they reached the bed. He lowered her down and gave her one last, lingering kiss before taking a miniscule step away. Her eyes clouded in confusion, but he simply smirked at her, pulling out his wand. With two purposeful flicks her clothes had disappeared and her hands were above her head, wrists magically bound together. Her eyes widened, not in fear, but in surprise – and he momentarily wondered when she'd stopped fearing him. She was far too trusting for her own good; he'd have to deal with that later. He leaned over her, enough so that his clothes just skimmed her bare skin, but not enough to provide any real contact. She squirmed a little and his smirk widened.
"Patience, Granger…I plan on making this last."
She blushed and he kissed his way down her neck, stopping to gently nip, bite and suck wherever he deemed necessary. He liked the thought of leaving his mark on her. He took a nipple into his mouth and revelled in the moans and whimpers it provoked. His hand took care of the other and the brunette was soon writhing underneath him.
"Please….Malfoy…I need…."
He chuckled against her breast and shot her a smouldering look.
"What is it you need, Granger?"
His fingers traced a path down her stomach, and she shivered in delight.
"I need you…."
His tongue followed and he adjusted himself so that he was positioned in between her legs. He dipped one finger inside her experimentally, and she gasped, her eyes rolling back into her head. He started off slow, noting the way he could feel every tingle – he could feel her becoming more and more aroused. He added a second finger and increased his pace, allowing her to slip further into ecstasy. He flicked his tongue against her clit and her legs tightened around him. He was fascinated by all of the noises she was making – couldn't take his eyes off the varying expressions dancing across her face. He never usually had time to pay attention to things like that; it was normally a rushed affair, and he tried not to draw attention to the fact that it was Hermione Granger all over him. Now, however, it seemed to be the only thing he could think about.
She came all over his tongue and fingers, and he lapped it up without a second thought. Her legs gently gave way, and he lifted his head slightly to look up at her. He had every single intention of climbing on top of her and getting exactly what he needed – he'd waited long enough, and he was beginning to get extremely impatient. Her eyes flickered open and bore straight into his own; her gaze was warm, appreciative…and alien to Draco. He began to feel a tad uncomfortable. This was not something that they did, and he found himself almost wishing he'd just resorted to their signature quick fuck dynamic. Almost. Because annoyingly, he couldn't quite shake the fact that he liked knowing he'd been able to watch her in such a vulnerable, pleasurable ecstasy. She had been completely at the mercy of his ministrations, and she had enjoyed every single second of it. She hadn't been a virgin when they first had sex – he hadn't asked any questions, but something had told him it wasn't Weasley who she'd lost it to. Nevertheless, he was sure that no one had ever touched her in that way before, and it made him extremely smug.
She softened her gaze and gave him a soft smile. It was so tiny, but it lit up her entire face.
He froze.
