AUTHOR'S NOTE: JKR is the sole owner of Harry Potter. I'm just messing around.
*I'm very sorry for the delay. 2 weeks ago I was laid off from my job (my first post undergrad job and I LOVED it) so I've been rather depressed but I'm back now. Please be warned of yummy Lemons in this chapter.*
His son had been pacing outside the door to his study for precisely 27 minutes and 39 seconds before finally gathering the courage to knock. It had then taken another 4 minutes and 12 seconds after inviting him in for Draco to actually cross the threshold and shut the door behind him.
Lucius drew on his years of being the cool, collected Malfoy patriarch in order to stifle his smirk as his son fidgeted in front of him. Of course, he could just spare the boy from all the anxiety… but then again, this was really another Malfoy rite of passage. After all, he still vividly remembered the day he fell to his knees in front of his own father- Abraxas Malfoy- and begged him (yes, begged him like a commoner) for permission to ask for Narcissa Black's hand in marriage. He still remembered the gnawing fear that his father would say no. He still remembered thinking that even if his father did say no, he would just marry her anyway- consequences be damned.
Yes, it would be good to Draco to experience that as well- if for no other reason than to be forced to admit to himself how he felt for the little lioness. It wasn't as if they didn't know; Blaise had been rather open to them both regarding Draco's internal struggle with the whole soulmate thing from the beginning.
"Father," Draco began shakily, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he stopped to draw in a deep breath through his sharp nose. After 46 more seconds, he tried again- this time, his voice stronger. "Father."
Gods, had it ever been so difficult to contain himself? He rather thought not. Lucius carefully schooled his expression to be completely blank and neutral as he surveyed his son from across the desk, "Good evening, Draco. Is there something I can do for you? Your mother had mentioned that you had plans with the others this evening."
The boy nodded softly, "We are going to something called a 'cinema' around eight in London. Muggle but… I've been assured I will enjoy it."
"So soon?" Lucius' icy gaze flitted unnecessarily to the heavy clock above the mantle that read 7:35. "Then you are cutting it quite close. There must be something important on your mind for you to be seeking me out now. What is it, son?"
Draco, in true Hermione Granger fashion, nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment before straightening his spine and meeting Lucius' hard eyes, "I can't imagine my life without her."
Lucius' pale brows nearly hit his hairline. That was most certainly not how he'd expected the conversation to begin, "Oh?"
"I know that you wanted someone Pureblood for me, I know you've planned on that since I was a boy but things are… they're different now."
Draco thought he intended to fight against the little lioness who saved his life and his family? Interesting. "Different how? I've spoken with the Ministry and I have been assured that there is, indeed, no actual binding magic tying the world's 'soulmates' together. The Minister himself has shown me the research and, while I cannot decipher all of it, I was able to discern that a person's free-will has not been affected."
"It has nothing to do with any of that," his son breathed, a rather dreamy look glazing his steel gray eyes. "The Ministry… whatever they did, whatever they put in the water- it doesn't matter. The way I feel for her has nothing to do with soul magic."
The smug smirk was so close to breaking through his façade but Lucius held it back, "No? You're quite sure?"
"Father," he stepped forward until his hands gripped the edge of the desk, "I have never been surer of anything in my entire life. Even back at Hogwarts I felt this way, I just… I didn't… I couldn't…"
"No," Lucius agreed, guilt twisting like a knife in his chest. "I suppose not."
"I know she isn't what you envisioned for me, that a Muggle-born would have never been your choice for your only son, but…" Draco looked up at him, expression both determined and yet terrified at the same time. "It's her. There will never be anyone else and if… if I can't have her then I don't want anyone at all. Please, father. I'm painfully aware that she is entirely too good for me, but for some reason that I still can't fathom, she wants me as well. I know how you feel about her blood but… after everything she's done for us, after knowing how I feel for her, I would hope that you could look past that. Mother positively adores her, Blaise practically moves mountains for her, and I… I love her."
His lips twitched, "Is that so?"
Most unexpectedly, Draco- his aristocratic, spoiled, Pureblood heir- dropped to his knees on the expensive Oriental rug and lowered his head, "Please, father. Please, let me give her one of the Malfoy jewels as a gift. I want her to wear it when we attend the Ministry's Christmas ball together."
