Family mottos can be surprising. And here's some more self-love, too ;).
Happy birthday, In_Dreams! I hurried up a bit to get this chapter finished as a little present. Have a fabulous day, hun! 3
Huge thanks to everyone who has commented, kudos'ed, favourited or even recommended my story! It's always such a highlight to read what you all think, and it motivates my muse so much.
A big thank you to Kyonomiko for being a wonderful alpha-reader, and to Riptide for his amazing beta-abilities. I'm a lucky woman to have your help! 3
This story is cross-posted from AO3 where it's usually updated one or two days earlier than ffn. My username over there is sarena.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I just borrow the characters and the world for a bit; the plot (as little as there is) is mine, though. This is a non-profit work, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Edited to smooth out minor issues Apr 2020
Fact was, he wasn't sure about a lot of things.
First of all, he wasn't quite sure how he'd coaxed Hermione into staying beyond the twenty minutes she'd initially agreed to; no matter what, though, he wouldn't remind her of the time. He also wasn't sure about the flare of temper they'd both had not even an hour ago, especially after the extended groping she'd allowed him.
She must have seen the painful heroism he'd subjected himself to when he reminded her of the Ice Wind.
He still had her scent in his nose, and if he brought the appendages which had been between her thighs to his nose, he'd probably go bonkers from lust and leap directly onto her lap. All he could do was to cling to the discouraging effect of her spellwork, and hope his body would get the final memo, too. He had, in fact, noticed the power Granger had put into her incantation. It was mind-boggling how they both weren't blocks of ice already. Or how his dick still was half-hard and his bollocks not swollen to the size of oranges by now. At least he'd been able to reign his appendages in and repair his shirt.
In addition to all those riddles, he didn't quite like the thought of being manipulated into doing something, even if it was sex for his benefit, nor that it also might be manipulating his witch. He personally had his fair share of non-choices to last the next two lifetimes. Wizarding-lifetimes.
And lastly, the most disturbing fact was that his family had managed to keep such an important secret covered up for generations on end, if Abraxas' list was any indication. Not so Sanctimonium Vincet Semper after all, eh? And if they couldn't find out how it had come to be, maybe at least they could find a way to keep it under wraps for another couple of hundred years.
After she'd finished her cake and they'd moved their tea to the desk, Granger opened her notebook, and started to skim her notes. "I've had the very first of your grandpa's journals and some scrolls that I didn't get to. You've gone through the third to the what, tenth?"
Nodding, he said, "Almost. I've half-finished the ninth, but I got stuck on a complicated combination of runes. Here." He opened the journal at the indicated page and showed her the part in question.
She only sighed. "I honestly have no clue. What's the context?"
He rubbed a hand over his tired face. "That's the point. It could mean at least two things. For most of that page, he's rambling about a novel conservation charm for parchment. I believe it's a spell mentioned in that obscure spellbook he seemed to have found a liking for. I haven't tried it." At her lit-up eyes, he added, "That stuff is dark. I don't think there's even one spell in there which doesn't include blood in one way or the other."
Granger wrinkled her cute nose. "I'm not sure I want to know what all exactly he dabbled in."
He concurred with another nod. "Some of the spells are simply vile. Some others merely serve to protect family and property. But those runes in his journal could also refer to whatever lies beyond the veil. And if he'd gone as far as necromancy… I draw the line way before that."
Visibly relieved at his words, she asked, "What else do we have?"
"We have that list of ancestors I mentioned earlier." He handed her a handwritten copy, his narrow script decorated with the elegant flourishes his tutors had taught him. They were very different from the rational letters he'd seen her using for her notes.
She read through it, and then looked at him. "Have you searched for anything written by them yet?"
"Yes." He pointed to a few of the bigger piles at a corner of the desk. "Journals and private correspondence, as far as I could discern them from the others."
