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Forty-seven Tears	By : bluesunshine24 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 6530 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in the Harry Potter universe nor do I own any part of this fandom, including the characters of Draco and Hermione. I most definitely am not making any money from this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Settling on Sex
- 1
A/N: This was my very first one ever and pretty please review.

It wasn't as if she had never expected to see him again; but, in some small part of her mind he no longer existed, they did not inhabit the same universe. That notion must have been why when she walked past a muggle cafe and he was there-a bagel halfway to his mouth -she cried. Not sobbing and making an obnoxious scene, but large, silent tears.

He watched her for a moment too long before he cocked his head in invitation to join him. He met her at the door automatically steering her to the seat opposite him, and passing her a handkerchief. "For fucksake, Hermione, spare us both and stop crying," he said quietly.

She did stop, but she noticed his voiced lacked any of its former maliciousness. "Why are you here?"

"Breakfast."

She snorted, "I asked why, not what you are doing."

He ignored her repeated question and took a bite instead; his eyes locked on her as he chewed. Hermione stared back. He was different she decided: tall, pale, lean, angular, yes, but also somewhat softer. He wasn't sneering; he didn't hold himself so stiffly. He looked tousled, as if he had remembered that he was a young man and not expected to be perfectly dressed for every occasion. Though, he still looked confident if not a little jaded. "Ass," she murmured.

The corners of his mouth twitched up and she blushed furiously. He sighed, "I'm here three times a week before my shift." He could sense her surprise, her disbelief as she discovered him again after so many years in a wholly new context. "I've seen you a few times," he added, "you look...healthy."

"That's a strange way to compliment someone," she smiled.

"It was more an observation than a compliment." Her eyes darkened but the laughter didn't die. He gave her a wan smile before dropping money on the table and turning to leave.

She found him there a week later, and this time she did not wait for his invitation. He looked unsurprised, almost curious, "something I can do for you, Miss Granger?"

"You can eat breakfast with me." She gave him an earnest look; it was just as much a question as a plea.

He raised an eyebrow, "something less intrusive on my part?"

His eyes flickered to her; she looked fantastically sad. She motioned for the waiter to come over giving the woman a cheery smile as she took their order. "Do you know her, our waitress?" He ignored her retreating behind his paper. "Malfoy?" she whispered, a little breathless and timid.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, let's talk about why you're really here and not the bloody waitress" His voice came out as a hiss, far angrier than he intended. She watched the rain, her face turned away from him.

What did she want from Malfoy? She had come here, practically stalked the café in her attempts to meet him again. She had only half-truths and snapshots of an explanation. Immediately she felt compelled to be honest, to relay all of the messiness despite its incoherency. She was unhappy and a little jaded herself. Ron, even on a good day had been an ass. Their relationship was a mockery of intimacy. She told Ron she was done, that things simply were not working. He hadn't put up a fight. She felt betrayed, let down by their lack of flair even as they were ending a five year relationship; after, their friendship had been shaky, comfortable, and then a disaster. All of this she tried to convey to Draco with a deep sigh.

He leaned across the table and kissed her as gently, and she didn't pull away. He let his hand trace the column of her neck, and ghosted his lips across her cheek. At that, she did pull away. It was too tender, "I don't want your pity," she snapped.

He kissed her again, hard and demanding, and wrapped his hand around her throat. "What you want, and need, is a good fuck." He raised an eyebrow at her, his fingers dancing along the lines of her wrist and thumb, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut.

She moaned at the touch already breathless, "Draco-" She was cut off when their sunny waitress appeared with their food. He ate slowly keeping his eyes locked on her; his hands touched any skin he could reasonably reach: hand, knee, thigh, throat, lips.

He was amazed at his own boldness, but once he touched her, he couldn't stop. Gods, her skin was so soft and she flushed just the right shade of pink under his caresses, and her mouth was so warm when he pressed his lips to hers. He knew he wasn't going to stop; he had nothing to lose. And, maybe a little part of it was his old ego. He had always been vain and five years had taken away none of his former arrogance. He wanted Hermione Granger in his bed, and it was obvious she wanted to be there.

He felt a certain hollowness at being so honest with himself. Was he that empty? Is he so very damaged? He pushed aside his past, and with no small effort kept the awful memories at bay. For him they were blank spots that he had pushed so deep down that seeing her in the café window had physically hurt him.

The first time was a windy day, and her hair had been everywhere. She did not see him, and that gave him the freedom to roam her body with his eyes. She looked thin and rosy, but altogether well. Her breasts were high and round, and in the cold, the nipples stood out wonderfully. That was the first time. He saw her twice more before she cried for him. He knew exactly what every tear meant and what his happiness, or lack of, had cost her. He felt ashamed and furious. At her, himself, and the whole goddamned world, because when he was a boy he thought his life was perfect, that he just had to follow the path and happiness was guaranteed. What total and complete shit. Looking back he would have done it all again. He had been happy though.

He was an appalling child, callous and hurtful but seeing Hermione cry seemed terrible. His father had made his mother cry with sharp words and an even sharper hand. He had not wanted that particular foible for himself. Yet, they seemed locked into a sick pattern, always ending in her tears. Those same ridiculously big tears falling forward like raindrops. Years ago he had counted them: 47. For each one he alternated between rage and elation. His rage, aimed at her, because that dumb bitch had just sat there and taken it. Instead of fighting back she had cried, fled him like a coward and she was a Gryffindor.