So many surprises tonight! Narcissa and Blaise were adamant that he was in love with Hermione, but neither of them mentioned just how serious his son was taking the entire situation. It would seem that even Lucius had underestimated his only child. Giving the Muggle-born witch one of the Malfoy jewels was big, but having her wear it in public was positively scandalous. Having her wear it to a Ministry-sanctioned holiday event as a very clear declaration of their relationship status was unheard of. The Prophet was going to have a field day and anyone in the Wizarding World who understood the old ways was probably going to send hexed Howlers and poisoned letters.
How utterly delightful.
"We'll need to increase the security around the grounds," Lucius nodded as he scrawled across a piece of parchment. "We should also think about employing someone from the Ministry to monitor our mail going forward as well. Mmmm… better strengthen the wards around the outer gates, too. You can never be too careful these days…"
Draco's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he gaped at his father from the floor.
He looked up, one brow raised, "Why are you still standing there? If you intend on choosing an appropriate jewel for her before you are supposed to meet everyone in London, you'd better get down to the treasury. You have exactly 17 minutes before they expect you."
His son still looked dumbfounded, "You… you're saying you approve?"
"I am."
"And you understand that I'm giving her this gift with the intention of making her my wife?"
"I do."
"And you realize that she will be the first non-Pureblooded witch to ever marry into the Malfoy family?"
"That fact is rather hard to miss, so yes."
Lucius was a man of many regrets- one of which was the harsh, cold way in which he had been forced to raise his son during the war. But though he regretted many choices, he was suddenly very glad he chose to break Malfoy tradition and openly show affection to his wife in front of his son. He had always loved Narcissa with a fierceness that was often overwhelming, even to himself, and he had never shied away from showing it. He could not remember ever even seeing his parents in the same room, let alone seeing them affectionate with one another, but he could conjure a thousand patronuses with the sheer number of memories he had of kissing his wife or declaring his love for her- often in front of Draco. Lucius had made many, many mistakes, but loving his wife enough to be ready to defy his own father had never been one of them.
The look on his son's face was a mirror-image of his own memory. He loved Hermione the way Lucius loved Narcissa. How could something as insignificant as blood-status matter in the face of something like that? Quite simply, it didn't. Even if they hadn't ended up as soulmates and Draco had still chosen her, Lucius' answer would have been the same.
Besides, he was rather fond of the little lioness already. After all, she had cared for his wife and his ancestral home all while working to free him and his son from Azkaban. That was a rather large blow to his Pureblood supremacist ideals right there. Add in the fact that she really was a lovely girl with a heart far too large for her own good… he'd never stood a chance.
Draco's eyes were glossy and he cleared his throat a few times before getting back to his feet and dusting the knees of his tailored trousers. He looked at the floor for a few more seconds before a broken sound escaped from his throat and he came darting around the desk to throw his long arms around Lucius, "Thank you. I can't even… just… thank you."
Tears stung the corner of his eyes but he blinked them away and patted his son's back comfortingly, "The way you look at her is the way I've always looked at your mother, Draco. That kind of love, the kind that you would do anything for, is a rare and precious thing. Despite all my faults, that is something I have always wanted for you. And quite frankly, I'm not entirely sure that there is anyone else in this world quite like our Hermione."
Draco's grip on his father tightened, "She is ours, isn't she?"
He chuckled softly, "She has been for a very long time, I imagine."
The Floo came roaring to life then, Blaise's disembodied head appearing in the emerald flames with a smug smirk, "I think it's safe to assume it went well. You know- I am going to get so tired of saying 'I told you so' by the time this is all over and done."
Draco slumped back against the desk and wiped at his wet cheeks as he let out a breathy laugh, "Somehow I find that hard to believe."
"You're right, I live for it. Now get your ass over here before Hermione skins us all for making her miss the previews."
Lucius nudged him towards the Floo, "Go on. You can go through the treasury tonight after she's asleep."
He visibly hesitated.
"I won't change my mind," he assured Draco softly. "I have been waiting for you to approach me with something like this for quite some time. Whatever you think of me, I can promise that Hermione's blood-status is no longer an issue. Your mother and I love her, and we think she will make an exceptionally terrifying Malfoy. We're rather looking forward to it."
