The Mountain and The Sea

Chapter 7

A/N: I'd like to take a moment to respond to a review that I received on the last chapter. The reviewer made some valid points and I'd like to address them with all of you. First, as the story has already been written I won't actually be changing anything that happens in it. I could, but I don't want to, I am satisfied with what it has turned out to be. It is a light hearted, fluffy story, meant to entertain and incite a few "awwww"s at some points. That being said, you raise a good point in saying that Draco can't simply banish all the years that he teased and was mean to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Let me explain my thinking in designing the plot: The "Golden Trio" and Draco were children when they were in school, despite Voldemort and everything that hung over their heads, they were still children. Children say and do things that they later look back on with shame and embarrassment, I speak from experience. Living through a war, or any trying time period, changes people in ways that most of us cannot understand. Draco is an adult now, he has lived through some of the most excruciating pain and has seen terrible deeds done to people; he never really wanted to be a Death Eater and he didn't have the stomach for it, which was shown in the Half-Blood Prince. He's not the child who seeks to please his parents; he's a man trying to find his own way in a world that is very different from the one he grew up in. I think it's completely reasonable that Draco realizes he and Hermione are equals in the moment he saw her tortured in the same way and same place that he had been, and that many others had been. I also think that it's reasonable for him to not really like Muggles or their influence on the wizarding world but to not hate them either. He states that, had it not been for the Veela instinct, he would never have approached Hermione in a romantic manner because they have a long and rather unpleasant history together but that doesn't change the fact that he can see the good in her, that he acknowledges the equality between them. So, to sum up, I enjoyed your review, I'm glad you like the story (for the most part) so far, and I'm really glad that you took the time to tell me your thoughts on the plot. That being said, you asked me not to rush Hermione and Draco's relationship for my readers and I'm not going to, they're not going to suddenly be madly in love from this chapter onwards, but I'm not going to change the plot for you either. Sorry.

*phew* That was a lot. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and sorry it was late, the website was fail on Monday night. As always, I welcome your opinions! xx

Hermione had to be dreaming, because if she wasn't dreaming then Narcissa Malfoy had just treated her like... like a human being.

Of course, the Malfoy's hadn't been anything but painfully polite to her since the war ended but there was no doubt in her mind that they still thought she was the dirt under their expensive shoes. To hear Draco tell her that she wasn't "Mudblood" to him anymore confused her greatly, she had no idea how to understand him if not by the Pureblood morals that he had always toted. And if he didn't think she was dirty, why did he pull away from her so fast when his mother came into the room? Was he afraid of what she would say if she saw him touching a Muggle-born? He didn't know that Narcissa had all but thrown Hermione on him the night before, helping her strip him of his clothing so that she could press her own skin against his. He didn't know that she had fallen asleep, comfortably nestled against him, and dreamed of a man with grey eyes, soft lips and a kind smile.

So when she asked Draco to pinch her, her motivations were twofold: one, to see if she really was dreaming and two, to see if he'd willingly touch her.

He grinned at her again and she was momentarily stunned by the way his face changed. His usually sour expression was the only one she felt familiar with; he had always smirked nastily or sneered whenever she was around. Of course, she had seen him smile before, but it had never been directed at her. But now...now he was grinning happily at her. It lit up his entire face, changing him into a man she didn't know.

Quick as lightening, Draco reached out and pinched her arm. "Ouch!" she jumped and rubbed the area he had assaulted.

"You asked for it," he said, shrugging.

She narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "I didn't think you'd do it."

Draco laughed and she found herself smiling without a thought. He leaned in closer to her, so close that she could have kissed him, and he whispered. "I'd like to see you punish me."

Hermione swallowed hard at the implication, feeling the blush that warmed her skin and set her heart to beating heavily in her chest. She watched Draco's pupils dilate, almost as if he could tell, and she knew that if she didn't get out of the bed right that second she would do something stupid. Like lean forward and kiss him.

