Reformed
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Goldensnitch18
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Rated M for Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Language, and Violence.
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Summary: Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban and sent to Hogwarts for his eighth year where he has a year to show that he can be reformed. Hermione Granger, and her friends, are struggling to come to terms with what has happened to them and move on, but she has agreed to be Malfoy's Muggle Studies tutor anyway.
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Disclaimer: I am not profiting from this story.
Anything you recognize belongs to the great and mighty JKR.
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Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday, December 22nd, 1998
Hermione had put off packing too long. She was still placing the last few things in her trunk when Draco's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her back against him as his lips brushed against her ear. "Shouldn't you have done this already?" he asked.
She let her body settle against him, enjoying the comfort she found there. It was scary, not knowing what exactly was going to happen next with them, but they both seemed sure that this was something more than an accidental fling. She had started to consider when and how it might be best to tell her friends that she was involved with him, but it wasn't really an easy question to answer. Even if one ignored the obvious issues that would arise from him being Malfoy and them being people that hated him, she was supposed to be his tutor, a conveniently close Muggleborn who couldn't say no to the Headmistress who had been tasked with helping him learn about Muggles.
She wasn't inclined to believe that the Wizengamot could really have any reason to disapprove of them seeing one another as she had no control over the actual exam he would sit or the decision they would make about his reformation at the end of the year. Despite this, she worried that they would think her a dim girl being taken advantage of by the Death Eater trying to avoid jail. Whatever this was, these feelings, this inability to stay away from him, it was not a ploy.
There were other reactions to be considered as well. Her parents, as well as his, would likely not be pleased. Her parents had heard his name, would know who he was if they thought hard enough. They didn't know the details about his involvement with the Death Eaters, but they knew he had made her cry, and that would be enough to vilify him. She worried that her decision to see what happened between them would be just one more wedge between her and her parents.
She wasn't really sure what to expect from the Malfoy side of things. It was probably something they should discuss. His father was in Azkaban, so it was unlikely that he would have much to say on the matter. His mother, however, was out there, somewhere. Draco was not permitted contact with her. When he whispered this to her in the dark of her bedroom as she lay against him falling asleep, it had been clear that this lack of communication with her was more difficult than anything else he was currently dealing with. She had wished that there was something she could do to help him, but there really just wasn't. It was part of the orders from the Wizengamot, something she had no control over, that he not receive or send any mail, so she had kissed him, let him know that she was there, that she felt his pain with him.
"I almost just want to stay," she told him honestly as his mouth slid down her neck. He was terribly distracting, but her desire to stay was not only so that they could spend the next couple of weeks in her bed, just the two of them, not worried about who might notice him sneaking in and out. She was mostly worried about Harry, scared to face the reality of what was happening to her best friend. She wasn't sure what she was going to find, or if she would be able to help him at all. Ron and Ginny seemed so worried about him, and Hermione hoped that she might be able to reach him in a way that they could not.
The only thing she was more concerned about was dealing with her parents. Even without telling them about Draco, she expected their reunion was going to be less than magical. The past couple years had been hard on her relationship with them. She had lied countless times, attempting to keep them in the dark for their safety and to avoid them worrying about hers. It was debatable whether they would have allowed her to continue her education had they realized just how dangerous the world they had allowed her to join could be. Now, however, it was so much a part of her that she struggled to connect with them in many different ways. It was as if she had been taught to speak a foreign language that they could never hope to even begin to comprehend.
"I would be fine with you staying," Draco told her, and she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sensation of his hand sliding across her thigh and toward her knickers.
"I should finish packing," she insisted, but it was a lame protest, even to her own ears.
"Your trunk is full," he countered, and he was right. She had been planning to check the contents against her list one last time, but he was making that seem less necessary with each passing moment.
She lifted her wand from the bed, flicked it once, shutting the trunk, and then again, moving in down to the floor at the end of the bed. Draco spun her around, leaning forward to suck and nip at her collarbone as his fingers pulled up at fabric. "I can't believe I'm going to bloody miss Hermione Granger," he teased when he pulled back to remove the article over her head.
