Author's Note: So this turned out to be a much longer chapter than I'd originally planned because I merged two chapters together… I guess I wanted to move the plot along a little bit more than the original Chapter 93 would have, haha. Hope you guys like it!

Chapter 93

I throw my hands up in the air, frustrated, and start to pace back and forth.

"Just tell me, Draco. I won't feel better until you do."

We came back to his house to find that Harry and Ginny had both gone, so I'd tried to convince him to talk to me about his mother, about Russia.

Clearly, approaching him directly had been the wrong way to go about it.

"We just won the fucking war," he says. "It's over. It's done. Can't we save this talk for later?"

"But I—"

"I don't want to hear it," he says.

He snatches me by the shoulders and presses me back into the wall. Then his lips cover mine, and I shove hard against his chest. When it's clear that he won't budge, I turn my head to the side.

"We need to talk about this—"

"We've done enough talking," he growls before capturing my lips again.

I try to push him away again, but already my efforts are only half-hearted.

"All I want to do right now," he mumbles against my lips, "is fuck you. Over, and over, and over again, until both our brains turn to mush."

He thrusts his hips against mine as he finishes his speech, and I whimper.

Damn him, I don't want to be distracted!

I realize that his hands have released me, caressing my sides instead. But I can't seem to force him away. His hands slide beneath my shirt, and his lips slide back until they're near my ear.

"Draco, no," I say a little breathlessly. "I really want to—"

I cut myself off with a gasp as he positions himself strategically and rocks his hips against mine again. I can feel the length of him pressing lightly into my seam, through our clothing, and I can't help but moan at the feeling.

My body is betraying me, caving in to his attentions.

I let him work my shirt off and thread my fingers in his hair, yanking his head back for a deep kiss. He groans in approval, and suddenly, both of us are desperate to rid each other of our clothes.

As we strip each other down, I feel almost as though I'm on autopilot, not truly in control of my actions. I can feel the product of my arousal slipping down my inner thigh, and I hitch that leg up around his waist so that he'll be able to feel the hot liquid.

He groans in response and presses me back into the wall, lifting my other leg up as well. I wrap my legs around him, loving our proximity. His thick cock is pressing just slightly into me, and I start trying to lower myself onto him.

Suddenly, he releases my legs and backs up a step. I squeal but manage to catch my footing. I reach for him, but he grips my hips and turns me around, pushing me into the wall. Surprised and a little intimidated, I let out a small yelp.

His hot breath fans over the back of my ear as he murmurs, "Stick your arse out for me, Hermione. I'm going to take you from behind."

I freeze, unsure of what exactly he means by that.

When I don't respond to his command immediately, he nips my ear. Then his hands give a light tug on my hips, pulling me back a step. He places a palm flat on my back and pushes my torso forward. Flushing, I try to pull my hips forward, but he keeps a firm grip on me, holding me in position. I feel like I'm thrusting my arse back at him, and the position is slightly uncomfortable.

"Stay just like that," he says.

"But I—"

"Trust me."

Biting back the mortification, I hold still when Draco pulls his hands away from me, deciding to see what he'll do—if this is something sexual, then he's obviously more experienced with it than I am.

He pulls my hands up above my head, and thick ropes wrap around them, keeping them in place.

"Draco…" I say uneasily.

"Shh."

His hands run over the curve of my bum, and I begin to twist around in an attempt to look at him. One of his hands immediately comes up and presses my torso back against the wall with a gentle but firm touch.

His free hand cruises leisurely over my skin with the lightest of touches, slowly gliding up my side and then back down again. He takes a step closer but doesn't quite touch me, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. Then his hand slides around my hip and moves downward.

I instinctively try to close my legs, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. His hand slides between my legs, and I feel his hot breath against my ear again.

"Don't fight me, Hermione."

Why does my name sound like such a sin coming from his lips?

I feel myself getting wet again despite how uncomfortable I am with this position. His fingers slowly start to stroke me, and I relax my legs slightly so that he can get a better angle.

"That's it," he murmurs.

His fingers slowly tease my folds without entering, and my legs quiver slightly.

"Has anyone touched you here before, apart from me?" he asks.

