A/N. For the Hermione and Draco playlist, I would like to say number one is "Ever After" by Marianas Trench. Which I think is good for this chapter.
Okay! A big moment is happening here! The moment a lot of you have been waiting for… *wink wink*
Let's just say we earn out "M" rating this chapter. Readers sensitive to sexual content should tread lightly.
…~oOo~…
Chapter Ten: In Which It Begins
"You're a right arse!"
That certainly hadn't been the greeting Draco expected from Adam when he walked across the grounds of Mould-on-the-Wold towards the Quidditch pitch. Draco looked up into the boughs of the tree to find Adam sitting on one of them, glaring down at him.
"Pardon me?" Draco said, giving Adam a look that would hopefully make him rethink his words.
"You heard me, you prat," Adam said, picking at a piece of bark on the branch he sat on. He looked properly hacked off. "You ruined everything." He then chucked the bit of bark down at Draco, hitting him in the head.
"Maybe it would help if knew exactly what I've done to merit this treatment?" Draco growled.
"I laced a blueberry pie with a love potion for you," Adam said angrily. "A perfectly good blueberry pie, gone to waste, because I wanted to help you! And it worked, didn't it? She kissed you, you kissed her – happily ever after, right? No! Because you have to go off and marry some blonde bimbo!" He chucked another piece of wood at Draco.
"You get down here," Draco snapped. "Right now."
"No," Adam said indignantly. "You're not my father and you're not my teacher. You don't get to tell me what to do."
"You get down from that tree, Adam, or so help me, I will drag you down myself," Draco threatened darkly. "And it will not be pretty. Do you understand me?"
"Bugger off!" Adam shouted. "No one wants you here! Go back to your cushy office at the Ministry and shag that gold-digger you call a fiancée and have a perfectly happy life away from us, but more importantly, away from Miss Hermione! Chelsea was right about you! You're bad news and I'm sick of looking up to you!"
Growling and feeling the rage just build up inside him, Draco shucked off his pinstripe jacket and threw it to the ground. He went to the trunk of the tree, not stopping to read the engraved initials, and found a good foot hole before beginning to climb.
"You're going to regret making me do this," Draco snarled. "I'll push you out of this tree if I have to."
"Go ahead, it'll only prove you're the bad guy everyone thinks you are," Adam replied, casually pulling himself up to the next higher branch. "And you'll only make Miss Hermione cry more if you do, not that she hasn't been crying enough."
Alright, that stung, Draco had to admit. Right below the belt. "Listen, you stupid little prick, you don't know anything."
"I know Miss Hermione loves you," Adam said, his scowl still in place. "And I thought you loved her, but apparently, you're just a self-serving twat."
Oh, Adam was seriously starting to piss Draco off. "For a thirteen-year-old, you have quite the vocabulary." He was finally on a branch near Adam, but not near enough to just grab the boy and throw him out of the tree.
"For an old man, you're quite stupid," Adam snapped back. "Do you know what's been like these past few days? Not only is the school closing, but Miss Hermione is miserable, Chelsea is miserable because Miss Hermione is miserable, and Margot is even more evil than usual because Chelsea is miserable."
"Hermione is miserable?" Draco said, feigning nonchalance.
"Of course she is!" Adam yelled. "At first, it didn't seem like she thought much of your engagement at all, but then we went to class and her face was all wet and her eyes were red. She hasn't smiled since."
Draco leaned against the trunk of the tree as he perched himself on a large bough, thick enough to hold his weight. If Adam thought his professor was miserable, he had no idea.
"You just don't understand," Draco said, feeling defeated.
"I understand just fine! That's just something adults say when they're scared," Adam said firmly. "You need to marry Greengrass because you can't marry Miss Hermione because of the laws you and Snow passed. I read the paper, you know."
"It's so much more than that," Draco told him solemnly.
"Do you love Miss Hermione?" Adam demanded, looking over at Draco. "Honestly. Just tell me. Help me understand."
Draco sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Of course I do," he eventually confessed. "She's my Lily."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Adam asked, looking confused.
"It… it's unconditional. It will never change. It's a burden, but a burden I'd love to bear."
Adam stared at Draco wordlessly for a while.
"Someday you'll understand," Draco said, looking over at the boy. "You'll find a girl, she'll drive you mad, and forces beyond your control will make it impossible for you to be together. So you'll move on, you'll find someone else that hopefully you won't mind all that much, and you'll marry her because it's the right thing to do."
"Sounds stupid," Adam said petulantly. "If I loved a girl, nothing would keep me from being with her."
"Oh, really?" Draco said, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Even if keeping away would save her life? Even if being apart protected her?"
"I'd protect her," Adam said with conviction. "You know, everyone says you aren't noble and that you're a liar and selfish. But they're wrong. You're too noble and too selfless."
