A/N: This angst in this chapter kind of ran away with itself so if that isn't your thing, feel free to skip
'And what is your mother going by again?'
'As I said, it's Ms Black now, but you really should just call her Narcissa.'
'Right, right. And this home belonged to the Black family?'
'Yes. Again, we've been over this.'
'I know. Um ... '
'What now?'
'You're sure I'm not under-dressed? Or over-dressed? Or - '
'Granger, so help me Gods!' He threw his hands up in exasperation, and immediately regretted it when she clasped her own hands together and twisted her fingers, her lip catching between her teeth. He turned to her, which was hard to do in the back of the small taxi, and let out a slow breath before continuing. 'I know you're anxious, and I know this feels like a lot. It feels like a lot for me, too. But - look at me, Princess.' Her eyes rose from the floor to meet his, and he nearly melted under the clear worry there but forced more command into his tone as he said, 'You've got. To. Stop.'
She held his gaze, and he saw the shift as his voice worked her the way it always had. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she untangled her fingers, closed her eyes and took a long, shuddering breath. As she blew it out, her lids flickered open and her gaze met his again, steadier than before, more confident. He slid his hand under her chin and tilted it up ever so slightly, registering the flash in her eyes at his touch.
'There's my girl,' he growled softly, running his thumb over her plump lower lip. 'And just so you know,' he added, pausing to take in the way that the long sleeved, tight fitting, purple woolen dress hugged her curves and dipped low enough to reveal her collar bones. 'You look positively edible.' She leaned towards him subconsciously and they got lost in their eye contact for a while, until the man in the front of the car cleared his throat.
'Jus' pullin' up now, Sir,' he grunted in a thick Northern accent.
'Thank you, Andrew,' Draco responded, flashing his most charming smile at the man through his rear-view mirror. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione stifling a giggle at the way the back of the man's neck turned slightly pink as he incoherently mumbled something about 'jus' doin' me job.'
Hermione had clearly been thrilled at the prospect of a non-magical journey when Draco told her that his mother hadn't been able to create a secure connection to the Floo network yet for the old, only recently inhabited house in the Lake District. And, as it had been many years since Draco had visited the place, he didn't feel confident enough to Apparate them safely. So, they'd Apparated from Hogsmeade to the closest town over the Scottish border, and she had organised them a taxi while Draco suspiciously surveyed the public phone box and Muggle money she'd used.
'Just here will do, Andrew,' Draco called as the man turned into the wide mouth of a gravel driveway, edged with high, thick hedges. He felt her stiffen beside him and reached for her hand, giving it a quick squeeze before exiting the car. As he leaned into the driver's window to hand Andrew the roll of Muggle money that Hermione had passed him before their trip, he heard her getting tentatively out of the car, her black knee-high boots crunching in the gravel as she walked around the front of the vehicle to wait for him. With a smile and a full-faced blush this time, Andrew reversed out of the gate and was gone. Draco waved his hand and the gate began to close. Finally, he turned to Hermione.
She was staring, transfixed, at the house. Draco looked up too, somewhat surprised by just how much of the building he recognised. But then again, he supposed his mother had probably restored the property to its former glory practically overnight.
It was a tall, three-story building, with white facing and black roof tiles. The window frames and doors were also black, and the whole place could have looked a little austere if it weren't for the garden. A sweeping green lawn bordered both sides of the driveway, and the high hedges that blocked the view into the property were no longer visible on this side of the fence. Instead, numerous rose bushes and climbing plants enclosed the grounds. Everything was in bloom, subject to ever-lasting charms, and the fragrances and colours gave the place an almost dream-like quality.
'It's beautiful,' she breathed, and he looked down to see her gazing around, wide-eyed.
'It certainly is,' he replied, catching her hand and bringing it up to his lips, his eyes still on her.
'It reminds me of Alice in Wonderland.'
'Another Muggle film?' She scrunched her nose up at his question, looking adorable in doing so.
'Well, yes, but I much preferred the books.'
'Why am I not surprised?' he teased, and began pulling her up the gravel path. She laughed and allowed him to lead her, some of the apprehension taken away by the atmosphere of the garden.
She fell into step beside him, her head turning constantly to take in each new plant that they passed on their way towards the house. The front door opened, and they both looked up to see Narcissa Black standing on the step, waving to them.