She jumped up, not even pausing to think about the fact that she was practically naked, and bent to look for her jeans. She found them on the floor as they had been kicked off the bed sometime in the night. When she straightened to slip them on she found that Draco was lying on the bed, his arm propping up his head and watching her with an indecent amount of interest. She glared at him half heartedly because, really, he was trying too hard. Still, despite his arrogant, 'I know I'm beautiful air', she swallowed hard as she took in the sight of him. Draco Malfoy topless, the blanket hanging around his narrow hips and an almost predatory grin on his face belonged on the cover of a Muggle magazine.

"Will you stop it?" she said, pushing both feet into her jeans and pulling them over her hips. "This is not a free show."

"No," Draco drawled, sounding more like his old self. He even smirked at her, but it hadn't an ounce of malice in it. It wasn't so much the lust in that look that terrified her, it was her body's reaction to it. "But this is a show I'd pay for."

Hermione turned bright red and quickly grabbed her tank top, pulling it over her head. She didn't quite know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything. She threw her cardigan over the tank top, if only to remove more of her skin from the weight of his gaze, which still lingered despite the fact that her curves were now covered modestly.

"You need to get dressed," Hermione said, turning her back to him, "if we're going to leave this room together."

"If you insist," he drawled again. She heard him shifting on the bed and then his footsteps across the room. She should have been expecting him to walk across her field of vision and would have had her head not been all over the place. But the fact of the matter was that her head was all over the place and when Draco walked by her in his tight fitting boxer briefs—which left nothing to the imagination—she found herself blushing bright red again. Mentally, she scolded herself, she was no virgin, why was she acting like this?

She knew exactly why; because it was Draco Malfoy and he was...he was...hot damn.

His body was lean and hard; arms that were defined with wiry muscles hung gracefully at his side, his abs seemed to be carved out of his skin, and a delicious looking V lead her eyes straight to his pants. When he turned his back on her she got a completely different, but equally enticing, look at what he had to offer humanity. The muscles in his back shifted as he reached out for a pair of slacks from a dresser drawer, and when he bent over his arse became her sole focus. She would have been disappointed when he slipped his trousers on had they not fit him so well. Hermione absently lifted a hand to her mouth to make sure it wasn't open and drooling.

"You're staring," Draco said calmly, without turning to look at her. She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I am not," she said hotly, turning around so that it was true.

"Mmhmm," was all he said.

She bit into her cheek painfully, hoping that it would bring her back to reality. She was standing in Draco Malfoy's bedroom, her heart pounding and her body flush with a desire that she didn't fully understand or want. She knew when she walked through the fireplace to Malfoy Manor that everything would change but she hadn't expected the magical bond between them to intensify, though the fact that she was surprised was just another nod to the fact that her head was not in this game. He was taking her off guard at every turn and it left her feeling unsteady and uncertain.

Within minutes, Draco was dressed in a pair of black trousers and a light blue button down shirt which offset his eyes nicely. "Shall we?" he asked, as he started rolling up the sleeves on one arm. He struggled with it a bit, his fingers fumbling with the simple task. She eyed him with a professional glance, the only way she could look at him recently without her body having awkward reactions, and realized that he was still weak from everything. He had walked with his usual swagger and fluidity that she had momentarily forgotten that he had been on the brink of magical death mere hours earlier and that his body was still recovering. She didn't think about it as she walked over and reached for his arm.

"Here, let me," she said, deftly rolling up his right sleeve to just below his elbow, "that good?"

"Yes," he said softly. Something in his voice told her that if she looked up at him now, she'd be in more trouble than she was prepared to handle and she kept her eyes firmly on her task.

"Other arm," she said, reaching for it. To her surprise, Draco hesitated before he handed over his left arm. She realized why as soon as she started rolling the sleeve up. She had only flipped the fabric over twice before she saw the head of a snake tattooed in black ink on his arm. She paused, staring at the brand. Slowly, she folded the fabric back some more, revealing more of the Dark Mark that permanently marred his skin. It was such a contrast, the inky black against his alabaster forearm. She finished folding his sleeve to match that of the right, but instead of stepping away from him and turning around, she gently held his arm in her hands and inspected the tattoo.