Draco snorted at the irony. "You have no idea."
"Maybe you should try being selfish again," Adam suggested. "For Miss Hermione."
"I still have to marry Astoria, you know that, right?"
"Yes, well, being a little less noble wouldn't hurt either. She doesn't have to know."
"My God, you are the serpent of Eden, aren't you?" Draco said, shaking his head. "A little devil in a tree telling me to eat the goddamned fruit."
Adam shrugged. "We both know how that story ends, so you might as well."
…
Draco knocked on her office door.
"Who – oh, bugger! Oh, just, uh, my goodness… shit! Just a minute!"
Draco felt his eyebrows jump to his hairline. He tentatively opened the door, peeking through to find Hermione stumbling over herself, having spilt coffee all down her blouse. She was stretching across her desk for the tissue box while keeping her blouse wet blouse away from her skin and muttering oaths to herself.
Draco couldn't help but smirk at the scene.
She was, of course, beautiful. Her wild hair had half-fallen out of whatever badly-done knot or braid she'd put it in that day and she wore a white (not coffee-stained) blouse with a black pencil skirt and blat ballet flats. She was dabbing frantically at the front of her shirt, her brow wrinkling slightly in that adorably frustrated way of hers while she kept swearing to herself even though she never swore in public.
He leaned against the doorframe, waiting for her to be done with her tirade.
When she finally looked up to see who was at the door, she looked genuinely surprised but it faded quickly into a neutral expression that he didn't at all like. It was too detached.
"Malfoy," she said. "What are you doing here?"
Draco decided that it was now or never. He could be honest with her or he could keep avoiding the point. Adam had been right in what he said, that adults told children that they didn't understand when really they themselves were just afraid.
"To see you," Draco said. "A lunch and meeting were cancelled, so I had the time. Told my assistant not to expect me back for a few hours."
"Well, everyone needs a break once in a while," Hermione said, going back to her desk and stacking a bunch of papers to the side.
"What happened to your shirt?" he said, even though he had a pretty good idea.
"The knock startled me and I dropped my coffee," she said, not looking up. "You said you had to see me. What is it that you needed?"
"I didn't have to see you," he said slowly. "I just wanted to."
Hermione didn't have a response for that, just continued to organize her desk. "I have tea with Harry in a few minutes. You're more than welcome to join us." She walked to the door, ready to walk past Draco, but he just stepped in front of her. She stared up at him and her lips pressed into a thin line. "Pardon me," she said blandly.
"Yes?" Draco taunted.
"Move aside," she said pointedly.
"You know, I came to see you and you're not being very welcoming."
Hermione huffed quietly and didn't say anything. "Please move," she finally said.
"Talk to me," Draco said, feeling miffed.
"Isn't that what we're doing?" Hermione quipped.
"No, you're just telling me to move aside while I'm trying to talk to you," Draco said. "And you know that. Come on, Hermione, I –"
"Granger," she cut in sharply. "You call me 'Granger'. Not Hermione. Understand?"
"You're the one who wanted to call me by my first name –"
"Oh, please!" Hermione said, all riled up. "I was under the influence of a love potion!"
"A love potion that only made you say and do what you already wanted to say and do," Draco clarified. "Which means, somewhere deep inside, you want to call me Draco."
"Alright, then," Hermione said, standing as tall as she could. She clenched her teeth. "Move aside, Draco."
"I'm sorry," he said abruptly. "I'm sorry about Astoria. I'm sorry about the article. I'm sorry that you found out that way." He wrapped his hands around the top of her arms to hold her still and pull her a little closer. "Does that cover everything? Is there something else I need to apologize for? I'll apologize, I will, just tell me what it will take for you to forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," Hermione told him, looking him right in the eyes. "You haven't done anything wrong. You're only doing what you have to."
"Then why are you angry with me?"
"I'm not angry with you!"
"Then why are you being so cold?" Draco inquired. "So distant?"
"Because that's how it should be!"
"Fuck how it 'should' be," Draco said fervently. "I'm sick of all the expectations and all the responsibilities and everyone telling me how I should live my life. In the end, when I die, all I'll have been is a bloody puppet, and that makes me mad. I'm the one who has to live this life, because I'm quite sure it's my only one. There is nothing after this, only the now. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He shook her lightly, trying to get something from her besides that cold stare.
"No," Hermione said, looking up at him as her resolve started to crumble and he got a glimpse at the deep sadness in her big brown eyes. "I don't understand what you're saying."
"I'm saying I need you," Draco said bluntly. "Because I want to need you and not because someone's telling me I need you. You are the first decision I've made on my own in almost five years."