He knew she was every bit as talented as he himself. The elation shamed him now. He discovered a power within himself, and it was thrilling. He was eloquent-also a gift from his father. He knew the exact words that made a person's heart shatter. He had paraded this talent to anyone who cared to see and spared no words when he wanted to put on a show.

On that first day in the café he was angry again. Those goddamned tears. Still, this time was different. They were older and he could see newness in her. The hate was gone. They were people, who accidently met, having known each other years ago. He was not happy to see her though and he knew that she would never accept an apology but that didn't change his desire to give one. Draco: being humble. She would laugh. A voice in his head told him he didn't care. Another voice, a more logical one, told him that an apology was too little too late.

Well then, fuck that because he didn't feel bad anymore. His body was numb. What he had done was horrid, but until this moment, he had been able to make amends in his own way. He didn't like the way he felt pressured to suddenly be a saint.

She would never accept his apology. Could she sense his newness as well? He was no longer that person, that boy. They both knew he wouldn't take back the things he had done; he would also never do them again.

So, he had kissed her and felt her creamy skin and moaned into her mouth. She either didn't understand or else was ashamed, and she snapped at him. "I don't want your pity."

He felt his own ire rising up, and something much more primal. When he captured her lips again it was hard and needy. When he wrapped his hand around her throat, it wasn't a stretch to imagine squeezing hard enough to make her squirm under him. His eyes smiled when he spoke in a soft whisper to her, "what you want, and need, is a good fuck." She was shocked. Her pale skin flushed and her breath coming in soft huffs. He raised his eyebrow daring her to deny it.

When their breakfast came, he was semi-hard and hungry in a very different sort of way. Whether she liked it or not Draco touched her everywhere. His fingers tracing her lower lip then her jaw line and thigh. She hadn't touched her fruit, and later he might recall this and give a shit but right now all he wanted was to be inside her, pressed against her, their hips grinding together. In his whole life, he had never hated wizarding laws more…not being able to apparate in front of muggles. What the fuck was memory wipe for? He dropped what was sure to be too much money and shoved her out the door ahead of him. He nearly dragging her several yards before flinging her against the nearest wall and pressing himself into her. He was going to fuck her, even if it had to be in the middle of the sidewalk.

She wouldn't have said no, not that he gave her a chance- dragging her out of the restaurant and rutting against her in the middle of a sidewalk. The tragedy was she didn't even care; if this is how he wanted it then… They were on something soft but she didn't open her eyes, just concentrated on the feel of his groin rubbing against her.

He snaked a hand up her thigh rubbing rough circles over her clit. With a flick of his wrist, she was naked in front of him, and he groaned in appreciation. She was all creamy skin and soft curves. He wanted to turn her world upside down. He dipped his head and bit her pink nipple. He was beginning to love the way she whimpered under his touch; his world narrowed and she was the center.

She pushed his shirt off, tracing the chest wide scar he had. She pushed his head away and ran her tongue over his chest. She licked again when he gasped. And he pinched her clit, "oh, fuck, yes," she ground out. She felt him push two fingers up deep within her and she needed had to come soon.

"What do you want," he hissed, licking down her throat. "Do you want to come?" God knows he did. He bucked hard against her, demonstrating how bad he wanted to be inside her. He rocked his hips against hers more gently as he pumped three fingers inside her, finally sending her over the edge. She melted, murmuring his name and a slew of dirty phrases. He pushed her to the pillows and with more calm than he felt tugged his jeans off. He reached for her nearest body part, wanting and needing to feel the friction against his prick. "Fuck," his groan gained a small smile from her.

She wanted to come again when she saw him kneeling over her. His eyes filled with heat, need, and demands. When his cock sprang free, they both moaned. She tilted her hips to him groaning when he didn't immediately fuck her. He brushed her calf against groin, but it wasn't enough. "More," she whispered and helplessly arched. "Damn it, Draco, please." She sounded needy even to herself; but, right now she wanted him more than anything to slam into her until she was unconscious.

He circled her clit with the head of his cock, and damn this would not last long. He pinned her arms above her head and shoved into her. It was all he could do not to come just from being inside of her. He felt her start to clench around him again, "not yet," he hissed pinching her nipples. She looked up at him with glassy eyes and a 'do me harder' expression. And, god, yes, anything to make her moan and shatter around him.

He was so hard inside her. She wanted to come, had almost come and then he stopped her with a look and a pinch. She locked her legs around his waist and dragged his lips to hers.

He couldn't hold off any more, not with her mimicking his thrust with her tongue, and moaning, and fingering his balls like that. "Oh, fuck come for me Granger."

She came for him and tugged hard on his silky tresses calling his name.

He felt the clenching and heard his name- that was all it took before he was pouring himself into her so hard he was seeing spots. All he could do was bite down on her neck and growl her name.

Draco couldn't say repentant but he could give her a wild ride and a world in which to escape. It was best this way. He didn't want love and with her, he would never receive any. He would spend his whole life paying penitence for those forty-seven tears. Was this what he deserved?

Hermione wouldn't forgive him but she would let him fuck her silly and enjoy every minute of motives were crystal fucking clear…this was the best she was going to get. Her hopes were too high and her heart too easily broken. Hermione didn't expect anything of Draco and he had broken her heart the first time he made her cry. Did her tears hurt him more than her?
- 1
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Forty-seven Tears