{ Chapter Seventeen }
Once Theo and Cho had left, along with their uninvited guests, Draco and Hermione sat down with warm cups of tea and stared into the fire. Both of them had so much on their minds. In the three weeks since they had returned home from St. Mungo's, there had been two more murders. Draco had been working the cases along with Harry, while Hermione had been at home or at her appointments with Healer Brunswick. They hadn't had much time to talk, and as he sat there by her side watching her twirl his wand around her fingers, he realized that he hadn't seen her wand recently.
When they had woken up and heard intruders he had asked her where her wand was and she said she didn't know. How could that be possible? He tried to think back to the last time he had seen her with it and he couldn't remember.
"Where is your wand?" he asked her again. She was startled out of her thoughts and jumped slightly in her seat.
"What?" Her eyes widened as she looked down at the wand in her hand and seemed to realize that she was holding his wand rather than her own.
"Your wand. I don't remember seeing it lately. Where is it?"
She swallowed thickly. Surely he knew where her wand was better than she did.
"Healer Brunswick won't let me have it back yet. She says I'm repressing or something and I'm a danger to myself and others until I regain control of my magic and deal with everything that happened with...well, you know." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "You saw me tonight. Did I seem to you to be out of control and a danger to others? I don't think so."
He considered her words carefully, and had to admit she was right. She had been brilliant, and completely in control. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer so she could lean her head against his chest.
"I'll see what I can do. There's no reason why you shouldn't be allowed to have your wand." Idly he wondered why she hadn't told him about this weeks ago, but he supposed she had her reasons.
The following morning he paid Healer Brunswick a visit. Needless to say, he didn't like the things she had to say. In his opinion Hermione was doing fine. In her opinion Hermione hadn't even started to heal yet. In the end, though, she had reluctantly agreed to give Hermione's wand back, but she warned him to keep an eye on her.
"She's basically an emotional time-bomb. We have no way of knowing what her trigger will be, but at some point she's going to have to face these demons she has locked away in that brilliant mind of hers."
That statement hadn't exactly put his mind at ease. Not at all.
The next several weeks were a buzz of activity around the MLE offices. After the four suspects had been brought to the Ministry and formally charged word was 'leaked' to the Daily Prophet and by morning the entire wizarding population knew that Draco and Hermione Malfoy had been attacked in their home. And they knew the wizards responsible for the attack were Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Daphne Greengrass and Gregory Goyle.
The office was immediately swamped with anonymous tips and allegations of other crimes these four might have committed. The office was so swamped, in fact, that they had to hire someone just to catalog these references. Hermione was absolutely perfect for the job and jumped at it as soon as the Minister suggested it to her. She needed contact with the living world, and she needed a task to do to keep her hands and her mind occupied. Within three days she had streamlined their entire operation and cut the amount of paperwork that each agent had to fill out by half.
Two weeks after the attack they had enough solid evidence to charge all four of the suspects with so many crimes that none of them would see the outside of Azkaban prison for the rest of their lives. Still, Draco felt as though they were missing something. Something big. He just couldn't place his finger on it.
Draco and Harry had been out most of the day investigating another lead. This one indicated that a fifth wizard, Marcus Flint, had been seen socializing with all four of the accused within the last few months. They're job was to see if there was any evidence linking Flint to their activities. After several hours of finding absolutely nothing against Flint, they decided to call it a night and made their way back to the Ministry. Neither of them was surprised to see Hermione still in the office, despite the fact that work had ended several hours prior.
"Hey guys." She looked up from the file she was reading and gave them each a tight smile. Draco didn't know her quite well enough yet to read that smile, but Harry did. Harry knew every single expression that she wore, and exactly what they meant.
"No." Harry didn't bother to ask her any questions. Because he knew that look. And he knew that tone of voice. The one where she tries to keep her voice calm, her face impassive, so other people couldn't read her. It worked on most people, but not on him. She had some kind of crazy scheme in that over-active brain of hers. One that was probably dangerous and brilliant at the same time. It was always a bad combination that usually ended up putting her in harm's way.
Draco glanced back and forth between the two former best friends; sure that he had missed something. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she sat back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. Then she raised her eyebrow and stared at Potter, like she was waiting on something from him. Though Draco was tempted to say something snarky to try to figure out what the staring contest was all about, he opted to just wait it out instead. The last thing he wanted to do was piss Hermione off again. It didn't turn out to well the last time.
