A/N: Hello again, lovies! I just want to mention that this is the last of my pre-written chapters. I have some good ideas for the next couple chappies, so I might be able to put those together in one week, but I can't guarantee it. I might only be able to update once every two weeks, depending on if the ideas flow out of my head the right way on the first go, and if I can stay motivated to write most nights. I know this is going to sound like begging, but I'm going to say it anyway because it's true. It really does motivate me every time I read a review, so every review counts. The best part of my week is coming home from work the day after I posted, knowing there are so many reviews waiting to be read. I love reading your input and comments on the chapters, so please don't hesitate to write me a line or twenty!
Speaking of Reviews:
viola1701e - As you'll see in this chapter, yes, yes he does. I'm so glad you mentioned Professor Morgana, Narcissa, Harry and Ron, because this is the last chapter that will have Hermione and Draco in their own little bubble. From here on out, Hermione will start having more contact with her friends, though you'll have to stay tuned to see how. As for Morwena and Narcissa, they will play a very important part, as you've guessed, but I have yet to decide if it's going to be sooner rather than later. Would you rather me focus more on Harry, Ron, and Ginny, or bring in Narcissa and Morwena soon? Everyone can let me know what think about that, since the next chapter isn't concrete yet.
Kermit304 - Thank you! I admit I was a little worried I might have been over-explaining the battle between the boys, but if you liked it as it was, then I shall not change a thing. Thank you for letting me know!
nikif - At first I was concerned I might not be able to find a place for the plant you mentioned because it was so specific, but I did eventually get inspiration enough to sneak it in, so thank you for suggesting it. It kept me entertained by forcing me to do some research on it, and I learned a decent amount about the whole Smilax family in the process. Also, you don't know this about me, but if someone writes/says something in another language in front of me, I get this unquenchable desire to know what was said that bothers me until I translate it myself or forget about it. In your case, I found a good online French-English dictionary and came up with a translation I think makes sense. You can tell me if I'm right or not. You wrote: "et comme je suis française, une pointe de mot doux soufflé à l'oreille rend la chose plus divine." I translated to: "and as I am french, a hint of sweet word breathed into the ear yields the thing most heavenly." Am I close? Please tell me! I haven't taken a single French class in my life, so I could be completely wrong.
Booklover9477 - Yay! I'm so glad you liked it. Honestly, the interactions between Hermione and Draco are what drew me to the pairing in the first place, and firmly keep me a devout Dramione shipper. They're both so witty and opinionated that there's too much good material to work with to ignore. They could argue literally about anything and everything! I bet you could give them a completely harmless word like "waffles" and they'd find a way to argue about it, whether it's what topping is best or where they originated. Reading Dramione banter just makes me smile, so I'm glad I can make you smile, too! And yes, there is plenty more plot to come!
bea bianca - Well, thank you for reading and reviewing! Honestly, I wouldn't blame you if you don't read the original. It might be too heartbreaking for you to get invested in it and then get to the last posted chapter just to get frustrated because it never got finished. I absolutely love the feeling of falling in love with a story, so it makes me so happy to know I could do that for you! I know what you mean. I have a whole folder devoted to fantastic Dramione fics I want to read again, and the number is so small compared to how many fics I've read over the years. I intended to make this fic meaty and juicy 'cause those are the stories I like best. So I promise I will keep it that way! Feel free to let me know if you think I'm slacking off in that department, because I want this story to be good the whole way through!
yellowzinnias - Wow, thank you so much! I admit I have been curious about the Julia Quinn novels. It's one of those things that I've wanted to try but never got around to, so maybe next time I'm at the bookstore I'll pick one up. Do you have any specific recommendations? I know exactly what you mean! I read this one story where Lavender challenged Hermione to an erotic dancing contest atop the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall during lunchtime. Naturally, Hermione won because she's awesome, but at the same time I couldn't help but think that Hermione just isn't that coordinated. I mean, she can't actually be good at everything because then she'd be a boring Mary Sue. And Mary Sue-ism aside, Hermione would never do that in public, no matter how provoked. She's way too self-conscious for that in my opinion. So, it was a fun read because I was in the mood for something different at the time, but it wasn't realistic at all. Yay! Yes, please don't give up quite yet! There are good stories out there; you just have to keep looking! I can even recommend a few of my favorites in a pm if you're interested. Hee Hee. Yes, I am female, by the way. Here's another chappie for you!
Banana101 - As I said above, each and every review makes me happy, so thank you for reviewing! I can certainly include more Devon and Mona if you'd like!
theonethatlived - Thank you! Diablo-lessness? Blasphemy! Physics, ew. Though I'm biased because my Advanced Physics teacher was a super-nice guy but a terrible teacher, so I gave up on trying to understand it after that.
L - Thank you so much! Hopefully you'll like this chappie, too!
~~~\~~~
Step 8: Allowing the Illusion
Malfoys, like all proud bachelors, delude themselves that they are not in love. Whenever they feel themselves falling into the trap, i.e. when they can no longer fight the desire to get you into their beds, they will try their best to create the illusion that the attraction is purely physical. Why they do this, we sensible women will never know. Suffice it to say that Malfoys, being the mule-headed males that they are, will try their best to convince themselves, and you, that all they want is sex. I suggest that you allow this illusion so that you can take full advantage of the benefits. There is no reason to deny yourself the best sex of your life simply because he refuses to profess his undying devotion to you. You will be in for a rough ride, however, when your Malfoy can no longer deny the extent of his feelings for you. But take heart in that, eventually, fighting all the way, he will finally give in to the truth, whatever it may be.
~~~\~~~
The next month felt like a blur to Hermione, a haze of worrying about her potion's trials at St. Mungo's and Malfoy's attempts to shag the worry out of her every chance he got. After the first week of almost non-stop shagging, Hermione confessed to him she was concerned that they might have accidentally ingested a very powerful lust potion featuring smilax myosotiflora. Malfoy merely smirked and used the following week to engage her in several experiments, in which he employed logic as well as his expertise, to prove otherwise.
