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Chapter 12: Confessions

***

"You're beginning to make a habit of this, Granger."

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Ron.

I peeled my eyes open. I felt like I'd been run over by the Hogwarts Express. My ankle was sore, though not as painful as it should have been. My hands had been re-bandaged and there was an awful taste in my mouth. In other words, I felt like a pile of dragon dung.

"Don't fight, please," I said to Ron and Draco, who were both watching over me as though I might break.

I was on a rather large and comfortable couch in Harry's office. I knew it was Harry's office because of the many pictures of Ginny and Lily that graced each flat surface. Ron was perched on the edge of Harry's desk, while Draco was on the arm of the couch, just above my head.

The way they hovered only made me want to get up more quickly. It's a shame but I've learned something during the time I've had Ron and Harry as my best mates. The moment I show a spot of weakness, they start treating me like a helpless damsel. To be equal to the boys, I've had to be tougher.

I sat up and touched my feet to the floor, hissing at the tenderness of my ankle.

"Sprained your ankle pretty bad, it seems," said Ron. "Not to mention, you nearly bit your tongue in half. Kingsley had his personal medi-witch have a look at you," he added. "Figured you wouldn't want to go back to St. Mungo's after you've only just got out."

I nodded my approval. That explained the mild soreness.

"Lavender," I gasped, suddenly remembering how I'd twisted my ankle so badly.

"We found her," said Ron solemnly.

"Who-who killed her?"

"Don't know, but we found Parkinson too …"

I glanced at Draco and then back to Ron. "Do you think it was her? I don't know what to believe now."

"Can't say for sure; she was unconscious when we found her. Harry's gone to see about a warrant for her arrest the moment she wakes up. I'm positive it was Parkinson."

"I don't think Pansy's responsible," Draco said.

Ron barely looked in his direction. "Yeah, well, good thing I didn't ask you then, isn't it?" he asked.

"How many unconscious people do you know that's committed a murder, Weasley?" Draco calmly asked.

"Piss off."

"Ronald, please," I said.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Draco said. "I'm accustomed to Weasley's dim-wittedness."

"Draco, don't you start too," I said.

"Yeah, I'll show you —" Ron said at the same time.

"What're you going to show me, Weasley? Going to show your face to my fist again?"

"So," I said to change the subject. "The woman in the Atrium — have you been able to identify her?"

Draco and Ron stopped their bickering immediately. They shared a look that I'd only ever seen Ron share with Harry. This was bad.

"Who was she?" I whispered, not really wanting to know.

Ron dropped his head. When he looked up again, there was sadness in his eyes. No, I didn't want to know.

"Penelope," he said, quietly.

I gasped. My hand flew to cover my mouth and I felt Draco's arms tighten on my shoulders.

"Penny? Does Percy know?"

"Yeah, some git from Law Enforcement told him. He shouldn't have had to find out like that."

"That's awful! How is he?"

Ron shook his head, his brows furrowed together beneath his hair. "Not good. He's at the Burrow, Mum's given him a calming draught. He hasn't said two words since.

Poor Percy … and Penny. I swallowed a lump of emotion, only to have it rise again immediately. There was no fighting it this time. I could feel the hot tears well in my eyes and spill onto my cheeks.

It was one thing to watch this happening as an outsider. I could feel sorry for the family, and sadness for their loss. But what happens when you are the family? When it's your loss?

I remembered how grief-stricken Percy had been when Fred had died. He dealt with the loss worse than any of us, aside from Molly and George. We would really have to rally around to see him through this. And what about their son? He was barely a year old and now Percy was a single father.

Silence settled over the three of us. I huddled myself closer to Draco and just as I was about to ask how she'd gotten in the Atrium, the door opened and Harry walked in.

I realized it was the first time I'd seen Harry in nearly a week. He looked even worse than Draco. His normally mildly-disheveled hair looked positively atrocious. He had a shadow of stubble on his chin and his green eyes were dull.

"Hermione," he said coming straight to me. He gave me a quick hug and perched on the empty cushion next to me. "You're awake. How're you feeling?"

"Better."

"Good." He tossed a folder on the small table in front of the couch. "Got the warrant for Parkinson. Priori Incantatum on her wand reveals no killing curses or dark magic of any kind has been performed though. And, we found this."

He held up a small gold pin and passed it around for all of us to examine. It was engraved on the front with two red letters, RB, and on the back it read, 'Pure Blood is Right Blood".

