Thank you as always to my wonderful beta CourtingInsanity. I'm so glad to have you on this journey with me Xx
A squeeze of lemons in this chapter. Juicy, juicy lemons.
October 31st
"Hurry up, Malfoy! We'll be late!"
"All right, Granger. Keep your pants on."
"Perhaps it escaped your notice, Malfoy, but I'm not wearing pants."
Draco walked into the sitting room and grinned lasciviously at Hermione, who was wearing a gangster's moll costume. It comprised of a form-fitting pinstripe jacket with flared lapels over a low-cut white blouse, and a pencil skirt which matched the jacket.
"Indeed you aren't. Perhaps I should check your knickers are still in place, at least?" Draco smirked.
"You stay away from my knickers!" Hermione chastised, pretending to be scandalised.
"Still?" Draco pouted.
They had been quietly dating for the past month, but had yet to move to the sexual stage. Although Hermione wasn't a virgin, she hadn't felt ready yet to consummate their relationship. Draco thought his balls might just explode one of these days, but he was, as he had stated the first time Hermione stayed at the manor with him, a perfect gentleman.
Tonight, they were heading to a halloween party at The Broken Shamrock, and had been getting ready at Hermione's flat.
"I take it you've finished primping, then?" Hermione sniped, admiring Draco's costume.
He was wearing a pinstripe jacket and trousers similar to hers, with a white waistcoat and black silk shirt. In the breast pocket of the jacket sat a neatly folded red handkerchief.
"Hey, I had to get my hair just right." Draco grinned, donning the grey fedora that finished off the costume as Hermione attached a small black fascinator to her hair and pulled the lace veil down over her eyes. She simply rolled her eyes in response.
"Right, where are the guns?" Hermione asked, looking around the room.
Draco picked up one of the two toys that had been sitting on Hermione's couch and looked at it curiously. It was long and slim with a menacing-looking grey barrel and two hand grips, one behind the trigger and a second in front of a round cylinder.
"What did you say this was called, again?" he asked curiously.
"A Tommy gun." Hermione picked up the second prop and held it out. "Short for Thompson. They were a type of submachine popular with criminals in the nineteen-thirties, especially those who were involved in organised crime, but they were also used by police officers during that era."
"And what's with the cylinder?"
"It's called a drum magazine. They could hold more bullets than a standard magazine because they were loaded in a spiral shape instead of in a straight line."
Draco nodded but still looked slightly confused. "Don't worry," Hermione reassured him. "Even muggles find the different ways firearms work to be difficult to follow. There are hundreds of different kinds."
"And muggles used these to kill each other?" Draco asked.
"They still do," Hermione replied, frowning slightly. "Firearms are useful tools in the muggle world, but they are easily misused." Picking up her purse, she added, "Have you got everything?"
When he nodded, she took his arm and apparated them both out of her flat.
When they arrived at the pub, it was already busy despite the relatively early hour. Making their way inside, Draco looked toward the bar.
"I'll get the drinks," he suggested, "if you'll look for a free spot."
Hermione nodded in agreement and looked around the room, spotting a small round table with high chairs. She moved quickly over and jumped up on a stool, placing her purse on the tabletop. She had been waiting only a few minutes when Draco arrived bearing a tray with two beers and two shots of whiskey.
"Cheers!" they toasted each other.
"So how will the club cope without you tonight?" Draco grinned at Hermione. Since Halloween fell on a Friday night this year, Hermione had taken the night off from singing at The Blue Jazzist so she could attend the yearly Halloween party at The Broken Shamrock.
"Roger has the band playing without me." She smiled. "He says he'll manage somehow."
"And when will Larry start back?" Draco asked.
"Next weekend, if his doctor gives him the all clear," Hermione replied. "He's been working really hard with his physio, and his wiring was taken out a few days ago."
Larry and John were both recovering well from the attacks nearly two months previously, but John was facing a longer recovery time due to the break in his leg. He had hoped to return to work not long after Larry, but his doctor had advised against it as the bones would not be at full strength even once the cast was removed.
"I visited John yesterday," Draco mused. "His wife says he's driving her crazy."
Hermione laughed. "I can imagine. John never was the type to be happy sitting idle for any length of time."
"Hey, you two! Looking good!"
Draco and Hermione turned in the direction of the new voice to see Mickey standing before them and grinning, a drink in his hand.
"Hi, Mickey!" Hermione greeted him. "What time are you on?"
"About half an hour," he replied. "Hey, Draco," he added, turning to the blond man. "Dan says you're killing it at guitar lessons."
Draco smiled shyly. "Thanks," he acknowledged. "I'm picking up more combinations now, and I can play about half a dozen songs."
