Disclosure Hp belongs to Jkr. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux
A/n next to the last- warning: smut.
Back at the balcony-
"Love, everyone is really busy, "Greg sat by Hermione and snuck his hand under the blanket.
Her eyebrow rose, "My, my, Lord Goyle, you are one very naughty wizard. "
His breath hitched, "Not nearly as much as you, no knickers."
A giggle behind them made Greg's mild temper raised a few octaves. "I don't care who hiding around, OUT!" It was young Kimmy, "Ms. Malfoy wants it a milk-shaken. "
"Is it strawberry?" Hermione asked, hopefully.
"Yes, missus Goyle, I 'means' Lady Malfoy."
Kimmy corrected herself giggling, and covering her mouth with her spindly hands; her giggle started a chain of elvish laughs along the corridor. Greg rolled his eyes, it sounded like the entire staff, including the retired ancient elves. Between Ephraim and the elves, privacy was difficult.
He wanted privacy, and the elves were being absolute pests. They were Hermione's fans, and when they discovered their legendary heroine, 'The Grangy,' was Hermione, every one of the elves asked Greg if they could go with him when/if he married Hermione. Of course, every one of the pesky creatures wanted to be a nanny or the lady's maid. They were cutthroats, Greg couldn't believe the gossipy elves. They had turned into virtual vermin as far as Greg was concerned.
"Leave them here, and everyone out." Greg moved them along with his hands. Two more elves came in, each carrying one item or two, then the second milkshake and cookies, and finally, two more rolled in with cold water, and lemonade. They could not get enough of Hermione, who was finding it rather charming and had to control her own giggles.
It was the second day back from Mungo, and the assistant Healer had stayed at her room the first night. But tonight, she was alone, and he was planning to stay with her.
"Lock the doors," Hermione told him in a low voice, "I want to be with you."
Greg's mouth went dry, and a moan escaped his lips. Frissons of desire made rapid circuits around his body until they woke up a hunger to have her right there. He was hard in a nanosecond. At present, his body felt torpid, heavy, and all he could think was of Hermione. He wanted to ask the Healer if it were too soon.
He did what he was told but finished going around the room and closed the balcony door.
He turned around, but he could not see her. He looked towards the bed, and there she was. Hermione's head rested on the pillow against the headboard, she was sipping the tall milkshake with a magic straw, and the only item of clothing was a thin silk coral red chemise that barely covered the top of her thighs. On the night table, next to the other side of the bed was Greg's glass.
She smiled devilishly and padded the side of her bed. He couldn't move and was frozen in place. "Give me a few," he croaked, barely audible. All his blood flow had gathered in on one location, his cock.
The darkness of the last days had been replaced by the soft light of hope of new beginnings. Her perfume enticed his senses. When Hermione came home two days ago, he had slept in the room next to hers, well, not sleep, he had been tormented the entire night, and now she was on the bed waiting for him.
He pulled his wand out and was grateful to be wearing silk shorts today. He wore the blue-yins [sic] Hermione had asked Luna to buy for him, and they were, presently, too tight. Using his wand, he spelled them off too but first pulled the small box out the pocket.
His eyes were fixed on her. The only sounds were his ragged breathing and the loud beating of his heart.
Greg wanted to admire the beauty in front of him. Her belly was very round, yet not an ounce of fat. From his vantage point, she reminded him of one of the Muggle paintings in the main receiving room. Her long hair, still curly was semi-tamed. Two young elves had partly braided her, just at the top, and the rest of the hair fell in cascades, leaving her enlarged breasts flowing out the chemise for his viewing.
He started walking towards the bed, but his legs were made out of lead. He walked as fast as his legs could take him, never breaking contact with her eyes. His skin felt hot, his eyes were heavy. Before he knew it, he was in front of her. Greg put the drink to the side and kneeled by the bed waiting for him.
He fell on his knees with his head at the height of her waist. His arms surrounded her. He rubbed his cheek over and over her swollen belly and put his ear trying to hear the babies; they were fluttering around, and a tiny kick or a punch greeted him, he smiled but not for long. His hands traced her body, learning each curve, and lust made him hungry for more.
He traced the outline of her heavy breasts with his fingertips. He wanted to take his time, but the urgency was too great. He had read the book 'How to make love to your pregnant witch,' about ten times, it was a present from Rabastan, and he thanked him.
A thought distracted him, come to think of it, Rabastan had bought two of the same book, plus their library had a few on the subject, and he had seen several more since the Lestrange had moved into the guest rooms. The idea of Rabastan getting ready to shag his mother was nearly enough to deflate his erection, then, he had to smile, he was being ridiculous, who was he to talk? So closing that subject, he lowered the strap of her chemise and uncovered her breast.
"So perfect, so beautiful," his lips closed around the nipple, one hand covering one breast, and the other one exploring until they were both moaning. He brought one arm under Hermione's knees as he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he sat in the bed with her on his lap, although he was no longer sure of what he was doing.