By the end of March, Hermione was certain that Malfoy could very easily shag her to death, as there were no signs of his insatiable libido waning anytime soon. But she wasn't necessarily going to do anything about it, given that she was still relishing every second of their adventures.
There was something very curious about this new development in their relationship, however. When Malfoy wasn't in her knickers or passed out in exhaustion, he was hardly ever at the manor. At first, Hermione had chalked it up to him doing the business he was here to do, negotiating about his great-aunt's assets, which was fine with her. But it didn't change. It wasn't so long ago that Malfoy had set aside whole days to follow her around and bother her, yet suddenly, as soon as they became frequently physical, he was out and about every moment of his spare time.
Granted, Hermione had to admit that they spent a fair amount of time each day together, so it wasn't quite that he was avoiding her. Instead, it was as if he was avoiding the result of their actions when they weren't fornicating on various pieces of furniture and sundry surfaces. It was as if he had suddenly severed all emotional connections aside from lust. She had never realized how emotionally connected they had been until he removed that aspect of their relationship completely. On the one hand, it wouldn't be healthy to base an emotional connection for a relationship on past hatred and a constant desire to insult each other. On the other hand, wouldn't having an emotional connection be better than completely lacking one?
It was a question that had been aimlessly bouncing around in her head for the last month, yet she never found the time to ask him his opinion. Partly because he was far too adept at turning her into a nymphomaniac with a mere touch, and partly because she had never experienced this type of sexual thrill with anyone else, so she wasn't exactly keen on bringing up anything that might make it stop.
On a dreary Wednesday evening, she was trying to get into a large book on French Polynesian plants and their origins, particularly focused on whether they would make good potions ingredients, but she only managed a couple chapters about the Red Ginger Lily before her thoughts found their way back to Malfoy. They were both being extremely selfish, she finally decided. Malfoy wanted sex without the obligations the label 'boyfriend' entailed, and she wanted all the pleasurable feelings his attention evoked. Especially the fantastic orgasms, naturally.
But, of course, she knew it wouldn't be enough for much longer. While the retelling of her love life couldn't even be considered a short essay, it was still long enough for a short answer. She had enough experience to know that she would never be satisfied with only sex, just like she hadn't been satisfied with only emotion. She wanted them both. She wanted it all.
So was the sex good enough to keep pretending that she didn't want it all?
Yes, yes it was. But that didn't stop her from wondering how it would finally end. Malfoy wasn't the type to let go of a good deal when he had it. If he ended it, it would be to move on to the next woman and more fantastic sex. But Hermione wanted more than that. She didn't want to move from bloke to bloke like she were vacationing in the south of France, fully expecting to never see them again.
Come to think of it, was there even a chance that Malfoy would want to be eternal shag-buddies? She assumed he would eventually get bored with her and then move on. But what if she were the one to move on? Would he get jealous again? Would it drive him to finally admit that he liked her for more than just her body?
Probably not. It would send him into another rage and he would likely manipulate every possible rival into giving up. He was possessive like that.
Of course, it was incredibly wishful thinking to hope that he would admit his feelings, whatever they were. Thanks to Devon, it was exceedingly obvious that Malfoy wanted her for more than just sex, yet she couldn't for the life of her puzzle out how he continued on, oblivious to his own feelings. Or worse, he recognized his feelings but ignored them, waiting for the day he didn't feel them anymore. But what could he possibly gain from that? He knew that she was already falling for him, right? Then again, he was a bloke...
The loud boom of the dining room doors closing jerked Hermione from her reverie. She twisted around in her chair and felt blood rush to her cheeks.
Malfoy quickly scanned the room and smirked at her. "Waiting for someone?"
Hermione turned back around and stared back at her book. "Your aunt. She said she'd be down in a minute."
"And how many minutes ago was that?" he asked, amused.
She shrugged. "Twenty, maybe?"
"My money's on that monstrosity of a cat you used to own. She'd coddle him for all eternity if she had her way."
She shot him a glare at his unkind reminder of her former pet's abandonment. She suddenly remembered why she had fought her attraction to him so much. Any sort of relationship with him, sexual or otherwise, was bound to drive one to homicide. Nothing stopped him from being a git.
"Right, then. I'll just take dinner in my room, since there's no need for me down here," she replied haughtily, snapping the book closed and standing up to leave.
As she expected, he moved in front of her to counter said exit attempt. "That particular conclusion happens to be erroneous," he corrected airily.
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, and then parted her lips in realization when he sent her a wicked grin. She blushed and wet her lips, avoiding his gaze. She clutched the book tightly against her chest.
"Oh."
He chuckled. "I find it incredibly amusing that you still pretend you don't want me as much as I want you. You do realize it only makes me want to push for more, don't you?"
Her eyes shot back up to his and narrowed. "I don't pretend anything, Malfoy. I simply choose not to flaunt myself like a common tart."
He raised an eyebrow. "If I were a tart, you wouldn't be able to afford me. You ought to be grateful I don't charge you for my services."
It was as perfect an opening as she was ever going to get, so, in a fit of rage, she took it.
"Then perhaps I don't require your services after all!" she huffed, storming off around him to get to the door.
His hand shot out to stop her before she reached the door and he sighed. "Granger, when are you finally going to accept that you can't resist me? You tried that already, remember?" he drawled.
She whipped around and gave him a death glare. "This isn't about resisting you, Ferret. This is about self-respect. I refuse to have relations with someone who deems it appropriate to insult me whenever he's feeling particularly witty!"
All light-hearted pretenses disappeared in an instant. "I believe you implied I was a tart first," he replied coldly.
"You conveniently forget that was after you so kindly reminded me that my cat abandoned me for someone else."
He studied her for a long moment then. "This isn't about me insulting you; I've always done that. This is about something else, isn't it?" he declared.
Her moment of hesitation was enough.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, gently grasped her arm, led her back to the chair she had vacated, and sat down in the chair next to hers. He leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and stretched out his legs.