Mickey had given Daniel's number to Draco the night Hermione had first taken him to the pub, but he hadn't owned a cell phone and had no idea how to use one. The following day, Hermione had taken Draco back to muggle London to purchase a phone, and had painstakingly taught him how to use it. He enjoyed using the camera function, even if the images didn't move, but he found it frustrating that the contraption didn't work in magical areas.
Draco had gotten the hang of the cell phone quite quickly and had made contact with Daniel to arrange the lessons. Due to his varying hours, he found himself with many hours free to practice. As a result, his skill in playing the guitar had progressed quickly. He had purchased his own instrument two weeks ago, and planned to have a second one custom-made.
"D'ya want to play a few songs through with us tonight?" Mickey invited.
Draco's face lit up, then dropped. "I'd love to, but I don't know how well I'd go in front of a crowd."
"Ahh, no, you'll be fine," Mickey reassured him. "You can come on in the second half of the set when most of the patrons will be a bit pissed, They won't notice if you miss a chord or two."
"Should I?" Draco turned to Hermione.
"Of course!" she insisted. "I'd love to see you play!"
Although he had been working hard at his lessons, he'd so far been too shy to show her what he had learned so far.
"Hermione, you know our songs," Mickey added. "You'll do vocals with me, won't you?"
"Absolutely!" She beamed.
"Excellent!" Mickey grinned. We'll call for you after we have our break." He looked at his watch. "Shite, I'd better go get ready." He drained the last of his beer and headed toward the podium, giving them a wave as he left.
Draco turned to Hermione, looking nervous. "I haven't played in front of anyone before," he muttered. "What was I thinking?" He ran his hands through his blond locks, tugging at the ends.
"Have a drink or two and you'll be fine," Hermione reassured him. "Just don't have too much or you might get sloppy."
"Right." Draco picked up his beer and swallowed half the contents before returning the glass to the table and belching loudly.
"Draco Malfoy! That is not at all refined!" Hermione teased, laughing.
Draco just grinned and winked. "I'm liking this whole unrefined thing." He laughed. "It's very freeing to be able to act like a normal person instead of being so stiff and formal all the time."
Since he and Hermione had begun dating, she had encouraged him to stop concerning himself so with the traditions of propriety and formality that shackled him and other prestigious pureblood families. He had found it exceedingly difficult at first to let go of a lifetime of deeply ingrained rules and behaviours, but gradually he was beginning to adapt to a more casual way of holding himself and interacting with other people.
It probably helps that we spend so much time around muggles, Draco mused to himself. After repeated trips to muggle areas and interactions with the people there, he couldn't understand why certain members of wizarding society had long held such animosity toward them. They were very similar to magical citizens, with the only discernible difference being that they had no idea magic really existed.
Their attention was captured at that moment by the familiar sounds of the band preparing to begin their set.
"Tell me again why I agreed to get up there and play," Draco said, uncertainty written across his face as he looked toward the platform.
"Because it's fun and you'll have a great time once you get into it." Hermione smiled. "But just in case, I'll get us another round."
She ducked away to the bar, and Draco watched her go with a faint smile on his face. What did I do to deserve her? He wondered to himself. He still found it hard to believe they had actually been seeing each other for the past few weeks.
Since the first time she had taken him to The Broken Shamrock, Draco's urges to drink excessively had greatly lessened and his nightmares were growing less frequent. Hermione consented to stay at the manor with him two or three nights a week, and he would stay with her at her flat at least one night a week. He found it difficult to be apart from her for any length of time, but understood she was an independent witch who liked her own space, and he was afraid of smothering her.
Draco was pulled from his musings by Hermione returning with the drinks. "Thanks," he said gratefully, accepting the pint she handed him. He drank deeply, then placed the glass down to listen to the band launch into their first song of the night. The opening instrumental was long, but he found himself immediately liking it. He glanced over at Hermione and wondered why she was smirking. "What?" he asked, but she just shook her head.
His head suddenly snapped up as the lyrics caught his attention. Mickey was singing about magic.
"Got a black magic woman
Got a black magic woman
I've got a black magic woman, got me so blind I can't see
That she's a black magic woman and she's trying to make a devil out of me."
Hermione laughed as she swayed to the music. Grinning, Draco grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to the space in front of the platform, where he swung her into a simple cha-cha. They stepped in unison forward and back, and when he guided her out to spin she moved with ease and grace, nestling comfortably into his chest when she twirled her body back toward his.