'Hello, darlings! Welcome!' she called, smiling warmly at them.
'Hello, Mother,' he replied as they approached, a broad smile on his own face. He stooped to catch her in his arms and lifted her off her feet as she laughed, hugging her son tightly, her long white hair flowing out in a fan behind her.
'Oh, I've missed you,' she sighed as he put her down, her hand resting on his cheek tenderly.
'I seem to recall that you sent me away rather abruptly, the last time you saw me,' he teased, and she narrowed her eyes at his mention of the way she'd dismissed him at Christmas.
'You were being exceptionally dense, Draco, and had left something very important behind,' she chastised, but he heard the joking lilt in her voice. She turned to Hermione and continued, with a smile, 'But you've brought her with you this time, so you can stay as long as you like.'
'Thank you for having me, Ms Black,' Hermione began. 'I - '
'Narcissa, darling, please.' The woman opened her arms and swept Hermione into them, hugging her tightly but briefly before letting her go and studying her face. 'You were right, Draco,' she went on, still looking at Hermione. 'The most stunning eyes.'
Hermione blushed, and Narcissa grinned at him as she looped arms with the girl and led her inside. He rolled his eyes in respose but followed them in, pushing the door closed behind them. He felt a small buzzing pulse run through the wood as the door clicked shut, and realised that his mother had set up strong wards around the building. He should have been prepared for that, but it saddened him. She was still living very much in fear.
Not that you might tell from the way she was chatting to Hermione as she led her into a large parlour room, decorated tastefully in creams and warm browns. The decor was so quintessentially his mother and so absolutely anti-Malfoy that he couldn't help but smile again. She was making her own mark on this place, heritage and surnames be damned.
'Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours. I do hope that's alright?' His mother deposited Hermione into a large, over-stuffed beige sofa before lowering herself into a cream high-backed armchair. She smoothed her long brown skirt over her knees and the die-hard habit of postural correction kicked in, leading her to straighten her back and cross her legs at the ankles.
'Perfect,' he replied, sliding into the sofa next to Hermione and sitting back against the comfortable cushions. He purposefully slouched as much as he dared, flashing her a grin when she sniffed at him.
'It's a beautiful house,' Hermione commented, and he heard the breathy quality in her words. His eyes slid to her and he noticed how upright she was, how tightly she was holding her shoulders. He watched her, ready to catch her if needed. 'And such a beautiful garden, too. I was just telling Draco that it reminded me of Alice in Wonderland. Do you know that story? Silly me, of course you don't, it's just an old Muggle story. But then again, there's no reason for me to assume that you don't know anything from Muggle culture. I'm sorry, that was incredibly rude of me, I - '
'OK, Granger, breathe,' he murmered as he slipped his hand to her lower back, gently stopping her increasingly rambling monologue. She took a deep breath in, smiling apologetically at Narcissa.
'Please, Hermione, don't be nervous.' His mother's voice and eyes were soft as she surveyed her, gaze flickering to where he was touching her. 'I want you to feel welcome in my home. Draco has told me quite a lot about you, and I'm very keen to learn more while you're here this weekend. Especially as what I mostly get from him comes with a healthy dose of pink cheeks and starry eyes,' she added, flashing a daring look at her son. He frowned at her and grunted, trying to ignore the heat he felt in his face. His mother laughed delightedly. 'Yes, just like that, but with none of that malice. Now, can I make anyone a hot drink?'
'I'd love a tea,' Hermione said weakly, clearly trying her best to return Narcissa's smile.
'Coffee, please, Mother.' She nodded at them both and left the room. They heard the sound of water running, and Hermione instantly withered, breathing hard. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her, scanning her eyes worriedly. 'What is it, Granger?'
'I just ... The last time I saw your mother was at your trial.'
'Oh.' He tried not to let her feel how his body had stiffened at the mention of that experience. She looked up at him, her eyes wet.
'Does she know about my letter?'
'Yes.' His concern and confusion grew as she crumpled further into herself.
'Then she knows I didn't come forward to speak on your behalf in person.'
