Prolouge:
It wasn't until after she was gone that he realized that she was the only light in his world. She was the only thing that kept him from darkness. And the same went for her.
By that time, however, it was too late. She had left for a destination unknown to him and he was officially added onto the roster of the Dark Side. Their futures had been molded and neither included the other. Until now.
Draco Malfoy stood at the entrance to the Puddlemere Quidditch Pitch as he awaited the Dark wizard Voldemort was sending to help him on his latest task. And she arrived right on schedule.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 1 - The Forbidden Past
"Malfoy," the woman in front of him curtly nodded her head showing that she acknowledged him.
"Yes?" he replied carelessly. While the looks of the woman in front of him did posses his attention, he had more important things to worry about. She couldn't be lounging around when his reinforcement was on his way.
"My name is Jacqueline Lacoure. I was sent here to help you eliminate the Auror. As far as everyone else knows, I am simply a reporter from Witch Weekly working on an assignment with the Puddlemere team," the woman replied in the same manner he had spoken to her in.
"Of course," Draco nodded despite the fact that he was confused. Voldemort had never sent a woman to help him before, or any other Death Eater he had spoken to for that matter. However, Draco, as usual, kept his emotions undercover and continued on, not missing a beat. "Here is the information you requested. Surrey O'Keefe is the subject. He is supposedly an Auror. Contact between the two of us is supposed to stay moderate in public. If you have any more questions, you know my name, obviously. Feel free to Floo in at any time." With that, Draco turned on his exuberantly priced boots' heel and walked off. Just before he turned the corner he called back to her, never giving her the effort of even turning his head, "And a helpful hint: don't screw this up, Lacoure. You'll be killed for it."
Then he was gone. Hermione stood there for only a quick moment, staring at his back as he walked away yet again. Memories that she had managed to store in the tiny broken-hearted box she hid deep inside herself resurfaced.
She quickly pushed them back down again, managing to ignore the nearly overpowering flood that had pushed itself upon her.
Hermione turned in the opposite direction of that Draco had gone and strutted back down the cement entryway, the only sound following her being the click of her own leather boots on the ground. Three years of working for Voldemort and she had thought she had faced everything. Only now did she remember that he had been excluded from that list. Until now.
Hermione hurried to her latest sanctuary: her hotel room. How had she managed to get herself into this disaster? She had fled from everything she didn't want to remember. She had left Harry. She had left Ron. She had left her previous job as the editor of the Daily Prophet. And now he was here. The one person she had wanted to escape more than anything else.
Their relationship had been a strange one from the beginning. It, of course, had started with the rivalry between Draco and her best friend, Harry Potter. The loathing that had passed between the two boys had nearly been palpable back when they were at Hogwarts and she had always been forced to play the mediator. She had kept Harry and her other friend, Ron Weasley, from getting themselves expelled and Malfoy killed on numerous accounts.
But, then, an unexpected change had come over the two of them. They had been paired up for a particularly nasty Transfiguration assignment during which they had to transform a mouse into a tiger and then write a two-foot long essay on it. Despite their original conceptions about their pairings, they had begun respecting each other. Hermione had grown to admire Draco because of his strength and his intelligence and she believed he had come to admire her because she was one of the few people who could keep up with him.
The sixteen year old Draco Malfoy she had known was full of aspirations and hopes for his future and he was one of the few people she figured would be able to accomplish just about anything he wanted to. He could play Quidditch well, he was extremely persuasive and cunning, he was easy on the eyes, and, not to mention, incredibly intelligent. He had everything in his life going for him, except for an extremely overbearing father, and he had grown to believe that she had the same chances stretched out before her because of her intelligence and willingness to learn.
Hermione, however, had thought in an entirely different manner. Hermione had found herself horribly hopeless as a sixteen year old. At that point, she had no idea who she was. If you took Harry and Ron out of her life, Hermione Granger was a nobody with not one chance at a future. Well, at least in her own eyes.
Out of this respect between the two of them had grown a strange, forbidden friendship. Neither of them really understood. They just occasionally met up in the prefects' common room and would talk. It didn't matter what the topic, whether it be the Goblin Rebellions discussed in History of Magic or the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match the previous Saturday that undoubtedly Draco had won.
After that, what had already gotten terribly out of hand was pushed a step further. One night in a heated argument, Draco simply decided to capture Hermione's rambling lips with his own. That was when the real trouble began. One thing began to lead to another and the direction that their relationship had begun in took a complete and total twist.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione smiled as Draco stepped through the hole in the wall that had been revealed when the portrait had swung to the right.
"Good afternoon," she looked up from the book resting in her lap just in time to catch the mischievous grin on his sweet lips before they conquered her own. "How was your day?" she mumbled between the kisses.
Hermione threw the book that had been in her lap to the side and Draco took its place, pushing her further back onto the scarlet sofa as his mouth continued to dip down and meet hers and his body moved easily overtop of hers.