"Alright then. Out with it. What's got your knickers in a bunch?"
She merely pursed her lips and glared at him, holding her book tighter to her own chest. She only pretended to be mad enough to give him the silent glare. In truth, she really didn't know what was going on. She didn't want to give him up, yet she was simultaneously disgusted with herself for settling for an emotionless relationship when sex was supposed to be about passion and love. She almost wished that he had been immature enough to keep taunting her so she could slap him and storm out. That's what the younger Malfoy would have done, so she didn't fail to notice that he had come a long way from being that boy.
She didn't dare try to break off their...fling, but the chances of Malfoy wanting to be her boyfriend were negative. It was so unlikely, it defied the laws of probability. How could she even begin to say that without sounding desperate for a boyfriend, or for him?
She couldn't, so she continued to glare at him for being so difficult.
***/***
He stared back unflinchingly. "Granger, my meetings have all concluded for the day, so I assure you I could spend all day here. You might as well start talking."
Granger shifted uncomfortably in her seat before holding herself still and looking elsewhere.
This was precisely why he didn't want a girlfriend. They always brought up some drama that was completely melodramatic and unnecessary, dragging him into it just because they could. Granted, he never took Granger for the sort, but he did know that she nagged a lot, so clearly she was female.
"I'm not happy," she said abruptly, placing her book on the table.
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I got that from your general demeanor," he drawled.
She sighed in irritation. "No, I mean with us. This...thing, whatever it is. I'm not happy with it. I've already wasted enough breath saying I don't want you, so fine. I admit it. I want you still. But I can't just have casual sex like you can!" Her voice got more and more confident as she went on, gradually increasing in volume. She rose from her seat and started pacing.
She glared at him accusingly. "Call me a stereotype if you wish, but I can't have a sexual relationship without emotion, and it seems like you've been emotionally avoiding me every chance you get. You come home, seduce me, and then either sleep and leave before I'm up in the morning, or you just get up and leave then! What am I supposed to think, Malfoy? What am I supposed to do? Just pretend you actually feel anything for me? You make me feel like a tart. That is what's bothering me!"
Draco laughed. "Granger, you are anything but a tart. You do realize how long it took me to persuade you to this point? You weren't easy in any sense of the word."
She rolled her eyes. "That's not the point. The point is I am at this point and I feel...I feel...dirty and used. Like I'm some handkerchief you stow in your pocket and then take out briefly only when you need it. I want a full relationship, and if you can't give that to me, then I don't see the point in continuing this."
He narrowed his eyes. "Or what? You're going to find someone else?" he sneered.
Just the thought of her denying his claim was filling him with rage. She was his, dammit. He thought he had been making that perfectly clear. She didn't want anyone else, and to be perfectly honest, neither did he.
She raised her chin defiantly. "Yes. If you can't give me what I need, then I'm going elsewhere. Simple as that."
"Simple as that," he repeated softly.
He stood up and swiftly moved in front of her, gathering her into his arms. She let out a surprised noise that struck him as possibly the cutest sound he had ever heard.
"You are mine, Granger. No one else's. I don't share," he nearly hissed into her ear. He tightened his hold on her as it crossed his mind that she might be entirely serious.
She stiffened, but he could tell from the slight shifting of her body that she was trying not to melt into him.
"Then start being more open with me or I won't be yours at all," she declared in a steely tone. Her voice was slightly muffled from her face practically being smushed into his chest, but the message was as clear and painful as a mirror shard.
He started rubbing her back, waiting for her to relax. She seemed to like the idea of leaving him more and more as she talked, so he would just have to remind her why she didn't want to.
"You can't just go back to not being mine, Granger," he whispered seductively. "Even if you do manage to persuade me to let you go, you'll still want me."
She sighed and melted into him. "I don't care," she groaned into his chest "I can't do this anymore. I need more, Malfoy. I just do. Be honest. Can you give that to me?"
He didn't know what to say, because he honestly didn't know the answer. Part of the reason he had been avoiding her in his spare time was because he didn't know how to be in a meaningful relationship. Every past relationship had always been strictly sexual and/or political. From the very start to the very end, he had known exactly what he was going to get out of it and how to make that happen. Only goody-two-shoes Gryffindors ever dated because they actually liked the person. And they always came up with some silly way of romanticizing it, like saying that person 'enriched their soul' or something equally ridiculous.
Then again, why was he so afraid of having a true, serious conversation with her? He had never been so nervous around one of his peers, especially a female. He'd never felt so...inferior. Only Hermione bloody Granger could make him feel like he wasn't good enough. Maybe it was because he had been forced to watch her torture in his own ancestral home. Maybe it was because he had only managed to out-mark her in Potions class. Maybe, just maybe, it was because he truly, actually liked her.
She was strong, beautiful, feisty, determined, cunning, and brave, but not reckless. She was logical, like him, but just as passionate and filled with sympathy for others. One minute she could be as calculating as a cynical Slytherin, and the next, sobbing over something he had said like a bleeding-heart Gryffindor. But she was also as thirsty for knowledge as a ravenous Ravenclaw and as trusting as those poufy Hufflepuffs. She was the essence of Hogwarts incarnate. Like every other student, Draco had thought of Hogwarts as a refuge from home, especially after the war. It symbolized strength, security, and just all-around Good. He himself had made possible a coup from the inside, and Hogwarts as a whole still hadn't fallen. With everything she had been through, Granger was still alive and sane. He needed a portable Hogwarts, someone stable yet challenging. She was perfect.
But what if he agreed to be more with her and then bulloxed it all up? Well, it probably wouldn't be as bad as not having her at all. But she was right, and he should have seen this coming a kilometer off. She wasn't the type to just give into her urges for any extended time. She always had to think things out logically, and she needed an emotional support system. She did deserve his honesty, at the very least, but she wasn't going to like the answers.
"I don't know," he said eventually.
She pulled away just enough to blink up at him in surprise. Had she expected him to lie?
"Oh," she replied softly, leaning her head back down.