'That is what you're worried about right now?' She nodded glumly, and he tilted her chin towards him with his long fingers, making her meet his eyes. 'Hermione, that was one of the bravest, most selfless things anyone has ever done on my behalf.' She opened her mouth to protest, but he pushed her chin up, closing it again. 'You took the time, when you really didn't need to, to write down every reason you could think of why I should be allowed to continue my life, free from incarceration. Thanks to you, and maybe only you, I was not only allowed to remain in society, but also given the opportunity to attend school again, the chance to gain qualifications and finally do something good with my life. And you are worrying about what my mother thinks of you because you chose not to do that in person?'
'Well,' she replied, still unconvinced. 'I suppose when you put it like that ... '
'Princess, I can promise you that you could turn my hair blue, you could Transfigure me, Hell, you could probably burn this house to the ground, and my mother will never be able to think anything bad about you.' Finally, she laughed, and her eyes and fingers raised to carress his hair.
'I wouldn't turn it blue,' she said, her lips still curled in a smile. 'Maybe ginger, though - ' He silenced her with a kiss, satisfied that her teasing meant that her nerves had been soothed. He nipped at her bottom lip playfully and pulled away, just as his mother returned with a tray laden with mugs and biscuits.
Hermione relaxed into the flow of conversation much easier after this. Narcissa asked her about her plans for after Hogwarts, and Hermione discussed joining the Ministry's Welfare of Magical Creatures department. Draco smirked at this, knowing that the poor innocent department wouldn't know what had hit it when the time came. He was secretly looking forward to its overnight radicalisation when she got her hands on those outdated laws. His mother took her plans in her stride and discussed the benefits of a Ministry role, carefully avoiding any mention of her ex-husband as she encouraged Hermione to follow her goals and ignore the old-fashioned men who may be scandalised by her. Hermione's face lit up at this, and he could already see her mentally preparing for the verbal jousting.
After their drinks were finished, his mother walked them through the house and the rest of the gardens. She had finished renovations in the grounds, but most of the house still stood bare, save the downstairs living areas, Narcissa's room and an elegent spare room, where they would be staying the night. Hermione ooh'd and ah'd appropriately at the interior design, and complemented Narcissa's eye for design.
They admired the kitchens, and Narcissa introduced her newly employed house elf, Grella, who shook Hermione's hand enthusiastically and squeaked that it was such an honour to meet her. Hermione seemed pleased by Grella's state of dress and overall wellbeing, and Draco grinned at his mother as she chatted animatedly to the elf for a while before he gently pulled her away to continue the tour.
The last room they entered was a large round room, situated at the top of a turret at the back of the house. Draco's heart had leapt to his mouth as he looked around. Canvasses were leaning against every wall, some with a few daubs of paint, some still clean, waiting for inspiration to strike. A large table sat in the middle of the room, the top of it buried under numerous pots of paint, a stack of dust-cloths, and tubs and tubs of brushes. His eyes raised to the bay window that made up the farthest wall of the room, and to the easel that stood before it. A canvas balanced there, and on it was a life-like rendition of the garden. The colours were vibrant, bold, the brush strokes confident. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He had vague memories of his mother painting as a child, but she'd given it up years ago.
'Narcissa, these are beautiful.' Hermione's hushed words filled the silence, the awe clear in her tone.
'Thank you, darling.' His mother's voice was strained, and he looked down to find her staring at him, her eyes apprehensive. Almost as though she needed his approval. His anger at his father flared white-hot in his chest, but he pushed it away, throwing an arm around her shoulders and squeezing.
'Beautiful,' he agreed, and she softened, leaning on him gratefully. After another moment of silence, a bell rang from somewhere downstairs, and she straightened herself.
'Dinner is ready! Let's see what Grella has whipped up tonight.'
It turned out to be a fine spread. They ate a starter of fried whitebait, and Hermione produced another bottle of Muggle wine from her beaded bag, to pair with the fish. They sipped the wine through into the main course, a rich beef stew accompanied with hot, crusty bread rolls. Draco watched his mother slathering butter over her bread and wiping her bowl with it, her etiquette thrown to the wind, and couldn't help but feel incredibly pleased that she was enough at ease with Hermione to let her guard drop.
Finally, Grella produced a hot chocolate pudding and coffee, announcing that she was retiring for the night and would clean the dishes in the morning. Draco looked at the clock on the mantlepiece of the dining room fireplace, surprised to find that it was almost 10pm. They must have been eating slowly as they chatted their way through dinner. They thanked the elf and she bowed out of the room, disappearing with a small pop.
