Exchange
They returned uniquely broken, neither any closer to restoration than the other. Neither closer to restoration than they had been following the calm that existed after the worst storm they'd ever experience.
But to him, she offered herself. And in exchange, she'd also drown in him.
Romance. Hurt & Comfort. Humor. Family. Friendship.
Rated M
Explicit Sexual Content. Language.
Please note, these warning will be prevalent in more chapters than not.
Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger
Blaise Zabini x Luna Lovegood
Chapter Two. Terms of Agreement
"Malfoy," she chided as she stood. She was by his side in no time at all. Ignoring his state of undress, she slipped beside him and helped him to stand. He wrapped an arm around her, watching her with amusement dancing in his silver eyes. "You need to be resting."
"Well I heard my fate being discussed so I figured I'd pop in and throw out some suggestions myself," he said, a laugh in his tone. He had both arms around her now as she glared up at him.
Their magic began humming very gently, moving against one another slowly. They were feeding off of one another, though Hermione gave much more, pushing towards him. Still, her glare stood in place.
"So good to see your dramatics have been unaffected by your recent behavior," she bit. "I was going to discuss all of this with you once you were a bit more rested."
"And who knows when you would decide I was well enough for such a conversation?" he questioned. Her eyes softened.
"It would have been very soon, Malfoy," she said softly. She placed another hand on his stomach and felt her magic flow through the now open passage. It was very weak, and wouldn't help greatly, but it was something.
He rolled his eyes. "Not as soon as you, I'm sure." Her eyes widened. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
"That was a week ago," she whispered. He huffed a laugh.
"And I'm sure you were up and at them the following day, my overachieving lioness," he said. Her blush was all the confirmation he needed.
"I see that you two have much to discuss." They both turned to Madam Pomfrey, having forgotten she was there. "I will be back tomorrow evening to check you both. Get some rest."
Without another word, she slipped out of the room, both of them watching where she once stood. Once her footsteps completely faded down the hall, Hermione forcefully shoved Draco onto her bed.
"Bloody hell, Granger!" he cried. "Your bedside manner requires some work."
She glared as she got him comfortable in her bed, moving the pillows for him and placing her covers over his legs.
"The first time I see you in a month and you're already causing me problems," she grumbled. She flopped down beside him and pulled the blanket over her legs. She sat far from him and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. He glanced down at them, though she hadn't noticed.
"In my defense, I did warn you that we'd have quite the year ahead," he said, carefully scooting closer to the young witch. Try as she might, she couldn't fight the smile that broke her glare.
"I thought you meant breaking curfew or something trivial, not almost killing yourself," she bit, recalling the letter he referenced.
"Your assumptions are in no way, shape, or form my fault," he said. He pulled her under his arm and she turned her head away from him in annoyance, though her magic began humming again. "You wanted to try this, Granger. You had to know it wouldn't be easy."
She rolled her eyes but said nothing. He wasn't wrong. She should have known that trying to have a… whatever the hell this was, wouldn't be simple. Things never were with him.
What she hadn't told Madam Pomfrey was that it was only his magic she couldn't feel the same. His physical body had been in nothing but boxers and wrapped around her, where it stayed for the rest of the morning.
They both woke in time with the sun rising. Seeing one another didn't call for panic or fear. In fact, it was comforting. As all of their memories flooded back, they pulled one another closer.
Her face completely relaxed and her eyes glossed over as she recalled the morning after.
Humming. His magic and her own. They were humming. Slowly - very slowly - healing one another. Her eyes fluttered open in time with his own. She settled on his face, taking in his features. He looked tired, but fortunately he hadn't looked unusual or sick.
He pulled her close and rested his chin on her head. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. She took a moment to consider this.
"I don't know," she said. "You?"
"No," he whispered. She tightened her hold for a moment before pulling away from him and moving so that her forehead rested against his.
"We have to talk about what happened," she said gently.
"Which part?"
"All of it," she answered. "From the moment you arrived to right now. All of it."
He was silent for a moment. "I've done this before. A few times while…" He didn't need to finish his sentence for her to understand what he meant. "Have you done this before?"
"Never," she said. "I came here hoping that if I distanced myself from everything that it would go away. But I imagine that it was far too late by the time I arrived. Have you ever been able to stop it?"
"No," he said. "I can't be sure, but I believe it builds up with time. And by the time you notice how chaotic it's gotten, you can only succumb to it."
She seemed to take this information in. "Time isn't the only factor." It should have been a question but it was a statement.
"No," he said. "It isn't."
His mind flashed to last night. He replayed her painful memories in his head. Things he hadn't imagined would happen to her. Her parents. The war. Weasel.
And she knew his pain. Saw the most horrifying moments through his eyes. Drowned in his thoughts. Overnight, the girl who was once an enemy now knew him more intimately than anyone. And here she was still, trying to heal and comfort him.
