Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. I write for fun and to learn.
Chapter 9: The Morning After
***
I woke the next morning feeling relaxed and pleasantly sore in certain places.
I realized that up until this moment, I had expected to feel something … bad. Maybe, regret or hurt. Somewhere deep inside, I even expected to wake up and he would be gone. I could be angry, swear off men like Draco, and get on with my life. But the only thing I could feel as I pressed my lips to the scar on his chest was intense satisfaction and a sense of rightness. Like, if I woke up every morning, just like this, it would be just fine. That type of thinking could be dangerous.
The tiny white hairs on his arm seemed to glow in the sunlight. I lightly stroked his arm from elbow to shoulder. The hairs stood at attention and little bubbles of goose flesh appeared on his alabaster skin. I knew the exact moment he woke up because there was a tension in his body that had not been there before.
He spoke without opening his eyes. His voice was deeper than normal and thick with sleep.
"You just can't get enough," he drawled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to kill me."
"Please," I said. "Besides, that isn't possible. I've never heard of anyone dying of ecstasy before."
He smiled lazily.
"There's a first time for everything. And just because you don't know it doesn't mean that it hasn't happened, that's terribly presumptuous of you." He finally opened his eyes.
"Are you always this quarrelsome in the mornings?" I asked, only half serious.
He watched me for a few moments as though rolling the thought around in his mind. "You'll just have to find out, won't you?"
"In your dreams, Malfoy."
"Gorgeous and cheeky. Precisely the way I like my witches," he said. "Why did I never notice this before?" His comment made my face warm with embarrassment. I'd been called bright or smart before, but never gorgeous and certainly never by Draco.
I didn't know how to respond so I kept my mouth shut.
"Who's preparing breakfast?" he asked.
I nearly snorted in reply. "Not me."
"Now that you mention it," he said in a tone that could only promise bad news, "I have never tasted a meal prepared by your hands."
"There's a reason for that, you know. I prefer not to burden people with things I cook," I replied. It was widely known that my cooking left much to be desired. Along with Divination, it was one of the abilities I was never born with and it didn't bother me one bit. George joked that if I ever married off, we'd starve to death if the man couldn't cook. Ron had been appalled.
"Oh, please. Do not presume to tell me that you are terrible at something. Perish the thought," Draco said. He widened his eyes in mock outrage.
"I don't believe I appreciate the sarcasm," I snipped. He chuckled and I could feel the action rumble through his chest. I couldn't hide the tiniest of smiles and settled a bit more against his body.
"I'm sorry. But, you're still in charge of breakfast. I like my toast dark and eggs scrambled, thanks."
I just looked at him.
"You underestimate my powers of persuasion, Granger."
I looked up and tried not to react to the handsome smirk on his face. "And what powers would those be? Pestering?"
"Nothing quite so innocent," he said.
Draco snaked one arm around my waist, drawing me into the heated space between our bodies. He smiled and gave me a devilish look that only a man could give who had nothing but lustful intentions up his sleeve—or down his trousers.
Pressed this tightly against him, I knew just what he planned to "persuade" me with. It wouldn't be very difficult. I pretended to discourage his kisses until he finally captured my mouth in a sweet kiss.
"I could get used to this," Draco said.
"Get used to what?"
He paused, "Used to waking up with you in my arms."
My heart began to beat a little faster. That had been my own thought less than an hour ago. My voice was surprisingly steady. "That was a very nice thing to say."
"I meant it," he replied and swept one hand through his already sleep-tousled hair. "What about you?
I said nothing.
"Hermione, just curious, what is it that you like about me?"
The question stunned me. It was so personal and almost insecure, but we were lying naked in each others arms. It was hard to be more personal than that.
Oddly though, this question had been the foundation of my attraction to Draco. For the past few weeks I'd been trying to answer it for myself. It was so many things and nothing specific at the same time.
"Are you fishing for compliments?" I joked.
"No."
Okay, then. Either he didn't get it or he ignored it. I drew in a small breath and answered slowly.
"Well, you're quite handsome since you've grown out of your pointy-ness," I said quietly. I looked up hoping to draw at least a twitch of the lips from him.
He said, "Is that all?"
Sweet Godric, he wasn't going to let this one go was he?
I was growing uncomfortable now. People just don't ask those types of questions. Besides, how could I tell him that I thought he was smart, and witty, incredibly sexy, and everything that I thought a man should be without sounding like a besotted school girl? My face blazed just thinking it.