And Hermione started to cry. She pressed her hands into her eyes and sniffled, but when Draco moved to hold her, to comfort her, she shoved past him and blew down the corridor towards her bedroom. Draco let her run and felt the hot sting of rejection poke at his chest. But it was followed by a rush of determination.
There wouldn't be any running away this time.
He spun on his feels and followed after her, marching towards her bedroom. She tore at his tie which was feeling too tight around his throat and threw it to the ground, practically running now. He got a few strange looks from a few portraits, but ignored them as he saw his goal only so far ahead. Her door was shut and he halted at it, staring at the grains of wood, not sure what he was supposed to do from there. He was breathing too hard. Draco swallowed and decided that he was done knocking on doors.
Draco twisted the knob and shoved it open and then slammed it shut behind him.
Hermione, shocked, glared at him with her coffee-drenched blouse unbuttoned. "Malfoy –"
Cutting her off, he grabbed her by the shoulders and crushed his mouth to hers. She yanked away for only a moment, but he never let his mouth leave hers and she gave in. Hermione's hands snaked up to his hair, threading his fingers through the blonde and holding on tightly. Draco felt the cooled coffee seeping through her shirt to his and making them both sticky. He could care less.
Their kisses slowly became more frantic, deeper, more desperate. Draco could feel the heat crawling up his chest and to his face and felt the blush on her cheeks when he cradled her face in his hands.
"I need you," he whispered roughly against her mouth. I will ruin you and everything you care about, but I need you.
Hermione's hands went to his buttons in a flash and when her hands shook too much to manage the buttoned, she took it by the collar and tore it apart. The buttons went popping everywhere, but after undoing the part of her blouse and throwing it to the floor, he finally – finally – was rewarded with the feel of her skin, her breasts, her stomach pressed to him. The warmth spread so quickly that it almost felt like a small explosion between their bodies. He reached around to undo the clasp on her bra and pulled it away, relishing the absolutely glorious feeling of her small, soft, fragile body against his harder, less forgiving one.
They wrapped around each other like Devil's Snare, never ceasing, ever tightening, almost suffocating. Wrapping his arms around her hips, he lifted her off the ground and brought her to the bed, laying her down gently, cradling her neck as he did. Looking down at her, shirtless with her curls fanned out around her head, she looked like a goddess. She was breathing heavily, her breasts moving with every breath.
Leaning over her, he skimmed his hands down her sides, making her shiver. He settled his hands at her hips and undid the zipper of the skirt. She lifted her hips to let him slowly peel the skirt downward. He wanted to tease her, taunt her, take his time, but at the same time he wanted to be inside her, taking her, making her scream in rapture.
He kissed her stomach, teasingly dipped his tongue into her bellybutton, making her squirm. He wanted to taste all of her so badly. He wanted to keep making her twist and tremble, aching to be touched more. She was so receptive, making a small purring sound like a kitten as he nibbled on her neck and grazed her earlobe with his teeth.
Draco gave a grunt of surprise when suddenly she wrapped her legs around him and used all of her weight against him to roll him onto her back so she was suddenly over him, kissing him with a ferocity that left them both breathless. She was no pillow princess, apparently.
There was a knock on the door.
They both looked to the door, bracing themselves for it to open.
Instead, they heard through the door, "Hermione? You in there?"
"Er, yes, I am," Hermione said, still panting. Draco could feel her rapid heartbeat. She hastily added, "Don't come in!"
"Um…alright?" Harry called, sounding perplexed. "Are you okay? You sound kind of funny."
"I think I'm… I think I'm coming down with something," she called back.
Smirking, Draco couldn't help himself and slid his hand into the back of his panties. He grabbed her deliciously perky bum and pulled her hips to his, grinding his hardness against her core. Her eyes fluttered shut, biting her lip.
"Do you need soup or tea or anything?" Harry called, sounding concerned.
"No! No, no, I'm fine," Hermione yelled back, trying to sound casual and perhaps a little nasally.
"What should I tell the kids about class today?"
"Cancel your classes," Draco whispered in her ear, dragging her panties down off her hips and thighs.
"Er," Hermione said, obviously conflicted. Her duty to the students or what might just end up being the most incredible shag of her life. "Cancel my classes and tell the kids I'm sorry!" she settled on shouting to Harry.
"Alright. You rest up, okay? Feel better!"
They heard his footsteps retreating and Draco pulled her panties the rest of the way off.
"You shouldn't have been doing that," Hermione gasped as Draco's fingers glided up her inner thigh. "Harry was right at the door…"
"I didn't see you trying to stop me," Draco whispered huskily.
Hermione's head dropped to his shoulder as his fingers met her center and she moaned. He took the opportunity to roll her back onto her back and lean back to undo his belt which she readily helped him with. She pushed his trousers down and took his shorts with them. She ran her fingers down his hard stomach and defined chest. He was lean, but firm and wiry, what she'd call a runner's build and wizard boys would call a Seeker's build.