At the end of the song, they paused for breath and were surprised to hear cheers and applause. Looking around, Draco noticed the rest of the patrons had been watching, and smiled shyly while Hermione ducked her head and blushed.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" Hermione asked as they made their way back to their seats.
"Families like mine attended a lot of balls and galas," Draco explained. "It was expected all the children of wealthy pureblood families learn a wide variety of dances from a young age."
"It's just that… Latin dancing doesn't seem like a style I would expect wealthy pureblood families to to take an interest in," Hermione mused, frowning slightly.
"Why?"
"It's such a passionate style of dance," Hermione elaborated. "It's fast-paced and sensual, and pureblood families seem to be… well…" She paused uncomfortably, not wishing to offend Draco.
"Seem to be what?" he prompted her, smiling.
"So stuffy and… snooty!" Hermione exclaimed. "I simply can't imagine a room full of purebloods dancing a merengue or a rumba."
Draco laughed heartily. "And what types of dances would you expect to see a roomful of purebloods engaging in?"
"Old fashioned ones. Waltzes, court dances of the renaissance period, that kind of thing," Hermione replied, waving her hand and shrugging.
Draco rolled his eyes. "How stereotypical of you Granger," he teased.
"I— I'm not! I simply—!" Hermione stuttered, blushing furiously. She picked up her drink and took a mouthful in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.
Draco laughed again, a proper laugh. Merlin, this is wonderful, he thought to himself. I'm in a muggle pub, joining in a muggle Halloween celebration, and I swear it's the best party I've ever been to.
"Face it, Granger," he mocked, smirking. "You're just as capable of prejudice as us purebloods are."
"Well… well..." Hermione struggled to offer a rebuttal as Draco watched on in amusement. "You lot are more prejudiced! So there!" she blurted suddenly. To complete her outburst, she poked her tongue out at him in defiance.
"Very mature, Granger," Draco observed drily.
"Shut up, ferret," Hermione muttered into her beer, fixing him with a glare.
"I guess this means I won," the blond boasted in a sing-song voice. "Slytherin comes out on top again!"
"There will be no coming, on top or otherwise, if you don't shut it," Hermione growled before tipping back her glass to swallow the last of her drink.
The arrogant grin Draco has been wearing dropped from his face so quickly, Hermione burst into laughter, spluttering into her glass and getting beer up her nose.
"Owww!" she complained through her mirth, rubbing at her face.
"Wait. Granger, what do you mean?"
"What do you think I mean?" Hermione smiled at his coquettishly, batting her eyelashes. "Another drink?" She turned away from him and wandered languidly over to the bar, hips swaying slightly in the fitted skirt she wore.
Draco sat at the table like a stunned mullet, frantically trying to decipher what her last comment had meant.
"...coming, on top or otherwise…"
Did this mean what he hoped it meant?
He was suddenly aware he had a very persistent erection, so persistent he was afraid he might make a hole in the front of his trousers. Looking around surreptitiously, Draco attempted to adjust his standing position so that his condition would not be obvious to anyone who happened to look in their direction.
Hermione smirked to herself as she headed toward the bar. I won, she thought triumphantly. The look on Draco's face had been priceless.
She had indeed meant what he thought she meant, but there was no way in hell she was going to confirm either way. No, it was far more entertaining to make him sweat for the rest of the evening.
Hermione was anticipating the end of the night, when she planned to return to the manor with Draco and shag the blond wizard senseless. It had been far too long since she'd gotten laid and she had wanted to jump on his cock the first time she had stayed at the manor with him, the kisses they had shared awakening in her a long-suppressed raw desire to be filled and fucked. .
However, her parents had been on the conservative side and had bought her up with the expectation that one should spend some time getting to know the person they were dating before immediately diving between the sheets with them.
"Sex always changes things, Hermione," Jean Granger had insisted on more than one occasion. "It's important to find out if you have common interests and compatibility in a non-sexual sense before you take the big step, or you may find you're together for all the wrong reasons and that he is entirely unsuitable."
Having been dating for a month - albeit very discreetly - Hermione had decided she'd waited quite long enough, thank you. She was certain they were intellectually compatible, at least; and although they had very different backgrounds and an acrimonious history, they had so far been able to keep their past issues from interfering with their current relationship.
She ordered the drinks and returned to the table, making sure to school her features into an innocent, relaxed expression that would belie her true intentions. Harry had told her once that her poker face was the most convincing he had ever seen, so she used this to her full advantage now. Voicing the innuendo just previously had caused the anticipation Hermione had been feeling to flare into arousal, and she fought the urge to squeeze her thighs together, lest Draco notice and she gave the game away.