"Very good," he mumbled as he moved his lips down to nip at her neck. "How was yours?" Draco slid his tongue across her collarbone, sending shivers down her spine and pressed his chest against her. He slowly raked his teeth over her shoulder and watched as Hermione's eyes fluttered closed.
"It's quickly getting better," Hermione chuckled as she pulled his face up to meet her own. She drew a heart on his cheek with her unpainted nails. "Then again, you do have that affect on people, don't you?"
"Only you, Hermione," he pushed his lips forcefully against the pair that sat so temptingly across from him. His tongue flicked across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth wider, granting him access to the dips and curves his tongue wished to explore. He did just that, managing to drag her effortlessly off the sofa as he did.
Hermione stepped backwards as Draco pushed her onward to his room with his body. Her wall hit the doorframe and she felt his hips press into her own impatiently as she fiddled with the bloody handle, suddenly finding herself incompetent at opening a door.
Draco moved his hand from her waist and twisted the knob that stopped them from getting to his bed. As the door flew open, she stumbled backwards, dragging him along with her. He wasted no time in busying his fingers in quickly unbuttoning the buttons that were delaying his conquest. Hermione made no mistake in catching his hurry and moved her hands to the golden buttons that clasped his cloak to his body.
Most of their afternoons had gone like this. Whenever alone together, it always ended in a showing of unbridled lust. It was what the two of them looked forward to during the day. They sat through classes watching the clock not only to get out of the deathly boring rooms, but also to indulge themselves in those few hours of euphoria that they had together.
Hermione didn't remember exactly when their relationship had simply become purely sexual, but she had to say, she didn't mind. Yes, she missed the conversations she and Draco used to have, but they no longer had time for that. It was no longer important either.
When she and Draco had sex . . . it was enticing. Not only for the obvious reasons, but because the Hermione that she let show inside the prefect common room was a completely different Hermione than that she showed in all other rooms in Hogwarts - except the broom closet that one time - but if you had told Harry or Ron or Parvati Patil that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had sexual interaction at least three times a week, they would have scoffed in your face. Hermione enjoyed doing the forbidden for once. She was doing something that not one person, except Draco, would expect from her and it felt good not to be completely predictable.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione was snapped back into reality as a car horn beeped, forcing her to realize that she was standing in the middle of the highway. Hermione hurried over to the other side of the street and started down the sidewalk to her hotel.
It wasn't until after she was gone that he realized that she was the only light in his world. She was the only thing that kept him from darkness. And the same went for her.
By that time, however, it was too late. She had left for a destination unknown to him and he was officially added onto the roster of the Dark Side. Their futures had been molded and neither included the other. Until now.
Draco Malfoy stood at the entrance to the Puddlemere Quidditch Pitch as he awaited the Dark wizard Voldemort was sending to help him on his latest task. And she arrived right on schedule.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 1 - The Forbidden Past
"Malfoy," the woman in front of him curtly nodded her head showing that she acknowledged him.
"Yes?" he replied carelessly. While the looks of the woman in front of him did posses his attention, he had more important things to worry about. She couldn't be lounging around when his reinforcement was on his way.
"My name is Jacqueline Lacoure. I was sent here to help you eliminate the Auror. As far as everyone else knows, I am simply a reporter from Witch Weekly working on an assignment with the Puddlemere team," the woman replied in the same manner he had spoken to her in.
"Of course," Draco nodded despite the fact that he was confused. Voldemort had never sent a woman to help him before, or any other Death Eater he had spoken to for that matter. However, Draco, as usual, kept his emotions undercover and continued on, not missing a beat. "Here is the information you requested. Surrey O'Keefe is the subject. He is supposedly an Auror. Contact between the two of us is supposed to stay moderate in public. If you have any more questions, you know my name, obviously. Feel free to Floo in at any time." With that, Draco turned on his exuberantly priced boots' heel and walked off. Just before he turned the corner he called back to her, never giving her the effort of even turning his head, "And a helpful hint: don't screw this up, Lacoure. You'll be killed for it."
Then he was gone. Hermione stood there for only a quick moment, staring at his back as he walked away yet again. Memories that she had managed to store in the tiny broken-hearted box she hid deep inside herself resurfaced.
She quickly pushed them back down again, managing to ignore the nearly overpowering flood that had pushed itself upon her.
Hermione turned in the opposite direction of that Draco had gone and strutted back down the cement entryway, the only sound following her being the click of her own leather boots on the ground. Three years of working for Voldemort and she had thought she had faced everything. Only now did she remember that he had been excluded from that list. Until now.
Hermione hurried to her latest sanctuary: her hotel room. How had she managed to get herself into this disaster? She had fled from everything she didn't want to remember. She had left Harry. She had left Ron. She had left her previous job as the editor of the Daily Prophet. And now he was here. The one person she had wanted to escape more than anything else.