That seemed to appease him and Draco smiled- a true, genuine smile- before crossing the room and disappearing into the flames of the Floo.
"Miffy?" Lucius called into the empty office as soon as the flames died away.
The tiny house-elf appeared with a broad smile, "Miffy is here, Master Lucius! What can Miffy do for Master tonight?"
He handed the elf an intricate solid gold skeleton key, "Please leave this in Draco's room. I've given him permission to use it until he finds what he needs."
Miffy's large eyes brightened, "Yes of course, Master Lucius! Miffy will bring it to his room right away!" She tightened her bony fingers around the key, bouncing in place. "Oh yes, Miffy is most excited for another wedding!"
His eyes were still stinging as the house-elf bounded out of the room, "We all are, Miffy. We all are."
x-x-x
"This 'film' is utterly fucking ridiculous," Draco scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is this what muggles really think we're like?"
Hermione chuckled at his disdain, "I had a feeling you'd like it."
"I have yet to see a single impressive dungeon. And is that really what they think dragons are supposed to look like? Merlin have mercy, it's no wonder Muggle-borns are so amazed by the Wizarding World if this is what they're comparing it to. Is that… is the lipstick supposed to make the villain more menacing? I don't understand this at all. Do you truly find this entertaining? How can you enjoy something with such glaring inaccuracies?"
She shrugged, snuggling further into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. A feeling of warmth and contentment spread through her chest, "It's meant to be silly, Draco. Besides, I'm just happy to be here with you."
His gray eyes softened and he pressed his lips to her forehead before turning back to the screen. It only took a few seconds for him to snort softly, "Considering the strength of their Notice-Me-Not charm, I'd say Blaise and Potter are happy to be here together as well. Though I somehow never pegged them as the type for being lascivious in public."
Hermione flushed a little and cleared her throat softly, "Muggles do that sort of thing all the time. It's actually a pretty common occurrence in the back of dark cinemas."
His brows raised as he looked over at her, "But they don't have things like Notice-Me-Not charms… do they?"
"No… they don't."
From the flashes of light on the screen, she could see that his cheeks were tinged pink as well. Hermione's stomach was twisting with desire at the idea of his hands on her, at the idea of him touching her after years of only fantasizing about it, and this time there was no shoving it away behind Occlumency walls. Draco had taken his last dose of suppression potion the previous night and had not requested more from Theo… which meant that his own roaring desire was battering her from the inside out. Draco's eyes met hers for a long moment before he slowly slid his wand from his pocket and muttered his own concealment charm around them. After slipping his wand back into its place, he brought one leg up onto the plush seat and turned to face her.
"D-Draco…" Hermione stammered, her heart hammering thunderously in her chest at his sudden proximity. "We don't have to… I wasn't expecting—"
His pale hand slid from her knee up to her thigh; from her thigh up to her waist; from her waist up to the curve of her neck. His thumb brushed across her cheek as he whispered, "You forgot to use Occlumency, love."
She swallowed thickly, "I…"
"I can feel it- the way you want me…" Draco leaned forward, his lips grazing her jaw. She shivered and he groaned quietly. "Fucking hell, I'm practically drunk on it."
"Draco," Hermione clenched her fists in an attempt at regaining control of herself, "I don't want to rush you."
"I'm not hiding my emotions from you anymore. Do you feel any hesitation? Any fear or uncertainty?"
The pads of his fingers danced across her collarbone and she whimpered.
"Let it consume you, for just a moment," he crooned against her skin. "Dive into what I feel, headfirst, without any restraint for a few seconds and then tell me."
Hermione closed her eyes and dropped the tight leashes of control that she always held onto like lifelines. She abandoned her own emotions, her own thoughts and feelings, in order to fully experience his instead for the very first time. The myriad of Draco's emotions rocked through her and swept across her psyche like a tidal wave. His love for her felt like a blanket of warm silk slipping across her skin and his personal insecurity was like an icy wind across a cold sea. The fierce determination to be healthy and normal prickled at her arms and legs like acupuncture needles and the utter bliss he felt at being hers was like rays of summer sunshine on her face.