Hermione watched Draco carefully and chuckled inwardly to herself. He was staring at her intently as she handed him his glass, giving him a sweet smile. "The band should be stopping for a break soon," she said, looking toward the platform where a crowd of costume-clad patrons were dancing enthusiastically to Cotton Eye Joe.
Draco started and immediately began to look nervous.
"You'll be fine," she reassured him, sliding her arm around his waist. "Once you start playing, you'll forget all about the audience."
"Do you still get nervous singing in front of a crowd?" Draco asked Hermione curiously.
"Not any more." She shook her head. "I used to get jelly jegs before every performance for ages, but I've become accustomed to it now."
Meanwhile, the song had ended and Mickey was announcing their break. Several minutes later, he returned to their table.
"You still keen, Draco?" he asked, grinning.
"Ummm... yes and no?" Draco mumbled.
"That's what I want to hear!" Mickey smiled. "There's a spare guitar behind the platform. Listen for my lead and just follow the chords, you'll pick them up quickly. We're on again in twenty minutes." With a wave, he headed into the crowd.
Hermione was looking forward to singing, but even more so she was anticipating listening to Draco play. He played down his skill, but Dan had told her he was exceptionally good for someone who had only been learning for a few weeks.
Soon, Mickey was back on stage and announcing them. Hermione took Draco by the hand and led him through the crowd.
"We have a very special treat for you for the second half of our set, folks," Mickey announced into the microphone. "We have two special performers joining us on stage. Give it up for my good mates, Draco and Hermione!"
The crowd clapped and cheered enthusiastically in response.
Draco thought he might vomit. Why had he agreed to this? He was sure he would mess up the cues, get flustered, hit the wrong chords, or that he would just freeze up completely and be utterly incapable of making any movements at all.
Hermione was leading him through the crowd, smiling and waving as they made their way toward the platform. They stepped up to take their places, and Mickey and his bandmates each reached out to shake Draco's hand and kiss Hermione lightly on the cheek.
Draco spotted the spare guitar and picked it up, slinging the strap over his shoulder. It was similar to his own, with a beautiful dark finish and etchings on the base. He began twiddling the tuners and plucking the strings, listening for the subtle sounds that would tell him the instrument would play the at the correct pitch. As he carried out these simple motions, he was surprised to feel some of his nervousness seeping away, to be replaced by a flutter of excitement.
Mickey took a few steps over to him. "You ready, Draco?" he asked. Draco nodded. "Great! Just listen for the chord changes and if you get stuck, play a simple four-time."
Mickey moved back to the front and handed Hermione a second microphone and cued in the rest of the band. A simple beat began to play and Draco listened for a few moments to pick up the tune, before cautiously beginning to strum along to the instrumental as Mickey and Hermione began to sing.
On a cobweb afternoon,
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages of a book full of death;
Reading how we'll die alone.
And if we're good we'll lay to rest,
Anywhere we want to go.
Draco was relieved that the basic tempo wasn't too difficult to follow, and found himself buoyed by the cleansing act of playing the instrument in his hands. Soon he was swept up in the joy of simply playing, and of being a part of the group. Exhilarated, he found himself singing along to the chorus of the songs they played as he began to anticipate them.
Before he knew it, Mickey was announcing the final song of the night, and Draco found himself feeling slightly disappointed that it was nearly over.
He swung into the instrumental, which was simple but pleasant to play, as Mickey and Hermione turned to their microphones once more.
"There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I'm one."
The song was over in a moment, and Draco felt a momentary sense of loss.
"Thank you, everyone, you've been brilliant!" Mickey called over the microphone as the crowd began to cheer and clap. "And please give an extra big hand for our special guests, Draco and Hermione!" The crowd erupted into whistles, shouts, and louder cheers, and Draco found himself grinning like a fool as he stepped forward to give a small bow.
"You did brilliantly!" Hermione enthused, smiling up at him. She was flushed with the exertion of singing and the temperature in the room, and her eyes shone. Draco thought she had never looked more beautiful. Caught up in the moment, he pulled her in for a searing kiss, not caring they were still on the platform in front of the crowd.
When they pulled apart, they were both breathless.
"Can I get a smooch too, Draco?" said a voice in his ear. Laughing, Draco turned to look at Mickey and the other band members, who were all grinning happily at him.
"You were brilliant, mate!" said Michael, who was one of the bass players. The others murmured in agreement, slapping him on the arm companionably.
"Thanks," Draco murmured shyly as he removed the instrument from around his neck. "Thanks for letting me play with you. It was fun." He handed the guitar to Michael, who placed it upright against the drum set behind him.
"You adapted quickly and kept up brilliantly," Michael complimented him. "I'm impressed."