"Good." She smiled at him. "We should try the Reperio charm." Writing something on the piece of paper in front of her, she then proceeded to cast the spell. The outcome was a bit meagre, as just one parchment made its way to her. Her smile fell, but she laid the document on the wooden surface of the desk and looked for the highlighted words. "Seems like 'tentacles' isn't the most obvious word for our search."
He ripped the document out of her hand and read it. "It's about food, Granger. There's talk about Spanish food in this letter."
Granger shrugged her shoulders. "I should have suspected that you Malfoys might prefer a bit more of a surreptitious language." With a playful gleam in her eyes, she added, "You don't seem too fond of that word either."
The skin of his back twitched, a growl forming in his chest. "Not exactly."
She reached over and stroked across his hand once, then settled back. "I guess we'll have to try any synonym we can think of and, also, more innocuous phrases like 'situation' and 'disposition'. Merlin," she said and started to run a hand through her hair until her fingers got snatched in a snare of curls. "That will be a lot of work."
He dreaded the prospect of the amount of work a little bit, but he definitely liked the one of seeing her during most of it. "We'll manage. With enough toast, spread, and tea, anything is possible."
Leaning further back in her chair, she laughed. He liked the sound of it, and how it made the corners of her eyes crease and her cheeks round. It would be perfect to see them flushed and her mouth wrapped around his—
Nope, not going there. For now.
"Do you have a family tree somewhere?"
Glad for the distraction, he picked up her thought immediately. "The tapestry's in my father's former study."
"We could put up a copy here in the library, where we can refer to it at all times. Mark down the ones mentioned by your grandfather. Write important information on it. How far does this list go?"
"Eleventh century."
"Uh..."
"Yeah. But if it's any consolation, the surviving documentation from the very early part of the family is marginal."
"Alright. Let's take care of the family tree first, then we'll try to search for more information in the documents we have here."
"Sounds like a plan."
His father's study was halfway to the room with the destroyed heirlooms, and Hermione observed each portrait curiously on their way there. Her obvious interest was intriguing but she didn't say anything, and he decided to let her get her fill. Finally reaching the correct door, he unlocked and opened it for her to pass it first.
The room was dark not just because of the advanced time but to keep the colours of the magical stitching as brilliant as possible. Restoration charms from conservation professionals cost a fortune. He lighted the magical torches and unfolded the large sheet of paper, laying it down on the floor, as his father's desk wasn't large enough to accommodate it. The dust and dry air tickled his nose, yet he restrained himself from rubbing it or even sneezing; funny how years of strict mental discipline were still present on demand.
Unaware of his discomfort, Hermione hummed with her eyes fixated on the display of over 900 years of political alliances, careful expansions of wealth, and sometimes even a little bit of love or at least mutual respect. Hermione tilted her head from side to side and then pulled out a couple of her different pens and handed him one.
Eyeing it with a little hesitance, he pulled the cap off. "It's red."
One of her eyebrows ticked up. "Obviously. You take over the maternal lines, I the paternal ones."
He pouted a little. "Why can't I—"
"Oh, sweet Merlin. How old are you, Malfoy? Thirteen?"
"If I was thirteen, I surely wouldn't stand with you here in front of my family's genealogical tapestry." At her second raised eyebrow, he added, "I also seem to remember you trying to beat that bad behaviour out of me back then. Good thing that I'm twenty-five now, and much more mature, right?" He tried to give her a winning smile which seemed to placate her at least a little.
"We'll colour-code the copy. Red for the maternal lines, blue for the paternal ones. And before you start complaining about taking over the maternal lines again: I remember best when I write new knowledge down. So, all of this will help me get an understanding for your family."
"That makes sense, I suppose."
She huffed. "Of course, it does." She started with the first Malfoi of the British branch who'd adjusted his name soon after arriving with William the Conqueror. Working along the tree from his nth-grandfather to the next, she switched to swot-mode. "We're lucky that wizarding folk live longer than Muggles. A Muggle family tree would have approximately fifty percent more generations."
"I guess."
"That probably brings stability. But it also means technological and moral standstill."
"Are you lecturing me about wizarding mores now, Granger?"