"Same," she told him, marveling in the difference a year had made her in her life. This time last year, she had been on the run, living in a tent with Harry, distraught over Ron leaving, wondering if they would even be alive in a year. Now she was here with Draco, and something about him made her hurt so much less. He understood things she couldn't put into words, and he had become so different, a version of himself that she had never anticipated being possible, but to be fair, she had never really known him before.
She pulled up on his t-shirt, watching his skin be revealed to her until she slid it over his head. They were both enjoying mapping one another's bodies, memorizing the scars and indentations that made them unique, that showed them how far they had truly come. She wanted to know the story of each mark upon his flesh, but she knew it was likely going to be a slow and painful process for them both.
He shuffled forward, pushing her back until she fell onto her bed. Her hair splayed around her head wildly, and her breasts bounced as she fell. She was sure she looked ridiculous, but Draco just smiled down predatorily. "This is my favorite place to be," he told her as he crawled up over her body.
She was sure that it was true, as she shared the feeling. It would lesson surely, this feeling of excitement when they were together, but for now, everything was new and felt so right. Outside of this room and his, things were, in a word, complicated. In here, she relished things like how he looked at her, and the way he seemed to be, little by little, becoming more of himself again. He teased her, used sarcasm more often, and was not afraid to tell her exactly what he wanted to do to her when they were here in this room. It wasn't necessarily easy falling for him, and it was probably going to get harder if they continued to see each other, but the time she spent with him in the classroom or here in their dorm was easily the thing she most enjoyed at the moment.
He relieved her quickly of her trousers, and she delighted in watching his expression as he determined what to do next. She was eager to feel him tonight, but she suspected he may have ideas of his own. "Hermione," he said, one hand tracing a line down between her breasts until his fingers were stroking her over the silky material of her knickers. "You are so beautiful."
She flushed, still not used to compliments like this. She was sure that she wasn't beautiful by traditional standards, but when he said things like this, she was starting to believe that he truly meant them. She could understand also, that affection did funny things to you. He was too thin still, she knew this. His eyes were still dark and haunted. She had learned over the last couple months that he hated to feel dirty in the slightest, and he had confessed to her that it was because of Azkaban. Despite all of these things others would see as imperfections, she found him impossible to resist, especially when he was like this.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded softly, his voice barely reaching her ears. He leaned down to kiss the inside of her thigh gently, and she let out a sigh of contentment.
"I want to stay," she said, regretting her other responsibilities in that moment.
"What are you going to do without me?" he asked, kissing her other thigh.
"I haven't thought about it," she replied honestly.
"Are you going to touch yourself?" Draco's fingers moved up her slit over her knickers again. She was losing control of her hips as her need built. They shifted of their own accord, dancing for him.
She was sure that she would. She was sure that her body had grown used to him giving her the most blissful releases. She was sure that she was going to miss these moments as she laid in bed alone, her hand moving down her body. "Yes," she whispered, not even bothering to attempt the lie.
"What are you going to think about when your fingers slip below your knickers?" he asked. As he spoke, his own fingers moved the fabric aside. She whimpered as he felt the first touch of his skin against her lips, and then they were traveling the same line, up and down.
"You," she told him, hoarsely. She would think of this, of him teasing her. She would think of him buried inside of her, the way his eyes nearly glowed as he came. She would think of his tongue on her skin, swirling down her belly to lick her clit. She was already addicted to his touch.
"What about me?" He bit at her thigh now and she yelped in surprise, even though it didn't hurt. It was a sensation she hadn't been expecting.
"Everything, Draco, dammit." She was losing all semblance of patience.
"I just don't want you to forget me," he said, playing innocent. "What do you want me to do to you now?" he asked. "What memories do you want to take with you to keep you company?
"Anything." Her fingers ran through his hair as she was tempted to pull his face to a more appealing location.
He chuckled as he moved there of his accord. When she felt his teeth against her skin, she whispered his name. He pulled on the fabric, refusing to use his fingers as she wiggled, attempting to help him remove the offending garment faster.
"Would you like me to taste you here?" he asked, and she felt her face heat up. He seemed intent on making her speak her wishes about everything tonight, something she still wasn't very good at.