"I didn't want it to end," Draco admitted, not quite able to believe the camaraderie he was suddenly a part of.
"Right! Drinks!" Hermione announced. "My round!"
"I don't think so, Granger," Draco growled. "It's my turn to get the drinks."
"I'll paper-scissors-rock you for it," the witch challenged him.
Draco froze internally. What the hell was paper-scissors-rock?
"Ahh, go on Hermione," Mickey interjected, inadvertently saving Draco from in awkward situation. "Let the man stand a round."
Hermione huffed and waved her hand. "Very well, then."
Draco grinned and headed to the bar to make his order, feeling more real than he had in a long time. He was actually having fun, not just keeping up appearances, and was finally a part of something. He was among people who didn't know his past and therefore wouldn't judge him for his past sins or ostracise him. He finally had purpose, and that purpose was Hermione Granger.
Later that night, they arrived back at the manor, stumbling through the floo and clutching grease-spotted paper bags from a place called McDonalds.
They had both had too much to drink to apparate safely, so they had taken a cab back to Hermione's flat first, detouring on the way for food, and then used her floo to reach the manor. Hermione had suggested just staying at her place, but Draco had argued they should go back to the manor.
"The elves are planning to put on a breakfast for us - well, for you - in the morning," he explained. "They'll be disappointed if we don't return."
Hermione had frowned. "They really don't have to—"
"They want to," Draco interrupted her, smiling slightly. "They adore you, even if you did once try and free all their kind from their enslavement to wizards."
Hermione had long abandoned her goal to have every elf in the wizarding world either freed or paid wages, but she was still passionate about the fair treatment of all magical creatures and constantly worried about enabling their exploitation or making them do things they didn't want to do. Although she was happy to have a good rapport with Draco's house-elves, she found it hard to accept allowing them to do things for her that she was capable of doing for herself. The only way Draco could convince her to capitulate with little protest was to remind her that her refusals would make them unhappy.
Sighing, Hermione nodded and gave him a slight smile. "Well, I don't want to disappoint them," she recanted. "Let me just say hello to Athena and check on her food."
Draco watched as Hermione gave the owl, who was balanced on her perch, a gentle pat and a scratch above the beak before checking her food bowl and topping it up with some chopped meat.
"Okay, let's go." She took his hand and led him to the floo, and in moments they were swallowed by the green flames.
As soon as they stepped out of the fireplace at the manor, Hermione headed to the now-familiar sitting room and opened the bag she was clutching. Draco sat down next to her and opened his own bag, salivating at the delicious smell that wafted up to greet him.
"Explain to me what this McDonald's place is?" Draco asked as they unwrapped their food and began to eat. He took a bite of the burger he'd chosen - Hermione told him it was called a "Quarter Pounder" - and hummed in pleasure. It was greasy, and warm, and oozing with melted cheese and sauce. "Granger, this is fantastic!" he exclaimed.
"It's a fast-food restaurant popular in the muggle world," she explained. "It originated in America, but there are branches all over the world. It's considered junk food, because as you can tell, the menu items are laden with fat and salt." She took another bite, chewing and swallowing before continuing. "It's incredibly unhealthy and not something one should eat every day, but it's a nice treat and—" she giggled "—a must for after a drinking session, to absorb the alcohol."
"There are so many great thing about the muggle world," Draco mused, taking a handful of fries. "I pity the wizards and witches who are utterly ignorant of things like fast food and cellphones, and that other thing with the moving pictures that tell a story - what are they called, again? - moonies?"
"Movies," Hermione corrected him, smiling.
Just last week she had taken Draco to see XxX, the new action movie starring Vin Diesel. He had been utterly enthralled by the moving pictures, the loud sounds, and the developing story, complete with explosions and stunts. The experience of sitting in a darkened room with a bunch of other people, munching snacks and slurping something Hermione had called fizzy drink, had added to his enjoyment.
"Can we go again?" he had asked her immediately after the lights in the theatre had come back on, and Hermione had laughed sweetly and nodded.
Finishing up their meal, Draco stood and extended his hand to Hermione, helping her rise. Pulling her toward him, he captured her lips in a sweet kiss, tasting the remnants of salt. She sighed happily and melted into him, parting her lips to give him better access, and he deepened the kiss. The words she had spoken earlier that night, which had been floating in the back of his head, popped into the forefront of his mind as he felt her press her pelvis into him, grinding against his growing excitement.
Pulling away, she smiled at him and took his hand, leading him toward the stairs leading to his wing. Draco felt his heart rate increase in nervous excitement, hoping that he had correctly interpreted her innuendo.