"Your memories," she said, pulling him from his thoughts, "I had no idea." The sadness in her voice unsettled him. He moved to pull away from her.
"I don't need your pity, Granger," he bit. She pulled him back to her, face still remaining gentle.
"Wonderful, because I have none to give you," she said. His eyes widened at this. "It wasn't just your memories last night, Malfoy. They were ours. I have no pity for you and I have none for myself. But I understand your sadness. I understand why you're here right now. And it sucks,"
He snorted a laugh, not expecting such a sentence from her full, pink lips. He supposed it did… suck.
He relaxed around her again. "I don't understand why you're here," he said. "As you've seen, my father is imprisoned and my mother can barely comfort herself. I have no one. But you have Potter. Why are you in my arms and not his?"
"Because that's where Ginny needs to be," she answered simply. "As much as you dislike him, I know you understand him. Slytherin Prince. Heir to the Malfoy kingdom. You have expectations to answer to. People who feel that this is who you need to be and you can never been anyone else.
"Harry is the same. The Boy Who Lived. The fate of the wizarding world ultimately fell on his shoulders. But it's over now. He needs a break from being a hero. Right now he just needs to be Harry, Ginny's loving boyfriend."
He seemed to consider this. "And you, lioness?" When she looked away he caught her chin and forced her to look at him. "Gryffindor Princess and the brains behind the golden trio. Do you believe that you don't deserve the same rest? The same comfort?"
Her mind flashed to Ron and the last night she saw him. He didn't seem to think so. He seemed to think that her job would forever be looking after him. Being there for him. Mind, body, and soul.
"I'm not asking what Weasel thinks, princess," he said, as if reading her mind. The grimace he wore made it clear that his mind was fixated on a particular memory. The moment that ultimately tipped her to leave. The last night she was with Ronald Weasley.
"It wasn't the same," she said, not exactly answering him.
"But it was," he said simply. "Because you deserve to be in the arms of someone you trust."
"I am," she replied easily. He scoffed at this.
She sat up now, her large curls spilling over her shoulders. "In the end you did what was right, Malfoy." He sat up too.
"Yeah, in the end. A lot of fucking good that did."
"Yes, it did do a lot of fucking good. You helped save us."
"I should have done a lot more than that," he said. He moved to cover his dark mark but she grabbed his arm. He saw a glimpse of her scar.
"You were a child, Malfoy."
"And what were you exactly? You're not even a year older than myself!"
"But I had support that you didn't!" she argued. "You didn't have a chance to choose. You were told entirely too young to be someone else!"
"And how exactly do you know that I'm not still that someone?"
"Because that someone would have never taken me with them!" she screamed. "Or made sure I got home. Or held me all night into the morning. You're not that person and I believe that the second you understood exactly what being that person meant, you stopped being him!"
They sat in silence. He watched closely as a determined fire danced in her eyes. Bleeding heart Gryffindors. Always finding the good. Forgiveness. Light. Even when he was certain it didn't exist. He rolled his eyes.
"When you punched me," he murmured. He was pleased to see that her face twisted into confusion.
"What?" she asked. He slipped his arm away.
"When you punched me, I understood exactly what being that person meant. But by then it was too late."
She sat astonished as he stood and began dressing. He needed to return to the manor and check on his mother. She hadn't said a word until he turned to say 'goodbye'.
"I don't want to return to before," she said. She stood on her knees at the edge of the bed. He stepped close to her, stopping when there was only an inch between them.
"What exactly would you like from me?" he asked, genuinely curious. She hesitated for a moment.
"I don't know," she said. "But I didn't like the way it was before."
He stared down at her, his eyes giving away nothing. Then he brought his hand up to rest on her face. She felt her magic reach for him. It felt good.
Wordlessly, he kissed her cheek and slipped out of the door, giving no real indication that any change would take place.
Not until she returned from the library, at least. On the small round table in her room was a beautiful red rose trimmed in gold. With it was a note that simply read, 'Please forgive me. - DM'.
From that moment, there wasn't more than a week that passes where they hadn't exchanged letters.
She let her mind return to the present. She thought to the last expelling she had and what prompted it. Something she was sure would be discussed soon.
Then she thought to his. About what prompted it. In their letters, there was no indication of panic. They mostly discussed trivial things and their plans for returning to Hogwarts.
It was how she knew he would be returning as Head Boy. That and an unneeded warning from Head Master McGonagall.
He'd told her that he was coming today. Oddly enough, she was headed to the library to relieve herself of the anxiety caused by awaiting his arrival. Before she could make it, however, she felt him - completely out of control and powerful. She knew what was happening and she knew she needed to get to him. Immediately.
So to the Astronomy Tower she went.