Hermione tried to ignore the question, but he remained still, waiting for her reply. "Yes," she whispered, and he smirked, but moved his tongue closer, doing exactly what he had suggested. As she closed her eyes and clenched sheets in fists, Hermione wondered just how miserable she was going to be without him. She had survived nineteen years without regular sex, or any sex at all, so surely she could last a few weeks, but right now, with his hands pulling her hips closer to him and his tongue swirling a delicious message meant just for her, she wasn't entirely sure that she was going to last the break.
By the time he was moving back up her body, leaving a trail of kisses on her trembling skin, she was ready to burst, her mind focused entirely on the sensations of each touch, no matter how brief. Somehow, he had removed his trousers by the time his lips reached hers, and she let out a sound of utter need as his cock pressed against her.
He laughed, clearly enjoying what he was doing to her, and she frowned up at him. "You're a prat," she muttered against his lips.
"You love me," he replied.
It took her a few seconds to fully comprehend what he had said. By then, he had pulled back, his eyes on hers, his naked body still, waiting to fill her. He looked alarmed, as if the words had just fallen out of his mouth.
"I … uh …" She struggled to speak, her thoughts floating back from wherever they had fled to make room for her utter desire to take over.
"No, I, not …" Draco responded, so quickly transforming from the confident man who had been so clearly in control moments previously.
"It's okay," she said. "I know you didn't mean it like that." She tried not to sound disappointed, like a lovesick girl whose heart had just been broken, but it was harder than it should have been to fake.
"Hermione," he said her name like an apology, and she hated it. What he said had seemed so innocent, but that word between them in this situation felt like a bomb.
"Draco, really, it's okay."
"No, I should have thought." He leaned in, kissing her gently. "I think … I …"
"Please don't say anything you don't mean," she told him. "I don't want to rush this." She moved a hand into his hair and kissed him again in that same gentle way. Her chest ached.
"I won't," he promised. "But, I … I didn't mean it that way, but I think about you and …" He breathed deeply, and she waited, not wanting to force it this time. She was on edge, terrified for what he might say. He buried his face in her hair, his lips touching her ear. Hermione stared past him at the ceiling, her mind frozen. "I feel that way."
"What way?" she asked, her throat so dry she was sure she sounded awful, but she needed to be sure, to know for a fact that he was telling her what she thought he was telling her. It may be unfair to request the actual words of him, but she was tired of dancing around this and of keeping what she had known for weeks hidden away from him. She was in love with him. Hermione Granger, Muggleborn, best friend of Harry Potter, had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater and the last person anyone would expect to be involved with her.
"I'm in love with you," he whispered, so soft she barely heard it, and then he pushed inside of her, finally filling her as she gripped his back with one hand, the other still in his hair. She used her hand to guide his face back up. She wanted to see him, particularly his grey eyes. They were stormy with some emotion she couldn't quite identify, perhaps it was fear or hesitation.
"Draco." She struggled with the words, feeling overwhelmed by the emotion of this moment. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life. The closeness of him inside her, her eyes holding his gaze as she relished the power of his words was something she was not sure would ever be matched again. "I love you, too." She wished there was some other way to convey to him what she felt, what she had come to realize as their friendship had developed into something entirely unforeseen.
"This isn't how I would've told you," he said before he was kissing her again.
She rocked her hips up to meet his, gripping him tightly as they moved together. They were both quiet as their bodies developed a rhythm, lost in the significance of what was happening. Hermione was just trying to keep her mind on this moment, and not let it be ruined by jumping twenty steps ahead to who would need to be told now and how this was going to change their lives. She wouldn't be in love in secret, hiding it away from the world as if they were dirty for falling for someone inconvenient to the rest of the world. Instead, she focused on the timing of his breathing, on the way his hands held her firmly, on the way she could just feel his heartbeat against her breasts. She was in love with him, and she deserved this moment to just be about them.
