I seem to be having loads of ideas for this story… I can't stop writing about it. Anyway, enjoy!

Want

Running through the garden, legs pumping my eyes were focused on the warm lights of the cottage that spilled across the night. I flew through the grass paths that webbed between the flowerbeds, wishing I were already there.

I slammed against the wooden door and hammered on the bright red paintwork, willing for her to answer.

She opened it, wearing a verdant green dress that made her skin glow. Her curly hair cascaded around her face in messy coils, completely untameable. Just like her. "Draco? Is that yo-"

She didn't get very far as I cupped her neck and pulled her to me, silencing her with my lips. I pushed her backwards, pushing her back against the wall under the steps. Her scent of wild strawberries and violets filled my nostrils, pulling me in. My hands slid down her form and back up again, growling appreciatively at her curves. How could something that should be repulsive, feel so fucking good…and right.

Her fingers reached up and ripped the mask away from my face. "Wh-what are you doing?" she had torn her lips away from mine long enough to gasp out the question.

"Kissing you," I murmured, smirking into the kiss, "touching you. Wanting you." My hand sneaked up her dress and traced the lining of her knickers, so close to her heat.

She moaned, tangling her fingers into my hair, pressing her breasts against me.

I grinned, and whispered into her mouth, "cocktease."

"Fucking deserve it," she retorted, running her hands down my chest, "Wanker."

"Careful," I warned her, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her up, so her legs wrapped around my waist obediently. Her intense heat rested on my jutting erection. I growled, walking with a clumsy speed up the stairs, "I'm not going to be nice."

"Oh, I'm scared," she whispered before biting on my ear lobe, "What is this big, dark, wizard going to do to me?"

"Everything," I said, grinning at those stormy hazel eyes of hers, "and more."

She grinned and captured my lips again, nibbling on my bottom lip, "You better. I'll do the same in return."

Her promise made my cock twitch and she giggled. I when I got to her bedroom, I threw her on the bed, watching her support herself on her elbows. I stood a foot away from her, admiring the way her chest heaved, her skin flushed, her tousled curls falling around her shoulders. She cocked her eyebrow and crooked her finger, giving me a 'come hither' look. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

I grinned again and descended on her, trapping her in a cage of my arms. She reached up and hastily unbuttoned my robes until they fell away. She made quick work of my shirt, kissing the exposed skin, down my chest and across my abdomen.

With a surge of wandless magic, the dress disappeared, revealing a set of lilac lace bra and knickers. "Beautiful," I murmured, "mine."

"Possessive much?" she said against my skin, continuing to make an agonising trail to the place I wanted her mouth most.

"Don't like?" I asked her, revelling in the way her lips teased my skin. I felt her hands on my slacks as she unbuttoned them, pushing them down my thighs.

"No…I fucking love it," she said, licking her lips when she saw the bulge in my black boxers, "Can I… can I have a taste?"

My hands fisted in the duvet linen around her head and I nodded, not trusting my voice. She grinned in satisfaction and shifted downwards so her face was level with my engorged arousal. Her long fingers pulled down the material, my cock springing free, proudly jutting out. "Oh God," she whispered, licking her lips one more time before coming closer, her hot breath brushing my skin…

I jolted upwards, the dream tearing away from my eyes. Sweat sheened my body, covers tangled around my legs, my arousal painfully hard. I rolled over and roared into the pillow, frustration burning through my veins.

Why? Why did those dreams haunt me? Well it was that or the nightmares. And I'd take Lucy in lingerie any day. Ever since that kiss two weeks ago, it was all my dreams were filled of. Fantasies of her, that were never truly complete, stopping at what I wanted, leaving me with a raging hard on and the memory of wild strawberries and violets.

Usually, if I wanted a woman I would get her and fuck her. But Lucy was different. She was strictly off limits. I couldn't just fuck a woman I kept hidden in my house. And she was more than just some woman. She was my friend. One of the few. I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't.

But that didn't mean I wanted her any less. I wanted her skin, her smell, her touch, her smile, her lips. I wanted her. I wanted her. And I'm not used to not getting what I wanted.

Because of this want, I had hardly visited her. Being so close to her and unable to touch her was torture. That and I felt awkward being around her after what happened last time. Our friendship was on tenuous ground. She would try and make conversation with me as before, but as I watched her lips move, I imagined what they felt like against mine own…and what they might feel like on other parts of my body.