My cheeks feel as though they're on fire. He presses the tip of one finger into me, just until the first knuckle, and I whimper.

"Answer me."

"Only you," I say.

He makes a sound low in his throat that reminds me of the satisfied purr of something wild. Then he rewards me by sinking his whole finger into me, making me moan.

"You're soaking wet, Hermione. I've got your juices running down my hand. You like this, don't you?"

I bite my lip, trying to understand why it's such a turn-on for me to be in such a helpless position.

He slides a second finger into me, and I shudder.

"Fuck me, Draco. Just fuck me."

"You're not enjoying the attention?"

He pumps his fingers in and out of me agonizingly slowly, and I cry out in frustration.

"Do you think you could get yourself off, just like this?" he asks.

I flush again. "Stop it, Draco."

"Don't you want to admit that this is really turning you on?"

I suppress a moan at his words and realize what he's doing. I've read about dominant-submissive relationships before, but I'd always thought that I would like being in control. I never imagined that being completely in someone else's power could be so… arousing.

He shifts a bit closer to me, and I can feel his erection pressing against my rear.

"Get yourself off," he says, gently rubbing his cheek against mine. "I want to watch."

I swallow hard. This feels so humiliating, even though we're the only two people in the room.

Then his thumb rubs at my clit, and I moan, jerking my hips involuntarily as pleasure jolts through me. I slide up and down his fingers slightly.

But he stops moving, and I hold back a disappointed whine.

"Don't you wanna get off?" he says in a low, tempting voice. "Go for it."

The two fingers inside me twitch just slightly, and I moan at the sensation but continue to hold still.

"Have it your way, then," he says.

His fingers start pumping again, and he inserts a third. I groan at the feeling of being stretched out again. He leans into me, sliding his free hand up to cup my breast. He pinches my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging lightly.

Down below, his fingers increase the pace of their thrusting.

Craving even more, I start grinding my hips against his fingers. My clit rubs against his palm when I move, and I mewl, rocking my hips faster.

I'm so close—so, so close…

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that he's already stopped moving his fingers, that this is all me now. But at this point, I couldn't stop the frantic motion of my hips even if I'd wanted to. A few more pumps later, my body tenses up, and I catapult into bliss.

As I regain my senses, his fingers slide out of me.

My entire body feels like jelly, as though it doesn't contain a single bone.

Slowly, he eases me backwards onto his cock, and I let out a long, breathy sigh. It feels so good. When he's fully inside me, he groans and plants a few kisses along the back of my neck, trailing up to my ear.

I expect him to start moving, but he holds still, and I realize that he's giving me time to recover. I tug at the ropes around my wrists—I want to turn around and kiss him—but they hold tightly.

His hands wander slowly up my body, one of them slick with my secretions, leaving behind a slippery trail. He pinches and tugs lightly at my nipples, forcing my need back to the surface, and I find myself desiring a good, hard fuck from him.

I clench the muscles in my pussy experimentally.

"Fuck," he hisses, giving me an especially hard nip at the base of my neck.

He shifts slightly, testing my readiness for him. I moan and press back against him, and he begins to slide in and out of me. I can't hold back the sounds that erupt from my throat when he picks up in the speed and intensity of his thrusts.

One of his hands slides back down my body to play with my engorged clit, and it quickly becomes too much for me. After two more swipes, I come again, crying his name and clamping down hard around him.

But as I come down from my high, I realize that the flood of warmth I'd felt in our previous couplings didn't come this time. And he's still rock-hard inside me.

"Is something wrong, Draco?" I ask after catching my breath.

He kisses my neck and slowly eases out of me.

The ropes around my wrists disappear, and I turn around on shaky legs, finally getting another look at him. I reach up and touch his cheek—his jaw is clenched, and I can tell he's controlling himself. I kiss his lips softly, and he takes a small step forward, pushing me back against the wall and giving me an extremely thorough kiss.

Then, without warning, he lifts me up. I squeal with surprise, and then I'm impaled on him again.

"The bed's—right—over there—" I manage to say between his thrusts.

He covers my mouth with his, swallowing any other words that I might have wanted to say, not that I could remember them anymore.