"Just take those old-fashioned, idiotic, supremacist family mottos of the Sacred Twenty-Eight." She pointed at the Malfoy family crest on the very top of the family tree and stopped with her mouth already open to issue another barrage of words. Squinting at the banner, she then looked at him with big eyes. He let her stew for a moment.
"The motto you're referring to was declared by Brutus Malfoy, coincidentally or maybe not, when the Statute of Secrecy was enforced," he said calmly and kept drawing a red box around a female Malfoy's name. "Not only was it très chic to have a motto like that back then, it was also very convenient to cover up all the half-bloods which had already been married into the family by simply glossing over facts and pointing at the motto as if it's always been there."
"But—"
"As Head of Family," he spoke a bit louder and didn't let her interrupt him, "I saw it fit to change it, as it neither reflects my beliefs anymore nor what I want my family to represent."
Vires Vincet Semper, the new stitching read.
"Strength always conquers," she translated. "I don't know what to say."
"Let me mark the day in my calendar," he tried to joke, but it fell a bit flat.
Granger stayed silent for a while after that, the blue lines which she drew to connect his ancestors on their copy a bit shaky. Maybe she was aware what changing a family motto truly meant for the living family members, but probably she wasn't. He felt it had been one of the necessary steps to distance himself from his family's past with emphasis, and his mother had been surprisingly quiet about it. He hadn't had any problem with ostracising the loudest of the portraits to the furthest and darkest rooms, far away from interactions with visitors and relatives.
His own name was the last one in his long, branched bloodline. She cleared her throat when she finished with drawing a blue box around it. The spot for the adjoining red one was still empty, and the former, very blurred outlines of Astoria's name had vanished a long time ago from the tapestry, leaving only a highlighted oval which shouldn't be visible at all by now.
"You know," he broke the silence, "Vires doesn't only refer to power and strength in the literal sense. It can also mean mental strength."
Hermione watched him curiously. "In the end, it'll always boil down to the interpretation of the respective member of the family, I guess."
He conceded. "True. I can only lay the groundwork and make sure it's as solid as possible."
After a close look at their copy of the family tree, making sure that everything was accurate, she rolled up the parchment. "That might just be the defining step," she said and dazzled a smile at him.
Moving next to her, he could smell the coconut in her hair again and her earlier arousal. Swallowing hard, he tried his best to keep his overly vivid imagination on a short leash. The appendages still started to stretch his skin.
He reached for her hand, eager to feel a small part of her again, and put it through the crook of his elbow after he'd warded the study. Regaling her with the few random stories he could remember about key family ancestors, they went back to the library. He really should've been able to remember more of them, but he actually wasn't quite sure about the early lineage anymore.
And with recent events, exactly those details might be essential.
Her eyes had been falling closed for a while until she finally acknowledged to herself how exhausted she was. She watched Draco scribbling away with occasional looks at the big genealogical chart they'd put up on a nearby bookshelf. The picture put a smile on her face; it was nice to have a research partner who took the issue as seriously as she did. And beyond his self-evident interest in this topic, she also caught herself imagining both of them in a more relaxed environment.
"I really need to go home and get some sleep," she announced and started to pack her things into her purse. She'd given up her trusted beaded bag a couple of years ago, when Ginny convinced her that a ratty remainder of teenage years wasn't befitting of a witch with sophisticated career goals. That hadn't prevented her from equipping her set of handbags with Undetectable Extension Charms, of course. Just switching between them got a bit more difficult.
Draco stood up and turned and twisted his back. It was amazing how he looked so crisp and flawless despite wearing a recently repaired shirt and having worked at a desk for hours. She was a little envious.
"I'll bring you to the floo."
"The perfect host, as I'd expected," she teased a little.
"Can't have you causing mischief in my home, can I? You might accidentally end up in my bedroom, since you can't even manage to travel to a prominent apparition point without a hitch." The faint wrinkles around his eyes deepened with his smirk, and she slapped his chest a little with the back of her hand.