He frowned. She had. She had expected him to lie to her face about it, or maybe be cruelly honest. She hadn't expected a simple, neutral answer. The no-longer-tiny part of him that worried and cared about her felt a rush of disappointment. She didn't think very highly of him, but had he ever done anything she would deem praiseworthy? Fantastic. Now he felt guilty. He nearly growled. She was the only witch in the world who could drag so many emotions out of him in one conversation. Not even his mother could manipulate him so easily, and that made him angry. And sad, and guilty, and humble. He didn't deserve her, but he refused to give her up. He had worked so hard to get her this close to him, and by Merlin's saggy ballsack he was going to find a way to keep her, too.
How, well, he didn't know quite yet. But he'd find a way. A Malfoy always got what he wanted, one way or another, and he wanted her to be his in every way possible.
***/***
He didn't know.
Well, that was probably the most honest answer he could have possibly given her. Points to him for resisting the urge to lie.
It felt like she was being stabbed in the chest by a tiny dagger, but at least he was honest about it.
How had she even gotten here? She was so much smarter than this. At what point had she decided to throw out all common sense and give herself to him?
Oh, right. She hadn't decided anything, because that implied that she had actually weighed the options and picked one. She didn't feel like she'd had a choice at all, except maybe give in now or give in later.
For what felt like the millionth time, she cursed his existence. She knew there was a psychological phenomenon where, if one was exposed to a really stupid person, one could actually feel oneself becoming stupider. Likewise, if one spent time with an excellent conversationalist, one could feel much smarter than usual. But she could not remember anyone saying they had felt both effects with the same person.
Malfoy made her feel like her brain was connected to a switch. Whenever he spoke, her brain flipped on, but whenever they touched, it flipped off. But if it were a simple matter of staying away from him, she would have never surrendered in the first place. No, her life was always much more complicated than that.
She actually liked not thinking. It was a nice little seaside vacation for her to just lie back and take everything he would give, and then pounce on him until she'd had her fill. It was an incredible feeling to ride the waves of lust all the way until they crashed on the shore, then swim back out and do it all again. They occupied each other for hours before slipping into a blissfully exhausted sleep.
And then she always woke up alone. Surely he didn't always have early morning meetings? Surely he could have chosen to stay just once to wake up next to her?
She sighed. She had been so sure that he loved her, at least a little. But then why wouldn't he spend more time with her? She had made the same mistake every woman in the history of the human race had made. She had thought she could change a man.
She had somehow let herself believe that loving him would catch like a cold, that he would suddenly wake up one morning and realize he was in love with her, too. She had mistaken his love of sex and possessive nature as symptoms of his romantic feelings for her. In reality, he was just an amorous, jealous womanizer. Thank Merlin her friends hadn't been here for this.
She was ashamed of her attraction to him, so how the hell did she expect to even have a normal relationship with him?
Answer: exposure to him made her an idiot.
He didn't want to be her boyfriend and he never would. As he had already told her once, he would say anything to get out of a disadvantageous situation. How could she build any sort of trust with someone like that?
She needed to stay away. She needed someone to talk some sense into her. She needed to see Devon. It had been too long since they'd talked, all because Mr. Insatiable over here believed it was never too early or too late for sex.
Now that she thought about it, she had felt awfully confined, like he had been constantly exhausting her on purpose so she'd never go anywhere. Did he really think she'd let him keep her prisoner, like a living sex toy, always available when he wanted it?
The more she thought about it, the more furious she became. She had been completely wrong about him. He was the same Malfoy as always, wanting what he wanted, when he wanted it, with zero regard for anyone else.
She was lucky he hadn't gotten sick of her yet, or he'd probably have convinced his aunt to kick her to the curb.
She was a strong, capable woman. She was Hermione bloody Granger, Brightest Witch of the Age. She refused to be locked up and subjugated like this. Sure, he was incredibly persuasive, but now she was onto his game. She would not be fooled again!
She suddenly yanked herself out of Malfoy's grip and backed up several feet, her arms wrapped around her stomach to prevent herself from doing something really stupid like reaching out for him.
He frowned at her and made to close the distance.
"Stop," she commanded forcefully, glaring at him.
Surprisingly, he obeyed, waiting for her to explain herself.
"I can't, Malfoy. I can't take it anymore. I thank you for being honest with me for once, but it's not good enough. I need a boyfriend who is willing and able to be with me physically and emotionally. I've had enough of just one or the other."
He snorted. "Be serious, Hermione. We've been over this."
"I'm more serious than you'll ever be. And yes, I know. As you love to remind me, you've successfully seduced me over and over. Congratulations! You've gotten what you wanted. Well, I'm ready to get what I want. I don't want this."
"What, mind-blowing sex?"
"This is exactly what I'm talking about!" she raged. "You keep messing with me like I'm your personal entertainment system! You keep me exhausted so I don't go anywhere, you insult me whenever you feel like it, which is nearly all the time, and all you can think about is sex! We haven't had an actual conversation in...God, I don't even know how long."
He raised an eyebrow. "We just had one, right over there," he contradicted, indicating the dining table.
"And before today?" she challenged.
He paused to consider it.
"You don't know, do you? Because you were rarely here to actually have a conversation with!"
She took a couple deep breaths, resisting the urge to hex him for being an idiot, and making her one, too.
"We're done, Malfoy. I'm calling it off, right now."
"Just like that?" he asked emotionlessly.
"Just like that," she confirmed.
"No, we're not done," he countered, as confidently as if they were arguing over whether the color teal was bluish-green or greenish-blue.
"Yes, we are," she insisted. "If one person wants out, there is no association anymore. It doesn't matter whether you agree with me or not. I'm leaving now, and you are not going to stop me, or so help me God I will hex you."
She took out her wand and trained it on him, holding it steady the whole way past him. She safely reached the door and yanked it open, turning her back on him.
"This still isn't over, Hermione!" he called after her.
~~~\~~~
When Hermione walked into the diner, Devon immediately smiled and waved her over to the counter, where he was chatting with Mona.
