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Tuition Money	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 53032 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
A.N. Thank you to everyone reading and to the people who took the time to leave such lovely and thoughtful reviews: staar, Dragon_Maiden, General Crow, Trelweny, MargeW76, sherlocked17, Mocha Midnight, Malfoy'sgirl, HarryGinny4eva, ilariasantaniello, Lady_Valdemort, aisukurimu, Y, and Kayleigh.

**EDIT: I got pinged by the moderators for excessively long author’s notes. Eek! Please go to the AFF forum for my review replies. Here’s the link:

http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/59048-review-replies-for-tuition-money/
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Hermione gingerly removed herself from Draco’s lap. Turning, she gave him a brittle smile.
“I think I’m going to turn in.”
He nodded and she retreated to the bedroom.
Fuck! Why did I say anything? She told me she wasn’t ready for this.
He wandered into the kitchen and began to fill the sink with hot, soapy water, placing the dishes scattered on the counters into the basin. In his heart, he had hoped she could trust the connection they’d established. Though she was reluctant to admit to feelings greater than friendship, she demonstrated care for him on a daily basis. He would accept what she could offer, for now.
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Draco woke to the sound of the shower. Even though Hermione had gone to bed without him, he’d woken to her body pressed against his throughout the night. He knew she thought of love as the beginning of the end, the inevitable close of their arrangement. But her unconscious actions betrayed the distance she put between them the previous night.
He stretched and got out of bed, making his way into the shower. Hermione stepped aside to allow him to stand in the hot spray. Draco pulled her against his body.
“Don’t hide from me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I’m aware of your issues.”
“I’m sure there are more of them than you expected.”
“To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect. Your fears aren’t unfounded, but they shouldn’t determine your future.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, just a bit disappointed. I had hoped you’d be so overwhelmed with my declaration that you would be inspired to reciprocate.”   He said it somewhat in jest, but part of him did think she would feel as he did.
Hermione looked up at him and rested her hands on his chest. “I am moved by what you said.”
For a woman most comfortable sitting and reading, she could express her feelings for Draco best through her body. Hermione found solace in their physical relationship. She knew it went beyond good chemistry and similar sexual tendencies. She loved giving Draco pleasure, watching him lose himself with her. She’d grown to treasure their sweet, small touches throughout the day.
She pulled him toward her and pressed her lips into his. The relief she felt when he kissed her back was immediate. Hermione pushed her breasts into his firm chest, letting her nipples graze the light sprinkling of hair on his torso. Draco kissed her hard, desperate to feel her embrace. His hands molded to the smooth, wet skin of her arse.
Her lips trailed down his neck as he pushed her against the shower wall.
“Don’t give up on me,” she whispered into his skin.
Draco hitched her body up, her legs wrapping around his waist. They were face to face, both breathing rapidly. Hermione reached between them and positioned his broad head at her cleft. He rubbed his cock over her sensitive clit, causing her to moan. She ground down and he surged into her.
“Oh my God!” Hermione gasped as his large member began to pound into her. This morning he was proving a point to her, fucking her so she couldn’t ruminate on his confession. She held onto him, letting gravity and his thrusts bounce her up and down. His beautiful face was serious and focused as he claimed her with his body.
Her nails dug into his back as her g-spot was stimulated by his vigorous movements and his balls slapped her arse. A groan was forced from her throat as she teetered on the edge of climax.
“I. Am. Not. Giving. Up. On. You,” he gritted out, each word punctuated by a deep thrust. His grey eyes were dark and penetrating as he stared into her vulnerable eyes. In that moment, Hermione comprehended the truth of his words. She would have those constants she wanted in her life if she would give this man a chance to love her.
“Yes, Draco, yes!” Hermione sobbed as his thrusts became turbulent and his breathing became labored. Her pussy pulsed around his shaft as he came inside of her. They clung to each other as their bodies came down from the intensity of the coupling.
Draco carefully put her down and turned off the shower. He wrapped a large bath sheet around her body. Hermione opened the towel to him, silently asking him to join her. Her body was hot and smooth against his.
“Let’s get back into bed,” Draco suggested, knowing she was uncertain about the state of her heart. He wanted to hold her and show her he valued her for more than sex.
“Okay,” she said, letting Draco guide her back to the unmade cocoon of pillows and warm, soft blankets.
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They woke a few hours later, snow falling in fat flakes to the ground. The light in the bedroom was muted and made the pair glad they could hole up for the day.
Draco spooned Hermione’s naked body.
“Your hair is strangling me,” he said, spitting strands out of his mouth.
“Is it? I’ve been thinking about cutting it.”
“You have?” Draco used his wand to braid her unruly hair and bind it.
“Umhmm.”
“No. I don’t want you to cut it.” After years of fantasies about her crazy locks, he wasn’t about to encourage her getting rid of them.
She chuckled. “It was just an idea.”
“I used to wank to images of you lying naked on my bed, your hair spread out under you.”
Hermione’s eyes widened before she guffawed. “Malfoy!”
“I’ve wanked to you for so long and now that I actually get to wrap that crazy hair around myself, I refuse to let you cut it. I forbid it.”
“Aww, Draco, you’re such a romantic! I’ve always wanted to be a member of your mental harem,” she cooed, reaching back to pinch him.