"Oh hush." She laughed. "But seriously, how could that have happened? Your wards should've repelled me instantly, throwing me on my arse, at least."
"You're right. I'll check their integrity in detail. If something was completely wrong with them, Wompy would have told me. And—" He paused and looked at her with hesitation.
"And?"
"When I was a child, my father taught me about… this sounds so wrong considering what happened in the war and why we were even in it."
"Go on."
"He taught me about my responsibilities and duties as a Malfoy. About family magic, and how only the blood of the purest of witches and wizards had made our house to what it is now. No matter how wrong that sentiment is, you need to understand that this building is so imbued with magic, that it's more or less impossible to get through the wards without permission or a year of curse-breaking work. And I have not given you explicit permission. It's a little unsettling, but I will try to shed light on that. Not like we don't have enough on our plate anyway." He sighed.
She entwined her fingers with his and squeezed lightly. "Like Hogwarts," she said and looked at him in awe.
He shook his head. "No. Hogwarts is almost sentient. Malfoy Manor isn't, no matter how powerful my ancestors wished they were. Maybe in a couple of hundred years, if my family keeps adding their magic."
Hermione hummed in understanding. She hesitated a little when they came to a standstill in front of the floo, then she looked at him from under her eyelashes.
With a murmur which suspiciously sounded like, "Oh fuck it," he took her face in both hands and kissed her. She responded immediately, wrapping both of her arms around his neck and pulling him snug against her body. Softly exploring the outer line of his lips, she anticipated the ripping sound of his shirt and smiled with his lower lip between her teeth when she felt the tentacles wrap around her limbs. He pressed his mouth hard on hers and moved along the line of her neck until he started to suck on her pulse point. Hermione moaned and tilted her neck to the side, well aware that he was going to leave a love-bite. With one hand on her arse and the other one kneading her breast, his elevated body heat ran right to her core, making her wet again but she'd take care of that issue soon.
Casting the Ice Wind and pushing lightly against his chest, she said, "I really need to go home now."
He grunted, in consent or no, she couldn't tell, but since he didn't stop sucking and laving her throat, he probably disagreed. She pushed a little more, and he slowly dislodged his mouth and hands, looking at her with pink cheeks and blown-out pupils. He was beautiful like that.
Tempted to reach for his cock but also knowing that she'd never be able to stop there if she did, she pecked his lips, and turned to grab a fistful of the floo-powder. She'd underestimated the grip his appendages still had on her, though. He chuckled a little at her squirming, and then kissed her again, more passionately than her peck, before he released her.
"Same time tomorrow?" He asked.
"I need to check my schedule tomorrow. I'll owl you."
He picked up her hand and breathed a kiss on her knuckles with mock-formality. "I'll be awaiting your missive with bated breath, fair lady."
"Don't suffocate until then, Malfoy," she said with a smirk, and added, "Good night, dear sir." She curtsied with the same amount of sarcasm, spoke her address with a swoosh of floo powder thrown, and finally went through the green flames.
Hermione's grin turned into a pleased smile when she stumbled out of the chimney. She dusted herself off of the thin layer of ash and floo powder, and her hands briefly lingered on her breasts. Her nipples were stiff, aching for more attention than she could give them herself. She squeezed them harshly anyway, moaning at the mix of pleasure and pain, then looked at the clock on the wall, and sighed. It was already considerably past midnight, but she didn't like the possibility of sleeping without any relief for all her accumulated tension, at all.
Only thinking about Malfoy made her feel warm already. She toed her shoes off and slipped into her cat house slippers, single-mindedly moving to the bathroom to go through her nightly ablutions. Her eyes glanced at her full breasts when she brushed her teeth, wondering if Malfoy had enjoyed the round feeling of them. Or how it would be to feel him directly on her skin. Not just his hands, but all of him.
She felt giddy with the prospect of half an hour of fantasies before she'd fall asleep sated and didn't even bother changing into her nightwear on her way to bed but only threw all of her clothes into the laundry basket. Pulling and twisting her nipples when she was on her back, finally, she imagined the feeling of his smooth tentacles on her breasts and almost moaned. Maybe she shouldn't have stopped him. Then she wouldn't have to deal with this frustration. Maybe she'd even be up for round two or three by now.