"Hermione! And where exactly have you been for the past month? Shagging Mr. Smooth's brains out, I hope?"
Mona blushed enough for all of them, even though she was only listening.
Hermione smirked a little, and suddenly realized that a month ago, she would have been as red as Mona was, but now she didn't even blink. She mentally shrugged, blaming it on Malfoy. Life was so much easier when everything was his fault.
But that reminded her of exactly why everything was his fault, which put her right back into a foul mood. She sighed.
"Before you even ask, he's being a prat again, and I need to get away from him for a while. I'm sorry for essentially abandoning you two the past month. Draco and I were attempting to sort things out."
Devon raised his eyebrows. "Attempting, as in failing?"
She nodded. "I knew when I first got involved with him that he's prejudiced against committed relationships, and that I need one to be happy. I got involved anyway, and now I'm reaping what I've sewn. He's doesn't understand why it has to be all or nothing. But I can't enjoy an emotionless relationship outside of the physical moments. I've tried," she blew out some air petulantly, "but I just can't. I need more, but he can't give it. I'm giving up."
Devon frowned angrily. "I told that plonker not to mess with you. I guess that's what I get for trusting him. You want me to set him straight?"
Hermione smiled a little. He reminded her of Harry sometimes, and it was a nice feeling, but it also brought along melancholy that she wouldn't be able to talk to him for some time yet. She had gotten her monthly letter from her friends, and was happy that they were all still in the running, but missed them terribly. She almost wished one of them lost so they could come home and comfort her. Then again, she'd have to explain everything that had happened, and she had hoped to avoid that completely, especially with Harry and Ron. Ginny would be able to give her good advice, but the girl told Harry everything, and Hermione would rather that her boys heard the story from her directly, rather than second-hand. Ginny had a tendency to exaggerate.
She shook her head, focusing back on the subject at hand. She smiled wider at the thought of Devon punching Malfoy in the face to teach him a lesson, as Harry and Ron had longed to for so many years.
"Thanks, but that won't help anything."
There was also the fact that Malfoy could curse Devon into a peacock before the poor boy could get a single punch in.
"You sure? I've a mean right hook." Devon faked punching the air like a professional boxer.
Hermione chuckled. "I'm positive. I'm sorry to say he's a much better fighter than you, and frankly, you don't stand a chance of beating him. I'd be carting you off to the hospital if you tried."
Devon shrugged. "Yeah? Well, I'd take him down with me. Just say the word, and I'll track him down and give him what-for."
She almost burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of a muggle tracking down a wizard for a fistfight, but kept her amusement in check.
"Thank you for the support."
He grinned. "Anytime."
Then he cleared his throat. "Actually, speaking of support, I was hoping that, now you're here, you might be able to help me again."
Hermione tilted her head curiously. "With what?"
He glanced at Mona, who gave him a warm smile and a nod.
"So, you remember my mum? She wanted to have you come over again. Do you think you have time for dinner with us?"
Hermione smiled, wondering why he had been so nervous to ask that. Maybe he had thought she didn't want to be his friend anymore because she hadn't seen him in a while.
"Of course. My night's free, so I'd love to come. Is Mona joining us?"
She glanced at the girl, who busied herself with cleaning the counter and refilling the teapot.
"Er, no. Mona's not joining us tonight. She's working a double shift. What do you say we get going? My mum would love it if you showed up early. She keeps asking me when you'll come around again."
Hermione chuckled. The woman reminded her of Molly Weasley when she let her motherly side show. "Alright."
They said goodbye to Mona and started walking toward Edna's house, chatting amiably.
The only problem was that she noticed Devon getting more and more nervous as they approached their destination. She had no clue why he would be acting so strangely and had finally had enough. She stopped him about a block from the house.
"Devon, what's wrong? You're fiddling with your pockets like you might suddenly find something you'd lost," she observed with concern.
Devon smiled weakly. "Er, well, Hermione, I haven't been completely honest with you."
Hermione frowned, waiting for him to continue.
He took a deep breath. "I'm...er, I...you see..." he sighed.
"My mum doesn't know," he blurted. "About Mona. Or Draco. Or anything. I never told her the truth."
Hermione's mouth dropped. "She still thinks we're dating?"
He nodded, shamefacedly staring at the ground.
"Devon!" she reprimanded.
He winced. "I'm sorry! I tried to tell her, I wanted to. But she keeps talking about how lucky I am you're with me and how she just knows you'll be the best daughter-in-law ever and I just can't bring myself to crush her hopes like that."
"But she loves Mona! I'm sure she'll be perfectly happy with her."
He grimaced. "Not as much as she loves you."
Hermione frowned, confused. "But how can she love me so much when I've only met her once? I mean, she hardly knows anything about me!"
Devon shrugged, shuffling from one foot to the other. "I dunno. But will you please play along, Hermione? I know you have absolutely no reason to, and I should just tell my mum, but she's so...happy. She hasn't even talked about marriage yet, which means she's too enraptured with you to care when we marry. That's never happened before. I just want to enjoy the peace while it lasts, yeah?"
Hermione sighed, knowing she was already going to help him against her better judgment. She was a sucker for pathetic begging all because of Harry and Ron.
"Oh alright. I'll play along just this once, but you really need to tell her, Devon."
He grinned sheepishly. "Or, you could break up with me tonight."
Hermione gaped. "I am not breaking up with you in front of your mother!"
"Please?" he begged. "It'll make it all so much easier! She won't like you as much anymore, so Mona will be great in comparison! I mean, Mona's not even in the same league as you! She needs some sort of advantage for my mum to like the idea of her. She's too shy and reserved to show my mum how good she is."
Hermione blushed at the high compliment, and admitted that the flattery, mixed with logic, was working.
"I'll only do it if I feel comfortable with it at the time, but no promises," she declared.
He sighed in relief. "That's the best I can ask for, so thanks. I really mean it, Hermione. You're amazing."
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, linking it with hers.
"Come on. Let's go get this dinner over with."
