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Chapter 25 -
He wanted her. It was more than desire. It was more than love. It was indescribable, what he felt for her. He had never felt it before, and he was certain he would never feel it again. In fact, he was certain no man had ever felt for a woman, what he felt for her.
He kept his arms straight, holding his body off hers, as far as he could. He looked down at her beautiful face, closely, and said, "Do you know how much I want and desire you? Well, do you?"
Hermione didn't know what to say. It was a rhetorical question, anyway, so instead of trying to put what she felt for him into words, she put her hand flat against his cheek. He shut his eyes, and leaned into her touch. That was his answer.
He pushed himself away from her, and walked over to the corner of the room. He needed to compose himself. He said, "Give me a moment."
She smiled. She loved that she had that kind of power over him. She would never admit as much, but she did. His affect on her was pretty powerful as well. She sat up in the bed, and pulled down the covers, folding them at the end. It was a single bed, too small for two, put she hoped he might join her, just for a while. She got under the sheet, and said, "Draco, before you come to bed, will you open the window?"
He turned to look at her. She was a wirily one, wasn't she. Almost manipulative. She knew the affect she had on him. Did she really think he would be able to share a bed with her tonight, and keep it from being a "Mature" rated story? He went over and opened the window, as requested, and then sat down on the bed. He put his hand on her arm, he just needed contact, as he stroked it up and down, he asked, "Are you tired?"
"Exhausted, actually," she admitted.
He leaned down and kissed her arm. He stood up and said, "Then, I will go on to my room. Your window is open, as requested. I love you, and I'll see you when you wake in the morning."
She propped herself up on her arms, ready to protest, but he opened the door, and started to the hall. He turned and said, "Honestly, Granger, I'm not a saint. I'm a man, with desires, made of flesh and blood, and I don't have the fortitude to stay in the same bed with you, and not make love to you. It doesn't mean I don't love you. In fact, it means the opposite. If I didn't love you so much, I would never in my life dream of leaving your bed. Goodnight, my love, and pleasant dreams." He shut the door, but remained in the hallway; hand on the doorknob, for many long minutes. He contemplated opening the door, many, many, times. Finally, he crossed the hall, and went to his own room.
He sat on one of the twin beds in this room, and hung his head. He fought with his desire. He wanted to go back to her. Perhaps he could just 'hold' her all night. He stood up, to go to her, but then sat back down. He knew he couldn't. He kicked off his shoes. He went and opened his window, pulled down the covers, removed his shirt, socks, and slacks, and sat back down. He fell back on the bed, in only his silk boxers, crossing his feet at the ankles. He looked around for his jacket, to find his wand so he could caste a cooling charm. He saw it on the other bed. He stood up to retrieve the jacket, when he heard the door open. He turned around, and there she was in his doorway. The light from the hall acted as a backdrop, framing her body in shadow and light. The only light in the room was the light coming from the full moon outside. She looked at his face, and he turned to look at her.
She walked in the room, shutting the door behind her. Without a word to the other, they ran to each other's arms. He held her at arms length, before kissing her sweet mouth. He bent his head and kissed her long neck gently. He said, "Hermione, if you don't leave now, I want it made clear that you alone are responsible for what is about to happen."
"I understand," she said. He guided her smoothly to the bed. They kissed hungrily, and their bodies intertwined with the other. It was muscle verses soft skin, broad shoulder verses graceful legs, hard verses soft, dark verses light. Desire crept from every fiber of his being, and gnawed away at his soul.
Fingers, lips, arms, and legs, dancing a time honoured graceful dance, which was known through the ages, and appreciated by all. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and she in return offered him small tentative caresses. Kissing turned to more, much, much more, and they knew it was real. It was right. Nimble fingers touched places longing to be touched, graceful mouths kissing places longing to be kissed.
As Draco's mouth slid over her body, across its planes and peaks, she hummed softly, as if he was fine-tuning her. Soon, a loud explosion, a triumph, a victory was won. It was all over too soon, but thanks to the heavens, it happened. It was appreciated, it was true, it was right, and it was real.
