Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Goes the clock.
One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.
Hermione counts the steps of the waltz in her head as she spins around Malfoy Manor's ballroom. Narcissa is insisting that the next Malfoy heiress be born in wedlock, which means a pureblood wedding. Unfortunately for a pregnant Hermione, her center of gravity has changed since her deportment lessons as a child.
One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three…oh!
The littlest Malfoy announces her presence with a well-aimed kick at her mother's ribcage. Wincing slightly, she almost misses the flash of red behind Draco's eyes as she abruptly stops, causing him to stumble.
"Alright, there, Malfoy?" she queries, looking into the stormy grey depths of his eyes, searching for any sign of red.
"Watch your step next time," he snaps.
…XXX…
Tick. Tock. Goes the clock.
She can hear the beating of his heart, preternaturally in the silence. The only movement is Cassiopeia, squirming within her, as she watches Draco from the top floor of the library, seeing him pour through books as black as his family.
The clock strikes twelve, and he finally rises from his seat, sending the books back to their gilt prison, chained behind gold lattice requiring a drop of Malfoy blood to unlock.
The clock chimes.
One. Two. Three.
He looks up at her hiding place, as quickly as a cobra, eyes searching, and narrowing, attempting to detect her presence.
Four. Five. Six.
Hermione shrinks against the bookcase, fighting the urge to renew her disillusionment charm, knowing he will detect the magic.
Seven.
Cassiopeia stirs within her, kick her mother hard in the ribs, a pain to the heart.
Eight.
Draco shakes himself, muttering, "I told you there was nothing there," seemingly to no one.
Nine. Ten.
Letting out a breath, she sighs in relief, as he exits the library with a sharp bang of the doors, setting her mind at ease.
Eleven.
CRACK.
Twelve.
Grey eyes stare at her hungrily, as strong arms envelop her from behind, a hissed silencio, catching her cry of alarm.
Tick. Tock. Goes the clock.
"Now what do we have here, my sweet? A voyeur? I have no secrets from the mother of heir."
She melts at the familiar feeling of his lips caressing her neck, his erection rubbing against her bum. Seduction, so sweet, yet so dangerous is what brought them together, yet there is a niggling doubt swirling in the back of her mind. His hands slip beneath her robes, murmuring delight at the traditional silk allowing him free access to his prize.
As he slides down her body, kissing and caressing her gently, slowly, her doubts are pushed aside as his licks once against her clit.
Tick. Tock. Goes the clock.
"Draco? Hermione? Are you in here, mistress is requesting your presence at luncheon!" a house-elf's voice calls out into the library.
And then, the moment is gone, contracting upon itself, and suddenly, they are simply two eighteen-year-olds caught in a tryst.
…XXX…
Draco is not plagued again by the voice in his head for another week, allowing him time to believe it was his own curiosity that drove him to research necromantic blood magic. Then he hears it, hissing through his ears.
"Tick. Tock. Goes the clock, young Malfoy. You can only fight me so long, especially when she's starting to catch on."
A/N: Trying to expand this one-shot into something multi-chaptered. Please bear with me and read and review, my lovelies! I appreciate con-crit, and input, though flames and slut-shaming users will be banned! 3