But the desire… Gods, the desire for her was like Fiendfyre being cast on the surface of the sun at the height of summer on the equator while being doused in petrol. The flames of his need, his want licked at her skin from the top of her scalp to the tips of her toes. It felt like a nearly sexual Crucio- the height of mind-numbing pleasure and excruciating pain intermingling until they were one in the same. She was drowning in it, suffocating on it, asphyxiated by it- and she never, ever wanted it to end. For years, Hermione had fantasized about Draco but never in all that time had she imagined anything like this. Never had she imagined just what being utterly consumed by him would feel like.
It was like all the drugs and alcohols in the entire world being combined into one heady cocktail and injected directly into her bloodstream.
"Tell me," his voice, like liquid passion, broke through the fog of everything she felt. "Tell me what you felt."
Hermione came back to herself and pressed her thighs together, capable of only whimpering his name, "Draco…"
His fingers twisted around the curls at the nape of her neck and he crashed his lips against hers, his tongue delving into her mouth as if the meaning to life was hidden in a crevice near the back of her throat. She clutched at his arms and Draco groaned, nipping at her lower lip with his perfect teeth. Molten desire pooled low in her abdomen and sent little shivers down her spine as he tugged at her hair possessively. Draco- always cool, ever composed, impeccably calm Draco- dragged his hands across her body almost desperately as his breath came in harsh, ragged pants. The sound of his labored breathing, the knowledge that it was because of how badly he wanted her, ruined whatever was left of her knickers.
His palms cupped her breasts and her head fell back against the chair.
His fingers twisted her nipples and she gasped sharply.
He ripped open the buttons of her sensible shirt and she dug her nails into the skin of his arms.
"I've imagined this a thousand different ways," Draco admitted, his words shaky as he yanked the cups of her bra down to expose her breasts. She cracked her eyes open just enough to see that he was utterly enraptured with the sight of her and she groaned a little, thrusting her chest towards him. His voice cracked, "Merlin have fucking mercy on me."
The moment Hermione felt his hands on her bare chest, she mewled like a kitten, "Oh Gods, yessssssss…"
Draco leaned forward to flick the tip of his tongue across one of her nipples and her hand involuntarily moved up to grip his hair in her fist.
He immediately froze, all muscles locking in place as if he were carved from stone.
Hermione's eyes snapped open, "Oh my Gods, Draco I am so sorry. I didn't mean to… it just happened and I—"
Draco's liquid silver eyes flickered up to hers, "Harder."
Her eyes widened, "W-what?"
He very slowly moved closer and tugged one of her nipples between his teeth without ever breaking eye contact, "I said… be a good girl and pull harder."
The dark, sensuous timbre of his voice seared across her brain and Gods above, did she ever want anything as badly as she wanted to be his good girl? Hermione gave herself over to the desire, to the all-consuming conflagration Draco inspired within her and allowed herself to become a slave to it… just for a little while.
She tugged on his white-blond hair and his eyes slid closed for a quick moment.
One of his pale hands kneaded her breast and the other was undoing the button on her jeans as he smirked, "You can do better than that."
She pulled harder.
Draco visibly shivered but recovered quickly. His fingers paused at the waist of her knickers and their eyes met. One of his brows raised in question.
Hermione bit her lip and nodded fiercely.
His grin was wicked, one- two- three fingers dancing beneath the thin fabric to brush through the neat hair between her thighs before he stopped.
Her entire body was almost vibrating in anticipation for his touch, "Gods, Draco please…"
Draco sat up, his lips brushing against her ear as he breathed, "Pull. Fucking. Harder."
With that, Hermione twisted her fingers around his silky blond locks and yanked as hard as she could. His eyes rolled back and he let out a sharp hiss before simultaneously lunging forward to capture her mouth in a searing kiss and slipping one of his fingers between her lower lips and into her dripping heat. She gasped into his mouth as he dragged some of the moisture from her channel up to her swollen clit, rubbing in slow, tortuous circles and effectively short-circuiting the neurological pathways in her brain. It was as if his touch was causing all of her synapses to stop firing while also sending them into synchronized overdrive. There was only his hands and his fingers and his lips and his tongue and his eyes and his voice. Nothing else in the world registered anymore. All Hermione knew was that she was on fire and nothing else could possibly scorch her any further.
And then he spoke.