"Well, this proves someone from Rightblood is behind this," I said.

Harry nodded. "One of the Aurors found it clenched in Lavender's hand. There was a scrap of robes left in it, but that doesn't really help us—it didn't contain any hairs, so we can't use Polyjuice to figure out who it was."

Ron looked completely nonplussed and white as a sheet. "How is this possible?" he mumbled.

"You know we need hairs or something to — "

"What? No, I mean how's it possible that Parkinson's wand is clean?"

"It's possible, Weasley, because she's innocent. I've told you," Draco drawled.

"I know you have. Come to think of it, how are you so sure about that, Malfoy?"

Harry watched the two of them go back and forth before he rubbed his eyes under his frames. "Ron, please. We've already questioned him and he's taken Veritaserum — drop it."

I turned on Harry. "You gave him Veritaserum? But he wasn't even under arrest — that was illegal! Aurors are not to administer Veritaserum in an interrogation unless the--"

"I volunteered," Draco said, crossing ankle over his knee. "Look, if this lot wants to start barking up the same old tree instead of actually working on the case, so be it. I've got nothing to hide."

"I've already explained this to you Malfoy," Harry said tiredly. "We had to be sure."

"And I've already told you, Potter. I would never hurt her."

"It's not as though Veritaserum is infallible," Ron offered. I glared at him and he had the decency to look abashed. "What? I'm only making sure we consider every possible avenue."

I'll bet.

"Harry," I said as calmly as I could, "I won't begin to try to understand why you think my relationship with Draco has anything to do with this case, but might I suggest you—the both of you …" I looked at Ron. "…get over it. Forget about Draco, and me and let's focus on the case before another person gets killed. Or is my personal life more important?"

Harry looked like he wanted to have a go at me, but he thought better of it and picked up the files and the pin from the table. He pulled out a piece of parchment with the photograph of Lavender's body attached to the top right corner.

He glanced over at Draco. "Technically, we shouldn't even be discussing the case in front of Malfoy," he said without any emotion.

I didn't respond. Although I didn't like it, Harry was right. Draco was not an Auror and his help was limited to his expertise with dark artifacts, which Harry could acquire through Draco's supervisors. Draco sighed and I felt his arm begin to slide from around my shoulders.

"But," said Harry through clenched teeth, "In addition to being a ranking officer in the Ministry, Malfoy has proved himself loyal to Hermione. I suppose if you've earned Hermione's trust, you've earned mine."

"He hasn't earned mine," Ron said, indignantly.

"Thankfully, we don't need your consent — " Draco started. I squeezed his thigh and he cut his comment short.

Ron scowled but didn't say anything else.

"Anyway," Harry continued, "We've got two new murders and a Rightblood pin. One murder fits our victim profile." He set Penelope's file aside. I noticed he tried not to look at it as much as possible. I never considered how all of this might be affecting Harry. How hard it must be to have to solve the murder of your sister-in-law. He was now only holding Lavender's. "Our other victim, does not. She was pureblood and un-wed. And to top it off, we've got another pureblood witch lying unconscious in St. Mungo's."

"Maybe the killer is trying to throw us off," said Ron.

"I was thinking that too," Harry said. "Lavender's murder was nothing like the others'."

I nodded. "Lavender seemed more like an act of convenience, rather than hate. I mean, it was quick and hidden. The others have been quite public and utterly gruesome. Lavender was strangled."

Ron brushed his fringe from his eyes. "What d'you think could have been so convenient about Lavender's death, then?"

I didn't know. Killing Lavender seemed completely pointless. In her death, we were no closer to having solved this crime than when she had been alive. Maybe we were looking at it from the wrong angle, like trying to see all the colors of the rainbow through a prism. Unless the light strikes it just right, all you can see is plain white light. Perhaps she'd stumbled across the killer. Was it Pansy?

Draco had been quiet for a long time. If it hadn't been for the solid line of his body against the left side of mine, I'd have forgotten he was there. So, when he offered a suggestion, I started slightly. He squeezed my shoulder before swinging his arm over my head and leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together.

"What if it was to shut her up?" he asked.

The three of us looked to him, waiting for him to continue. He did.

"Think about it: the flowers Brown sent to Hermione's hospital room conveniently led us to the florist, and frankly, proven or not, the likelihood of the Firestar coming from there is high."

"What are you saying Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"I'm saying, what if Brown knew who the killer is and tried to send a clue. Problem is, the killer found out before we could realize it and attacked her to keep her quiet."