They finished their meal, and each leaned back in their chairs, sipping the warm coffee and making satisfied comments about the dinner.
'This really is such a wonderful house, Narcissa,' Hermione said, for maybe the fifth time that day.
'Thank you, darling. I was very much in need of a change.'
'I think we all were,' Draco murmered, suddenly feeling a darkness take the edge off the comfortable buzz. Hermione's eyes flickered to him when she heard his tone, and her eyes were warning, but he carried on. 'Honestly, Mother, I don't know why you didn't burn the other place to the ground.' Narcissa stiffened, and placed her cup down before turning to her son.
'Because, despite what happened there, the place was still my home.'
'Your home?' He hadn't meant it to sound so bitter, and he recoiled slightly himself, but his mother didn't flinch.
'Yes. It was the place that I raised my son, and a place that still holds many fond memories for me.'
'Fond?' he spat, unable to shake the rage that was now building inside him. It wasn't directed at his mother, but she was bearing the brunt of it anyway. He tried to stop, but his mouth continued regardless. 'After what we witnessed there, you can really still think of it fondly? When we have a living reminder right here - ' he gestured to Hermione, who winced ' - of the evil things that happened in that vile place? Have you seen the damage that was done to her, Mother?'
Hermione squared her shoulders at him, her nostrils flaring. 'Draco, that's very unfair, I really don't think this is - '
'Hermione.' They both looked back to Narcissa, a little surprised by the interruption. She wiped her mouth delicately with her napkin before setting it on the table and fixing her gaze on Hermione. 'If it's not too unbearable, I think I would like to see it. I ... I feel that I was far too passive for far too long, and I need to be shown the consequences of my choices. To remind me to never let it happen again.'
The look that flashed across his mother's face extinguished his anger instantly and made his heart hurt with guilt. It was a look that he had seen many times in the mirror, mostly in the first few months after the war. Self-loathing. He realised that it was an emotion he did not experience all that often these days, and he felt his love for Hermione threaten to spill over as he understood that she was the catalyst for his being able to move on, to heal.
Hermione let out a shaky breath, and raised a trembling hand to her left sleeve. As she began to push it up, Narcissa stood and quietly walked around the table, until she stood next to Hermione's chair. Hermione rolled the sleeve over her elbow, and held her arm out, her eyes on Narcissa's palid face.
Narcissa sank to her knees at Hermione's side and raised her own hands, eyes flicking up to the girl's face, silently asking permission. Hermione nodded, and Narcissa took the arm in her hands and brought it closer to her face. She studied the scar for a long time, silver eyes examining the word that was still evident on the soft skin. Then she did something that surprised them further. She leant forward and kissed the scar.
Hermione met his eyes over his mother's bowed head, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. He knew she was thinking of the time he himself had done this, and he nodded, letting her know he was thinking of that, too. The tears fell then, and Hermione lowered her eyes again as Narcissa lifted her head to meet her gaze.
'Thank you,' she whispered. 'For being so brave, and so forgiving. I will never be able to express how grateful I am that, despite everything my family has done to you, you still saved my son. You saved him, much more than you will ever know, I think.' She embraced Hermione briefly, then got to her feet and turned to Draco. He stood to meet her and opened his arms, tucking her head under his chin as she held him close.
'I'm sorry, Mother.'
'No, darling, you're right. For too long I've been willing to look past the atrocities and disgraceful actions of those we were connected to, and my inaction was just as bad as action in those circumstances.' She pulled away and looked up at him, her hand rising to his cheek to wipe away a tear. 'You did a very good job with the healing spell, Draco,' she said, smiling at him. 'We'll make a fine Healer of you yet.'
He tried to repress the sob that threatened to tear from his chest at her words. He wanted to tell her that everything was alright, that she was blameless, that she didn't need to carry this with her. But he knew that it would be false to do so. He had had to face his own demons around his role over the previous years, and he felt stronger than ever for it. Perhaps it was time that she did so, too. He looked into his mother's eyes, now clearly seeing the hurt in them, and vowed that she would not have to face this alone. He'd had Hermione for support in his battles; his mother would have him.