She picked up her toy and switched it on. Malfoy—Draco—would have a field day knowing it had a dark green colour. Hermione held the vibrating tip against her clit and sighed loudly. Maybe he wasn't even into her pleasuring herself. But maybe he'd love to see her fuck herself on something that he'd probably call a Slytherin cock, by extension at least. She moved the toy further down to her entrance to gather up some of the wetness. Her lips parted easily, squelching slightly when she moved the vibrator a bit in and out again to wet her pussy. The tip moved around her clit, and she bit her lips when she felt herself clenching, with the toy pressing just right against her nub. The vibrations made her toes curl.
With the next pinch on her nipple, Hermione imagined Draco playing with her breasts. His hot hands would cup their fullness, first brushing his thumbs over them, like he had earlier, until she would tell him to squeeze them. Or even better, to have his tentacles play with them. She groaned into her empty bedroom at that mental image.
Tilting the green cock a bit back, she moved it to her opening and slowly worked it into her core. She still could close her hand around its girth, but it did stretch her a bit, just the way she liked it. In the back of her mind, she was sure that Draco's cock would stretch her just as deliciously, maybe even a little more if she'd felt that bulge correctly. She replayed the hot and steely feel of his crotch against her, how the movements of his hips would rub her just the right way. Another wave of slick was coating her cunt. Abandoning her nipple, she moved the fingers of her free hand further down, feeling the motions of the toy and coating her fingertips in her own wetness; then she started to rub wide circles around her clit, swiping over it at times while her other hand fucked her vibrator in and out slowly.
She would savour this, would make the most of the fresh memories of him.
"Oh fuck." She pulled it out completely and watched the glistening toy before she slid the whole buzzing length along her clit. Would the head of his cock be purple in a similar situation? Would he tease her relentlessly and whisper dirty nothings into her ear? She pushed the dildo into herself again, with a bit more force and a twist which made her hiss this time, mimicking a hard thrust. The fingertips holding it were slippery by now, just as the index and middle finger of her other hand were. She picked up their speed, rubbing faster around her clit and changing the angle of the toy to slide it over her G-spot with every movement in and out.
"Oh." Hermione panted in pleasure and her cunt gripped the toy more and more with every pass of her fingers across her clit. Her wetness was dripping down the crack of her arse and it would pool on her sheets. It didn't matter. What mattered was the image of Malfoy watching her, jerking on his dick, praising her for taking her pleasure from where and when she wanted it.
She felt her inner coil tighten and increased the frequency of her fingers. The toy was stagnant now, just the tip of it pressing against that sensitive spot inside of her that would enhance her orgasm. She felt the blood in her face and the sweat on her whole body. Her hair was surely a mess with all the hectic movements her head usually made when she got off by herself and she wondered if Draco would bury his face in it. She was moaning and breathing loudly, her fingers circling and pressing so fast against that nerve centre that the wet sounds could only be described as obscene.
"Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Draco—" With an inner picture of her pussy stretching and moving along Draco's cock, she finally climaxed. Her back arched, lips forming the last letter of his name, and her hand pushed the toy as far inside as possible. Her cunt contracted so hard that she felt the pulsing against the hand holding it in place.
Hermione exhaled with a soft whine, letting her body fall back on the bed from where it had lifted during her orgasm. She twisted the toy in her aftershocks, and moaned again at the wonderful drag of it against her walls when she slowly pulled it out and switched it off. It was covered in her thick come, the long string of it snapping and causing a cool sensation when it landed on her exposed clit.
Spread-eagle on her mussed bed, she turned her cheek to cool it on the pillow and held the slick green vibrator in her right hand. She knew that she had to get up and clean it, but for now, she would just close her eyes for a bit and enjoy the satisfaction. It wouldn't hold up for long anyway.
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