Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"Kiss It All Better"

Hermione was trying to even her own breathing. It was difficult to do so when the air was mixed with expensive cigars, alcohol, and classic musky scents from the people inside, for the most part, sex. It smelled of sex. It was an enriched multisensory experience, to be exact. She hated the fact that in some unreservedly uncharacteristic way, she actually found it compelling.

She guessed Draco had done a good job. She was now a bungled mess.

Her husband had never left her all night, except during the mere mention of Theo's name. It seemed to create a great impact on him.

She was angry all of a sudden.

What did Theo want, anyway? What was he thinking coming here at the first place? He was only endangering himself. He wasn't helping at all! Draco was an excellent legilimens and she knew that even if Theo had a fair talent in Occlumency, he still couldn't counter Draco's intense capacity when it comes to that area. Snape said he had exceeded even the stage of what was taught to him. Being Voldemort's right hand, it was expected of him. It takes a really dark wizard to acquire such ability. Hermione didn't want to know what it exactly meant.

She knew that Theo could be impulsive at times, but this bold move of coming in here was just plain stupid. If Draco finds out then it would seriously cause a huge glitch in their plans.

She cared a lot for Theo, she really did. But sometimes, he was just too daring to even know the boundary between bravery and foolhardiness. And here she thought the guy was a Slytherin.

She needed to talk to Snape so he could chastise him out of this.

She couldn't face Theo.

She couldn't tell him. She couldn't talk to him. She didn't want to. She didn't know why. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that she didn't know, because by that, just maybe, she could somehow feel less guilty than she already was.

She needed to talk to Professor Snape about this. She was sure he would agree with her. Yes… that was it; the Professor could convince him to go away, somehow. Snape could make him come back to the Order so he wouldn't be able to do some very reckless actions such as rescuing her and—

Why did she want Theo to go away so badly, anyway?

Yes, it was because she cared for him, but why was she so adamant in shooing him away like this?

Why didn't she want him to rescue her?

Why did she want Draco to take her now and get her back into their manor?

Their manor… Since when did it become their manor?

Didn't she hate the place? Didn't she want to get away from there?

She was losing her mind.

Maybe she was suffering from this thing called Stockholm syndrome, but she didn't know anymore.

She looked around, as if finding for an answer. But all she'd gotten was the spine-chilling stares from the men around the room.

She was suddenly aware that she was actually alone, like a lone sheep surrounded by a pack of wolves. And one of those famished wolves was Miles Bletchley, who was actually staring at her through his wineglass while reclining into a chaise longue. Hermione noticed he looked frustrated.

It was amazing just how much power Draco truly held in this place. Even when he wasn't around, it was still very clear on just how his men were afraid of anything that might upset him.

They couldn't approach her.

They couldn't touch her.

Because she was Draco Malfoy's wife.

Suddenly, she felt proud; daring, even.

She angrily glared back at Bletchley, letting him know through her stare that she was unafraid of him. The creep managed to wink at her. She almost got sick.

She looked away, shuddering a bit. If Draco saw that act, she was sure the wanker would be dead in no time. Perhaps she should tell her husband about it. He'd do anything for her, anyway, she would let him do to Bletchley what he did to Blaise Zabini and—

Wait. What the hell was she thinking? Could she even perceive the voice from her little, twisted mind? Or was it too intoxicated by the room's obvious poisoned mist to function and hear itself?

But she felt restless. That familiar tingling sensation at the back of her nape was still there. Like radar, her head shoot up to see that someone was really staring at her… from the second floor.

It was Graham Montague's mistress.

The little girl was looking down at Hermione from the railings. Her wild, chocolate curls were flowing down like curtains, covering her cheeks. She had her elbows and stomach supporting her weight and her legs were playfully dangling beside the balusters of the railings, making her look like she was floating. She looked like a little bisque doll hanging on its dollhouse. She was terrifyingly beautiful, like a ghost or a fairy.

Hermione was too entranced to move for a while. Even if the girl already had the body of a young woman, her face looked so young and so innocent.

Hermione remembered that she was barely fifteen when she met Draco again after so many years. She'd never kissed anyone back then, not counting her childhood, 'puppy love' first kiss with Draco.

Draco had respected her so much during those times, waiting for her approval before doing anything serious, and she trusted him because of that. Sure, he had broken that trust when he took her even if she wasn't ready, but they were in the middle of the war, things have changed and she was at least seventeen, turning eighteen.

This girl looked like she was only thirteen or fourteen.