"The list! Harry where's that list you showed me a few weeks ago?" I asked, suddenly. What Draco said made sense.

He shuffled through a few pieces of parchment before pulling out the one I requested. He spread it on the table so that all four of us could see it properly. Since I'd seen it, he'd crossed out a few more names.

"Let's say the killer is someone Lavender knew personally…"

"Why ?" asked Draco.

Harry answered, "Because why else would she try and send clues instead of coming right out and saying who it is? The likelihood of Lavender finding something like this out about a stranger is pretty low, Malfoy."

"Right," I said. "So, Lavender knew the killer from work, or a social group or…"

"Rightblood," Draco said. "I mean, if they tried to get me to join and they succeeded in getting Pansy, then it's possible they got to Brown too."

"How many people on that list fit into that category?" I asked Harry.

He silently counted, marking off names with his wand as he went. "Three. Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Daphne Greengrass. But I hear Bulstrode has just gotten engaged to a half-blood, so we can rule her out."

"That leaves Pansy and Daphne," I said out loud, but to myself.

"What a surprise," Ron said dryly.

"Honestly, neither of them seem to have the guile to pull it off."

"And they've got alibis — we've checked," Ron said.

Harry nodded his head while staring off in thought. "Ron's right; I guess the only thing to do now is watch them. Someone is doing this and the likely suspects are these two women. They have to make a mistake soon. Ron, take this down to Jordan, have him put a trace on it, will you? Pansy's dad should come looking for it soon enough." He passed Pansy's wand.

"What are you going to do about the Prophet? You know someone in the Atrium is going to say something. It'll be all over the papers by morning."

"I'll have to ask Shacklebolt what he wants us to do about that. Just take care of that wand."

Ron nodded. "I'll go now." He paused to glare at Malfoy and smile at me. "Be careful, Hermione."

I smiled back. "Thanks, Ron."

"He's got a point," Harry said, as the door closed. "I don't really like the idea of you going back to your house right now. If they tried once, I'm almost certain they'll try again."

"Harry…" I started.

"Potter's right," Draco said. "You should stay at my place until we — they've caught this person."

"Yeah, you could stay with me and Ginny and … wait, what?"

I was already shaking my head. "No. I can't put you and Ginny out, or put Lily in danger. Just because I'm not at my house doesn't mean they won't try."

Harry had nothing to say to that. Draco did.

"It's settled, then. You can stay with me. It's a much better idea anyway."

Harry pushed his glasses up and frowned at Draco. "Oh yeah? How's that?"

Draco put his arm back around my shoulders with a possessiveness I'd never seen. "It just is."

I rolled my eyes. "While I appreciate this chivalrous display of manliness, I can take care of myself."

"I know you can Hermione, but can you please do this? I'd just… It'd give me peace of mind."

I didn't want to and I shouldn't have to. But, I knew Harry. He would worry himself gray.

"Fine, fine. But I'll stay with Draco. I won't risk Ginny or Lily's safety."

Draco stood and helped me up. My ankle was still sore, but I could walk. I had to.

"Take care of her, Malfoy," Harry said.

I made it to the door and turned to face Harry. "I can take care of myself."

Harry smiled, and it brought some light back to his eyes. "Of course you can."

***

Draco had to carry me up the stairs in his home.

He had helped me pack at least a fortnight's worth of belongings and personals. We used the Floo connection in his study and discovered that my ankle was much too sore to support my weight up a flight of stairs.

"I can do it," I said.

"Goyle could run a mile in the time it'd take you to climb the stairs," he replied. "Stop being so bloody difficult."

"I'm not being difficult." I took a tiny step and winced. "I just don't want you to think I can't do things for myself."

Draco rolled his eyes, cast the spell to send my bags zooming up the stairs, and scooped me up in his arms.

I let out an embarrassing squeal of surprise and clutched the collar of his oxford shirt.

"Draco, put me down!" I hollered at him. He ignored me and climbed the stairs with impressive ease. He set me down gingerly and let me hobble into his bedroom. I was breathless and flushed. I hated to admit it but, knowing he was strong and athletic enough to carry me up a flight of stairs and not be winded was a turn-on. I didn't tell him that, though.

Instead, I swallowed and said, "That display of masculinity was totally unnecessary."

Draco laughed, and it was an appreciative sound. Not an open-mouthed guffaw like Ron's, but just as real. "You're welcome, Granger."

