So I learned something - I can't do two creative writing projects at the same time! Sorry this update took longer than I thought! It's hard to concentrate on two stories, I don't know how others do it. No more fic fests until FWWL is done. :)

Chapter 50

"Lucius! Draco!"

Draco was leaning over some administrative assistant's desk and turned to see Kingsley Shacklebolt calling from his office. He quickly found that a bit of innocuous flirting with middle aged admins got him nearly everything he wanted from the offices he and his father were infiltrating, without too much trouble. They were usually married and not interested in an affair. They simply appreciated the attention from a young attractive male. He hated all of it, but preferred flirting over subtly threatening to poison someone's son.

Something he had done this morning.

Draco winked at her before pushing himself off her desk and following his father down the hall, hearing her giggle.

"I just heard your bill in the Wizengamot passed," Kingsley spoke from his office. "Come in for a celebratory drink."

His father paused before the door and glanced back at him, raising a cautionary eyebrow. Draco knew that look. Be on your guard. Kingsley had called it "their bill," which was an interesting turn of phrase. The bill had been championed by several Wizengamot members although he and his father had been subtly pushing from behind the scenes for months.

He followed his father in and took a seat in front of Kingsley's desk, smoothing out his robes. Hermione wanted to know the purpose of the Decriminalization of Interactions With Muggles Act. Which meant the Order wanted to know, and what it had to do with Wembley Stadium. His father was tight lipped about anything having to do with the 'why' of their efforts and was only forthcoming about the 'how.' Draco wasn't sure if his father knew the purpose or not. Maybe this was his chance to finally learn something and prove he could be trusted. He felt nervous, wondering how much he could steer the conversation without endangering himself or his father.

Kingsley poured some brandy for the two of them and himself. He raised his glass and drank first, showing the drinks hadn't been spiked. Draco raised his glass and sipped at the brandy, enjoying the sweet taste on his tongue.

By unspoken agreement, Draco was usually silent in his father's dealings with Kingsley, save for a few pleasantries. There was plenty to learn by watching the two older wizards in action. He always felt like he was observing a game, and figuring out the rules on the fly.

"How is Narcissa?"

His father smiled. "Very well, thank you. Busy planning her summer party."

"Ah, yes. Every Narcissa Malfoy event is a singular experience."

"I'll tell her you said so, she'll be pleased." His father sipped his drink slowly. "You won't be bringing anyone with you, Kingsley? The perennial bachelor, aren't you?"

"The international work during my Auror days didn't leave much time to court a wife."

"Perhaps that may change now that your Auror days are behind you?"

"Who knows?" Kingsley shrugged. "When things settle down, I may start looking."

Kingsley and his father eyed each other. Pleasantries now exhausted, his father was waiting for Kingsley to get to the point of their impromptu meeting. Not that Kingsley would ever arrive at it so directly. Perhaps he was hoping his father might speak first after he called the Decriminalization of Interactions With Muggles Act 'their bill.' But his father said nothing, nonplussed by uncomfortable silences.

Kingsley shifted his dark eyed gaze to Draco. "And what of you Draco? I know half the female work force at the Ministry starts pulling out their mirrors and lipstick when you and your father walk in. Anyone special in your life?"

The question appeared harmless. He didn't know where Kingsley was leading the conversation. Did he know what Draco was doing with Elizabeth? But why would he care? And his flirtations with Elizabeth publicly didn't appear any different from how he interacted with others.

"Not at the moment," he replied, taking a steadying drink of brandy. "There's a lot going on right now."

"It's a difficult time to start a family, especially for a young man forging his own path, isn't it?"

Draco tilted his head, unsure what Kingsley's angle was.

"There are still violent factions opposing the Dark Lord," Draco replied. "But the rumor is that they'll be defeated before years' end."

His friends were going to be recruited soon for that purpose. Draco felt sick to his stomach at the thought. Hogwarts was only delaying the inevitable for them.

Cannon fodder.

"Yes," Kingsley said rubbing his finger over the glass tumbler. "I think we're all looking forward to some stability, so life can go on."

"We are," his father replied. Perhaps eager to draw Kingsley's attention back to himself. Kingsley didn't let him.

"Your father is keeping you busy then?"

Draco smiled. "He is indeed."