Hermione wondered what kind of things Montague had done to her. He was practically groping at her a while ago, touching her in the most intimate places a girl of her age shouldn't be touched in public, or even private for that matter.

Hermione stood up from the barstool she was currently sitting on, still locking her gaze to the little girl. Her face didn't show any emotion at all. If she wasn't moving, Hermione was sure she was really going to mistake her as a bisque doll decoration.

The girl slightly leaped from her current position, landing flimsily into the floor. She was still looking at Hermione. She kept staring at her while she started walking, her hand slithering along the wooden handrails.

She was going somewhere and it seemed that she wanted Hermione to follow her, and so she did.

Hermione ran towards the stairs and she was surprised on how some people moved away to make a path for her. Again, she was reminded of Draco's power and his ability to intimidate, with or without his presence.

When Hermione reached the second floor, the little girl was waiting for her, still walking delicately towards her destination. It seemed that she had known the place well. She guessed she had better freedom than Hermione had at the Malfoy Manor. Hermione was suddenly jealous.

They rounded a corner or two to reach a library. She reckoned it was the Montague Manor's main library. It was enormous, quaint and surprisingly neat. It was paradise.

Hermione smiled as she entered the massive space, reveling on the familiar smell of books. It was a pleasant reward after all the smoke and alcohol corrupted atmosphere she needed to endure. The little girl smiled back at her, quite diffidently. She offered her some of the books that were already on the table. Those were the little girl's favourites, Hermione noticed.

"You have such a beautiful library, uhmm…?"

"Nesha, my name is Nesha, Ms. Hermione. And this isn't my library, this is Graham's," the girl smiled shyly at her.

Hermione beamed. This was the first time she would ever get to talk to her and she felt giddy. Oh, how she missed Ginny so much.

"Graham says I'm addicted to books," the girl continued, smiling back timidly. She had such a sweet, tiny voice. It reminded Hermione on just how much innocence she had to lose because of the war, just like Ginny did.

"I love books as well," Hermione beamed at her as she sat down and opened the first book she could reach from the table. It was The Standard Book of Spells, Year Four by Miranda Goshawk. So the girl must be in her fourth year at Hogwarts now if the war didn't exist.

"Graham lets me study, says it's important. He teaches me himself, sometimes," the girl told her, answering her thoughts.

"Nesha, about Montague… is he…?

"Is he what, Ms. Hermione?" The girl looked so naïve, so innocent, so pure. Hermione didn't want to know the answer to her suspicions.

"Is he treating you well?"

The girl all of a sudden blushed, and Hermione had a sinking feeling why.

"H-He's my master, but he's very good to me. He takes care of me very well. You see, I'm special to him, he said. This ball is for me. He said he needs to thank your husband." Nesha was swaying slightly, fiddling with her dress. "Graham said that's how special I am to him. H-He makes me do things… but he says it's just normal because he loves me, and I love him back. People do things when they love each other very much." Her cheeks had turned into crimson as if showered with tiny kisses now. The girl was seriously deluded to think that she was in love with her own captor, no doubt. What a poor misled soul. Montague was a heartless bastard.

"To thank my husband, you say? Why?"

"He spared my life."

"Come again?" Despite of her anger towards Nesha's subjugator, Hermione's curiosity was seriously piqued now. She needed to know more.

"Graham said it's maybe because I resemble you in some way. But he also said Malfoy doesn't really want to get his hands dirty if he could help it. Graham said he's good at everything, except on the killing part."

"W-What do you mean by that?"

"Well, for one thing, Malfoy organises everything. He is quick and powerful. Graham told me that in a hunt, he'd always capture as much. Graham wants to be as good as him. He's an excellent tracker, always the best of the best. He leads his men and it's expected of him. He is my master's master after all. But Graham said he refuses to do anything dirty if he could help it. He kills at times, but he is better at watching and commanding. Graham said he has a reason," Nesha stopped talking and scooted nearer so she could whisper at the older girl. "Draco Malfoy killed Dumbledore," she whispered grimly.

Hermione already knew this information, but it still gave her Goosebumps just by the mere mention of it.

"Graham said he once spent a summer at Malfoy's manor with Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle when they were very young, in their first year. Malfoy's mother told stories about the world of fay, the nobler race of all winged creatures of the mystical empire. They said, as boys, they hated it but they listened anyway. Malfoy's mother always said that Draco Malfoy was like a faerie, because just like them, he's a creature full of mischief and malice. As time went by, Graham and the others who heard the story teased him brutally about it. Until the time when Malfoy threatened to hex them all off if they wouldn't stop, so they did. Graham said Malfoy is pretty much nasty in his ways.