The first tour I'd gotten of his home hadn't included his bedroom. That, or I'd not paid attention, but that wasn't likely because I would have noticed such a beautiful room. Like everything else Draco owned, his room exuded expensive, classic taste. The room was made of rich leather, deep wood and masculine colors right down to the thick, tan carpeting. On the far side of his room was a set of French doors that faced the wide-open quad at the back of his home. I suppose I'd been expecting serpent heads and loads of black and Slytherin green. For once, I was glad that I was wrong.

I let Draco use the shower first. I wanted to arrange my things and put away my unmentionables in private. I think he'd known this and took an extra long shower out of courtesy.

I was just gathering my toiletries when the bathroom door opened. He'd come out in loose fitting, white sleep trousers — he wore nothing underneath — and no shirt. His hair was still damp and finger-raked straight back.

"It's all yours," he said, moving about unaware of the way my eyes followed his every move. I tried not to stare at the way the thin cotton clung to his backside, or the noticeable outline of him in front, but there was no use … he had made an innocent pair of pyjama-bottoms look so deliciously wicked.

I still hadn't moved when he begun to turn down the bed. It wasn't until he climbed in and propped his arms behind his head that he looked up at me. "What? Do you need help or something?"

I blinked and clutched my possessions to my chest. "N-no… I'm just… tired. It's been a long day."

He grinned and I felt my knees wobble slightly. It should be illegal to look so shaggable.

"Well don't be too tired, you've still got a promise to fulfill," he said.

"What promise is that?"

"That if I let you go to the Ministry… you'd do dirty things to me later."

I willed my face not to flush.

"You didn't let me do anything." I limped to the bathroom entrance and paused at the door. "And as for the last part—just don't fall asleep yet." Draco laughed as I shut the door behind me.

The bathroom was made of elegant tile and soft, contoured fixtures. The only modern addition was a built-in shower on the other side of a short wall adjacent to the tub. The claw-foot tub was filled with sweet-smelling, steamy water. I had planned to take a quick shower, but my aching body longed for the bath.

***

I soaked until every knot and sore spot vanished. By the time I came out, Draco was fast asleep.

He had opened the French doors, and a wide shaft of bright moonlight spilled into the room, carrying warm, Spring air with it. With a wide yawn, I crawled into the soft, satin sheets, curled my body alongside Draco's and fell into a fitful sleep.

I dreamed of fiery bouquets and dark corridors littered with the mutilated bodies of my friends.

I dreamed that I found Draco, his once smooth alabaster skin burned away. All that was left was a pair of unblinking, glassy gray eyes.

I woke crying and sweating despite the breeze rolling in off the tops of the trees. I sat up in the unfamiliar bed and looked around. The moon had shifted in the past few hours and the light fell across a still sleeping Draco. I relaxed only a little. He lay on his stomach, his arms gathered above his head and beneath his pillow. The pale comforter that looked much lighter in the moonlight, was pushed aside, and I allowed my eyes to fully appreciate his beauty.

A brief image of him from my dream flashed across my mind's eye.

I couldn't take it if he died. I actually couldn't take it if any more people I knew died. But, as I sat in the darkness, and stared at his body bathed in moonlight, I knew that I loved him. And it wasn't frightening or intimidating… it was true. I'd go mad if I lost him.

I reached my hand out and lightly ran it over his body. I moved down the sinewy muscles of his back and over the rounded globes of his arse. I loved him.

I turned my head away and wiped away more ridiculous tears with the back of my hand. A sudden, sick feeling was growing in the pit of my stomach. Now, I could understand how Percy must feel. The killer had to be stopped.

But how?

The satiny material of my gown made it easy for me to slip quietly from the bed. The thick carpeting absorbed my footsteps as I slipped out onto the balcony. I quietly settled onto the lounge chair in the corner.

The whole world was asleep at this hour. The only things moving seemed to be the owls, and me. My thoughts wouldn't let me sleep. I had to push the dead from my mind and focus on the solving their murders. I felt like they would never rest in peace until I did. I had to think…fit all the pieces together.

Suddenly, the story Draco had told me weeks ago about the girl in the hospital popped into my head. Something he'd said at the time stuck with me: Most of her left side was severely burned, skin gone, everything. I needed to know more about that case. It wouldn't hurt to do a bit of digging… Draco had said the person was never caught. Maybe there was something … an old issue of the Daily Prophet or …

"What are you doing out here?" Draco's voice cut into my thoughts, startling me.