The pleasure is so great that it seems to be bordering on pain, but I can't stop myself from yielding, from responding. My hips meet his thrust for thrust, and I grip his shoulders tightly. I drag my nails lightly down his back, and he hisses.

"Do—that—again," he grunts without slowing his pace.

I rake my nails down his back again, harder this time. He groans and increases the pace and force of his thrusts, forcing me to make terribly loud noises.

"Fuck," he grits. "Can't hold on—rub yourself."

I obey without thinking—I'm beyond thought. One of my hands keeps a grip on his shoulder while the other snakes down between us and begins to rub at my clit. I feel myself tensing up rapidly, but I manage to lift my eyes to look at his face.

He grunts lightly as he thrusts. His face holds such a look of pleasure—eyes screwed shut, lips slightly parted, breaths ragged and uneven.

"Come, Draco," I pant. "Come."

At my command, he seems to lose all semblance of control, exploding inside me with a cry of my name. He continues thrusting erratically through his release, and after two more rubs, I follow him into euphoria.

As his motion slowly stills, he drops his head onto my shoulder, trying to catch his breath. I feel like I can't disentangle myself from him—I don't want to. I continue to cling to him, even though I know that he must feel just as lethargic as I do. I'm so relaxed, and perfectly content…

"Can you walk?" he asks when his breathing has evened out.

"I don't know," I admit.

He chuckles, and the rich sound is wonderful to my ears. He pulls out of me and carries me away from the wall and over to the bed, where he sets me down gently.

"That was… amazing."

He smirks and crawls up beside me. "I know. I don't need you to stroke my ego, Hermione."

I punch him playfully, smiling. Then I lean over and kiss him.

I suppose my questions can wait until morning…

A light knock on the door rouses me from my sleep, and I glance sleepily in the direction of the door.

"Oi, Hermione? Malfoy?"

It's Harry.

I close my eyes, nuzzle into his neck, and inhale deeply, taking in the scent that is uniquely Draco.

"Hermione?" Harry calls out again.

Partially beneath me, Draco stirs and stretches slightly. I feel a light kiss on the top of my head, and I respond by shifting downward, changing the angle of my head slightly, and planting an open-mouthed kiss at the base of his neck.

Draco groans, and his arms suddenly wrap around me, trapping me against him. He rolls us over and grins down at me like a shark.

"Morning, Hermione," he says in a low voice that's still a bit raspy from sleep.

His lips come down on mine, and I can't think of any other place in the world that I would rather be.

Harry knocks on the door again. "Hello? Are you two awake in there?"

I reluctantly lower my chin a bit, breaking our kiss. I meet Draco's eyes and see that he looks slightly put out. The expression on his face is adorable, and I hold back the urge to tell him so.

"What do you want, Potter?" he calls out.

"Are you two busy?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course we're busy," Draco says, grinning at me.

"It's just that everyone's going to Hogwarts to celebrate Voldemort's fall, and… Malfoy, I couldn't have done it without you," Harry says.

"Not to be rude," Draco says, "but I think we'd rather stay here and fuck."

"Draco!" I exclaim, pushing at his chest and sitting up.

"Erm…" Harry begins awkwardly from outside.

"We're coming, Harry. We'll be there soon," I say.

Draco heaves a sigh as I get off the bed and walk toward my clothes. I grab my wand and cast a Scouring Charm on myself—it'll have to do until I can shower.

"Draco, come on," I urge.

"I don't want to," he says, flopping onto his back and stretching languidly. He looks up at me with a small smile. "Come back soon."

I reach down and grab his hands to pull him up, but he yanks me back onto the bed instead.

"Draco, I want you to come with me. Don't you want people to know—"

"I can't go anyway," he says. "Death Eater boundary, remember?"

"We can Floo there," I say. "I'm sure Harry already took that into consideration."

"Fine, I'll go. For you."

"How sweet."

I get to my feet and toss his clothing at him, but he throws it right back at me and goes to the wardrobe to pick out a clean set of clothing.

When we're both fully dressed, he turns to face me. "You'd better be nice to me when we get back, or this'll be the last thing I do for you," he threatens teasingly as he turns and heads for the door.

I smile. "I'm always nice to you."

I reach out and smack his arse, and he glances back at me, grinning.

"I like that you're getting more daring."