She ran her fingers over it lightly expecting to feel bumps and ridges; she was shocked to find that it was as smooth as the rest of him.

"Did it hurt?" she whispered.

"I thought I was going to die," he whispered back.

She nodded and traced the outline of the skull with her index finger, her eyes roving over the deathly grin of the mouth and the snake protruding like a grotesque tongue.

"This is not me," Draco whispered, his other hand coming up to cover her exploring finger. "Not anymore."

She nodded again. "I believe you. I don't know why, but I do."

Draco released her finger and used his hand to tip her chin up so that she was forced to look at him. She met his steady gaze as he smiled softly at her, his hand still under her chin. She tried to return the smile but she wasn't sure she succeeded because she was caught up by the look on his face. She had never seen him look at her with such sincerity before. His eyes darted down to her lips and suddenly her mouth felt dry. She licked her lips instinctively and she saw his pupils dilate once again as he leaned in smoothly. Before his lips could reach hers, though, she jerked back out of his hold and clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

"I haven't brushed my teeth," she mumbled through her hand.

Draco stared at her for a split second, looking disbelieving, before he started to chuckle. "You haven't brushed your teeth? Well neither have I!"

With that, he reached out and pulled her hand away from her mouth as he yanked her body towards him. He didn't give her the option of pulling back as his mouth met hers, his lips claiming with no thought to morning breath or bad oral hygiene. Hermione stopped breathing; Draco's lips were soft but firm, hard and demanding. His kiss was nothing like those she had shared with Ron when they had first confessed their feelings for each other. Ron had not been a sloppy kisser but Draco made him look like a novice next to his mastery of it. He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and plunging the other into her wild hair as he licked and nipped at her lips.

When Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and threw herself into the kiss, responding with her own passion by opening her mouth to his tongue and pressing her hips closer to his, something in Draco seemed to snap. With a moan that was almost animalistic, he reached down and grabbed her arse, pulling her up and close, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Before she knew it she was pressed between a hard wall and Draco's lean body, being devoured by his tongue.

And she loved every second of it.

She gasped as his tongue tasted the roof of her mouth and his hips pressed into her body. She thrust against him instinctively, the action sending delicious vibrations of pleasure through her body as he met her move for move. Somehow, her hands found their way into his hair and she grabbed fistfuls of it, pulling it hard until he released her mouth with a moan that was part pleasure, part pain. Breathing heavily, Hermione leaned forward and bit down on his neck before soothing it with her tongue and lips. She knew she might leave a mark but she couldn't bring herself to care, especially when Draco let out a sound that was so close to a growl that it sent shivers down her back. His fingers dug into her thighs and as his hips snapped forward, bringing them to a point where they were practically having sex with their clothes on. He rutted against her shamelessly and she loved it with equal abandon.

She sucked on the skin of his neck, right over his rapid pulse point and he let out another low, moan as he reached up with one hand and pulled her tank top down to expose her cotton covered breast. Hermione was privately glad she hadn't bothered to button up her cardigan, not because the offending item would have had its buttons ripped off by Draco, but because it was one less layer between her skin and his mouth. As if he was reading her mind, he pulled down the cotton cup and latched his mouth onto her nipple. She let out a yelp of pleasure, her breathing hitching in her throat as she threw her head back so hard it hit the wall with a very loud thud.

She felt like she was out of control; she had never felt such passion, such desire for a man before. Never had someone's touch drove her to this brink of insanity, where her rational mind fled and her body took over; she was pretty sure she could climax from his rhythmic thrusts against her core alone and that was something that had never happened to her. She felt like a tightly coiled spring, ready to burst out of its confines and enjoy what she knew would make her feel like she was flying. How did he do this to her? How did she end up in this position? How did—

Draco bit down lightly on her nipple, causing all thought to leave her brain as she moaned loudly. She may have moaned his name, she wasn't sure, because she was barely conscious of anything besides the fire in her veins and the flicking of his tongue that sent sparks flying through her skin. He used the one hand that wasn't helping hold her up to fumble with her jeans, trying to pull open the button one handed. She was just about to help him when she heard the very distinct sound of someone Apparating into the room.