~~~\~~~
"Hermione dear!" Edna screeched happily as the two walked into the house, hand-in-hand.
Hermione winced as the woman practically smothered her in a hug. She was in full-Mrs.-Weasley-mode.
"Hello, Edna," she returned bravely.
"How are things coming at the flat? I hope you've been tiding up the place as it should be? Devon always has a nasty habit of leaving his towels on the floor in the bathroom, so I apologize. I tried to teach him better, but you know how boys are in their teens..."
As Edna rambled for her forgiveness about Devon's terrible manners, Hermione shot Devon a glare. Apparently, they had already moved in together, after only a month!
Devon smiled meekly, asking for her forgiveness himself.
Dinner wasn't any better. There was a landscape painting on the wall opposite her of a white sand beach at sunset with dolphins jumping out of the water. It was a lovely painting, and Hermione was tempted to lose herself in its beauty so she didn't have to be so uncomfortable the whole time. The only thing that stopped her was the fear of Devon digging the giant hole he was in even deeper if left unchecked.
It seemed as if Edna had nothing but praise for how Hermione was putting up with her "lovable slob of a boy." There were some promising moments where Edna interrogated her son about what they'd been doing the past month, and how they had divided the chores.
"Because Lord knows the boy is hopeless in the kitchen, but he can vacuum," she remarked to Hermione.
Hermione wished that Devon would slip and say that Mona was good at one thing or another so they could stop the torture, but she completely understood why he hadn't said anything yet. The woman's jubilant demeanor was simultaneously infectious and oppressive. It was almost a weapon of subjugation all on its own. She hoped the woman only used her powers for the forces of Good.
Eventually, the rambling was over. In place of it stood an awkward silence punctured with startlingly observant questions.
"Hermione, dear, why haven't you kissed Devon yet this evening?" for example. "Did he say something offensive again? Lord knows the boy couldn't sweet-talk a nice girl to save his life."
"Mum," Devon groaned.
Hermione blushed. She desperately hoped that his mother meant a chaste kiss on the cheek. Anything more than that, and she would start to wonder if the woman had more wrong with her than she had originally thought.
"What?" Edna asked, obliviously. "You held hands when you came in, but she hasn't touched you since. You must have done something wrong to make her withdraw her affection-"
Before she could come up with several more reasons why it was all Devon's fault, Hermione leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
"Please don't worry, Edna. He's done nothing wrong. I was just worried that you might not like me being overaffectionate with him," Hermione supplied.
Devon shot her a deeply relieved and grateful look. She smiled back at him warmly.
"Oh, Hermione! That's absolute nonsense. I know what you two do behind closed doors, as everyone else does it, too. Affection is nothing to be ashamed of! Now go on and give him a nice big kiss so he knows you're not cross with him."
Hermione winced, eyeing Devon's reaction. She very much hoped he would think of a way out of this. While he wasn't unattractive by any definition, she did not feel comfortable kissing anyone in front of their mother, desperate friend or not.
But the defeated look in his eyes told her, no, he had no miracle to pull out of a hat to avoid the situation. They would have to kiss. Really kiss.
He leaned in and whispered, "Just dive in and do it. Don't think or it won't be convincing."
She had half a mind to come clean with his mother right there, but she reasoned that it wouldn't be so bad. It wasn't like it was her first kiss or anything special. Just one kiss to help a friend in need. Neither of them had romantic feelings for the other, so there was no danger there.
Before she could think up a reason to stop him, he lightly pressed his lips to hers.
She consciously opened her mouth a little to give him enough room for a good performance, but nothing more.
As she went through the motions of kissing him for about ten seconds, she noticed several things.
One, there was nothing. It was the most clinical kiss she could have ever imagined and then some. There was no need for more contact, no desire to stay there forever, and more importantly, no want. She could have been kissing her toothbrush. In fact, she was greatly relieved when they thought it was safe to stop.
Two, if it made her feel anything at all, it was guilt. She felt like she was cheating, which was ridiculous, because Draco didn't believe in exclusive dating. It was against his religion. Then again, he did get awfully upset whenever she mentioned spending time with any male that wasn't him. But even so, she had officially broken up with him, if she could even use that term for a fling.
Three, she couldn't have focused on the kiss itself if she tried. Her thoughts wandered to Draco's addicting embraces. She wished she were kissing him, instead. She suddenly realized the pure chemistry between them was far more unique than she had thought. At least when she was with Ron, she had felt something because she had cared for him romantically. But knowing that this...nothingness was possible...it only highlighted how intense her relationship with Draco was. Every time the ferret was in her general vicinity, her body always had some sort of physical reaction, like it was calibrated specifically to gravitate toward him. But here she was kissing a perfectly nice bloke, and her body didn't even twitch.
Four, just the thought of Draco made her feel warmer. She imagined them lying in a meadow, their skin warm from sunshine and tickled by the grass as they snogged. She imagined him sliding his hands stealthily into her trousers to quickly squeeze her cheeks, one of his little reminders that she belonged to him. She reveled in his possessiveness in the bedroom, metaphorically speaking, as they weren't confined to bedrooms. He was never distant with her, always staring into her eyes as he pleasured her, watching and making sure she was experiencing the highest pleasure he could give her without overloading her. He had said once that passing out from pleasure was never good, because then one missed out during the time they were unconscious. He was a great advocate of the saying, "time is money," or in those cases, "time is bliss."
They had finally broken the kiss, but now Draco's seductive smirk was stuck in her head, and she couldn't shake the need building inside her. She needed him inside her, bringing her to the edge and hovering there until she dove over. Dear Merlin, she was addicted. It had only been a few days and now she felt her body begging for just one more hit. She had one thought of him, and now she was practically burning up as her insides clenched hopefully. All she had to do was go back to the Manor, find him, and give him that one look he loved so much. The look said, 'I'm going to go lie down, naked, and pleasure myself. Just so you know. Feel free to stop by if you have a spare moment.' That look always set him off, practically tackling her onto the bed, or whatever was the nearest flat surface, and ripping her clothes off as quickly as possible. Those times were really fun.