And he was beautiful, each and every piece of him.
She couldn't handle the foreplay any longer. "Draco," she whispered, urging him towards her, squeezing his sides with her thighs. "Please. Please, I need you."
Those were the only words he needed and he adjusted against her, pressing them close. He could feel the heat from her core against his member and, Merlin, he could not wait any longer. But he refused to rush it as he slid into Hermione, letting out a low groan as he did. Hermione gasped at the fullness, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. She whimpered delightfully and lifted her hips to meet his, shifting him even deeper. They both held still for a moment after that, each closing their eyes to relish the feeling of their bodies connected, fitted together like puzzle pieces.
It was Hermione who leant up to slant her mouth across his. He readily responded, biting her lip and making her squeal. He smirked and chuckled and rocked into her.
And Draco lost himself in Hermione's eyes as he made love to her.
…
"Favorite childhood memory?"
"Oh, no," Draco said, shaking his head. "We aren't doing the post-coital sentimental chit-chat. I can't stomach that."
Hermione kicked his shin, but didn't move her head from his chest. She rested atop him, their stomachs pressed together, his arm wrapped around her and his fingers tracing lines up and down her spine. She felt heavy and a sleepy, but wasn't going to sacrifice this time with him. It was almost dinner and he would have to leave soon. He'd stayed too long.
"What do you want to talk about, then?" Hermione inquired.
"Nothing, really."
"Tell me something."
"Fine," he said, giving up relatively easily. "My favorite childhood memory is probably watching Wood get knocked off his broom during that match our First Year."
She flicked him. "Malfoy!"
"Oh, come on! That was hilarious! I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe."
"Something else. Sometime a bit less Slytherin, maybe?"
"Oh, baby, I'm Slytherin through and through, that won't change anytime soon." He paused, but then curiously added, "How about you?"
"Gryffindor, obviously."
He snorted with amusement. "You know what I mean. Childhood memory. Favorite. Go."
Hermione considered this. "I would say the day I got my Hogwarts letter, but that's such a cliché and also, I didn't exactly know what it was right away, honestly. Mostly I was confused. But my true favorite would have to be… my holiday in France with my parents before our Third Year."
"Really? France?"
"It was just so nice to be with my parents after being away at school and getting to see the beautiful city of Paris for the first time," she said with a shrug.
"France isn't that great," he said.
Hermione scowled. "Your favorite memory was watching Oliver fall out of the sky a fifty yards. You don't get to criticize mine."
"Fair enough," Draco said, smiling to himself. "Actually, I might have one I like more."
"If you say it's when you made my teeth grow to my knees, I might actually hurt you," Hermione threatened.
"Well, that was certainly a good one, but I was going to say the Yule Ball," he said.
"You went with Pansy Parkinson."
"And I was miserable. But do you know who was more miserable than me and that made me feel actually pretty great? Weasley and Potter. Weasley, especially. He was so flustered and red-faced over you and Krum, it was very entertaining."
Hermione rolled her eyes. Some things just didn't change. She reached across to her bedside and looked at the watch she kept there. "It's almost supper. Should you be going?"
"Are you kicking me out?"
"No," Hermione chuckled, sitting up and rolling off of him. "But you probably have to see Astoria."
Sneering, Draco said, "Must you?"
"Must I what?" Hermione asked, standing and going to her drawers.
Draco watched her closely, his eyes following the slender curve of her back and her thighs and her deliciously perky bum which was sporting bite marks from his own teeth. Call him a Neanderthal, but there was a strange sense of pride seeing little marks like love bites on the woman you loved. Call it a mark of ownership, whatever, he was beyond trying to be delicate about such things – he liked there being physical evidence that she was his and his alone.
"You know, kill my mood by bringing up her," Draco said pointedly.
"You mean your fiancée?" Hermione said, pulling a t-shirt over her head.
"Yes, exactly like that," he said with a groan. "Is this going to become a regular thing?"
"My bringing up the fact that you're betrothed? No, not at all," she said sarcastically while slipping on her panties. When she looked over and saw his glare, she sighed and crawled back onto the bed to press a kiss to his slightly-pouting mouth. "I'm sorry," she amended. "I'm not used to this… being the 'other woman'. It goes against everything in my moral code, but I'm just tired of feeling like I have been. All the building pressure, the tension, the crying…"
"I'll agree with you there," Draco said, nodding. "You're hideous when you cry."
Hermione gave him a look. "Can you pretend you like me just a little bit, please?"
Chuckling and breaking into a smile, he took her by the back of her neck to draw her into a deep kiss. He thought to himself, There's no need for pretending, you beautiful girl.
…~oOo~…
~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~