"So," Malfoy began, pulling her from her thoughts, "tell me again, lioness, why I would refuse to shag you."
She snapped her gaze in his direction with wide eyes and a blush staining her skin.
"Because Malfoy," she began, "we're just barely friends! I can't imagine that you… I mean that you would want to… That…"
He could see her panic as she rambled on. His grin almost broke his face. "Oh really? I recall sending you a letter that may have suggested otherwise."
He didn't think it possible but her eyes widened more. He could feel the heat radiating off of her and her magic became a touch more forceful.
"That's completely different!" Hermione argued. "I mean that was because of the whole thing with Ron… And we were just talking about it generally… That couldn't possibly mean that you'd… Malfoy, this isn't funny you sodding git!"
His quiet chuckles turned into an obnoxious laugh that echoed through her room. She glared at him, idly noting that the color was returning to his face.
She sat in silence as his laughter subsided, which took far longer than she would have liked. And even when his infuriating giggling had ended, his grin still stood.
"Sleep with me."
"What?" she screamed.
"I do believe you heard me."
"And I don't believe you know what you're asking."
"On the contrary, Granger, I completely understand what I'm asking of you. I want to be buried between your thighs as often as humanly possible until we're all healed up. Maybe even longer," he mused.
"You can't even call me by my given name and you want to… to…"
"Make you cum as often as possible, yes, Granger, that is correct."
"Don't say things like that!" She turned her head away from him, heat pooling between her thighs and warming her magic.
"Think about this, Granger -"
"No, thank you."
"- This is our best bet," he reasoned. "We're healing one another, whenever we touch. I know that bookish mind can't wait to learn more about that. We can report any findings, monitor any changes, and we get to run those tests for more answers. Not to mention you get to bed the most handsome wizard in the world." She rolled her eyes at this.
"Well when you put it that way," she said sarcastically, still turned away from him.
"In all seriousness Granger, this is the best option and you know this. For the sake of research and our lives. Bedding a beautiful witch is just a bonus." She blushed, still looking away.
She didn't answer him, though her mind ran wild with thoughts of them together. Thoughts that she'd had long before this moment. Then he kissed her shoulder.
She gasped but didn't move to push him away. As he trailed kisses up to her ear, she sighed, falling into the sensation against her skin and the body of gold flecks that coursed through her.
He cradled her face in his hand and replaced the small pecks with licks, nips, and open mouth kisses. She moaned when he bit her ear. "We can replace old memories," he whispered gently to her.
The thought of that memory - her last memory of Ronald - would usually fill her with sadness. But now, all she could think about were Draco's kisses. His touch. His magic.
Finally she looked at him, resting her forehead against his as she did the last time they were together. "What do you say, lioness?" he questioned. "Will you allow me to explore you as no wizard has?"
There was only a moment of thought before she moved forward and captured his lips with her own.
In the kisses she'd shared in the past, none had ever come close to feeling like this.
She whimpered against his lips, driving him to be more forceful. She felt good. Her lips on his. Her hands - one on his shoulder and the other on his chest. Her magic. It was hot now. Comforting. And raging. Their magic danced effortlessly together, having never had such a passage open for exchange.
He shifted so that she rested beneath him. Her breasts heaved with her erratic breaths, threatening to spill over her shirt. His skirt slipped up her leg, much to his pleasure. He rested a hand on her creamy thigh and moved the offending article higher as he settled between her legs. He pressed his hardening dick against her pussy, only the thin material of their underwear keeping them apart.
Hermione's gasp turned into a thick moan as he began to slowly rock back and forth, setting a pace.
He pulled away from her and watched her closely, his hips still moving against her. She watched him with dark, hooded eyes. Her parted lips were red and swollen. She breathed in time with his strokes, inhaling sharply when he moved forward.
"I need a concrete response now, witch," he growled.
"Rules," she gasped. He chuckled.
"Of course." He kissed her quickly and applied more pressure. She whimpered.
"We take our time," she said. "I don't want to go too far too quickly."
"Do you truly think I'd want anything other than to take my time with you?" His voice was husky and low. She looked away from him but he tipped her chin to look at him and leaned closer. "What else?"
"No one else," she whimpered. He felt himself harden. He stroked deeper, sliding deliciously against her clit. "Merlin!"
"Possessive witch," he growled. "Good."
She trailed her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and down his back. She pulled his body closer. Her cum soaked her panties and began coating him through his boxers.
"Contraception," she breathed.
He kissed her then, humming playfully. He pulled away just enough to still brush her lips when he spoke. "You want to feel my cum inside you," he teased. He didn't miss the way she rolled her hips beneath him. He moved to her ear, biting it before he spoke. "You'd give me a brilliant heir."
She spread her legs wider as he pressed closer. She could feel his magic melting against her own, drowning her in a sensation beyond what her physical body could provide.