After a long, tense moment, Potter relented first. He sighed heavily before running both hands over his face and through his thick black hair. Then he leaned back against a desk and sighed again.
"Well go on then. Out with it." He crossed his arms in frustration at the stubborn witch and waited.
Draco was watching intently, not surprised at all that Potter had given in first for this impromptu battle of wills. He didn't miss that small smirk of triumph that graced Hermione's lips. He also didn't miss the weary sigh that followed as she uncrossed her arms and picked up a piece of parchment. She turned it over in her hands a few times, looking at the parchment rather than at either Draco or Harry.
"Does someone want to fill me in here?" Draco was already bored with the exchange. He just wanted to go home, eat something, take a shower and fall into a deep sleep. Two weeks of fifteen to twenty hour days was starting to get to him.
"Hermione has that look in her eye." Harry straightened and took a step closer to the desk where she was sitting. "She wants to do something that she knows we won't like, most likely something dangerous, and she's prepared to defend the reasons why she has to do it."
"Really Harry, have you always been this melodramatic?" She pushed back in her chair and stood up. She didn't like that he was standing over her, looking down on her. "It's not necessarily something I want to do. It's something that needs to be done. And it's not dangerous, it's just...personal."
Personal.
Draco, not for the first time, felt like an intruder in the conversation. Whatever Hermione needed, she obviously didn't want to discuss it in front of both of them. He swallowed thickly as he realized that she didn't want him there. She hadn't looked at him once since they had walked in the office. No, she wanted to talk to Potter, and he had a pretty good idea what this 'personal' issue was that she wanted to discuss.
He didn't want to say that their relationship had been strained in the last two weeks. It was more like it was completely nonexistent. They lived under the same roof and they slept in the same bed, although usually not at the same time. He was working all hours of the day and night trying to wrap up this case. She was working at the Ministry and seeing Healer Brunswick every day in an effort to control her magic. They had barely had time to speak to each other outside the occasional passing, much less anything else.
He felt anger bubbling up inside of him, but he tapped it down quickly. It wouldn't do to lose his cool now. Even so, he let some of his irritation show through as he stomped over to his desk to drop his notes in the drawer and grab his good cloak.
"Draco? What are you doing?" Hermione watched him from across the room with sad, almost scared eyes. His gaze locked on hers, and the emotion he saw in there almost melted away his anger. Something was bothering her terribly.
But she didn't want to speak to him about it. She wanted to speak to Potter.
"I'm dead tired. I'm going home and going to bed." In four long strides he was passing her desk and heading for the door. He could see the surprise on her face. Hell, she almost looked heartbroken. It almost made him pause as he walked by her. He didn't trust himself, though. He was sleep deprived, hungry, and all around in a bad mood to begin with, throw this irrational anger that he was feeling on top of it all and he was worried he would say or do something he might regret. Like hex his partner, Potter, for talking to his wife about her 'personal' problems.
"Seriously? But I really needed to..." The door closed behind him. She stood there, staring at the door for a moment before she finished in a much quieter voice "...talk to you."
Draco had heard her, just barely. She had wanted to talk to him, and he had just walked away from her. He banged his head against the stone wall once before turning back around and preparing to walk back into the office. He had his hand on the door handle when he heard her talking to Potter again.
"This is all your fault, you know." He couldn't see her through the door, but he could imagine her standing with one hip jutted out to the side, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed and glaring at Potter.
"What did I do?"
"You scared him off! I've been trying to find time to talk to him for days. Days, Harry! Ugh!" He vaguely remembered her saying something about needing to talk to him at breakfast yesterday. Or was it the day before? Fuck. He couldn't remember.
"What's so important, then 'Mione? Maybe it's something I can help you with."
"I said its personal, Harry! That was supposed to be your hint to clear out so I could talk to my husband." She sat down heavily in her chair and put her head in her hands. Maybe she could wake him up when she got home. Or if she hurried she might be able to catch him before he fell asleep at all. She reached for her bag and her cloak.
"Oh Merlin, Hermione. Are you pregnant?"