Narcissa stepped away from Draco, squeezing his hand tightly before releasing him. 'I think I'll head up to bed, darlings,' she said, her voice sounding drained but sure. 'I have a few things to think about. I hope this hasn't spoiled the evening.'
'Not at all,' he murmered, stooping to press a kiss to her cheek. She smiled tiredly at him, then turned away, gently kissing the top of Hermione's head as she passed her on the way to the door.
'Goodnight,' Hermione called after her.
The door clicked shut behind her and, unbidden, the sob bubbled from him, unwilling to be contained any longer. He fell to his knees, tears pouring down his face, and felt soft arms embrace him, holding him together, stopping him from shattering entirely. He clung to those arms as they held him, caressed him, fingers running through his hair soothingly, a soft, comforting voice murmering in his ear as he cried.
He didn't know how long had passed when he finally came back to himself, but it had been long enough for their position to change. His lower body was now splayed out on the floor, his head against Hermione's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She was still running a hand through his hair, her other arm around his shoulders, her cheek pressed to the top of his head. He looked up at her blearly, and she looked back sadly before pressing a kiss to his forehead.
'Let's go to bed,' she murmered into his hairline. He nodded, and they stood, Hermione taking his hand and leading him gently to the bedroom that Narcissa had pointed out to them earlier. She opened the door for them and he kicked it shut behind him. They undressed in silence and climbed into the large bed, slipping between cool satin sheets. Draco reached for her and she automatically moved so that she was cuddled against his side, her head on his chest, one palm pressed against his sternum. They lay together for a while before he spoke.
'I don't want to be my father.' His voice was slightly raspy with emotion and fear. Her head snapped up and she stared at him, but didn't speak, letting him take his time. After a pause, he continued, 'He was always so unpredictable. His moods were dark and terrifying, and could go on for days. We almost walked on tiptoe, just in case we upset him. My mother used to paint, in the old house, but one day she tried to defend me when he was punishing me. He ... he burnt all of her paintings.'
Hermione sucked in a breath at this, but she remained silent, eyes fixed on his face.
'He's a vile, bigoted, pathetic excuse for a man, a husband and a father,' Draco spat, anger clogging his throat. 'And I idolised him. I wanted to be just like him, so much so that when I was admitted to Hogwarts I created a personality based on him. I lived out my fantasy of being just as powerful as I thought he was, just as above everyone else. But it was all a lie. I was just a scared child who would do anything to avoid being beaten by the person who was supposed to teach him how to be a man.' His breath hitched in another sob, but he had no tears left.
'You are not, and never will be, that man.' Her voice was low, and hard with hatred. He looked down to meet her eyes, and saw the fire burning in them. 'Your father is a pathetic example of a human being, let alone a man. You are kind, and empathetic, and understanding, and I have no doubt in my mind that that was why your father was so hard on you. Because he didn't know how to be those things, and I think that scared him.'
He squeezed her against him slightly, grateful for her words, but now that he had opened the gates he couldn't seem to stop. 'You saw what happened at dinner. I couldn't control myself. What if I'm like that in the future? What if I treat you the way he treated my mother? What if I treat our children the way he did me? What if it's just pre-determined, and all of the changes I've made over the last few months don't last and I just revert to that mask?'
She sat suddenly, and he blinked at her, surprised. She leant forward and cupped his face between her hands.
'Now you listen to me,' she said softly, her gaze intent on him. 'There is absolutely no way that that is going to happen. What happened at dinner, happened because we have been working through everything from the past few years. We have been healing, and you needed to show your mother that change is necessary. She will understand. As for reverting or developing those traits later in life, I don't think it would even be possible. You've just detailed to me everything you hated about your father, and as long you keep those things in mind then you will fight them. And you will never allow yourself to become that. You're strong, Draco, and I believe that you are intrinsically good. So, just keep being you.'
He reached up and grasped her hands, his eyes wet and a lump in his throat. He pulled her down for a tender kiss, and when she pulled back her smile made his heart skip. 'What would I do without you?' he murmered, reaching up to cup her jaw and running his thumb over her lips. She nipped at it playfully, her eyes dancing.