Groaning loudly, I rolled out of bed and headed towards the drinks cabinet, pouring myself a drink from the pitcher of firewhiskey. I went to the window, staring out over the wasteland camp. That instantly made my dick limp; as I watched guards shuffle across the muddy ground, snow falling thick and hard. I avoided going to the camp. I handled the logistics of it all inside my office, looking out over the camp. Only when there was guard inspection, did I visit.

Whenever I did, I would see the rows of skeletal people, faces drawn and leeched of colour. Part of me would feel disgusted. They were little more than animals, slowly losing all that made them human. Another part of me pitied them. I would find myself looking for Lucy's family, her mother or her father or her brother. I knew her two little brothers would be dead. All who were too old or too young to work were sent to be culled. I hadn't had the heart to tell her. But it was hard to look for specific people. They were all bald, all starving, all dressed in overalls of black and white, all pale and broken. It was starting to be difficult to tell the difference between male and female. The only difference, were the tattoos on their arms. Their prison number and their label. MB for mudblood, BT for blood traitor, M for muggle.

I would pace in front of them, Deatheater robes billowing around me. They would tremble and cower whenever I swept past. The visits always made me feel sick afterwards.

I watched the snow fall, swilling the amber liquid in my tumbler, lost in my thoughts for a while. It was late winter now, so it was still dark when at seven, I called a house elf to prepare me breakfast. I threw on the black dressrobes, threading the calla lily through one of the buttonholes. For today was my wedding day.

I knew that in the grand salon downstairs, house elves were lining chairs, setting up the altar, decorating the place with white and red flowers and reams of silk. I combed back my hair, poured myself another drink and tossed it back, grimacing as the liquid burned down my throat.

Pansy Parkinson. Pansy fucking Parkinson. Gods kill me now. Last day of freedom, before I'm shackled to that cow. There was a knock at my door and I called, "Come in."

Blaise, my best man, pushed into my room, wearing dressrobes in dark green. "Knew you'd be up. Thought I'd talk you out of killing yourself," he picked up another tumbler, pouring himself a drink.

I laughed hollowly, "damn, another hour and I'd be hanging from the ceiling."

He snorted, refilling my glass, "Just as well then." He gave me back my glass, "remember, all you have to do is pump out an heir and you never have to talk to her again."

"Cheers to that," I said, clinking my glass against his, "To blindfolds."

Blaise chuckled again, "To blindfolds."

Our glasses chinked and we brought them to our lips, knocking them back. "So tell me," he said, putting down his glass, "Your muggle going to be a bridesmaid or a flower girl?"

My wand was out before he could finish the sentence, inches from his nose. "You keep your mouth shut," I snarled, "You talk about that in front of the others, I will lynch you."

He held up his hands, smirking widely, "No need for the dramatics. I was just playing."

"Well keep it that way," I growled, pocketing the wand, "No need for me to disappear on my wedding day."

"Well which is better? Marrying Pansy Parkinson or getting tortured and killed by your comrades," Blaise asked, as a house elf brought in golden slices of toast, a jewel red jam and sunshine orange juice.

"You're making me feel amazingly better, you know," I said drily.

"Its called black humour," Blaise said, "you're British, you should understand it more than me."

I shook my head, grinning widely, "Indeed. But you're Italian. You should be telling me that marriage is irrelevant."

Grinning wolfishly, "indeed it is, my friend. Completely irrelevant."

I laughed again, the knots in my stomach becoming slightly looser. Only slightly though.

The morning passed in a blur. Seeing things through, welcoming extensive family members, trying not to run for the hills. My thoughts would sometimes stray to Lucy: what was she doing right now? Did she wonder what was going outside her four walls? As customary, I was left in a room on my own. I suddenly had this burning desire to see her. One last time before…everything.

Feigning a need to get fresh air, I sneaked out to the garden, snow falling thickly on my shoulders. I treaded through the thick forest again, reaching the familiar wall. A few moments later, I was in the Sanctuary. They'd completed work on the garden now. Though it had been futile, the ground now covered with thick snow. I hurried towards the red door, the only vivid thing in a world of white.