She snapped out of her reverie when Devon started snapping his fingers in front of her face.
"Hermione?" he asked worriedly.
Edna laughed proudly. "Now that was a kiss. The poor girl is too stunned to respond!"
Before Hermione could pull herself together properly, there was a loud knocking at the door.
Devon shot up. "I'll get it." He practically ran to the door, thankful for the distraction.
Strangely, Devon instantly started whispering at the person.
"...and I promise to explain! Just don't get angry-" she heard Devon say frantically.
"Don't. Get. Angry?" the other person said disbelievingly, his tense voice just barely controlled.
Hermione's eyes widened. She'd know that condescending tone anywhere.
Fuck.
She stood up quickly as Draco practically shoved Devon aside.
"Pardon my intrusion, Madam. I've come to collect my girlfriend," he announced to Edna, daring anyone to argue with him as his hand latched onto Hermione's arm.
Edna blinked and then glared, turning accusingly toward Hermione. "Girlfriend? So Rita was right about you all along! You... you, scarlet woman!"
Hermione was paralyzed by her mixed emotions. That was the second time a motherly figure had called her that. And who was Rita? She couldn't possibly mean...
"Rita Skeeter?" she asked dumbly.
"The very same!" Edna declared, building up steam. "Normally all she writes is rubbish, but I can't believe I fell for your spider web of lies!"
Hermione couldn't do anything but gawk. She was clearly hallucinating. Edna and Devon were muggles. They couldn't know who Rita Skeeter was, or that she had written that article about her in The Daily Prophet four years ago.
"And how dare you bring the son of Lucius Malfoy into my home!" the woman screeched. "Out! Get OUT!"
Devon ran over and literally shoved her and Draco out the front door, closing it behind them. A rook in a nearby tree cawed loudly, as if an echo of Edna.
In her shock, Hermione's mind ran over Devon's actions again, this time factoring in that he probably had known exactly who she was. Most of their interactions didn't seem any different, but it certainly explained why Edna had liked her so much. She had known who Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of the Age and Co-Defeater of Voldemort was. That's why she had been so happy that her son was dating her.
"You're a wizard?" she finally asked.
Devon sighed. "Squib, actually. My mum's a half-blood and my dad's a muggle-born, like you. They were disappointed when I didn't show any signs of magic by my fifth birthday, but they considered it a blessing in disguise. They didn't believe for a second that You-Know-Who had been truly defeated by a baby, so they decided to officially leave the Wizarding World and settle down as muggles, though my mum's been updated on important events through her old friends. She still owls them once in a while."
He took a deep breath. "And yes, I knew exactly who you were the moment I saw you, and him, too. I don't quite share my mum's hatred of everything Malfoy, but I've heard too many stories to be impartial."
He glared at Draco. "Just because I can't use a wand, doesn't mean I can't teach you to respect her, you know," he growled.
Draco scoffed. "You wish. I could hex you to the ground in half an instant. My clear superiority aside, it's rather amusing to hear you talk about respecting her, when you know she's already spoken for." He narrowed his eyes threateningly, "And you still kissed her." His hand traveled to his wand.
"She kissed me, too!" Devon defended.
Hermione rolled her eyes and held back Draco's eager hand with her own to prevent a bloody mess, in more ways than one.
Draco sneered. "She kissed you back because she pitied you. She wasn't enjoying it."
Devon puffed up. "Yeah? How do you know? Maybe she enjoyed it a little more than you think."
Draco stepped forward menacingly. "Maybe you're a flobberworm that's begging to be squashed by my boot."
"Boys!" Hermione yelled exasperatedly.
She yanked Draco back by his arm and stepped between them, keeping her hands on Draco's chest to hold him at bay. She knew Devon wouldn't actually attack, but she couldn't say the same for her boyfriend. Merlin, had he really called her his girlfriend?
She shook her head. She could analyze that to death that later. Right now Devon was in danger of being hexed off some good old, tall, English cliffs. She wouldn't put it past Draco to apparate them all there just so he could push an enemy off of them in some manly display of protecting what's his.
"Listen, both of you! Just stop, alright? No, Draco, stop!"
Draco tried to move around her and protect her at the same time, but she backed up and pushed her hand against his chest harder, dragging his attention to her.
"Devon was just riling you up; you know that, so calm down."
She turned to Devon. "It's probably better if we leave now. I'll go to the diner tomorrow so we can sort this out, but he needs to cool down first."
Devon nodded and went back inside his mother's house, leaving them alone outside the front door.
Hermione took a deep breath, steeling herself to deal with an infuriated Draco.
She turned to him, but before she could say a word, his wand was out, and he was apparating them away.
As soon as they landed, she yelled at him. "Draco! You can't just apparate in the middle of an open area like that! What if one of the neighbors had looked out their window at that exact moment! You could have just blatantly broken the Statute of Secrecy!"
She paused when she noticed that he was staring at her intently, but not listening to a single word. She glanced around and noticed he had apparated them to his room at Morgana Manor.
She looked back at him cautiously. "Draco?"
"You kissed him," he stated emotionlessly.
She blinked, feeling tiny tendrils of fear crawl around her stomach. Surely he wouldn't hurt her, would he?
She swallowed. "Yes."
He stepped forward and reached up.
She flinched instinctively, turning her head to the side and closing her eyes.
His fingers caressed her cheek before cupping it gently. She almost heard the flipped switch of her brain shutting off.
She slowly opened one eye and then the other, waiting for him to lash out.
He stroked the top of her cheek with his thumb.
She turned her face to him again, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of his fingertips.
In an instant, his other hand wrapped around her waist and yanked her bodily against him.
He leaned down to whisper into her ear.
"What," he hissed, "did I just tell you about being mine?"
Her eyes opened wide as she stared sightlessly at the wall behind him, hanging on his every word.
"Your body is mine to touch, your lips are mine to kiss, and your desire is mine to evoke. Mine and mine alone!"