When he was close, she felt him pull back slightly, increasing the space between them, and then he was smirking again. "Show me how you're going to do it when I'm not around," he told her, and she felt her face heat again, but her hand moved from him to slide into the space he had created. She found her clit as he pushed back inside of her, and she moaned at the combined sensations. "You're so damn beautiful," he said again, and she bit her lip as her eyes fluttered shut. Her body was tensing as she moved closer and closer to satisfaction. "Come for me, Hermione," he directed, and hearing those words from him was so fucking hot and unexpected that she obliged, struggling to keep her cries from reaching an embarrassing level. She was just coming down, her mind fuzzy with the utter bliss of shattering, when he began to pump faster, speeding up with each thrust. She tried to help, to meet his thrusts, but she was exhausted, and did little to help. Within a minute, he was spilling inside of her, moaning her name into her ear.
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Thirty minutes later, Hermione lay beside him, her hair still slightly damp from the shower. She was wearing his shirt and a pair of her knickers, and he was in his pants. Her right leg draped over his left, and her thumb was rubbing against his chest gently. She was hating tomorrow already. Leaving was going to be a hundred times harder now.
"Maybe I can write someone else, and they can give you the letters," she told him.
"Who would you trust to give them to me?" He laughed. "Besides, it's not worth possibly getting caught."
"It's stupid anyway. What are you going to do? Plan a Ministry coup by owl post?" She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her.
Draco leaned down, kissing her head. "That was actually my intention," he joked. "Then I met this girl, and she ruined all my plans."
"Girls are trouble. You should probably stay away," she warned.
"Too late." His hand moved to meet hers, and she let him intertwine their fingers.
"Tell me more about your parents," she said then. It was random she knew, but she was curious about so many things now, wanting to know every detail of his life.
Draco grew noticeably tense below her, but he didn't refuse. "My dad … I don't really know what else to tell you."
Hermione shifted so that she could look up at him. "What will he think about this?" she asked.
"He's not going to be okay with this," he told her. The frown that crossed his face made her lean forward to kiss his chest. "He's so complicated. I don't know if I've ever really understood him, but this, you and me, is unacceptable. My job is to carry on the name with a Pureblood wife."
"Has he really told you that?" she asked, still a little shocked at how barbaric the whole thing was even though she had suspected as much.
"He doesn't have to. It's just understood that that is what I will do." Draco shrugged. "with the way I was raised, I wouldn't have given anyone outside of the old families a second thought. My mother is friends with a few women who had already started speaking to her about a union."
"Like an arranged marriage?" Hermione asked, alarmed.
"Sort of, but not really. I would still have the final say on who I marry, but it would be perfectly normal for my parents to make a strong suggestion on who they thought I would be most compatible with," Draco explained. "I suppose none of that really matters now."
"Won't your mother expect you to still follow through?"
"I honestly don't know. The last two years have been really hard on her." It was easy to see the pain he carried about his mother. His voice changed from the matter of fact delivery he had been using to something closer to how he sounded when he talked about how he felt about Hermione.
"She saved Harry," Hermione said. She had examined this decision of Narcissa Malfoy hundreds of times, hoping to understand it, to find some clue about who this woman was.
"Yes, she did," Draco agreed. "And, he helped to keep her out of prison and me. I am the most important thing in my mother's life. I hate to think it would come to this, but if I was forced to give her an ultimatum, I am fairly sure that she would accept you instead of losing me."
"Do you … I mean …" She stopped, unsure of how to ask him what they should do next.
"I have no idea what we do from here," he admitted, understanding her hesitation.
"I think I might try to feel out Harry while I'm at Grimmauld. See how he might take it." Hermione bit her lip as she spoke, unsure how Draco would react to her considering taking this relationship outside of the two of them.
"I can't believe he's living there, and Weasley." Draco added the last bit with emphasis, and Hermione rolled her eyes again, this time in plain sight.
"Ron is with Lavender," she said simply.
"Yeah, right," Draco said sarcastically.
"I don't understand why you think something is going on," Hermione told him, starting to get annoyed.
"I don't think anything is going on. I just know you aren't the kind of girl a bloke just stops wanting." Draco shifted, pulling her beneath him to kiss her soundly. "And, you're mine."
"I don't belong to anyone," Hermione told him, but she was smiling.
"I'm not stupid enough to ever think you would." He was pushing up the edge of his t-shirt to feel her stomach, and she couldn't even muster up annoyance that she had already showered and was going to be a mess again.
A/N: After a way too long break for life and difficulties with writing this chapter, I give you this chapter.
All my love !
xoxo
Meg