Pop!

"Mistress is asking young Master and his guest to be please joining her in the summer room," said a squeaky voice to her right.

Both Draco and Hermione froze. Hermione let out a small whimper as Draco stopped moving against her body and quickly pulled her top up to hide her exposed flesh from the view of the House Elf. Hermione turned and looked at the Elf in the white, starched pillow case as Draco slowly let her legs slide down to the floor. She was glad that he kept her pressed against the wall as he buried his face in her neck and groaned, rather loudly, because she wasn't sure she could stand just yet.

"Um," Hermione said, breathlessly. "Thank you...um..."

"I is being called Kali," the Elf said helpfully.

"Ah, yes, thank you Kali. We'll be down in a minute," she said, her hand absently combing through Draco's dishevelled hair as he breathed heavily against her skin.

"I is telling Mistress that!" the Elf said, smiling widely as if nothing were amiss. "Thank you, Miss!"

The Elf disappeared with a loud crack! and Hermione turned her head back to Draco so that their cheeks were pressed against each other. She felt as if a fog was slowly lifting and her brain began to function once again; it was rather a good thing that the Elf had interrupted them because she knew exactly where they were headed and they needed to talk before that happened. They were both still breathing hard and she could feel the light stubble on his face as it scratched her with every breath he took. She smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his neck, where she could see a livid red mark beginning to form. She was still throbbing from the need to have him closer, to have him finish what he had started but she knew it wasn't going to happen. She swallowed down her frustration as he pulled back and looked at her with his wide pupils.

"We should probably go down there before she comes up to find us," Hermione whispered.

Draco smiled softly. "Only if you promise me we'll pick this up again later."

Hermione blushed hotly but grinned, she didn't think she'd be able to say no to him. It was a slightly disconcerting thought.

"I promise," she whispered, reaching down and redoing the button of her pants. "But first, I think we need to fix up a bit."

She pressed the pad of her index finger to Draco's closed lips and grinned as his eyes widened when he felt her magic sweep through his mouth. Hermione had become quite efficient at wandless magic, Harry had helped to teach her. After she finished cleaning his mouth for him she reached up and ran her hand through his hair once, watching as the knots untangled themselves and the hair fell forward to hang stylishly over his forehead. Next she took both hands and smoothed them over his shoulders, smiling as the creases from their little bump and grind smoothed out. Sliding her hands over his hips, she resisted the urge to slip them around to his arse as the wrinkles in his trousers disappeared. Looking up at his still startled face, she gave him a saucy wink. Hermione wasn't quite sure what had come over her, she had never been brazen, but there was something about his presence that just made her feel... different, better.

Glancing over his shoulder, she spied the full length mirror in the corner. She stepped around him and approached it so that she could fix her own clothes, gently sweeping away the wrinkles and traces of previous activities. She made short work of her hair, running both hands through it to try and tame the wild curls. She managed to stop them from getting poofy but she couldn't quite put them back to their regular state of large, shiny ringlets that cascaded down her back. She needed time with some product and a hot iron to achieve that, not even magic could fix everything. Wryly, she thought for the millionth time that maybe she should try the potions instead of Muggle hair products.

She nodded at her reflection; it would have to do. She hadn't exactly been dressed up when she had rushed over to Draco's, in fact, he was looking significantly dressier than she was but there wasn't much she could do about that. She had what she had and to be fair, she was pretty sure Draco wasn't thinking about her clothes. By the look on his dumbstruck face, which she could see in the mirror since he had followed her over, she was pretty sure he was still trying to wrap his mind around her wandless magic. She turned to him and smiled.