"I heard you're taking over some responsibilities on the boards your father participates in."

Draco cleared his throat. He had already started interacting with the board of governors at Hogwarts and his father had introduced him to the union of small business leaders a few months prior. Kingsley was well informed, no sense in denying it.

"Yes, I've learned quite a bit from working with them."

"I imagine those boards of directors have been quite helpful in securing votes for your bill."

This was the second time Kingsley called the act 'their bill.' Draco wasn't sure if he should deny it or pretend Kingsley hadn't named it as such.

"They do support the DIWM Act," his father continued before Draco could answer, choosing not to take direct ownership of the bill, and pulling the conversation away from Draco. He could see what was going on now. Kingsley was forcing his father to answer by directing his questions to Draco, trying to get him to reveal more than he would otherwise.

"Muggles are beneath our notice," Kingsley continued speaking to Draco as if Lucius hadn't replied. "Your bill will do quite a lot to ease unrest in certain quarters by providing an outlet for frustration. You play Quidditch, don't you?"

Draco eyed him. Kingsley knew he did. "Yes."

He continued. "Quelling unrest is especially important now since Quidditch leagues have been severely disrupted with the regime change."

"I imagine it would," his father replied, still ignoring Kingsley's implication, and drawing Shacklebolt's attention back to him.

"That wasn't your intent at the outset?"

Now Draco understood. Kingsley wanted to understand why the Malfoy's had been pushing for the DIWM Act. And he just maneuvered his father into the position of giving a reason. Draco stared into his glass, trying to hide just how interested he was in his father's answer.

Kingsley must be worried about stability, he wanted to know if that was the expected outcome of the bill, or if there was something else at play. He had been leading up to it with his talk of finding a wife and starting a family, and now with Quidditch.

Draco listened while his father considered his answer, not daring to raise his eyes.

"The Minister would be interested in stability, wouldn't he?" his father deflected smoothly.

Kingsley steepled his fingers, elbows on the table, and Draco glanced up.

"Absolutely," Kingsley confirmed. "Achieving stability so quickly after the blood traitors are overthrown would assure a long, fruitful career as Minister."

His father's lips lifted in a sardonic smile. "Some instability might shorten that career."

Draco sat back and regarded his father with barely concealed amazement. Kingsley was good, but Lucius Malfoy was a master. He avoided Kingsley's question, avoided taking ownership of the bill, and cornered Kingsley by bringing up his own ambitions. Kingsley could leverage a destabilized wizarding society to oust Pius, unrest would certainly work in his favor.

Perhaps that was why he was asking about the purpose of the DIWM Act. Would it bring stability or more violence? If more violence, he could leverage it. He wanted to know what the Malfoys were doing, and if they would align with him in the future.

Kingsley chuckled in what seemed like… relief? Draco couldn't tell.

He wagged his finger at his father. "Maybe one day, Lucius. I'm still learning the ropes of the Office of the Deputy."

His father said nothing. No one bought it.

Kingsley turned to Draco. "So is the passing of the DIWM Act a sign that you'll be announcing your engagement to a lucky witch? Especially since those factions will be defeated within the year? Don't your social circles start to marry off around the summer?"

Kingsley had a point. No one was getting married. No one. And no engagements had been announced. Draco's marital prospects hadn't even been a topic of conversation since he left Hogwarts. The Malfoys had been too busy trying to secure the Dark Lord's hold on the Ministry and destroy the Order. Which purpose did the DIWM Act serve? Perhaps both?

One thing was certain, if marriages and engagements were anything to go by, stability was not expected in the near term. The passage of the act would result in violence, and now Draco was back to square one. The Order suspected it would be leveraged to eliminate any judicial fallout from large scale attacks on Muggles. A series of attacks would destabilize Muggle England and would most certainly destabilize Wizarding England as well.

Draco didn't think Voldemort wanted to destabilize Wizarding England. That would leave an opening for the Order to gain traction. Now that the Dark Lord had control, he wouldn't want to relinquish it. But the purpose of the bill wasn't stability either.

The only threat to stability was the Order. What did the DIWM Act have to do with the Order?

Nothing made sense. What was Draco missing? He didn't know. Kingsley didn't know either and was watching him, expecting an answer.

Hoping for stability was innocuous. He could pretend that was the purpose.