He held her in his arms, and she stroked his chest. She began to cry, and she propped herself up to look at him. He put a hand to her face, capturing one of her tears. "Why do you cry, Granger?" He sat up, holding her, as she tried to escape. "Hey, where are you going? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, that's just it," she said, pulling the sheet around her body, and sitting on the side of the bed. He quickly put his boxers back on, and sat beside her. "It was perfect. It was what should have happened. I feel complete. I feel like we have been toying with the prospect of this moment all afternoon, and all night, and this was meant to be." She put her hands up to her face, and continued to cry.
"Then why are you crying, you silly thing?" he asked.
"Because, Draco, what if this is all we have? What if this is the pinnacle of our relationship? After this, we can't go back. We shouldn't have rushed this. We've rushed the whole day, and we shouldn't have rushed this," she said sincerely.
"Do you love me?" he asked.
"Yes," she almost whined.
"Then nothing is wrong. We did the right thing. Please, please, don't say you regret it. I will never forgive myself, if you say you regret it," he said, pulling her to his side.
"I don't regret it," she said. "I just want everything to go right this time. I want everything to be perfect."
He lay back down, pulling her down to his side. He said, "Goodness, Granger, nothing is perfect. Things won't always be right. Don't set us up for a fall. It's okay to have high expectations, but don't forget to be fallible. We're human, after all. We will make mistakes, and we will have regrets. That's life."
"How did you get to be so wise?" she asked.
"It comes naturally." He smiled.
She said, "I feel like I threw caution to the wind, for the first time in my life, and now I don't know what to do. What is expected of me?"
"You ARE silly. I don't expect anything. What do you expect from me?" he asked.
"Just don't change how you feel. Please, I couldn't survive if one more person fell out of love with me," she said solemnly. Her words were so sad, that it almost broke his heart. He hated Ron Weasley, yet, if the man hadn't broken Hermione's heart, Draco would never have been able to mend it for her. It was a full circle.
He decided to change the subject to something lighter. "So, how many children shall we have, Granger? I say four. Two girls, two boys, to keep everything even."
"I want a large family," she said. "Four sounds good. What will their names be?"
"Our first born, a boy of course, will be named Cygnus, for we must keep up the tradition of being names after constellations," he said. He wasn't joking. He always liked that name.
"I could live with that, go on," she yawned.
"Our next child, a girl, who will be as pretty as her mummy, will also be named after a constellation. Her name will be Aquilla. She will be our artistic child," he said.
"You're weird, but interesting, keep going, child number three, constellation name," Hermione prompted.
"Oh, our third child, also a girl, doesn't have to have a constellation name. I think you should name her. She will be very smart, like you, but look more like me. What will we name her, Hermione?" Draco asked.
Hermione was quiet for a moment. He looked down at her; to be certain she hadn't fallen asleep. "I don't want her to feel left out, so I think she needs a constellation name, too. Maybe Ara or Carina. Hydra would be a pretty name, as well. I like Carina the best. It's part of the Heavenly Water Family of Constellations."
"My oh my, you are my own little encyclopedia, aren't you, Hermione?" He kissed the top of her head. "Fine, I like Carina. Our last child, our baby, will be a boy. What name should we pick for our spoiled youngest?" Draco asked, stroking her hair.
"There's Leo, or Orion," she said, and then she suddenly became more awake and said, "We could name him Lupin. There's a constellation named Lupus, which is almost like Lupin." He frowned.
"There's a constellation named Norma and we won't be naming a child that, either. No, no names sounding like werewolves. I think I like Leo."
"I like Leo," she agreed. She yawned again.
"Are you sleepy?" he asked.
"Very much so, but I don't want to sleep. I don't want to waste one moment with you," she admitted.
He actually laughed at her, and said, "I shall say it for the third time tonight; you are a silly little thing. We have the rest of our lives to spend together. So go on to sleep. I'll be right here in the morning. I promise."
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