"Years," Draco growled against her mouth. "I've dreamed of touching you for years. Back in school, I imagined dragging you behind one of the tapestries and burying my face in your sweet little cunt until your knees gave out. I imagined fucking you in the Arithmancy classroom while you tried to work out a complicated equation. I imagined making love to you in the Prefect's bath under the moonlight while spilling my heart to you." He slid one finger inside of her, biting his lip when she whimpered again. When her breathing evened out, he gently pushed a second one into her heat and Hermione nearly cried out with the feeling of him stretching her. "I wanked to fantasies of you for years… and now you're finally mine. I fantasized about touching you in a hundred different ways… but the reality is so much better than I ever anticipated. You are fucking perfect, my darling Persephone. You are fucking perfect and I am the worst kind of idiot for ever trying to fight this. Can you forgive me?" Draco pumped his two long, slender fingers in and out of her slowly, the heel of his hand pressing against her nub and wringing moans and hisses and mewls from the back of her throat. "I will give you anything your heart desires, anything in the world- all you have to do is ask. My heart is yours to command, Hermione, in any way you see fit. You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you."
"You," Hermione breathed sharply, her fingers tightening in his hair as the coil of pleasure wound higher and higher and higher. "I just want you, Draco. Just you. Always you. You. You. You."
He rubbed against her clit faster, nuzzling against her throat, "You have me, my lovely girl. I'm yours."
At that, Hermione felt the coil of searing pleasure snap and her entire world exploded into a brilliant smattering of lights and colors that momentarily blinded her. Her limbs went fuzzy as a harsh, almost painful wave of warmth flooded her from the inside out. From deep beneath the crashing typhoon of bliss, Hermione somehow registered the look of utter reverence on Draco's face as he watched her ride out the very first orgasm he ever gave her against his hand. The way he studied her half-lidded eyes and open mouth, the way his silver irises cataloged every single emotion that flickered across her face, the sheer awe and devotion reflected back at her…
How was it possible to love one person so much? How did her heart have the capacity to contain the way she felt for him? It seemed impossible.
Draco gently removed his hand from her body.
It seemed impossible.
He waved his wand silently to Scourgify them both.
It seemed impossible.
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers in a chaste, almost shy gesture.
It seemed impossible.
He pulled back and he watched her… waiting…
It seemed impossible.
Hermione couldn't fight the watery smile, though she did her best to hold the tears back.
It seemed impossible.
Draco smiled back with one of his crooked, genuine smiles that she coveted above all others.
It seemed impossible… but the love she felt for him grew a little more anyway.
"I think I like the muggle cinema," Draco smirked at her, straightening his clothes. "We should come here again sometime."
Blaise's dark hand suddenly came down on Draco's shoulder, "Going by the sounds Hermione was making, coming here doesn't seem to be an issue. Your silencing spell, or lack thereof however, could be improved upon."
Hermione blushed furiously as she worked on straightening her own clothes, "Oh Merlin, just kill me now."
Harry chuckled from behind Blaise, one hand rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, "Blaise is right, 'Mione. You're like my sister so I could really go the rest of my life without ever hearing anything like that again."
Draco was completely unrepentant as he shrugged, "You could have silenced us."
"And miss the auditory confirmation that Hermione was finally getting some?" Blaise snorted, rolling his eyes. "Never."
"Told you they were voyeurs," he nudged Hermione's shoulder, winking. "We'll have to be more careful from now on."
"Excuse me, but I believe the exact word you used was 'lascivious'."
Hermione stamped her foot, face burning scarlet, "You were listening from the beginning, you perverts! Gods, I hate you all!"
The three men did a very poor job of stifling their chuckles as they followed the fuming witch out of the cinema and onto the busy London street. Harry wrapped one of his arms around Hermione's shoulders and kissed her temple, "Love you, 'Mione."
Blaise followed suit, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her opposite temple, "Love you, fiery little Gryffindor."
Draco came up behind her and slid one of his long arms between her neck and shoulder to drape over her chest, kissing the top of her head, "Love you, my darling girl."
Hermione huffed with frustration, "Will you three let go of me? People will think I'm starting a harem!"
Her three boys simply laughed and continued to lead her to the Apparition point with their arms around her.
*Ok, so the Pride and Prejudice quote is about 5 years too soon for this particular story but, eh. I don't care.*