His lips closed upon hers, already surrounded by a haze of desire, just caught in a frenzy of need. Once again he stood up to lie with her on the bed, he pulled a few pillows under her bum, then slowly let go of her mouth. His trembling fingers traced her face, and then all the way down to her mound. He lay on his side, slithering down like the snake he was.
Hermione's eyes were open; she could only see the top of his head. His lips followed the hot trail left by his caressing finger until he reached the swollen nether lips. Her scent made him groan, "Hermione, you are so beautiful," He could not get enough from her.
When his mouth arrived at the neatly trimmed mound, upon touching her nether lips, warm and moist, he hissed at her taste; his tongue moved everywhere, his finger followed the lead. He felt her wet entrance and cried in need. His tongue went inside of her slick sex but could not get enough of her taste. She moved her leg over his shoulder while her hand caressed his head.
"More, yes, there, oh gods, yes," as his mouth moved over her hard clit, her body contracted in great pleasure, her hips clearing off the bed.
He felt her shudders, as he added a finger. He groaned every time she moved her hips, "Hermione, oh gods, I want to be inside. May I? Is it too soon? I will do whatever you think is right," he asked, his voice thick with desire.
The thought of finally being there made him forget his surroundings. All he wanted was to be deep inside of her. His only thoughts were to be one with her, and it was taking him all his will not to force his will upon hers. His cock was pulsating furiously, he was ready, gods he wanted her.
She was talking, but he could hardly hear, "Greg, later, slow later, need, need inside. Need to feel alive, no more mouth, you, you, want to forget the darkness, the horror."
She was pulling his head up to hers. He moved up and embraced her from behind; he moved her leg over his. He was an expert, well he had read enough and knew his moves. She was near to her 23rd week in this accelerated schedule, and he wanted to make the experience pleasurable and safe. So he turned her head around, kissed her slowly, and let her mouth go.
Her hand closed upon his, and she brought up to her lips, she kissed his hand, and licked his fingers; "Let me turn around, just a bit." He lowered her leg and turned her around with great care.
Hermione couldn't get over how gentle he was and anticipating all her needs, totally in tune with her. A little like Draco, but even more, his passion burned deep and hard for her, it made her want to please him.
She stopped on his index finger, and put in inside her mouth, in the pretense of fellatio. Her other hand sought and found her target, hot, throbbing, and ready." Love, kitten, touch me, do it," his hand stretched seeking her heat.
She did just that, marveled on his size, and his desire for her, he was also dripping just as she was; and, once again, worried about his size; yes, concerned, yet she wanted him. She let go of the finger in her mouth and bit her lip. He could see the worry in her face.
"My little kitten, I promise to be very careful, whenever we are ready, and I will stop when you tell me, okay?" At this, she moved her leg over his hip, but facing him, she had also read the same book but found it was difficult.
"May I," his cock was over her thigh, she was just caressing it, assessing, thinking.
He heard a low humming sound, which was apparently acquiescent since she moved closer to him. Finally, his cock was just at the entrance. He could just push his hips forward and be in; his body was shaking with need but was afraid to hurt her, she was no longer afraid and wanted to feel him inside.
"Are you sure? I don't want to injure you."
Although it had been longer than a year since she had been with anyone, she wanted this wizard with such an intensity that she just could not understand. She could feel his prick hard and warm against her inner thigh, just outside of her vagina. Darn, he really felt big, and she could not remember if she were right.
"Greg, Greg, listen—if a baby can come through, you are not as wide as the girth as one." They both chuckled, not without some concern. She nearly asked a stupid question about what Millicent had said, and had a momentary attack of unwarranted jealousy. Instead, she said, "You haven't injured any witch before, have you?"
Greg knew not to answer a loaded question instead ignored it. Hermione knew it was best to bury the past.
"I need you, it isn't too soon, just go slowly," her voice was very low, seductive.
He nodded, but feeling her entrance and barely inside, he still judged it too painful for her. When he pushed inside, she moaned in what sounded like pain, it was.
But the desire was too intense, "Hermione, love, tell me if it is too much, I need you. Forever, I do." His hips were pushing forward, her heat, and the tightness around his cock caused intense pleasure. He was losing control, and his soft cries made her mind foggy with lust. She relaxed more.
The pressure was too delicious, too exquisite, "I love you, love you. So tight, love it," her hand was digging on his back, it was painful, yet really great.
Though the stretching was painful, the pleasure waves traveling through both of them were akin to nirvana, yet he sensed her discomfort. "It is better, slow, so good," she whispered shuddering with pleasure.
His hips moved forward. His breath strangled; it took great effort to pull away, to move her towards him. He kneeled on the bed and sat over his feet, "Love, I will hold you, lower yourself onto me, you decide. Please do what you wish, take what you can, I am sorry, it is not more comfortable," he placed his chin on her head, and she laughed nervously. What wizard would apologize for being too large? It was adorable.