Instead, I said, "What kind of question is that?"
"Forget it," he snapped.
I sighed. This was certainly not turning out the way I wanted. I could feel against my belly that he was no longer in the mood and he was pouting, again. Damn.
My face was burning before I'd even opened my mouth. "You are … brilliant, and funny, and moody, but that's good. You are the exact opposite of me and it's bloody fascinating. And—and you are quite handsome. There, are you happy now?"
I hadn't the pluck to look him in the face after a confession like that, so I stared at his chest. Still, when he spoke I knew he was smiling. I could hear it in his voice.
"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
"Easy for you to say," I grumbled. "What if I asked you the same thing?"
He slid his hand from my waist to cup my bum. Despite my annoyance, my body responded to his touch. He ducked his head and kissed that place between my neck and shoulder, lightly grazing me with his teeth.
"I'd say I love the scent of your hair." He took a deep breath to punctuate his words. I shivered as he released it in a rush over my skin. "I love the way you feel." A squeeze. "So soft."
I boldly wrapped a hand around his waist and grabbed the meaty part of his buttocks.
"You've got some soft bits yourself," I said.
He chuckled and caused his erection to shift and press suggestively into my lower belly.
"Soft bits, eh?"
I laughed. "So is that it?"
He shook his head. "No."
Then quickly, before I could further inquire, he was above me in one fluid movement. He settled himself between my legs. Slowly, he began to trace the head of his erection along my inner thigh and tickle it through the sensitive area between my legs.
"If I did die like this, Granger, I'd have died a happy man," he said. I laughed and slapped his shoulder playfully.
He ducked his head to kiss my face. I wrapped my arms around his back, reveling the feel of his weight against me, from my breast crushed against his chest all the way down to the way our legs entwined. The skin beneath my hands at his back was unsurprisingly smooth. I could feel his muscles shift and undulate below the skin as he moved against me.
He was panting in my ear and his erection had slipped between my slick folds. He hovered at my entrance. Just when I was about to remind him of the contraceptive spell again, I heard a very loud knock on my front door.
Draco heard it too because he said, "Ignore them, they'll go away."
"What if it's important?"
With a heavy sigh, he rolled away and turned his body to face me. It took a lot more will power than I would have liked to admit to leave Draco naked and randy in my bed.
"I'll be right back," I said.
I got out of bed, very aware of Draco watching my naked body.
I heard a quiet chuckle behind me. I turned around and found Draco watching me with an arrogant smirk on his face. He certainly had no qualms about nudity. He was on his side, propped on one elbow and still nude, the sheet partially covering his lap. His grin flowed from playful to lascivious in mere seconds.
"What?" I asked, ignoring the bout of self-consciousness hovering at the edge of awareness.
"You," he said.
"Is that so? Well—"
"Actually, your hair. You look so … never mind." He waved his hand.
But I knew. Usually, I braid my hair at night as to avoid the nest that I knew it was this morning. Add that on top of last night's activities and—well, yeah. Not a morning sprite, but he didn't have to point it out. Men could be so insensitive. I let myself get angry, better than being hurt. And I didn't try to hide it.
"Whatever, Malfoy," I said and turned to leave, but as quick as a flash, he reached out and caught my arm. The sheet had fallen away and he was on all fours in the bed. I tried to ignore it.
"Oi, now what's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said, "I need to get the door."
He didn't look like he believed me, but he let go of my arm. I must have rolled my eyes, or done something because he went from kneeling on the bed to blocking my path in less than three strides. He was still nude, but that didn't give me pause as much as the expression on his face. He was puzzling over me again. It gave me that feeling of deep scrutiny and I shifted under his gaze.
"I did something?" He made it a question. I just looked at him.
"I was only teasing. I'm sorry." He said softly.
"Forget it, Malfoy." I moved to step around him but he moved with me to block my path.
"I swear to you, I meant nothing by it. I—" And he cut off, an uncharacteristic blush tinged his pale face.
Until now, I'd never know grown men blushing could be a turn-on. Maybe it was just Draco blushing, whatever the case, I now had to struggle to hold on to my anger.
He finally seemed to gather the right words. "I was only being boastful that you look thoroughly shagged, and I did it to you."
Now it was my turn to blush. So much for anger. "Draco, forget it, really."
He studied me some more, then briefly brushed his lips against mine. I silently cringed as my pulse sped from that brief contact. It was much too soon for me to feel this strongly. "Are we good, then?" he asked.
"We're good."