I opened the door, calling out, "Lucy?" The cottage was freezing, my breath coming out in clouds.

"I'mmm inn h-here," came a stuttering voice from the living room. I treaded towards it, finding Lucy curled up on the sofa, pink beanie on her head, wrapped up in several blankets, her hands wearing fingerless gloves as her fingers curled around a mug of tea, a flickering fire in the grate. She was shivering and shuddering though, cheeks pale with cold. She looked up at me and said, "I'm-m-m c-c-c-cold. Gr-gremlin's w-w-working at the m-manor t-today. Ap-p-parently, y-y-you're g-getting married."

I tugged on my hair, trying not to think of ways to get Lucy warm. Mind out of the gutter, man! "Indeed I am," I said, coming around to sit on the couch next to her.

"Y-you c-c-could ha-have t-t-told mmme," she said irritably, "I-I w-would ha-ha-have got youuu a p-pr-present."

Watching her trying to form sentences was painfully slow. I could have easily cast a warming charm or made the fire bigger, but that would be no fun. The way her body was twitching and how her lips were turning blue made me open up my arms and say, "Come over here. Can't have you dying of hypothermia."

She was by my side in an instant, placing the mug of tea on the side and pressing her icy fingers against my neck, sighing in relief. I yelped, "Merlin woman! Gentle!"

"B-baby," she stammered out, pressing her socked toes against my thighs, "T-told you I-I was c-c-c-cold."

I chuckled, unbuttoning my shirt a little further so more of my skin was exposed. She placed her cheek against my chest, ear pressed on top of my heart, "H-how are things?" she said, her shivers beginning to smooth out.

"The house elves have it," I said, resisting the urge to stroke her hair. "Moppy should be with you."

"I told her to go," she said, snuggling deeper into my side, "she deserves to be with her friends for a while. Otherwise we were going to get sick of each other."

"She left you to freeze," I said annoyance colouring my words, "When she comes back I'll-"

"Don't punish her," Lucy pleaded, lifting her head to glance at me, "She's been so good to me. She deserves some time outside. And for a wedding." She rested her head against my heart again, her fingers crawling deeper under my shirt. Breathe, Draco, breathe, "Is it still to…Petunia? Lily? It was a flower."

"Pansy," I replied, " and yes, it's still to her."

"Do you love her yet?" she asked.

"No," I said bluntly.

"Will you love her?"

"No."

"…I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Not your fault," I said, breathing in wild strawberries and violets, "Way things are."

"Hmm…what's so terrible about her…other than the fact she is ugly."

I took a deep breath, "She's clingy, obsessive, petty, gossipy, shallow, gullible, stupid and her voice is too high."

"Is that all?" she jokingly said, but it didn't sound like she found it funny.

"There is more, but I would be here for the whole day," absentmindedly my hand fingered a mahogany curl, twisting it around my finger.

"I wish I could give you advice, but I have nothing," she squeezed my hand, "Is that why things have been so awkward between us?" She shifted upwards, her face turned towards me

I stiffened, dropping her lock of hair, "What do you mean?"

"Ever since…you know what," she said, her face flushing, "You've been acting really weird."

My gut twisted and I stood up abruptly, "I have to go."

"No, Draco, please! Don't shy away from something you're afraid of. You always do that," she got up to follow me, the blankets dropping around her feet. I don't know why I found her only wearing those baggy muggle cotton trousers and t-shirt with the letters AC/DC on the front, a turn on. But they certainly were. Especially since I could see she wasn't wearing a bra. Not helping.

"Just…shit is complicated enough as it is," I pulled out my pocket watch to check the time, "I'm getting married in half an hour. You're a muggle in my home. I just- fuck!"

I tugged on my hair and growled frustratedly, "I don't have time for this." I grabbed the door handle and wrenched it open, storming out into the snow.

I ran through the snow, flakes cutting into my cheeks as I ran. "Draco! Draco, come back!" I heard Lucy holler into the speeding wind. I ignored her cries and was quickly out of the Sanctuary and back in the stuffy room that was my prison. I dried the hem of my robes and removed the melting flakes, before sitting down and hanging my head in my hands.

"I am so fucked," I whispered to myself, hands fisting in my hair.

Fists banged on the door, Blaise's voice calling, "Draco! Time's up buddy. Get your arse up."