"Perhaps I should start looking," Draco replied. His thoughts strayed to Hermione. His path diverged from what was typical in his social circles long ago. Briefly, he wondered how his parents would handle the fallout of his choices, but couldn't find it within himself to care. He just wanted them to pull through alive.

From the way he was studying Draco, Kingsley didn't believe his answer. Kingsley figured out the purpose of the bill wasn't stability, and he was probably right. Once again, Draco wondered if his father actually knew why they had been pursuing it for so long.

Kingsley shifted his gaze to his father. "So how long before your brilliant son takes your place Lucius? From what I hear, he's giving you a run for your money. Any plans for retirement you're not sharing with us?"

It was obvious flattery, but his father still smiled with pride and Draco's cheeks flushed from his approval. "Indeed, he is. But I wouldn't know what to do with myself. It's far too early for retirement."

Kingsley laughed softly. "Regardless, I approve of mentoring the next generation. We have many passionate up-and-coming political hopefuls with bright ideas. They haven't yet become cynical from the daily grind of a bureaucracy."

All three chuckled, intimately familiar with the never-ending struggle against government gridlock. Their shared laughter died down, ending in an awkward silence. Perhaps Kingsley had determined he wasn't going to get anything out of his father, despite his attempts to force him to answer for Draco. Lucius finished the rest of his brandy and Draco did the same.

"Well," his father stood up and extended his hand. "It's always a pleasure, Kingsley. You have excellent taste in alcohol."

Chuckling again, Kingsley shook his father's hand and then Draco's before he followed his father out of the office. The Malfoys just learned something about Kingsley. He had designs on Pius's position and was trying to figure out if they would support him. But he didn't appear satisfied with what he had learned about the DIWM Act. In fact, he hadn't learned anything. Draco wondered if his interest was solely connected to his desire to oust Pius or if he had an ulterior motive.

"Draco."

He paused and turned to face Kingsley before exiting. The Ministry Deputy leaned back in his chair.

"It's good to have a Malfoy presence in the Ministry. You help cut through our red tape." Kingsley crossed his arms and gave Draco what seemed like the first genuine smile he'd ever seen on his face. "I think you and I will be working more together in the future."

Draco nodded at him, unsure what to make of that closing comment.

oooooooooooooooo

"So Kingsley wants to replace Pius?"

His father turned to Draco in thought, brushing ash off his sleeve after exiting the Floo in the Manor foyer.

"I'm sure he does, but I wouldn't have expected him to act so soon. Perhaps he sees an opening now." Lucius set his cane against the wall near the fireplace. "He showed his cards too easily. Something else is going on with his focus on the bill. And he's taken an interest in you for some reason."

Draco felt uncomfortable, remembering Kingsley's scrutiny. His father must have noticed his nervousness from Draco's expression because he added, "That's not a bad thing, Draco. Especially if he does succeed in ousting Pius. And I have no doubt he will. It's only a matter of time."

"So Kingsley's ambitions weren't behind that conversation?" Draco thought that was the key to their interaction at the Ministry. He still had a lot to learn from his father. "I thought Kingsley supported our cause."

The corner of his father's mouth lifted. "Kingsley is loyal to no one but himself. You saw how quickly he abandoned Dumbledore once the tides had shifted."

Draco studied his father in thought. Knowing his father wouldn't reply, he asked what had been bugging him and the Order anyway. The conversation with Kingsley was as good an excuse as he would get and wouldn't raise suspicion.

"What is the purpose of the bill?" he asked, trying to keep his voice curious, but nonchalant. "We put in an awful lot of effort just to prevent drunken wizards from going to Azkaban after a foray into Muggle London."

His father stared at him and clenched his jaw. Draco knew right away he wasn't going to tell him what he actually thought. It was important to compartmentalize, the purpose of the bill wasn't in the Malfoy's purview and seeking out information they shouldn't have would implicate them should the Dark Lord suspect a traitor. And the Dark Lord was always paranoid about traitors.

"The Dark Lord has his own designs," his father replied. "We can't hope to comprehend them."

Draco wondered if his father knew but wouldn't say. He tried to push him one last time.

"I don't think this bill has anything to do Muggles."