Their relationship had been a strange one from the beginning. It, of course, had started with the rivalry between Draco and her best friend, Harry Potter. The loathing that had passed between the two boys had nearly been palpable back when they were at Hogwarts and she had always been forced to play the mediator. She had kept Harry and her other friend, Ron Weasley, from getting themselves expelled and Malfoy killed on numerous accounts.
But, then, an unexpected change had come over the two of them. They had been paired up for a particularly nasty Transfiguration assignment during which they had to transform a mouse into a tiger and then write a two-foot long essay on it. Despite their original conceptions about their pairings, they had begun respecting each other. Hermione had grown to admire Draco because of his strength and his intelligence and she believed he had come to admire her because she was one of the few people who could keep up with him.
The sixteen year old Draco Malfoy she had known was full of aspirations and hopes for his future and he was one of the few people she figured would be able to accomplish just about anything he wanted to. He could play Quidditch well, he was extremely persuasive and cunning, he was easy on the eyes, and, not to mention, incredibly intelligent. He had everything in his life going for him, except for an extremely overbearing father, and he had grown to believe that she had the same chances stretched out before her because of her intelligence and willingness to learn.
Hermione, however, had thought in an entirely different manner. Hermione had found herself horribly hopeless as a sixteen year old. At that point, she had no idea who she was. If you took Harry and Ron out of her life, Hermione Granger was a nobody with not one chance at a future. Well, at least in her own eyes.
Out of this respect between the two of them had grown a strange, forbidden friendship. Neither of them really understood. They just occasionally met up in the prefects' common room and would talk. It didn't matter what the topic, whether it be the Goblin Rebellions discussed in History of Magic or the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match the previous Saturday that undoubtedly Draco had won.
After that, what had already gotten terribly out of hand was pushed a step further. One night in a heated argument, Draco simply decided to capture Hermione's rambling lips with his own. That was when the real trouble began. One thing began to lead to another and the direction that their relationship had begun in took a complete and total twist.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione smiled as Draco stepped through the hole in the wall that had been revealed when the portrait had swung to the right.
"Good afternoon," she looked up from the book resting in her lap just in time to catch the mischievous grin on his sweet lips before they conquered her own. "How was your day?" she mumbled between the kisses.
Hermione threw the book that had been in her lap to the side and Draco took its place, pushing her further back onto the scarlet sofa as his mouth continued to dip down and meet hers and his body moved easily overtop of hers.
"Very good," he mumbled as he moved his lips down to nip at her neck. "How was yours?" Draco slid his tongue across her collarbone, sending shivers down her spine and pressed his chest against her. He slowly raked his teeth over her shoulder and watched as Hermione's eyes fluttered closed.
"It's quickly getting better," Hermione chuckled as she pulled his face up to meet her own. She drew a heart on his cheek with her unpainted nails. "Then again, you do have that affect on people, don't you?"
"Only you, Hermione," he pushed his lips forcefully against the pair that sat so temptingly across from him. His tongue flicked across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth wider, granting him access to the dips and curves his tongue wished to explore. He did just that, managing to drag her effortlessly off the sofa as he did.
Hermione stepped backwards as Draco pushed her onward to his room with his body. Her wall hit the doorframe and she felt his hips press into her own impatiently as she fiddled with the bloody handle, suddenly finding herself incompetent at opening a door.
Draco moved his hand from her waist and twisted the knob that stopped them from getting to his bed. As the door flew open, she stumbled backwards, dragging him along with her. He wasted no time in busying his fingers in quickly unbuttoning the buttons that were delaying his conquest. Hermione made no mistake in catching his hurry and moved her hands to the golden buttons that clasped his cloak to his body.
Most of their afternoons had gone like this. Whenever alone together, it always ended in a showing of unbridled lust. It was what the two of them looked forward to during the day. They sat through classes watching the clock not only to get out of the deathly boring rooms, but also to indulge themselves in those few hours of euphoria that they had together.
Hermione didn't remember exactly when their relationship had simply become purely sexual, but she had to say, she didn't mind. Yes, she missed the conversations she and Draco used to have, but they no longer had time for that. It was no longer important either.
When she and Draco had sex . . . it was enticing. Not only for the obvious reasons, but because the Hermione that she let show inside the prefect common room was a completely different Hermione than that she showed in all other rooms in Hogwarts - except the broom closet that one time - but if you had told Harry or Ron or Parvati Patil that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had sexual interaction at least three times a week, they would have scoffed in your face. Hermione enjoyed doing the forbidden for once. She was doing something that not one person, except Draco, would expect from her and it felt good not to be completely predictable.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione was snapped back into reality as a car horn beeped, forcing her to realize that she was standing in the middle of the highway. Hermione hurried over to the other side of the street and started down the sidewalk to her hotel.