'You would probably suffer terribly and continue to hate yourself deeply for ever,' she said with a shrug, and he chuckled wearily. She settled back against him, but looked up at him, her eyes now tinted with mischief. 'Now, about those children of ours ... '
He woke the next morning, feeling much calmer than the night before. He enjoyed the warmth and the quiet while he woke up fully. Hermione was lying with her back against his chest, his arm was wound around her waist, his knees tucked up behind hers. He nuzzled his face into her hair and breathed her in, instantly feeling more grounded, and also more awake.
She stirred against him, and he moaned gently as her soft, round arse rubbed against his morning erection. She arched a little, and he wasn't sure if it was just to stretch her body or if she'd meant to tease him further. Suddenly, she moved as if to roll away.
'Mmm, don't get up yet.' He pulled her back against him and started to place lazy kisses against her warm neck, his hands now tracing patterns up her torso. She sighed and arched into his touch, but then she grabbed his hands to stop their wandering journey.
'We should probably at least show our faces before breakfast,' she laughed and carefully disentangled herself from his arms. She sat up, then made her way to the edge of the bed where she stood, and walked away from him. He groaned and flopped back onto the mattress, then raised his head and propped it up on his elbow to watch her naked body as she moved. She bent over to pick up her bag, and turned back towards the bed. His eyes raked over her hungrily.
'We could skip breakfast,' he murmered, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
'After all your lecturing to look after myself? I don't think so.' Her voice was teasing, and he felt his body respond. He bit the inside of his cheek, willing his face not to show his lust as she placed the bag on the bed and began rummaging through it.
'Can you blame me for suggesting it, when you look the way you do on a morning? Or at any time, truth be told.' She blushed slightly at his words, but he saw the small, pleased smile that graced her lips as she straightened up and began tackling her hair with her brush.
'I'm still very surprised that your mother is happy for us to share a bedroom,' she said, trying to change the topic as she pulled her curls back from her face and secured them in a high ponytail behind her head. He watched as her actions made her stretch her body out tantalisingly.
'Well, it's the way she was raised.' His voice was getting husky, and he cleared his throat to cover it. 'For generations, pureblood families have hosted dinner parties with the purpose of introducing an eligible son or daughter to the son or daughter of another family. It was encouraged that young, wealthy witches and wizards would spend the night together in their own wing of whichever house was hosting them. That way, if they ended up conceiving, there was legitimate reason to organise a shot-gun wedding and thus secure the futures and wealth of the two families.' She stared at him in shock, her expression doing nothing to reduce his desire.
'But that ... that's barbaric!' she spluttered.
'That's old money,' he shrugged. 'But I can't say I'm complaining.' He lunged from his position and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back onto the bed. She squealed, and he used her forward momentum to sweep her under him, settling between her thighs. Her protests turned into moans as he pressed his solid length against her folds and rolled his hips. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against her jaw as he growled, 'It looks like at least one old tradition is going to work in my favour.' He began kissing a trail down her throat and she sighed, her arms winding around his neck, her body melding to his.
'Well, as I told you last night, I don't intend on having children any time s- ' She broke off with a gasp as his mouth sealed around one of her nipples. Her eyes sparked with lust as she met his gaze, and he winked at her before nipping at the sensitive bud with his teeth. She whimpered, and her head fell back to the bed, her hands now gripping his shoulders.
'I suppose I could wait a few years,' he rumbled, releasing her flesh with a pop, then lapping at her nipple one more time. Her hips rolled against him, and he skated his hand down her side, across her stomach and lower, over her mound. He swiftly parted her folds and without warning, thrust his middle finger into her core, as deep as it would go. It was easy to do, as she was already very wet, and he growled against the skin of her other breast as he added another finger to her dripping heat and started to pump them in and out of her.
'You - nnng - you wouldn't stand to gain - ah - anything f-from our union anyway,' she panted, her eyes slightly glazed as her nails dug into the skin of his back. He frowned, unsure whether this was banter or insecurity, but his answer would have been the same either way.
'Au contrair, Granger,' he murmered, his voice smooth and firm, his fingers increasing in speed. 'I would gain exclusive rights to you at all times. I would gain the knowledge that I'll be the only person who can ever do this - ' here he pressed upwards inside her, against the spongy spot he could now find in the dark with his eyes closed, and she whimpered and clenched around him ' - to you. I would gain the pleasure of being able to repel all of those idiots whose mouths hang open as they stare at you when you pass. I would gain the power to show the whole world that you are mine, and I am yours. In short, I would gain everything I could and would ever possibly want. I would gain you.'