I jolted out of my seat; dread taking a firm hold of me again, "alright. Be out in a minute."

I smoothed back my hair, straightened my cravat and opened the door, putting on a smile for my best man. "There you are. Worried you were running away."

A dry smile, "You caught me again."

He slapped me on the back, "C'mon man, chin up, shoulders back, poker face. Going down should be done in a dignified manner."

I gave him a grim smile and nodded in ascent. "I'm ready."

After that it was all just a blur. One moment I was standing up as the bride entered, looking like an overstuffed white pastry, next I was saying the vows, I slipped the cold ring onto her cold hand, avoiding her gaze. Again the reception was a blur, drink after drink poured down my throat, speeches and toasts and dances and greetings and more toasts. Aunt Bella drank herself to the point of randomly cursing anyone within a 5-metre radius of her. Father never really left my side loudly shouting in my ear about how proud he was and whenever Pansy and I made contact, we were stiff, cold towards each other.

I don't know what time we were closeted into my –no, sorry– our bedroom. Pansy, having changed into a cream dress, long black hair falling in sheets around her face, stood stiffly in front of me, her eyes fixed on me. For the marriage contract to become valid, we had to consummate it. In mechanical movements, I discarded my robes, leaving them in a crumpled on the floor. Suddenly, her hand reached up and pinched at something on the shoulder of my shirt. It was a hair. Long, curly and brown, it glinted in the candlelight red and gold.

My stomach plummeted but I kept my poker face. My mind was already going through a plan to get Lucy out of here and follow her to wherever she would be going. Pansy was going to figure out who this came from, that I was hiding a muggle in our house.

"You have a lover?" the question was so quiet, only her hand quivering showing her emotion.

Relief washed through me and I nodded, trying not to look too eager.

She breathed heavily for a moment, closing her eyes before opening them, "I don't want her in the house. That includes any children she might give birth to. You will not expose our children to her either. And you cannot be seen in public with her. Other than that, you can do whatever you want with her." She glared at me, giving me a 'don't you dare fight me.'

I nodded and with quick movements removed my shirt. I told her, "Remove your clothes."

*D*L*

Laying next to her, staring up at the ceiling, I waited for her breathing to slow. All I could see was Lucy. Smiling, laughing, crying, thinking, arguing, listening…

I had tried to replace Pansy's overstated perfume with wild strawberries, imagined it was brown curls I was running my hands through, her skin I was touching.

It worked…to a point. It was done now. The marriage was valid. That thought made my stomach feel heavy.

If things were…right. If things were normal, I would have continued going to that café. I would have gotten to know her, bit by bit, until I would have told her what I was. Then, when she had gotten over her shock, I would have taken her out, despite what my parents have preached to me since as long as I could remember. I would have been proud to have such a girl on my arm. I would have fallen in love with her. I would have married her. She would be lying next to me, right now. My hands fisted around the sheets and I closed my eyes. When Pansy had mentioned earlier, about a lover of mine being pregnant, a vivid image of Lucy with a swollen stomach, a glowing smile on her lips, had bloomed across my vision. She looked beautiful.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I can't take it anymore.

I was up and out of bed, regardless of whether Pansy was asleep.

"Draco? What are you doing?" she sleepily asked.

I didn't answer her, pulling on my discarded robes, stuffing my feet into leather boots, "Come back to bed."

Opening the door, I said brusquely, "no."

I was gone, down the stairs, through the debris of the party that was slowly being cleaned up.

I pushed through the French doors that led to the garden. The snow had stopped, leaving a blanket of white all around. It muffled all sound, softening the sounds of my footfalls. I made it to the Sanctuary wall. A few wand taps later, I was through and running towards the little cottage. I let myself in and called out into the dark cottage, "Lucy! Lucy!"

There was a thump and a groan from up the stairs. The floorboards creaked and Lucy was thumping her way down the stairs swearing under her breath, "I swear to God Draco, if you are fucking drunk again I will make you rue the day you were born. What the fuck is so important to wake me up at 4 o'clock in the goddamn morning?"

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms wrapped around her slim frame. She glared at me irritably, hair fuzzy around her head.