He stepped aside, finally letting me pass. Just as I made it out the door, he swatted me on the bum.
"Be quick about it then, I need breakfast and it's your turn to cook."
"I'm not cooking," I said as I went to answer the door.
***
I opened the door only to find no one there.
I suddenly had a strange feeling that I should draw my wand, but I'd left it on the bedside table. Percy's warning ran through my mind. I should never forget my wand in times like these when there was a killer walking free, even in my own home. It could be a loony admirer, a killer or nothing at all. But I shouldn't take chances.
Cautiously, I stepped outside. I had no idea what time it was, but it was already very warm outside. And humid. Birds were singing in the trees on my property, but still that uneasy feeling persisted. I looked around. Up and down the street. I saw no one except an old couple out for a morning walk. I was on my way back inside when my foot touched something. A box.
I jumped, because I would have sworn that it wasn't there just a moment ago. I lived really close to Muggles, so I know no one would risk magic in this area in public. The Ministry would be on it in no time. So, it had to have been there, didn't it? I just hadn't seen it.
The box was the size of a shoebox. It was wrapped in bright red paper and tied with a big purple bow, and attached was a card. Without deciding it if were a good idea or not, I picked it up and took it inside. They say curiosity killed the cat, I hope I didn't make the same mistake.
"I got a package," I called.
I went to the sofa and set the box on the table in front of me. I stared for a moment before curiosity finally won. I carefully detached the card from the package and read it. 'ENJOY.'
That was all.
Just then, Draco entered the room and sat next to me. He had slipped into his trousers from last night but nothing else. "Who left you a gift?" he asked.
I snorted and passed the card to him. He made a noise just as dignified and tossed it on the table. I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.
"What is it?" he asked, peering over my shoulder to see into the box.
"It's a … flower?" I made it a question. "Why would someone send just one flower?"
"Maybe it's all they could afford. Maybe it's from Weasley." Draco leaned back and yawned.
I shot him an annoyed look but he wasn't paying attention.
"I suppose I should be upset now," he went on. "Some bloke sending you flowers."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. It's just one flower."
A very pretty flower too. People; admirers, reporters had sent me flowers before, but it was always something very common like, roses. Regardless of the color, I did not like roses. This flower was not common. It was that odd color between blue and purple. Each of its five petals had a slash of bright red in the middle like rouged lips. The pistils were long and sun-shiny yellow. I hadn't studied Herbology thoroughly since Hogwarts, but there was something nagging me about this flower.
Draco picked up the note again. He was staring at it when he said, "Maybe you should leave it alone until you at least know who sent it. Could be a Portkey or something—"
But it was too late. I was already holding it, and suddenly I remembered. It was a Firestar; a very illegal flower that secretes a poison from its petals that can spread like venom and eat through skin like acid.
At first it only felt like a little tingle, like holding onto a cup of good, hot tea. Then, I screamed.
I could feel the skin of my hands crackle and dissolve, exposing the flesh and muscle underneath.
I'd thought enduring the Cruciatus cursehad been the most painful ordeal of my existence. I had been way off. Next to this, it was a playful caress of the skin. I sucked in lung fulls of air to scream but all that came out was a choked gasp. The sensation of sizzling flesh made me forget everything except the blinding pain. My only clear thought had been a longing for swift death.
Distantly, I could hear Draco yelling. I couldn't be bothered to listen, but the fear in his voice finally cut through my pain.
"Hermione! Shit, Hermione, drop the flower," he cried. "Drop the damn thing!
Didn't he know that if I could, I would have already done it? Every muscle had coiled and cramped under the pain. It was like rubbing sandpaper on raw exposed skin. Gasping for air and in unbelievable agony, I could only clutch the flower closer.
He was still screaming a string of expletives when I stopped hearing him. There is a point when the brain can no longer comprehend the level of abuse the body is experiencing because by that point, the body should not be able to survive. All that was left was the thrumming sensation that comes after hitting a really big gong or drum. I realized that my eyes were open and though my vision was gray around the edges, I could see Draco. Funny, his mouth was moving but I didn't hear a thing. I read his lips, though—"Accio!"—he had yelled.
The thrumming stopped. I mustered just enough strength to turn my head. I coughed and retched until there was not enough air left to heave.
And then the world faded to black.
AN: O, good people of fandom, I am so sorry. Lots of things happened. Long story short, my computer crashed and I lost my beta. Starting now, this story is only proofread by me. Any mistakes are my own.