"Draco," she whimpered. He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. "No one knows."
He froze for a fraction of a second, his movements unconsciously slowing. "Ashamed of me?" he mused, though it hadn't felt light-hearted. She felt his magic retreat.
She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him to look at her. She began rolling her hips with purpose.
"If I was, you wouldn't be between my thighs making me cum," she whispered. His eyes widened in surprise at such a brazen statement. "I'm not some slag who goes around shagging all of her friends." Her breath was labored as she spoke. "Offer more than this and you can tell the whole world." She accented her joking words with his signature smirk. It made him smile. She was pleased when his magic returned to her.
He continued his previous movement, earning a pleased sigh from her. She let her head fall back against her pillow. "Is that all, lioness?" She nodded eagerly, running her hands along the hard lines of his chest. "Perfect. I have a few of my own."
He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand as his pace quickened. "When I'm between your legs, I'm Draco."
She nodded vigorously, struggling to hold his gaze.
"Whenever you want to cum, I need to know. Whenever." She whimpered, imagining that she'd need to feel like this again. Soon.
"Fuck," she breathed. "Yes." She broke their stare and let her head fall completely back. She began rocking in time with him.
"No one touches you," he he growled. He could almost see the protest on her tongue. He began rocking quickly, hoping to end her complaint. "Hugs only. Briefly." She nodded to the compromise.
Their breaths became shallow pants as they neared the edge. Neither had ever experienced something of this magnitude. Their bodies responded as if they were made for one another. And their magic… It clung to one another, healing, comforting, and pleasing. It was all-consuming. And it was about to make them cum.
"One last thing," he began, his strokes becoming erratic and needy. She squirmed beneath him, edging on her orgasm. "Tell me who's making you cum."
His name exploded from her lips, filling the walls of her bedroom. Her scream was enough to make him cum, hot ropes coating his already soaking dick.
Their magic flared, heating enough to warm their physical bodies. They expanded near explosion before retreating back into them, dormant and sated. For now.
They rocked slowly against one another, prolonging the sensation. Once they were too sensitive, the movements stopped. They remained in place, trying to catch their breaths.
When his heartbeat settled, he rolled off of her and muttered a cleaning spell for both of them. He settled onto her bed and they both fell into silence.
Hermione and Draco replayed this moment over and over again in their minds. Neither of them was sure how long the silence stretched on. But suddenly, Hermione giggled. Softly and quickly.
And then she did so again. And again. Louder now. Before long, her giggles became uncontrollable laughter. Draco stared at her in confusion before eventually giving in and laughing with her.
Hermione wasn't sure why she started laughing. Or why Draco joined her. Or how long they laughed for. All she knew was that her stomach hurt now, there were tears in her eyes, and she felt incredible.
Eventually they fell into a comfortable silence. They stared at her ceiling with fingers touching and tracing one another slowly. Touching him felt familiar, despite how new the gesture was. She closed her eyes.
"Tell me why," she said softly. If he'd been taken aback or confused by her request, it didn't show.
He took a deep breath. "Listen well, lioness. I won't repeat myself," he warned. She rolled her eyes before shutting them again, focusing on his words.
"I don't believe in much," he began, "but that night I know was meant to be. It was meant to be you. And I have no concrete reason for such an idea. I simply know it to be true.
"That night we shared everything that's meant to be kept locked away. Secrets. Fears. Nightmares. Even magic. But there was no shame that followed. I experienced a comfort, a warmth, and a power I never imagined possible.
"Not only do you have your own hateful memories of me, but you lived through mine. You explored my thoughts and yet here you are, trembling and completely comfortable beside me.
"My bleeding heart lioness," he snorted, though there was no malice. No sarcasm. "I have no way to atone for my mistakes and still, here you are. In spite of all that I have done - all that the people you loved have done - your heart is still open.
"So, to answer your question, it's because you are kind and forgiving. Loyal to a fault and selfless. Beautiful in every sense of the word and intelligent beyond measure.
"You're my friend for nothing more than what you see in me. And that's enough for you. When all my life, it's never been enough for anyone else. Not even me."
His eyes widened when he was done, as if he hadn't realized that he'd said so much. He turned and found her warm eyes watching him intently. It unnerved him.
"But, more than anything, you have the perfect ass."
She was unfazed by his comment. She continued to watch him with gentle eyes. Then suddenly, she smiled. Small and genuine.
She pulled the cover over her shoulders and turned back to the ceiling, muttering a spell to extinguish the flames of her lamps.
He watched her expectantly still. The moon spilled in through her window, illuminating her skin. She pulled him close, resting on his chest. He could feel her smiling against his skin.
"Goodnight Malfoy," she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her and shut his eyes, suddenly exhausted.