"But like a faerie, Graham said that Malfoy has weakness as well, though he wouldn't really tell me, so I read about it and found out about the fae's weakness. It is because of a broken heart. The euphemistically wee folk would often fall in love with mortals, those who are not their kind. They die of broken hearts. You can see it on their chests. When they die, the spot where the heart is placed turns black, as well as the veins that surround it, and they die with grief-stricken but devoted eyes, and then there are always tears. Tears can never be absent. And they just die, right there. Despite of their power and supremacy, they just die, just like that… for a mere mortal."

It sounded too heartbreaking, too tragic. Hermione didn't even know why Nesha was telling this to her, but her heart stung so much. She had trouble with her breathing. She felt so conflicted, so guilty. It was a dreadful feeling. She wanted it to go away.

She just wanted to see her husband now.

But the next words just completely stopped her dead in her tracks. "Graham said Malfoy is a selfish man. He'd do anything. So he killed Dumbledore to keep you. Graham said it was that simple, Dumbledore's life for yours."

"W-Wha—" Hermione couldn't finish even a word. She couldn't even see clearly. Everything in her hurt; like some invisible needles were prickling her skin. She was being stabbed like a voodoo doll, and it stung even to breathe. The air was becoming crystallised hale, and it hurt when it reached her lungs.

He killed Dumbledore to keep you.

She'd been guilty enough without those words; now, how the hell was she ever going to sleep at night?

Did she start it all, then? Was she the reason for this war? Was she the reason why Nesha was being held prisoner, used and manipulated by Montague to lose her innocence? Was she the reason why people were killed every day while she was being pampered inside the Manor like a precious princess?

Was she the reason why Ginny died?

The creak on the door startled both of the girls. Hermione was sure she had almost toppled down while hastily turning around, making her head spin a little. The wine she'd taken a while ago didn't help with the current whirling emotions she was feeling at the moment.

"Hermione, come. Let's go back home," Draco sounded urgent as he opened his arms for her. He didn't look quite tipsy anymore. He always had control over his body whenever he wanted to, like learning by rote all the automatic switches inside. Hermione had always envied him for that ability. He looked so emotionless, so detached… like a dead faerie.

"B-Bye, Nesha. It was so nice to meet you," Hermione tried to smile as she brought the girl into a warm embrace. Before she could let go, however, she whispered, "I need to talk to you soon."

"Hermione," Draco sounded impatient now, and she knew it was her cue to leave.

"I'm coming," Hermione replied, sounding apologetic as she went towards him and gave him her routine kiss. He kissed her back fiercely before bringing her to melt into his arms.

He kissed her temple and held on her hips tightly. Hermione locked her hands together around his waist as she closed her eyes, feeling the uncomfortable tightness of side-along apparition. She'd always hated being side-apparated, but the fact of feeling successful magic into her skin even for half a second made her sanity somewhat intact.

She'd been practising wandless spells whenever Draco would go away for an appointment, but it was still different. She'd always been clever with books and spells, but not as good as Draco when it comes to skills, especially on wandless magic. Sometimes, she would lie for hours inside the tub, wondering whether or not she could even get a hold of the familiar vine wood with a dragon heartstring core again.

As the image of their room entered her vision, she couldn't help but look up at her husband's vacant face.

How could he do that? Looking as if nothing really happened.

He just talked with Theo…

What did they talk about?

What was Theo planning? For sure, he wouldn't show himself so willingly if he wasn't planning on joining Draco's alliance.

Hermione knew for a fact that Theo had never been a Death-eater. He'd told her that he would never believe in that cause so there must be something in his mind to have confronted Draco like this.

And what of Nesha's opinion about Draco?

Hermione badly needed to talk to Snape right now. He was the only one who could truly make her understand everything.

She was too distracted that she didn't even notice her husband casting a nonverbal spell for her gown to disappear. She gasped as cool air slithered along her skin. The sudden coolness due to the absence of her clothing was only felt for a brief millisecond as his warm naked body had replaced them in an instant. His hands had snaked their entire way around her bare torso, kneading her breasts and assaulting her neck with vigorous open mouthed kisses.

"You're mine. No one else can change that. You're married and bonded to me. Everyone else can fuck it!" He growled while directly hauling and throwing her into the bed, making her gasp in surprise.

It was too sudden. His emotions could change like they had their own mechanical switches. Right now, she knew she would have had gotten used to it already, but he just surprised her every time. He was the most unpredictable person on earth.