Draco's eyes snapped open and he felt his heart skip a beat. Surely she wasn't. They'd only been together a few times. He tried to remember if they had used a contraceptive charm. His mind was drawing a blank. He involuntarily held his breath as he waited for her to answer Potter's intrusive question.
"I seriously doubt it, Harry." Her voice was strained as the unexpected question hit her a little harder than she would have thought it should. She wasn't pregnant. She was positive of that.
Draco heard the strain in her voice. Though he didn't know what it meant, he knew it was time to stop eavesdropping and figure out what the hell was so important she had been waiting for him hours after her shift was over. And maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to stand there any longer because he just might have to acknowledge that the twinge he felt when she denied the allegation felt something like disappointment.
He pushed the door open and stepped in the office. His eyes immediately locked on Hermione's. Her big brown orbs filled with something like relief when she looked at him and her lips tilted up in a small smile. In his mind he imagined what she would look like, pregnant with his child. His heart skipped a beat.
He had been so busy the last two weeks that he hadn't spent any time with her at all. In fact, this was probably the first time they had even really looked at each other in weeks. He heard Potter mutter something about going home before he brushed past and disappeared out the door. Draco wasn't paying attention, though. He was transfixed by the woman in front of him.
The atmosphere in the office had changed as soon as their eyes locked together. Sexual tension radiated between them. In that moment, he wanted her. In that moment, she wanted him. Everything else, the job, the case, the parchment, it all just disappeared.
"I thought you went home." Her voice wavered slightly. She took two small steps in his direction.
"I was going to, but I realized I forgot something." He took two larger steps, bringing him close enough that he could reach out and touch her.
"What did you forget?" She was almost smiling now as she took another step closer and placed her hands on his chest. His hands wrapped around her waist and she nearly moaned at that contact. He hadn't touched her, really touched her since the night of the attack.
Energy simmered through his body, starting at his fingertips and spreading up his arms and into his chest as he pulled her closer. He didn't answer her question. He was too lost in her eyes and in the sensations of holding her again to formulate a thought. One second he was gazing down at her, and the next he was devouring her. His lips met hers hungrily and she returned the kiss with fervor.
His lips moved against hers with increasing intensity. Merlin, how he had missed tasting her like this! When was the last time they had kissed? A small peck here and there in passing didn't really count. Not in his mind anyway.
He found himself wanting to do much more than just kiss her. By the way she moaned as his hand slipped under her shirt to caress her breast, he knew that she wouldn't object. But this was his wife, not some cheap floozy. He could wait until they got home to fuck her senseless.
Begrudgingly he removed his hand from under heir shirt and slowed the kiss down. He pulled away slowly and leaned his forehead against hers as they both tried to catch their breath.
"Are you ready to go home?" His voice was filled with lust. She shivered at the promise that was hidden in those words. The promise of continuing what they had started once they got there.
She nodded in agreement and turned to collect her belongings. As she did, she noticed the piece of parchment that she had been holding earlier.
"Fuck. I'm sorry, Draco, but there really is something I need to talk to you about."
"Later," he growled. "It can wait until later." His hand circled her wrist and tugged her gently towards the door. She followed along hesitantly, knowing that it really couldn't wait much longer. Her mind was fighting a losing battle, though. The desire that he had awoken coursed through her body. The heat filled her, pulsating with a need she had never felt before.
So she didn't fight him as they walked down the hallway towards the lifts, but as her mind began to clear she realized that she really did need to tell him what was on her mind. The lift doors opened immediately and they stepped inside. She was just about to tell him that what she needed to talk to him about really was important. All rational thought left her, though, as he pushed her against the wall and kissed her again.
He was right. It could wait.
When the lift door opened, Hermione pushed him away, breaking the heated kiss before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the floo. He growled at the disruption but reminded himself that he could wait until they got home.
Home. Their house. Because this beautiful, vivacious, sexy woman was all his. And it seemed she was in just as much a hurry to get home as he was.
They stepped through the floo into the study. He cleaned the dust off of them with a flick of his wand, closed the floo down for the night with another flick, and then pulled Hermione in for another searing kiss. His hands explored her body while her fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt. It seemed they both wanted to do this at home, but it didn't matter to either one of them where exactly they were at home. The bedroom just seemed like it was much too far away.