"You have to stop sneaking up on me like that."

He slid behind me, straddling the lounge and settled me between his legs. "Even if I'd come out singing the Weasel King song, I don't think you'd have heard me. What were you thinking so hard about, eh?"

"Nothing, just… everything."

"Ah, that clears it all up." He wrapped his arms around me.

"I mean, nothing is making sense. People keep dying… people I care about, and it seems they—we aren't getting any closer to solving this case."

"I see. Well, I don't think you can solve it at three o'clock in the morning. Come and get some rest, and tomorrow we can really think about it."

"Draco," I started to ask him more about the girl in the hospital, but I remembered how sensitive it had been for him. I didn't want to upset him, especially with nothing more than speculation. "Nothing. You're right, we can talk about it tomorrow."

I tilted my head back to rest on his chest. He was gently stroking my stomach. I liked it when he touched me. He seemed to do it automatically whenever we lounged about or just happened to be near each other.

"You know," he began, "the Ministry ball is only a week away. Do you think you will be feeling up to it? I'd be more than willing to skive off—"

"Oh no!" I cried then groaned.

"What?"

"I had completely forgotten about the ball."

"No worries, we don't have to go. I'm sure after all that's happened …"

"No, you don't understand. I've got to give a speech. Nothing big, Shacklebolt just wants me to say a few words, but I haven't even started it. I haven't even got a dress!"

Draco sighed. "Well, you've got a week and I'd be willing to help any way I can if you need it."

I turned my head and looked up at him. His eyes were downcast toward me, the long pale lashes like a curtain over his eyes. I smiled and turned away to look at the sky. "You still surprise me sometimes," I said.

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Sometimes, you say the sweetest things. It used to frighten me," I confessed. "That you knew all the right things to say."

"And now?"

"I find it rather charming."

"Of course I am," he said and I could hear the smile in his voice. We were quiet for several minutes. I was starting to drift off to sleep again when he spoke.

"Since we're confessing things, I still find it hard to believe that you agreed to dinner with me. If someone would have told me five years ago, that I would someday have permission to touch Hermione Granger's soft," –he kissed my shoulder—"brilliant body any way I please … I'd have hexed them six ways to Sunday."

His words didn't rouse me from sleep, so much as his actions. His hands traveled up my body ending with his hands gently weighing my breasts. He massaged them and alternately rubbed slow circles over my nipples. I bit my lip to stifle the gasp.

"Any way you please?" I asked.

"Don't I?" he asked in reply. "I've touched you here." He pressed his lips to the side of my neck. I shivered as I felt his tongue dart out to wet my skin. "I've touched you here …" He lifted a breast with one hand, while the other hand skimmed down my body. "And most importantly, I've touched you and I've tasted you and I've fucked you here."

He deftly slid his hand along my inner thigh until his finger-tips tickled me there. I had not worn knickers to bed and when his fingers discovered the fact, Draco groaned quietly and rested his forehead on my shoulder. He spread my legs so that we both straddled the lounge chair. I could feel his hard chest pressed along my back, and lower, the prodding stiffness of his erection. One of Draco's long fingers traced lazy lines that drove me crazy. He dipped a finger inside, lower, gathering moisture before bringing his hand back up my torso to pinch my nipples.

"You still haven't fulfilled your promise, Granger." His low tone rumbled against my back.

It was so hard to think. His hands… "You-you fell asleep."

"I'm awake now, love." He proved just how awake he was by grinding his erection into my backside.

Finally, I twisted around and kissed him and it was clumsy and hungry and just perfect. Without breaking the kiss, I hitched my sleeping gown up high, revealing my nakedness underneath and straddled his lap. I brazenly ground my hips into his erection. The only thing between was the thin cotton pyjama bottoms he wore. It felt good, but more than that, Draco elicited small sounds with every roll of my hips that set my body on fire. The sound of our lips parting when Draco finally broke the kiss was loud on the still, early-morning air.

"God, Hermione," he said. Encouraged, I nudged him until he leaned against the back of the lounge chair. I kissed him briefly before I slid down to prop myself between his thighs.

The hard length of him twitched under my gaze. I felt more boldly than I ever had before and reached out to grab him through the cotton of his trousers. Draco's eyes closed for only a moment, and then opened again to watch what I would do next. I never looked away from his face as I slowly untied his trousers. The anticipation alone had his chest heaving. I tugged the pyjamas down, revealing all of Draco to me.