Reaching the bedroom, Hermione dropped Draco's hand, walking to the centre of the room and turning to face him. Smiling softly, she reached out and unbuttoned his coat, sliding it from his shoulders. Next, her hands went to his tie, loosening it before tugging him toward her and connecting her mouth with his.
Draco's arms slid around Hermione's waist, pulling her flush against his chest as he deepened their kiss. He felt her hands slide down his front, her fingers working nimbly at the buttons of his waistcoat before moving to his shirt. Her warm hands gently pushed the shirt over his arms, allowing it to slide to the floor. She giggled at the sight of his tie against his bare chest, but frowned sadly at the deep and ugly scar running diagonally along the length of his chest.
"I'm so sorry Harry did this to you," she sighed. "Does it still pain you?"
"Sometimes," he admitted, "but you shouldn't be sorry. It wasn't you who cast the spell. And I've long forgiven Potter for it." Lifting her hand to his, he kissed her fingers. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes." She smiled.
Draco kissed her fingers once more in reply, then released her hand so he could undress her. Slowly, achingly, he undid the buttons on her jacket, then her blouse, parting them to reveal a green satin bra tipped with lace which pushed her breasts up invitingly. He marvelled at her creamy skin, lightly dusted with freckles.
Hermione reached for his belt, unbuckling it quickly and pushing his trousers down his ankles, while Draco reached around Hermione's waist, searching for the zipper of her skirt. He found it, but much to his consternation he couldn't seem to get it down. Growing increasingly self conscious, he kept tugging at the contraption but it wouldn't budge.
Giggling, Hermione reached behind her. "There's a hook above the zip," she explained, undoing it.
Finally, the errant zip gave way and Draco released the material, allowing the skirt to flop softly to the floor. She was wearing a delicate pair of panties which matched her bra, clinging lovingly to her hips. Turning her gently, he admired the gentle curve of her arse, positioned below a slim waist.
His hands reached up and released the catch of her bra, allowing it to fall from her small shoulders, and she turned toward him again, now clad only in her panties.
"Good Godric, you're beautiful," he murmured.
Hermione blushed in response, looking down bashfully at the floor. Draco caught her chin in his hand and lifted her face to him so he could gaze upon her. Gently, he moved her back toward the bed until her legs were pressed against the side. Laying her down, Draco planted soft kisses from her jaw, along her neck and down her chest until he reached her breast.
Smirking up at Hermione, Draco took the bud into his mouth, running his tongue along it and nupping gently. He was rewarded by a gasp of pleasure from his witch. He released the nipple with a soft plop and blew, watching in fascination as it hardened in response. Moving his head across, Draco began worshipping the second nipple as he had the first, eliciting more moans and sighs.
Chuckling, Draco abandoned Hermione's breasts, causing her to give a soft whimper of protest that was quickly silenced as he began kissing his way slowly down her abdomen. As he neared her hips, she began to twitch slightly, and he grinned to himself. Changing direction abruptly, he began trailing kisses down the inside of her thigh toward her knee, and then back up the other leg.
"Draco…" Hermione whimpered softly.
"Yes, Hermione?" He hummed.
"Please!" she gasped.
Draco smirked. Now - now he would get his delicious revenge for earlier in the evening, when she had thrown him into turmoil and then played the innocent to perfection.
"Please, what?" he murmured.
"I... I need…"
"Hmmm?" Draco ran his nose softly over her panties, inhaling her scent and causing her to mewl in frustrated pleasure, bucking her hips. He could feel her heat and see her arousal beginning to seep through her knickers.
"Seven hells, Draco!" she finally growled. "Stick your tongue in my pussy, already!"
"Yes, ma'am," Draco murmured.
Slowly, he slid Hermione's knickers down her thighs, taking a moment to savour the sight of her swollen and needy pussy before him. Darting his head forward, he slowly ran the tip of his tongue from her entrance to her clit, tasting her.
"Aahhhhh!" Hermione threw her head back and moaned loudly, grabbing handfuls of Draco's hair and pulling him closer. "More!" she demanded.
Grinning, Draco returned his attentions to her, gently laving her clit with his tounge as he slid one finger, then two, into her soaking pussy.
"Oh gods, yes!" Hermione cried, thrusting her hips up into his face.
Draco curled his fingers until he felt the small bump inside her, making sure to press against it as he thrust his fingers in and out of her at a steady rhythm while his tongue kept up its own tempo.
Hermione began to pant and gasp, and he could feel her walls clenching around him. Knowing she was close, he redoubled his efforts, flicking her clit with increasing speed as his fingers continued to work. Moments later she was coming undone round him, wailing in pleasure as she rode her high.