Piece by piece their clothing was discarded. Most of it landed on the floor. Hermione's silk blouse. Draco's trousers. Her bra was tossed to the side and somehow landed on the credenza.
His lips trailed down her neck leaving wet kisses from her ear to her breast. His hands trailed down her bare back to ass, just barely caressing her skin and sending waves of heat throughout her body. She moaned and arched her back as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. His hands curled around her legs and lifted her easily onto his desk before his fingers delved into her wet heat.
He moaned deeply when he found how wet and ready she was for him. His lips returned to her mouth, one hand tangled in her dark curls and held her closer, the other hand pressing in and out of her heat steadily. She writhed against his hand, wanting more. Needing more.
He wanted to take his time with her, to go down on her and worship her body with his tongue. For now, though, he just needed to be inside her. He pulled her to the edge of the desk and pushed her gently so she was lying on her back. Then he lifted one leg up over his shoulder and pushed inside of her in one quick motion.
She gasped out loud at the sudden intrusion then moaned loudly as the sensations filled her up. He pulled out and pushed back in again. And again. And again.
Sounds of sex filled the study and echoed through the empty halls of the house. Skin slapping together. Feminine moans of pleasure. Male grunts of exertion. His name,"Draco" screamed in ecstasy as she came. Various expletives right before he came, followed by a breathy "fucking hell, Hermione" as he fought the impulse to collapse on top of her.
As their breathing slowed down and the haze of lust began to dissipate, Draco came to a stark realization.
"You know, I'll never be able to work at this desk again without picturing you like this." He lifted her up so she was again sitting on the edge of his desk.
"Like what?" She trailed her arms up his bare chest to rest on his shoulders, her hands playing with the fine hairs at the base of his neck.
"Naked and beautiful and thoroughly fucked." He smirked down at her briefly before bending and kissing her once more, slowly, gently. Reluctantly he ended the kiss and stepped away from the desk. He slipped his trousers back on and turned to see Hermione buttoning up his shirt. It looked better on her anyway.
"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." She didn't bother putting on the rest of her clothes before she headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. He watched her go and honestly debated if he would rather eat or just go to bed. Their recent activity had only increased his exhaustion. Not that he was complaining or anything.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, so he followed her to the kitchen. She was warming up some roast and potatoes when he walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist. She melted into his touch, leaning into his chest. His hands spread across her stomach as he held her and he was reminded of her earlier conversation with Potter.
He realized with a small thrill that they had once again had sex without using a contraceptive spell. The thought didn't scare him. It did, in fact, excite him.
Hermione pulled away from him when the food was ready so she could prepare the plates and set them on the small kitchen table. They sat down to eat in silence, both having things on their minds and not sure how to broach the topic.
"There really is something I need to talk to you about, Draco. Before you go to sleep tonight."
He looked up from his potatoes to see that she was nervous again.
"Talk. I'm listening."
She nodded her head once and continued to pick at the food on her plate. He waited patiently for her to say whatever it was that was on her mind.
"Sara has someone that wants to look at my old house. I took a lot of things with me when I left, but there is still a lot of stuff in the house that needs to be packed up and cleaned. I, um...the thing is that I really don't want to go alone. I know how busy you've been with the case and everything and its horrible timing. If you can't go, I understand and I'll do it myself, but, well, you know."
He knew. She wanted him to be there with her. That house held nothing but bad memories for her, but she needed to go clean it out.
"When?" He knew that it didn't matter. He would be there for her.
"She wants to show it on Saturday." She bit her lip and waited for his reaction. It really had been important that she talk to him days ago. She had told him that, right?
"Hermione, today is Thursday." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. As if he didn't have enough on his plate, now he had thirty six hours to clean out an entire house. "I guess we're not going to work tomorrow. I'll owl the Minister and Potter so they know not to expect us."
Relief flared through her eyes. She really didn't want to face that house alone. It held bad memories, that was true, but there was something else. A sense of foreboding that washed through her every time she thought of going back there.
She shook off the feeling when she took her shower and crawled into bed next to Draco.
When he kissed her, she forgot she had even had the bad feeling at all.
When he made love to her she forgot everything but him and the way her body responded to him, so naturally.
So perfect.
And when she fell asleep against his chest she felt like she was finally home.