The hand on her waist darted under her shirt to caress her spine in long strokes, using the precise amount of pressure that made her turn into something like a puddle of goo.
"Draco..." she breathed, lacking enough oxygen to moan properly.
"That's right, Princess. Mine is the only name you know how to speak."
The hand on her cheek slid into her hair and grabbed the roots, tilting her head to the side just so, allowing his lips to float across her neck, barely touching.
Hermione's hands latched onto his robes so she didn't just fall over whichever way gravity felt like. She had no idea how desire could make her feel weightless and heavy at the same time, but her mind blanked as his lips found the special spot at the base of her neck and shoulder. His tongue darted out to lick it, teasing her with what he was about to do.
She squirmed in his grip silently begging him to do it.
"Is there something you'd like to say?" he breathed huskily.
There were always these moments of snarkiness that made her want to yell and slap him, because they were designed to make her admit, out loud, her dependency on him and thus his superiority. He relished these moments and she absolutely loathed them, but she loved everything that came after, once she had properly debased herself.
She bit her lip, delaying the inevitable, but he grew impatient. The hand on her back slid down in her trousers and yanked her closer so she could feel his erection.
"Say it," he growled.
She nearly moaned at the delicious tension and knew she couldn't hold off any longer. Her body was begging him, but he wanted to hear the words.
"Please...take me, Draco. I'm yours and yours alone. I want you. I need you inside me."
He practically tossed her onto his bed before vanishing their clothes with a flick of his wand. One more swish prevented pregnancy and then the wand was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. He jumped onto her and settled himself between her thighs, teasing her with shallow thrusts.
She tried to maneuver him inside her, but he backed off each time she did.
After the fourth time he did this, she sat up and glared at him.
"Draco Malfoy, don't you dare-OH!"
In the middle of her rant, he smirked and thrust inside her, as deep as he could go.
The very moment afterward, she cursed him to high heaven for being such a manipulative prick, but every moment after that was filled with broken thoughts or complete blankness altogether.
She loved losing control with him, and watching him lose his own careful restraint.
He started off teasing, as usual. Several shallow strokes followed by one deep stroke, powerful enough to make her moan. But then she squeezed her inner walls around him and his perfect rhythm faltered, his cool grey eyes darkening to slate. She did it three times before provoking his inner caveman to claim her like he meant it.
"What's wrong, Malfoy? I'm still able to talk," she whispered.
Then he smirked and said, "Not for long, Princess," before nudging her legs in place and pounding into her so that he'd hit the same spot deep inside her with each thrust.
She didn't last long after that. Maybe a whole two minutes at most before a powerful orgasm washed over her, making her cry out his first name in ecstasy and cling to him. She vaguely registered him following soon after, but couldn't really focus on anything except the chemicals of pleasure flooding her system like morphine.
In a rare moment of lucidity while basking in the aftermath, she realized that they, together, were a chemical cocktail of bad ideas. They couldn't work. They could never work. No matter which way she looked at it, they were detrimental to the other's health. He was like a stash of her favorite candy, sitting harmlessly on the counter. Its mere presence constantly tempted her to the point of gluttony, and she rarely resisted.
If they continued indulging themselves in the other, they'd grow fat and addicted...metaphorically. Although, she honestly felt like a sex addict already. He was so good at it that the lows had her wishing she were anywhere he was, just so she could have one more hit to get her through until the next.
Hello. My name is Hermione Granger. I have a problem. I'm addicted to Draco Malfoy.
Admitting the existence of a problem was the first step, right?
She sighed. Out of all the males in the entire United Kingdom her body could have chosen, it had chosen Draco bloody Malfoy. For the nth time in her life, she cursed his existence. Around anyone else, she was perfectly level-headed and logical, just as her parents had raised her. But the moment Draco touched her, her brain might as well have been mashed potatoes because her libido woke with a ferocious yearning she could only barely control.
And the worst part (or best depending on her mood) was that he knew exactly how to take complete advantage of that to send her pleasure meter into triple digits.
For her own sanity, she had to give him up.
But he had finally called her his girlfriend! Was he actually ready to take on the responsibilities associated with the title of boyfriend, or had he merely been staking his claim, using the word to get what he wanted? It was probably the latter, but she stupidly held hope that just maybe it could be the former.
She needed to stop seeing him, but she didn't think she'd be able to stop herself. No wonder addicts needed support groups. This was bloody hard all on her own.
Okay, Hermione. You can do this. Just get out of the bed, put your clothes on, and dash back to your room. You can figure out what to do tomorrow, but you cannot let yourself get more attached until you know for sure he can be what you need. You can do this. They don't call you the Brightest Witch of the Age for nothing. You'll survive and make it through, with or without him.
With that little pep talk bolstering her, she quietly slid out of Draco's bed, dressed, and made her way back to her room before throwing on some nightwear and collapsing into her own bed. She wondered why the boy had to be so confusing on purpose, but didn't get a chance to list her theories before she fell asleep and dreamt of beached narwhals.
~~~\~~~
Predictably, Draco wasn't home the next morning. It made her more sure that they could never work, but also incredibly sad. He wanted her body, not her. But she was already hooked on him. How could she possibly stay away when he was so close all the time? At this point he knew every little quirk of her body's responses to him, so he was effectively irresistible. She was doomed.
To distract herself from impending self-pity, she decided to get a move on and go visit the diner. Devon had a lot of explaining to do.
~~~\~~~
A/N2: First, your prompts for next time are: a word that just sounds like it is or refers to something disgusting (no matter if it actually is or isn't), a word that's fun(ny) to say, and a word that you associate with 'love'. Second, a special thank you to MarchesaLace, who reminded me that this website is known for randomly taking down stories, so it is always wise to have a back-up archive somewhere. So, I made a LiveJournal to see if it works out. I'm a little peeved that some of my chapters are too long for one post, but I don't mind as much since I only plan on posting stories there anyway. Anywho, see my profile for the link. Until next time, hope you're well!