Her bottom landed on the king-sized bed. She was almost being thrown out by the impact of the rebound. She had collided on the soft mattress but it was still a bit painful due to the force of Draco's thrust on her. She tried to stand up, modestly covering her very naked state. Her breasts were bouncing slightly as she squirmed; they still tingled due to his brutal grasping a second ago.

Hermione knew that her husband had always been passionate in everything; most especially in their sexual activities. This time, however, there was something different in him, like he was trying to prove something, like he was trying to provide an evidence to wipe any smear of uncertainties or, if it was possible, insecurities.

Before she could ask him what was wrong, however, both her hands were suddenly pinned above her head by his right hand while his left roughly groped her body. Her planned questions fled out of the room when he plunged down to kiss her, tugging on her lower lip with his teeth so she could open up for him to explore her mouth.

Suddenly, she found herself dizzyingly kissing him back, running her tongue along his in an erotic jazz. It started with slightly slower uneven strokes, until it had gotten stronger, more frantic and urgent. It was a messy, lopsided kiss; too frenzied that it left her whimpering. They kissed for what seemed like eternity and she was left panting due to the flighty sensations and to the lack of oxygen when they broke apart.

She tried to stifle a moan as his mouth nibbled their way through her earlobe and neck. Her response was too automatic as she tilted her head to the side to give him easy access. She gasped when he abruptly plunged down and swirled his tongue around the rosy bud of her breast, gently blowing on it before finally taking it full on his mouth. Her reaction was instantaneous as she moaned and arched her back into him while he sucked her like a nursing infant.

She could feel his hardness against her thigh and she knew he was very aroused. The bed creaked as he was overcome by his possessive, animalistic nature. He slid one arm under her waist to pull her closer to him, desperately needing the heated skin contact; his other hand was still pinning her arms above her head, dominantly reminding her of her docile place. Her torso was arched into him, her arms still painfully glued on the bed above her head as he feed on her skin with wild intensity, noisily lapping on her swollen breasts.

The sophisticated gilded ceiling whirled in her vision as her eyes rolled in the pleasure of his touch. The bed dipped even more as his hand ran along her slit, his thumb stroking the tip of her womanhood as he plunged two fingers inside. She hissed at the feeling of being stretched out, wishing so hard it was his cock that was inside her instead. Her body was rocking in tune with his hand as he continued his frenzied ministrations. He knew the right places to stroke, the right amount of pressure to draw out. He knew exactly how to drive her crazy.

His mouth hungrily wandered on her belly, twisting his finger inside of her opening, making her cry. When his head slid further downwards, Hermione shut her eyes tightly. Strong sensations reverberated into her gut and she bit her lower lip to stop herself from shamelessly screaming harder. She was shaking in too much anticipation as he kissed her thigh softly.

Then, without warning, Draco had violently pushed her legs further apart and placed them over his shoulders while directly pressing his mouth around her core. Both his hands secured her hips as he delved in, drinking her essence in, burying his face into her mound, satiating his need like an addict needing his drug.

He had done this to her too many times already, but bloody Merlin knew she would never ever have enough of it.

Hermione screamed in pleasure, almost tearing the mattress with her fingernails as she held tighter into it for dear life, throwing her head back in what seemed like a mad abandonment. Her muscles clamped, her hips arched further into him as she came, screaming her husband's name in the process. Waves of pleasure dominated her every nerve, leaving her uncontrollably shaking in shreds, feverish and delirious as sweat dripped over her exhausted body.

Fuck it all. Right in this moment, she'd do anything for him. She couldn't even think straight. He could ask her to jump into a cliff and she'd willingly do it. She'd regret thinking about this later, of course, but in this moment, she was just nothing without him.

"No one else can ever do that to you, Hermione. No one else can ever make you feel this way. Remember that," Draco panted as he moved up to kiss her, letting her taste her own essence. "You belong to me and they can't do a shit about it. I'll fuck you everyday to remind you."

Hermione barely heard him as she struggled to calm her booming heart. She couldn't say anything yet, she needed to breathe. She just nodded; not knowing why, really.

The bed bobbled slightly as Draco slowly got up, still panting with lust and irredeemable anger as he walked towards one of the cupboards to retrieve something.

Still unfeasibly delirious and lightheaded, she turned her head sideways to stare at him.

He was still naked and impossibly hard and his features were schooled into utmost restraint. His jaw was tightened, seemingly trying to fight for control. Hermione knew that her husband was never patient, and in normal nights, he would have had already slammed himself into her to satiate his needs. But it seemed that possessing the vial on his hand was more crucial at the moment.