Finally, her body relaxed, and she sprawled bonelessly on the bed, smiling down at him. Pulling himself up the bed, Draco positioned himself over her, ready to slide into her waiting heat, but instead she flipped him over onto his back and slid down his torso, grinning devilishly at him as she came level with his throbbing cock. Taking it gently in one hand and watching him all the while, Hermione ran her tongue softly around the head, causing a drop of cum to ooze from the top.
"Oh, Morgana!" Draco moaned, as Hermione took his length into her mouth.
He watched her in fascination as she bobbed up and down his cock, never taking her eyes off his. It was so sultry and erotic, he feared he would cum right then, and he desperately tried to shift his thoughts elsewhere. The feeling of her warm mouth sliding up and down his shaft as her tongue swirled around the tip was driving him mad. He had to have her now.
Stretching out his arms, he pulled her gently toward him. Hermione moved back up until she was positioned above his hips. Reaching between her legs, she slowly guided him into her, sighing in pleasure as his cock filled her.
Feeling her tight, wet heat around his cock was pure heaven. Draco groaned as she began to ride him, hoping he would be able to hold on. The sight of her breasts bouncing as as she moved nearly bought him undone. He reached up to cup them, tweaking the nipples and eliciting a low moan from her. Sliding his hand down her abdomen, Draco focused his attentions on Hermione's clit, stroking it gently in time with her thrusts.
"Draco! That's perfect!" she sighed.
Knowing he couldn't last much longer, he increased his speed, and was rewarded by the change in her breathing and her walls clenching around his cock that told him she was close. A minute later, she was coming undone again, crying out and thrusting her hips uncontrollably. Feeling the pressure below his cock building to the point of no return, Draco exploded inside her with a guttural moan.
Spent, Hermione collapsed on top of him, gasping. Draco gently rolled his hips so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Stroking her face, he languidly kissed her, causing her to sigh happily.
"That was… amazing," Hermione murmured, her eyes closed.
"If you can stand to wait half an hour or so, prepare to be amazed a second time." Draco smirked.
"I hope the second performance will meet the standard of the first," she teased him gently.
"I expect to exceed your expectations," Draco retorted, caressing her sides. "But until that time, I intend to drive you mad with lust."
Sliding his hand down to her arse, Draco gently squeezed one cheek before slapping it lightly. "You're a very brazen witch, you know," he said sternly. "Losing yourself in your pleasure like that. And such language out of that pretty mouth." He kissed her roughly, nibbling on her bottom lip and causing her to sigh.
Hermione flushed with embarrassment and looked down at his gentle admonishment. "I've never said—" she bit her lip. "I was raised not to use such language. I don't know what came over me."
Sliding his hand down until he was cupping her just below her knee, Draco pulled her leg over his hip. "I would fully encourage you to use such language more often," he murmured. Reaching between their bodies, he found her clit again, causing her to hum in pleasure and close her eyes.
"Well?" he asked. "What do you have to have to say for yourself?"
"What can I say?" Hermione murmured as Draco's flingers slid slowly, teasingly along her swollen bud. "I like sex. I like to fuck."
"A woman after my own heart," Draco hummed as he watched her face contort under his ministrations.
"Mmmmm," she sighed as she lost the capability for coherent conversation.
Soon, she was coming for the third time that night, and not long after Draco was positioned above her, slowly and deliciously sliding into her once again. This time, their lovemaking was slow and sensuous, gradually building until they were reaching their peak together.
Finally sated, Draco and Hermione fell asleep, their bodies entwined around each other.
The next morning, Draco and Hermione sat companionably together at the bench in the kitchen, enjoying the breakfast feast the elves had put together for them. Under Pria's close supervision, they had put together bacon, eggs, sausages, hash browns and toast, with coffee and tea to wash it down with.
"Good morning, Master Malfoy and Miss Hermie!" Pria announced. "I hope you is both enjoying your breakfasts?"
"Good morning!" Hermione replied. "Yes, thank you Pria. The breakfast is delicious. You and the other elves have really outdone yourselves."
The small elf beamed and bowed low at the compliment. "Thank you, Miss Hermie! Pria will tell the other elves, they will be most happy!" She produced a folded package and handed it to Draco. "The Prophet is arriving, Master Malfoy."
"Thank you, Pria," Draco acknowledged, smiling.
"Is there anything else you is requiring?" Pria asked.
"No, thank you, Pria."
"Very well. Pria will be goings now." With a pop, the elf disappeared.
Draco untied the paper and opened it out, taking a gulp of juice as he ran his eye over the headline. Suddenly, he sprayed his mouthful of juice over the counter in shock, his eyes wide.