I stalked towards her, pushing her back against the wall next to the stairs, pressing my mouth against hers. I put her whole body in the cage of my arms and legs, not allowing her to escape

She turned her head away from me, avoiding my lips, "Oh no Malfoy, you are not doing this to me. You are not!"

She ducked under my arms and stormed away to the kitchen, "You fucking arsehole! You up and leave me in the morning, pissed at me, and then you wake me up in the bloody morning to come on to me like nothing's happened. Don't you dare do that to me!"

She angrily opened one of the drawers and pulled out a box of matches, pulled one out and ripped it down the side of box, snapping it in the process. She swore, pulled another match out and did the same again.

"Fuck sake!" she growled, before finally lighting a match and beginning to light the candles around the room. "You are one fucked up man, Malfoy."

"I want you," I blurted out, coming towards her fast, "I want you."

One sharp intake of breath and she said, "Well that's great to know. Really. My life feels fulfilled."

"I want you," I said again, just as she lit the candles on the dresser, I went over and clasped her hips, pushing her against the drawers, pressing my lips against her neck. Hands went to her waist and I pulled her close, making her soft body mould against mine. Hot threads of pleasure laced through my body at her warmth, her softness, her smell.

"Alright Neanderthal, chill the fuck out," her hands pushed against my chest, though her voice sounded a little breathless, "This is wrong. You're married now. We can't do this."

"Yes, we can. I want to," my hands skimmed the hem of her t-shirt, toying with the idea of what was underneath.

"'I want' doesn't get," she said gently, pushing my hands down, "You have a wife now. Who you should be with, not me."

"I don't want her. I want you," there was a whining quality to my voice now, hands firmly back in place, lifting her up so she sat on top of the drawers. One hand trailed up to her hair and pulled through the tresses, working out the tangles from her sleep. I peppered her face with kisses, pushing her even further against the dressers.

"You sound like a 5 year old," she said. She grabbed my face and pushed it away, hazel eyes burning into mine, "Stop. This. I am not sleeping with you. Want to know why?"

I clenched my jaw and shook my head but she continued anyway, "One: you're drunk. We all know what has happened because you were drunk. Two: you're married. I can't do that to her, ok? It doesn't matter that I don't know her; I've always sworn to myself that I would never sleep with a guy who is married. Three: I'm a respectable girl. I don't spread my legs for any guy who flutters his eyelashes at me or has bipolar disorder, which you clearly do." She wriggled out of my grasp; "I'm going to put you to bed again, ok?"

I didn't let go, "Please. Please, I need you."

"Draco, honey, stop this. I'm tired and grumpy and it's four in the fucking morning. Beside the other reasons, I'm not in the mood, ok? Now let me get your arse to bed," she pushed against my chest, "Let me out."

"Only if you let me share the bed with you," I replied, tightening my grip around her waist, "Compromise."

She groaned, before she said, "Fine. Don't try anything though, ok?"

I grinned, "of course not."

I stepped back, letting her hop down to the floor. She began to blow out all the candles before taking my hand, "C'mon, sex monster."

I willingly took her hand, her long fingers twining with mine as she pulled me up the stairs. Entering her bedroom, she turned around releasing my hand, "take off your boots. Take off your trousers, but leave your boxers. As I said, try anything…" she made her hand into a fist and slapped it into her other hand, a deadly serious look on her face.

It almost made me laugh.

"Of course. I will be the perfect gentleman," I said, bowing low.

"Bull. Shit," she said bluntly, getting back underneath the covers, "but I'm used to it."

Trousers off, I quickly followed her, settling right next to her. The bed was warm, her scent everywhere. I instantly wrapped my arms around her waist, her back against my chest, head resting on the same pillow as mine and pulled her close, burying my nose into her hair. "I'm not trying anything," I said, my voice muffled, "I just want to hold you."

"Whatever, lover boy," she was already starting to sound sleepy, "You're my personal human hot water bottle anyway."

"Hmm," my eyes drooped, violets and strawberries filling my nostrils as I began to feel proper sleep take me, "Glad I'm of service."

"And you smell nice," she mumbled, "like lemons and…shtuff…" her breathing was evening out. She was fast asleep before she could finish the sentence.

I grinned into her hair, and closed my eyes believing, for a moment, that this was all normal.

There! Thank you for reviews and favourites etc. ÍThey make me grin :D

Any thoughts

Emily x