"Drink," he demanded. His voice was harsh as he leaned into the headboard of their bed, scooping her with him.

"W-What is it?" She knew he would never do anything to hurt her. But Draco Malfoy had the most complicated thoughts in the world. No one really knew what was going on inside his dangerous mind.

"Don't you trust me?" He whispered into her ear softly, biting her earlobe in the process.

"I-I do trust you, but—"

"Then drink it."

"Tell me what it is first."

"Drink it."

"Why?"

"If you don't drink this, I would have to teach you a lesson. And you know you don't want me to do that, Princess," he whispered menacingly. Hermione knew he was talking about killing more people again. He had used that threat on her over and over again. But would he, really? Nesha's words came whirling inside her head. Hermione knew that he was a murderer. He couldn't be inside Voldemort's inner circle if he wasn't. But was it really true that he would avoid the act whenever he could help it?

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered. She hated how weak she sounded, hated everything that he ever did to her. He'd broken her soul, her willpower, her resolve and she hated it. What made her even angrier was the fact that she could hate the act, but never him.

Draco softly tugged on her hair as he lifted the vial into her swollen lips. "No, I won't hurt you. I've never hurt you, haven't I?" He whispered before pinching her nose, enough for her to lose air so she would open her mouth. When she did, he shoved the vial into her parted lips and pushed the contents inside by pressing his own mouth into hers to thrust the liquid into her throat.

"That's my good girl," he purred, while gently rubbing her back as she coughed a bit. "Lay back for me, my Princess," he whispered while gently pushing her to lie on the bed. She lay down obediently, and he grabbed her hips to enter her. He hissed as he was fully sheathed within her. His face was contorted with pain and pleasure. Her legs were now intertwined around his hips as he moved inside her, angling his thrusts so he could hit her in the places that made her scream harder.

He slammed into her, lost in his own pleasure. The light against his skin glistened in his sweat-covered muscles.

He was a work of art. He was that beautiful.

She arched her back and bucked her hips to get more of him. She could feel her walls tightening and she screamed in ecstasy, pulling him with her. He cursed loudly, almost losing himself but wanting to prolong his pleasurable agony. The bed wobbled violently as he drove into her, almost crushing her and almost smashing the bed with their collision as he screamed her name, soaking her womb with his sperm. For a moment there, Hermione thought she was going to pass out.

He stayed inside her for a while, catching his breath as he kissed her sweat-covered forehead before disentangling himself and pulling her body next to him. They lay there, panting and out of breath…

He kissed her temple gently, as if telling her that everything was going to be okay; as if kissing it all better, with a promise and love so great, she almost wished everything was real.

Almost.

And then, placing a hand to her belly, he whispered the words. "That was a fertility potion. You're mine and right now, my son is growing inside you."

Songs for this chapter: (Thanks to reader Lily for the suggestions of songs!)

Hermione's song for Draco: "Skinny Love" by Birdy

"I told you to be patient, I told you to be fine, I told you to be balanced, I told you to be kind

In the morning I'll be with you, but it will be a different kind

I'll be holding all the tickets. And you'll be owning all the fines"

Draco's song for Hermione: "Behind Blue Eyes" by Limp Bizkit

"No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man, to be the sad man

Behind blue eyes, and no one knows what it's like to be hated; to be faded to telling only lie

But my dreams they aren't as empty as my conscious seems to be

I have hours, only lonely… My love is vengeance that's never free"

A/N

So here we are after… what? Two weeks? Urgh, I hate myself! I'm so sorry! I have no proper excuse but laziness and procrastination. And I'm so ashamed to confess that I've only been able to update because of a sprained ankle. Lol. I went out swimming with my friends and I'm really usually hyper at times, especially when I'm out in the beach, so I got injured, but I'm fine now. I needed to stay at home, however, to rest, and that's when I'm finally able to update again. Maybe it's a sign that I needed to take time to sit and update, or one of my readers cursed me or something, (lol, no, I'm not giving you an idea! Haha).

But anyway, here it is! I'll try my hardest to be good to all of you and update faster. I feel quite guilty when I don't update. Mind you, I'm really still very much obsessed with this story. It keeps on whirling inside my mind everywhere I go, it's just that sometimes I can't properly place them in words and the ideas are all jumbled up.

But anyway, thank you so much for your lovely reviews. You just keep me going and going and thank you! Oh, and thanks for all the song suggestions! You guys are amazing. Love you all. Have a beautiful, blessed day!

Sue