"Ready?" she asked, as if nothing were amiss.

"How do you do that?" he asked, sounding more than a little awestruck. She added "impressed" to the list of mental things she had never seen Draco say or do in relation to her before.

"Harry helped me learn how to control it, he's had to become very good at it since he use to lose control over his magic on a regular basis," she said as if this were an everyday feat. She grinned a little at his stunned expression. "Did you know that Harry blew up his aunt when we were 13?"

Draco shook his head and Hermione nodded. "Yeah, apparently she was a right bitch and he just lost it. She swelled up like Hagrid's charmed pumpkins."

Draco shook his head again, slower this time. "And Potter taught you to do this? Wait, wait," he held up a hand as if trying to stop the thoughts in his head. "Potter taught you something? Isn't it usually the other way around."

Hermione grinned. "Usually, yeah."

Draco just sighed and shook his head. With a wry grin, he held out his hand to her. "Come on, let's go before any other fundamental laws of the universe are challenged before my very eyes."

"Harry teaching me something challenges the laws of the universe?" she queried.

"It's right up there with the earth no longer turning on its axis."

Hermione chuckled as they walked out of the room, enjoying the feel of his hand in hers, which was a surreal thought when she really focused on it. She was trying very hard not to do that, because it made her head hurt, and instead she gave her attention over to the obscene splendour of Malfoy Manor. As they walked, they passed pictures of previous Malfoy's on the wall; she could hear them chattering to each other as they flitted from picture to picture, studying her as much as she did them. They descended a staircase and were halfway through another gaudy hallway when Hermione recognized the papering on the wall and the suit of armour in the corner. She stopped dead.

Draco continued to walk at first until he felt Hermione's hand slip out of his. He turned around with a puzzled look on his face but it turned to shock and then fear as he took in the expression she wore. She could only imagine what she looked like as her eyes darted around her, taking in the slight changes from the last time she had been in this same corridor. It didn't matter that it had only been a few minutes that she had seen this part of the Manor, it was branded into her mind the same way everything that had happened in the sitting room was. Her frantic gaze landed on the closed doors to her left, doors that she knew led to a room with light violet wallpapering and a large chandelier in the center of the room. There would be a huge fireplace and perhaps the same rug that she had bled on. Maybe not the rug, she thought to herself, they probably got rid of that as soon as they threw us in the dungeons.

"Hermione," Draco said in a low but urgent voice. "Nothing here is going to hurt you."

"I...I...Draco, I can't," she whispered, not taking her eyes off of the doors to that room, not even when Draco stepped up to her so that he could touch her arms gently. He was tentative with his touch, almost as if he worried that the feel of his skin would upset her more. It didn't, in fact, she leaned in to him.

"I can't," she whispered as she pressed her face into his chest and his arms came around her at the same time that she grabbed on to him like a lifeline. "I'm sorry, I can't, I can't...I need...I have to go. I can't stay here, please."

Her voice broke on the last word and Draco's arms tightened around her as he called out for Kali, the House Elf. She appeared with a pop!

"Young Master is calling, Kali?" she squeaked.

"Yes, please tell my mother that I'm taking Hermione home, she's not well. I'll come back and speak to her later," he said. The Elf nodded, or at least Hermione assumed she did because the next thing Hermione knew there were two loud cracks and she found herself standing outside the Malfoy Manor, the gates to her right. Draco swayed slightly, leaning his weight against her for a second before he righted himself. She felt a pang of guilt—he shouldn't be Apparating yet.

"I can't Apparate us to your home, I don't know where it is. I brought you out here in the hopes that you would be able to concentrate enough to bring us to your place," Draco said softly, his arms still wrapped around her.

Hermione nodded once and released her death grip on Draco's waist with one hand so that she could reach into the special pocket inside her cardigan that held her wand. With it gripped in her hand, she re-wrapped both arms around the man in front of her, closed her eyes, and concentrated on the sanctuary that was her home.

A/N: So...how was that?