"I learn fast," I respond, winking at him.

Next thing on my list of things to learn is how to read Draco like Blaise does.

His hand wraps around mine, and it feels so big and warm. I smile and follow him out of the room. He turns toward the fireplace, but I stop walking, and he turns back to look at me, a bit confused.

"Wait just a minute," I tell him, pulling my hand away and moving toward the kitchen.

"What?"

"I think it's about time we took Ron back to Hogwarts."

Draco frowns, and I realize that he probably got the wrong idea. I'm not just releasing him…

"His mother still hasn't heard what he's done," I say to clarify.

This puts a grin on Draco's face.

As I open the kitchen door, the fireplace bursts to life, and I turn to see Harry's head floating in the flames.

"Here, come on," he says.

"One minute," I say to Harry. "We're going to bring Ron back to Hogwarts."

When I turn to face the kitchen, I see that Ron is looking at me hopefully. How does he always manage to convince himself that I'll have forgiven him since the last time I saw him? I consider leaving him there for another day or two.

No, I'll just get it over with.

"Scourgify," I mutter, pointing my wand at him.

Then I release him from the wall, and he falls onto shaky, slightly weak legs—it almost looks like he's forgotten how to walk, and for a moment, I struggle to hold back laughter.

"Can I have my wand back, Hermione?" he asks me.

"You'll have to ask Draco. I don't have it," I say, turning away and walking over to my blond.

I pause. My blond. Merlin, I really am getting possessive.

He smiles at me as I reach him, and I take his hand in both of mine, knowing that if I initiate contact, it'll infuriate Ron even more.

"Malfoy, give me back my wand," Ron says as he moves into the living room.

"Nope. I don't want to," Draco says easily. Then he turns toward the fireplace. "Let's not keep Potter waiting."

Ron looks over and sees Harry's head in the fireplace. "Make him give me back my wand, Harry," he says.

"How old are you, Ron?" Harry asks, exasperation evident on his face. "Just come on."

Ron glares at both of us before stepping into the flames.

Draco squeezes my hand, and I look up at him. He's reluctant to go back to Hogwarts because of all the things that had happened there, I realize. It's not just because he doesn't want to participate in the celebration. It's because of his memories of the place.

I smile reassuringly and lean up to kiss his cheek.

"Draco, you do belong at this celebration," I tell him. "I've forgiven you for everything you did to me in school. And Harry has too, I'm sure. I know that this might not be enough for the long run, but it should be enough for now."

He shakes his head minutely. "Where did you come from, witch?"

What does he mean?

I open my mouth to voice the question, but his lips capture mine, and I'm blissfully distracted.

Harry clears his throat, and I start to back up, but Draco's arm holds me to him, refusing to let me back away. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him holding a finger up in Harry's direction, telling him to wait.

God, the things this man can do with his tongue…

When he finally comes up for air, I almost want to tell him just to take me back into the bedroom. The celebration can go to hell—I just want to be with him. But now that the worst is over, we'll have the rest of our lives to be together. I can spare a few hours at Hogwarts.

"Are you two finished yet?" Harry says.

I glance over to see that his face is a bit strained. I wonder if it's difficult for him to see me kissing Draco Malfoy… after all, Draco had been quite a prat back in school.

"I suppose so," Draco says, turning to face the fireplace.

His hand slides down my arm to take my hand again, and we walk through the fireplace together.

On the other side, we're greeted by Professor McGonagall.

"Welcome, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," she says with a warm smile.

Draco smiles politely. "Hello, Professor."

"I'd like a private word with Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall says to Harry.

"I'll take Ron down to the Great Hall, then," Harry says.

Ron's glaring at us, but I can tell that he doesn't want to explode in front of McGonagall. When Harry pulls him out of the room, he goes without complaint.

"Miss Granger, you can stay," McGonagall says before I can head for the exit.

I smile. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter told me what you volunteered to do, for us. I—"

"With all due respect, it wasn't for you," Draco interrupts.

"For whatever reason, I am grateful," McGonagall says. "Also, we rounded up a good number of Death Eaters—close to two hundred. The trap was a wonderful idea."

What trap? I'll make him explain this to me when he has the chance.

"What happened to the rest?" Draco asks.