The moon cast a soft light on his body. He was beautiful, from his sleep tousled hair all the way down to the quivering piece of flesh resting against his stomach. I moved both hands along his inner thighs. They felt firm and strong beneath my hands. I wanted this to last. I wanted to know Draco's body like I knew my own.

I gently stroked the delicate skin of his scrotum: the silken skin in the middle, and further down to the soft, firm skin between his scrotum and anus. I glanced up and Draco's head was thrown back as he panted heavily. When the touching stopped, he opened his eyes and they were near black. Only a thin ring of that odd gray colour was left.

I bypassed the area he wanted me to touch most. My fingers teasingly trailed through the curly blond hair and moved up to caress his abdomen. The muscles bunched beneath my hands but he did not speak. His eyes fluttered for just a moment, but he did not close them.

I got to my knees and flung my hair over one shoulder. His expression was pained by the time I dipped my head and breathed hot kisses along his inner thigh. I barely grazed my lips along his sac, and finally along the throbbing shaft of his erection.

My fingers followed the same trail: along his inner thigh, over the delicate skin of his sac and around his rigid length. I wrapped my hand fully around him and gave a gentle squeeze. A viscous drop of fluid oozed from the tip. Finally, Draco broke.

"Please, I need you—" he choked off his sentence when I closed my mouth around the leaking head. I teased the slit at the top and the underside with my tongue.

Draco groaned. The sound went straight to my groin and I knew a probing finger would find me more than ready for him. His hips bucked slightly as I slid as much of his thick length in my mouth as I could. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard as I slid him out.

"God Hermione, I won't last long," Draco panted. "I want to be inside you."

I obediently released him to crawl along his body, dragging my breasts over his erection in the process. I straddled him and he immediately tugged my gown over my head and tossed it across the balcony. He plunged his fingers in my hair and kissed me, deeply and soundly.

His hands were everywhere: My breasts, my bum, my back, stomach …. The whole time I was moving desperately against him. My own ardor so high, I thought I might combust if I didn't feel him in me soon.

His head fell back and I instinctively left open-mouth kisses along his throat. I simultaneously began moving my hips. I moved frantically, trying to create as much friction as possible. Draco leaned back and I balanced myself placing both hands on his chest. I lifted up and he reached between us to guide himself to my entrance. He then placed both hands on my hips and, almost painfully slowly, pulled me to him until he was fully sheathed inside. And he was so deep; so incredibly deep inside me.

We were both panting, both fighting for control. His fingers were digging into my backside, until finally he released me and opened his eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Hermione," he said.

I smiled at him and he moved my hips forward and back. He finally set the rhythm he wanted and freed his hands to touch my body.

He circled my waist and brought both hands up to cup my breasts. He gently tugged at my nipples which were super sensitive by now. My speed increased uncontrollably and I fell forward. Draco met me, thrust for thrust and in my head I screamed yes, yes, yes, yes keeping pace with our love making.

We didn't slow down when he pulled me in for a kiss. I rubbed against him with delicious friction and I felt it building below my navel. I broke the kiss and strived for completion. I forgot the silent mantra and screamed raggedly as I came. My head fell forward and I didn't stop. There was more… God, how could there be more.

Draco panted hotly in my ear and suddenly he flipped us so that he was on top and I was on my back with my head at the foot of the chair. Now my hands were free and I wrapped both arms and legs around his sweat dampened body. He pumped into to me hard and it wasn't long before I felt it again. This time, Draco groaned aloud. His arms quivered. He thrust a few more times and suddenly stilled as he orgasmed. I was right behind him and together we trembled until the last of it was wrung from us.

The sound came back, my vision cleared and once again we lay under the quiet stillness of night. Draco had collapsed right on top of me and it was just fine with me. It made me feel safe.

Draco pressed a light kiss to the side of my neck. "I love you."


AN: So, this chapter has been written for, like, six months. It was part of the reason why I didn't update for so long. I personally felt that it was much too soon to have Draco profess feelings of love; however, every time I re-wrote the chapter, it ended the same. So, what could I do? These characters really do have minds of their own! Anyway, thanks to: UnseenLibrarian, Kyra4, DaOnLeeSam, Roseasweet, and Dramione-Fan17 for the awesomest reviews!

Thanks so much to kamikaze-tryst for the beta job!