After a few moments his father spoke. "I agree."

ooooooooooooo

Hermione was bloody, face down on the ground. Draco yelled to her, feet pounding on the grass, running as fast as he could but Jugson got there before him. He yanked Hermione up by her hair to a kneeling position.

Panic spurred him on. He shot a hex at Jugson, but he deflected it without effort.

"This is what you betrayed the Dark Lord for? This fucking cunt?" Jugson shook Hermione's body by the fist in her hair, and she whimpered.

"HERMIONE!" Draco's desperate cry ripped through his throat.

Draco shot more hexes at Jugson, but he blocked them all with practiced wrist movements. He kept running but his feet were so heavy. It felt like he was slogging through water and he couldn't move fast enough.

"Draco…" Hermione croaked, reaching out to him, blood on her hands.

He watched in horror as Jugson brandished a knife.

"Secondary weapon, Malfoy," he leered. "If I slice her open, she won't be much use to you anymore."

Draco screamed and launched himself into the air, but it was too late. Jugson sliced Hermione's throat just as he crashed to the ground in front of her. Her pale, white throat, the one he had kissed so many times, ripped open and blood spurted out. The red liquid covered his chest while Jugson laughed.

"NOOOOO!" Draco grabbed Hermione's arms, watching as the light extinguished from her eyes. Her body slipped in his grip, wet with her blood.

"Hermione!" he sobbed.

Her lifeless body sagged, and Jugson released his grip on the mass of Hermione's curls. He looked down at Draco with an evil smile while she pitched forward into him.

"Draco."

"NO!" he cried out, cradling her dead body into his and heaved a sob. He was too late! Her blood covered his chest. Dark, thick, viscous liquid. It was everywhere.

"Draco."

It smeared all over him. He couldn't hold her, everything was slick and wet and her body slipped out of his hands. He sobbed again.

"Draco."

And suddenly she was there in front of him. Warmth in her eyes, gentle hand on his cheek. Concerned. Lying next to him in bed.

"Draco, are y–"

Before Hermione could finish her sentence, he pushed her onto her back, grabbed her wrists and pressed them down into the pillow she lay on. Her eyes widened and he lowered his mouth to hers. She was here and she was alive. She gasped as he plundered her mouth and shoved her legs apart with his knee.

Draco wouldn't let her go. Not ever. He had to feel her underneath him. He had to know she was here. He had to be inside.

She spread her legs wider to receive him and he thrust into her without preamble. Her head tilted back with the force of his intrusion, but his mouth followed and he swallowed her choked cry.

Fuck.

Yes.

There.

Hermione whimpered and he held her underneath him, needing her warmth. She wasn't going anywhere. She was here with him. She couldn't move, pinned underneath his body. He lifted himself and slowly pushed back into her with a groaning sigh.

Hot. Tight. Wet.

More.

His thrusts weren't fast and frenzied, but slow and powerful. Draco released her mouth and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He wanted to smell her, and he inhaled a shuddering breath. He wanted to feel her skin. He wanted her inside him. He wanted to eat her. He sucked on her flesh with his lips and teeth, bruising it. She moaned and jerked, begging him with incoherent phrases. Hermione struggled to move her arms, but his grip tightened around her wrists. He didn't let her do anything but writhe underneath him, pinning her with his body.

He just wanted… he wanted her here. Always. With him.

Her pelvis rocked up to meet his controlled thrusts and he panted into her neck, thrusting with the same, deliberate pace. He kept it slow, savoring the feel of her cunt on his cock, of her breasts against his chest. Of her neck against his face. He pulled out, so slow it was agonizing, hovered for a second and rammed himself back in with a grunt.

"Ohmygod!" He pushed the cry out of her.

Fuck, she was wet.

All for him.

His.

She'd never leave him.

Again, Draco lifted his hips, held steady, and pounded back into her, fingers digging into her wrists. Each time he thrust into her she cried out. Hermione tried to wrap her legs around his, but Draco shoved his knee into hers, spreading her legs wider. He didn't want her to move, he wanted to take her. Mold her body to him. To his hands, to his legs, to his cock.

He pulled out and slammed into her again.

There.

Hermione gasped at the ceiling and her body rattled with each plunge into her.