"There was a secret exit route," McGonagall says with a sigh. "We don't know how many of them made it out. Nevertheless, I'd like to thank you for that as well."

"I didn't—"

"Mr. Nott told me who to thank for his act."

Oh, so this "trap" was the "separate mission" that Draco had sent Nott on.

"You're welcome, then," Draco says, nodding. "And what happened to Rowle?"

"He was killed by your aunt," McGonagall says. "At least, that's what the Death Eaters at the scene said, when we asked. They were all furious with him."

"Shame. He was actually quite helpful to me," Draco says.

It's surprising yet completely unsurprising that Draco takes death so calmly. I suppose the war has had that effect on all of us…

"Well. Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, you can go. The others are in the Great Hall," McGonagall says.

"Thank you, Professor," I say with a smile.

Draco nods once in her direction, and we exit the room.

"You're going to have to explain every part of that damned plan of yours, eventually," I tell Draco.

"I won't—"

"Hey. There isn't any point in secrecy anymore. Like you said, it's over. You don't have to keep secrets from me," I say.

"Fine. I'll answer your questions about the plan," he says.

I guess it's a start. If I can get him to start talking about something, I'll eventually get him to open up about other things. At least, that's what I hope will happen. He's bound to loosen up in the end, isn't he?

When we reach the Great Hall, Harry breaks out of the crowd to greet us. Surprisingly, no one follows him. But then I realize that they're all still looking in this direction with interest, and I suppose they're only not coming because Harry specifically told them not to.

"I didn't want to ruin the night for Mrs. Weasley," he says in a low voice.

"Ah, so you haven't told her about what her son did to Hermione," Draco says.

"No, not yet. I just… I'll let him go for tonight. Consider it a grace period," Harry says. "Tomorrow, I'll—"

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

Heads that had been facing our direction immediately snap back toward the interior of the Great Hall, and Harry, Draco, and I all hurry over to the entrance, hoping to see what's happening. I know that that was Molly Weasley's voice.

Then Ron is blasted high up into the air and lands on his arse.

Shocked silence fills the hall.

A moment later, Fred and George start laughing. When the twins start laughing, everyone else seems to take it as a sign that it's okay to laugh.

Mrs. Weasley crosses the distance between her and her son. Then she grabs his ear and tugs him to his feet, and I begin to hear the murmurs in the hall—everyone's speculating about what he could have done. Mrs. Weasley, meanwhile, is furiously whispering into Ron's ear.

"Wonder what she's saying," Draco says.

"Well… I guess he's lucky she's trying not to disturb everyone too much," Harry says. "Otherwise, I bet all of us would be able to hear every single word."

Draco chuckles. "Yes, I remember that Howler, too."

Then I notice that Mrs. Weasley has led Ron out of the room.

"Are you two ready for this?" I ask them with a sigh.

Harry only shrugs. I guess he's gotten some tolerance for these types of gatherings.

"I'd really rather go home," Draco says.

"We're here already," I tell him. "If you're a good boy, I'll take you up to visit Blaise."

"Can we just skip to visiting Blaise?"

I roll my eyes and start walking straight into the Great Hall, pulling Draco along with me.

Clasping his hand tightly in mine, I prepare myself for the onslaught of questions we will undoubtedly get about our new relationship.

Author's Note: I still have a few chapters left in store for you guys (a few as in more than five, and less than ten). So we really are getting close…

Oh, and in case you don't check my profile (I know the majority of you guys probably don't), a reader, VampireQueenBrittany, made a poster for Turncoat. As I said on my profile, I really liked it, so I decided to share it with you guys, since you've stuck around for so long :)

This is the link: i110 . photobucket . com/albums/n106/watchh_out_i_bite/TurncoatPoster . jpg

Don't forget to delete the spaces before and after the dots.

Actually, now I'm thinking about finding an "official" poster (or banner?) for Turncoat, since I'm getting close to finishing it. I guess having an image to represent the story won't really change it at all… but it'd be cool to see what people come up with.

So if any of you guys are interested in doing a photo manipulation, send me a PM. I haven't done images for any of my stories before, but I think I could figure something out (posting the link back in Chapter 1, and probably on my profile as well… something like that).