She decided, and in one push, she lowered herself until she was virtually impaled on him. Her walls were contracting; she felt the fluttering and cramp-like spasms. And still she was unable to take all of him, so she just waited on top of him, as his body shook in pleasure.
She thought of the babies afraid of the pain that maybe it was too much, however, now it was changing into pure pleasure. They both just stayed still. Greg lowered his head and caught one of her nipples; he was keening, his hips wanting to move, his thighs trembling; his hand moved down, just above their joining and played with her clit. Although she was still frozen, his touch made her shift her hips.
"Hermione, let me, please, I will be gentle," He kissed her face, her shoulders, grabbed her bum, his hand moved, gently but firmly just one side, and that was all it took.
She rocked gently, and he helped her. After that, it was all a word of sensation and love. Both calling each others names, all the pain of the years in Azkaban, the abuse, the fears, the tortures, all washed away in this sea of pleasure.
His thrusts were gentle, but fast, he wanted more. Hermione encouraged him, her teeth clamped on his shoulder, her body tensed, and the waves of an orgasm washed over her. He held her with care as if she would break. Both lowered their eyes, his face flushed with love, and lost, he looked at his cock just inside of her and held her very tight.
"Hermione, do you like me, is it good for you?" His voice was barely there.
"Yes, yes, oh, god." Holding on to her, he made her lie on her side, so this way, he could be behind her.
This was better for her, gods he wanted fast, to pound into her. "You can do faster, go ahead," her voice came to him from a distance.
Oh yes, his tempo increased as he kissed her wherever he could, it was pure madness. On one second he was kissing her, the next his mouth was fixed on her neck, her shoulders, his hands were all over, imparting the sense of urgency into her.
The contractions massaged him in all directions, he was right against her cervix, and the sensations were like nothing before. It was coming; he felt the pressure build-up. He didn't want to close his eyes, a part of him wanted to remember her forever just like this.
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," he thrust in and out of her; never before had he experienced such feeling of completeness. He wanted to hear from her, the sensations consumed him, never, never had it been like this, even his body made a perfect bow.
Hermione heard the multiple, I love you, but it was too soon, even though they had lived a lifetime in less than a day, "Greg, my love, my Greg."
In her womb, the children, Severus and Henri, felt love wash over them.
'Turn me around turn me. You on to me," he did both, clumsily, with his hands over her bum, grabbed her lips to breathe over her lips, he could not concentrate enough to kiss.
"Hermione, I am coming, oh gods, be mine, be my wife, be mine. Please be mine." This wasn't the way he was going to propose either.
His thrusts were fast, he couldn't slow down, "Sorry, am I too fast, can't stop, tell me. "
Hermione couldn't remember these swells of pleasure; it must be the hormones, she thought vaguely.
"Tell me. Please tell me," as he turned her face around to lay his mouth on hers. He supported his weight on one elbow.
She would forever be in wonder of what came out her lips, "Yes, yes, yours, your wife, yes, hold me now." Her teeth clamped over his shoulders. She did not want to scream. What a sensation, what was this?
They both climaxed hard, and she heard an unrecognizable sound, passion.
The yes registered in the back of his mind, and he did something crazy, still imbedded on her, he stood with her in his arms still coming, and his legs trembling. Standing, holding her by her bum, he covered her with frenetic kisses.
"Will you, for real? Please say it again," He loved her, he had loved her as long as he had known her, his impossible love. He felt hard again, and knelt on the floor, moving inside of her, he sat her on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, my good wizard, yes, I will be yours." She was happy, and it wasn't just the sex; it was because of her father, her life, her children, and he was indeed her good wizard.
He kissed her tenderly, and moving her again, he sat with her on his lap and continued making love to her.
The last of the children, a little girl, received its soul. Someone whose life had been cut to short by the last war, one day, Greg would figure it out.
During their lives, it would be like this many a time. This was not a one time event. His thrusts kept going, and after some minutes, they were both riding another wave and passed out from the intensity of their orgasms.
Jealousy and Malfoys
They practically stayed in her room for several days. Draco and Harry would not even talk to each other, both consumed with jealousy. Lucius was aware, and he was conflicted because he loved Greg, but Draco was his flesh and blood.
Think, Lucius think, killing Greg is probably not a good idea, even if it is rather tempting considering the powerful babies that our Hermione has in her womb. Moreover she is a Malfoy, and should stay so; Henry would agree. Lucius' thoughts were running wild trying to find a solution for Draco, and he would always come to the same place: get rid of Harry, a nice young Wizard, and of Greg, his companion in Azkaban. He wished there was another solution, but if there was one, he couldn't find it. He wanted the witch to be a Malfoy, only for their family, alas, he hadn't changed, not one iota. he just needed to be careful not to be caught. How could have Draco been that daft?