Her eyes sparkled as she stared at him, her cheeks flushed from his words, her breathing ragged from his fingers still inside her. She gripped him tighter, her hips bucking frantically against him, and whispered, 'Draco - '
'Cum for me.' His thumb came to rest against her clit, brushing across it with the motion of his hand, and she bit hard into her lower lip as the pleasure increased. 'Come on, give it to me. You feel so fucking good, I don't ever want to have to share you with anyone. I want you all for myself. Come on, Princess, let me hear you say my name, let me feel you cum just for me.'
Her head fell back as his words worked their usual magic and she came. Her walls pulsed around him, almost as though they were trying to pull him deeper, and she choked out his name in a halting whisper. He kept fucking her with his fingers until she slackened and her body relaxed against the mattress.
Snarling with the desire that flooded him at seeing her so well sated at his doing, he grasped her hips and flipped her over, face down onto the bed. She gasped, but was still too boneless to respond. He didn't mind. He lifted her hips slightly, then positioned himself so that he could slide into her while leaving her almost flat. She grunted under him as he filled her, stretching her with this angle, and she subconsciously pushed back against him, forcing the last of him into her.
They both groaned as his hips hit her backside, and he leaned forward to brace one palm against the headboard in front of him, the other buried in the pillows next to her head. She turned slightly so that she could look up at him.
'Fuck me,' she breathed, her eyes pleading. He instantly stilled.
'Ask me nicely.' He met her gaze, feeling a smirk pulling at his lips as he watched her under him, wild and wanton. She growled and tried to push back, but he used his hips to force her into the mattress. Her eyes rolled in her head before she returned her gaze to his face.
'Please, Draco, please fuck me. Please claim me, show me how you own me, mark me so that others can see it, too. Fuck me, please!'
'Fuck.' He hadn't expected her words to affect him so strongly, but when he felt himself pulse against her tight walls he could no longer hold back. He pulled out and ploughed straight back in, setting a hard, fast pace from the beginning. She mewled under him, arching her back so that she was spread more for him, and he gripped the wood of the headboard so hard that he heard something snap. He didn't know if it had been the bed or his fingers, but right now he didn't care. The bed began to groan in protest with each thrust, and he found that he was grunting in time. Sweat dripped from his face and onto her back, and she whimpered again at the feel of it.
The hand that had been on the pillows snaked under her neck and cupped her just under her chin. He pulled, and she scrambled up, propped up on straight forearms, her head tilted back, her upper back arched. Her posture made her open for him further and he felt himself sink impossibly deeper into her, causing them both to moan.
He lowered his head so that he could breathe in her ear, 'You're going to regret telling me to mark you, Princess. Hold on, I can feel you close you are.' She couldn't speak, her airway slightly restricted by his fingers gripping her. Realising this, he released her neck, and she gulped in a couple of breaths. It gave him an idea, and he reached around and thrust two fingers into her open mouth and down her throat. She choked on them slightly, but she had sucked his hard, thick cock often enough now that she adjusted quickly and was soon swallowing around his fingers. He rasped, 'OK, Granger, cum for me as I fuck you, just like you wanted. Come on, Princess, I want to feel that delicious, soaking, hot little cunt getting even tighter as you cum on my cock.' The words and his fingers sliding in and out of her throat with his movements seemed to trigger her and she was over the edge, a flood of her juices spilling slick around his aching shaft. He growled and leant forward, his back pressed flat against her, and as he came he sank his teeth into her neck. Hard.
She whined and swallowed around him, her walls still clenching, as he filled her with his cum, his hips snapping against her arse cheeks as he finished deep inside her. He hovered over her for a moment, then slipped his cock and fingers from her and collapsed next to her, panting. His muscles felt tight from their activities, and he suddenly realised what he'd done.
He hurriedly pushed her curls back from her face, and his stomach unclenched at the tired yet satisfied grin that stretched her lips. Her eyes were heavy-lidded but still alight with that molten flame. He chuckled, then his eyes fell to her neck, to the raised circular welt that was already starting to turn purple.
'Looks like you'll get your wish, Princess. I don't know if anyone is going to be able to miss that.'