"Draco, what is it?" Hermione asked worriedly.
Coughing, Draco turned the paper so she could see it.
Hermione saw what had caused the reaction and growled angrily, snatching up the paper so she could read the article.
The Death Eater and the War Heroine: Strange bedfellows, indeed
By Rita Skeeter
Shock will no doubt reverberate around the wizarding world today as it is revealed one-time death eater Draco Malfoy and war heroine Hermione Granger seem to have formed an alliance.
This correspondent has gained access to a number of photos, taken just last night, of Miss Granger frolicking with Mister Malfoy at a muggle drinking establishment. The two were seen to be very cozy, canoodling throughout most of the night and even sharing an intimate dance as a muggle band played.
It is not known how long Miss Granger has been consorting with such an unsavoury character. Mister Malfoy faced a trial before the Wizengamot immediately after the war, accused of letting known death eaters into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; and being complicit in the murder of Albus Dumbledore, who was at the time the Headmaster of Hogwarts and one of the greatest wizards ever known.
One thing this correspondent does know, dear readers, is this: Miss Granger should surely know better than to be seen spending her time with a man whose family name has so spectacularly fallen from grace. Is she under the control of Mister Malfoy, perhaps influenced by a dark curse; or has she begun to drift away from the light and toward the dark?
Only time will tell.
Accompanying the inflammatory article were several magical photos of herself and Draco inside The Broken Shamrock, dancing, talking with other muggles, smiling and sharing a small kiss.
"Incendio!" Hermione snarled, and the paper burst into flames. "That bitch Skeeter will regret this," she seethed as she brushed soot from her hands and clothes. "I warned her! Clearly, she is in need of a little reminder."
Standing, Hermione stalked toward the door.
"Granger… Hermione! Where are you going?" Draco called after her.
Hermione turned again to face him.
"Who of your friends is the most convincing at deception?" she asked him.
"Deception…?" Draco repeated, confused. "I… suppose that would be Blaise."
"Can I ask him to come over, please?" she asked tightly.
Draco nodded slowly. "What's going on?"
"I'll explain later," she replied. ""Right now, I need to speak with him. I have something to ask of him, and I'll need to borrow your owl."
Hermione walked into Draco's study, looking for Aeneas. He wasn't on his perch, so she opened the window and called for him. After a few moments, he came swooping in from the trees beyond the manor.
"Good morning, Aeneas. You're as handsome as ever, I see." Hermione gently stroked the bird's feathers and gave him a scratch above his beak, and Aeneas closed his eyes and hooted softly.
"That bloody thing likes you more than he likes me," grumbled Draco from the doorway. "You have him eating out of your hand, just like everyone else you meet."
"You're not jealous, you, Malfoy?" Hermione teased, smirking.
Draco sniffed haughtily. "Well, we can't all be the golden girl," he sniped.
"I could brew you a polyjuice potion if you fancy taking on the role of a Gryffindor female, if you'd like?" she offered.
"No, thank you. I rather like the body parts I currently have." Grinning, he made his way over to Hermione and reached out to pat Aeneas.
"Ow! Cursed bird!" Draco glared at his owl and sucked on his hurt fingers, Aeneas having just nipped him sharply.
"Aeneas! That's not polite!" Hermione chided softly, and Draco could have sworn that demon creature actually looked slightly abashed.
"Now," Hermione's tone was suddenly businesslike, "I need to get a message to Blaise Zabini as quickly as possible. Are you up for a delivery?"
Aeneas bobbed his head, and Hermione smiled. "Wonderful. Thank you."
"Can I have quill and parchment, please?" she asked Draco.
Wordlessly, Draco fetched the items she needed while Hermione summoned the jar of owl treats, offering Aeneas a generous handful. Once the implements were in front of her, Hermione picked up the quill and scribbled a quick note in her small but tidy hand.
"Are you ready?" she asked Aeneas when she was finished, and he held out his foot obediently. Hermione tied the letter and with a final soft hoot, Aeneas took off out the window, soaring into the morning sky.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on, now?" Draco asked curiously.
"Nope. Not until Blaise gets here. And then, not until I succeed."
Draco groaned. "You sure do love your mystery."
Hermione snorted. "I also love reminding nosy, lying journalists what happens when they mess with me and the people I care about. You'll find out more soon enough."
Without another word, she walked out of the room, Draco following dazedly behind and wondering what the hell he was getting into.
Well, snap.
*singsong voice* somebody's in trouble...
Hermione (and I!) have plans for a certain scheming blonde journalist. What do you think will happen?
Until next week, lovelies! ;)