She turned her head into his hair. He felt her lips searching for his, but he didn't raise his head from the crook of her neck. He wanted to lick and claim her. He snarled and drove into her again, digging his fingers into her wrists. She heaved another cry with each ferocious thrust inside her.

It wasn't enough. He had to know she was his. That she was alive. That she was safe. That she was here.

He released her arms. Hermione tried to grab his head, but he lifted himself up and out of her reach, snatched her ankles and pressed her legs down against her stomach, bracing himself on the backs of her knees. Her eyes widened in surprise. He aligned himself, flexed his stomach muscles and pushed.

All the way in. Inside her.

Like that.

Hermione released a strangled cry and her eyes rolled back.

Fuck.

With the new angle he was in so deep. Draco set a punishing pace, pistoning in and out of her, bracing himself against her body. Her breasts bounced with each of his thrusts and the headboard hit the wall.

His. His. His. HIS.

The word echoed in his mind each time the bed banged into the wall. Each time she slid around his cock. His body was heating up and desire wrenched his insides.

Hermione cried out and threw her head back.

No.

He pulled her face down, pressing his fingers into her cheeks.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Her eyes flashed with a hazy lust and her curls were wild, sprawled out on the pillow.

Hermione grabbed his forearms, struggling to hold on while he pounded into her. He didn't want her to be steady. He wanted to break her apart so that he was the only thing that could anchor her. He was so far up inside she couldn't do anything but gasp as he rammed into her. His body became slick with sweat, and he could feel her tensing and tightening around him.

It was hot and tight and he couldn't hold it in.

Hers was coming. His was too. He could feel it building up and he wanted to give it to her. All for her.

Yessssss.

Hermione's eyes rolled back again.

"Look at me!" he growled louder, his fingers pressing harder into her jaw.

She had to know it was he who made her feel like this. He that made her scream in pleasure. He that unraveled her. Her eyes focused on him. That passionate hazel he loved.

His.

Hermione's breath caught and she came hard with a wail, clenching her legs and contracting around him. Her face flushed and she trembled beneath him.

Draco felt her cunt pulling at him and she dug her fingers into his arms. She'd leave marks. Her marks on him. The corners of his mouth lifted in a twisted smile and he snapped his hips against her with huffing grunts. Hard. And his body shook.

Almost there.

He heaved and flexed, bracing himself on her body.

Yes.

Her eyes were wide, and he smacked her flesh with his. Feeling overwhelmed by his own orgasm, he groaned, straining himself against the back of her thighs while he emptied into her.

Pulsing and moaning, his fingers dug into her as the last of his seed shot out of him.

His.

With one last shudder, he heaved a breath and released her face and the back of her knee. His heart thundered in his chest and he gazed down at her. Her breasts were heaving and her face red after being fucked so violently.

Hermione extended her limbs with a grimace and he lay down atop her, resting his forearms, one by one on either side of her head. His nose touched hers and he watched her while he caught his breath.

Fuck.

Draco didn't understand what had happened. Did he hurt her? He didn't feel so desperate anymore. He didn't have that insatiable need to claim her. She was right here. She was with him. It was just a nightmare.

Draco panted and he heard her heart beating as loudly as his. Her hot breath hit his lips and she slid her hands up his back to embrace him. He was covered in sweat.

After a few moments her breathing returned to a steady rhythm. He had never been so rough before, she'd probably bruise. But from the look on her face, Hermione enjoyed it. He smiled in relief.

Tenderly, almost apologetically, he teased patterns in her scalp and watched her calm down from the previous moment's frenzy.

"I'm sorry," he said, still breathing hard.

"Don't be."

He searched her eyes for any hint that he had hurt her. There was none. She was breathless, elated. He grinned wider.

"What were you dreaming about?" she asked, curious and wide eyed. "It sounded like a nightmare. You woke me up before…" she smiled, still breathing heavily. "Before all that."

He studied her, gasping for breath as if from an uphill sprint. "I dreamt that I lost you."

Hermione lifted her head to press a close-mouthed kiss to his lips, which he returned.

"I had no idea nightmares could fuel such hot, rough sex."

He grinned against her mouth, still panting, and no longer worried. "I don't know what came over me."

She smirked. "I did."

Draco huffed a laugh and lowered his head for a slow, sensual – gentle – kiss.

Next up: Wembley Stadium.