He slapped her hand away and began to suck on her neck, purposely attempting to leave a purple mark. Aside from enjoying the feeling of his lips on her sensitive neck, Hermione knew Draco liked marking her. If they went out, she’d hide it with a quick charm, but around the house she’d let the bite show.
“Deviant,” Hermione said as he continued to mark up her neck.
“You like it,” he whispered into her ear.
“I do,” she said, rubbing her backside against him.
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“I need to visit my parents.”
Draco never talked about his parents. To her knowledge, they weren’t allowed to write to him and he didn’t write to them. Hermione had no respect for the elder Malfoys, but she would never want to be the wedge that would further drive Draco from his parents. To be honest, her own parents had shown their true colors and she wouldn’t hesitate to visit them if they wanted anything to do with her.
“Of course,” she said, nodding in understanding.
“It’s important I check on them. They were doting parents to me when I was a child. I have some good memories of them.” He gave her a sad smile.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Draco. I’m sure they want to see you.”
“Maybe.”
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Two days later Hermione, Ron and Luna stood in front of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
Ron looked at his friends. “I should warn you before you see Harry: he’s said some arsehole-ish things to me lately. Just be prepared.”
Ron used his wand to open the door. Kreacher came to greet the visitors and led them to the library, where they found Harry reading. Harry looked up, expecting to see Ron, but was startled to see Hermione and Luna.
Luna broke the ice by approaching Harry and kissing his cheek. “Harry Potter, it’s been too long.” She pulled a chair near him and sat.
Hermione scrutinized the man in front of her. His normally rosy cheeks were pale and his face was scruffy. His hair was in desperate need of a cut. Kreacher kept his clothes clean, but what he wore was rumpled. Ron put his hand on the small of Hermione’s back, leading her to sit next to him and across from Harry and Luna.
“Hi, Harry,” Hermione said, making eye-contact with him. After their last encounter, she had no idea how he would react to her.
“Hello, Hermione.”
“Hey, mate,” Ron said with a sympathetic smile. “Dad sent you some Muggle comics.” Ron fished them out of his bag and handed them to his friend.
“Thanks,” Harry said quietly. “So, why are you three here?”
Ron had been waiting for Harry to say something and almost began to speak when Luna, with her calm, airy voice interrupted his train of thought.
“Ron, Hermione, can you two make us tea?”
They nodded and left the room, making their way down the stairs to the kitchen at the back of the odd house.
“You’re depressed and we’re concerned for you,” Luna said in her straightforward way.
“Everyone is depressed,” Harry mumbled.
“Yes, to a certain degree everyone who was touched by the war is depressed, but your life is moving back instead of forward.”
“My life is a pile of shite, Luna. You probably think I have some bizarre creature stuck up my arse causing my problems, but I don’t need your brand of help.”
Luna cocked her head at him, considering her words. She’d always been considered weird, but she did know the difference between psychological and magical problems.
“I’m not under the illusion you’re buggered, Harry.” She gave him such a serious expression that he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Tell me something good,” Harry said in an attempt to be social.
“I finally got to see a Muggle movie,” she said with a grin.
“What movie did you see?”
“Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Do we have a Tiffany store in England? I’d like to have breakfast there,” Luna mused.
Harry had caught most of the movie one summer evening when the Dursleys had forgotten to lock his room at night. He had been young, but something about Holly Golightly and her courage to make a new life had struck him as kindred.
“I think there’s a Tiffany store in London.”
Ron and Hermione listened from the hallway.
“Let’s wait downstairs,” Hermione whispered to Ron.
“Good idea.”
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“Did The Ferret get you a Yule gift?”
“Don’t call him that. And yes, he did.”
“What did he give you?”
Hermione pushed back her hair to expose a ruby earring. “He also gave me a few books I’ve wanted and a two way mirror for my purse so we can get ahold of each other quickly.”
“Huh. Those were very Hermione-ish gifts.” Ron gave her a little smirk. “Did you get him anything?”
“I got him some books—“
Ron mimicked a snoring noise.
“Oh, shut it, Ronald! He likes to read as much as I do. Anyway, Draco enjoys music, so I bought him a Muggle music playing system and several music CDs and charmed it to be powered by magic.” Ron gave her a skeptical look. “You use the machine to play music off discs. I’ll show you next time you come over.”
Harry and Luna came into the kitchen.
“Harry and I are going to see Mr. Ollivander. We may be awhile.”
“Do you want us to wait for you two? We can grab a bite when you get back,” Ron said affably.
“Uh, no,” Harry said, glancing at his fellow Gryffindors. “Hermione, can I speak to you for a minute?”
Harry walked into the hall with Hermione following him somewhat reluctantly. Last time he had asked to speak to her he’d said such hurtful things she wanted to protect herself.
“Are you still with Malfoy?” he asked.
Hermione nodded. Harry sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face.
“Why him, Hermione?”
“If I tell you anything about my feelings, you have to promise me you won’t throw it in my face if we break up.” She gave Harry a serious look. He stared back at her then jerked his head in acquiescence.
“He’s different. The war changed him and he wants to be more than Lucius Malfoy’s son. Draco’s been really good for me.”
“Hermione, I know it’s flattering to have someone lavish you with gifts, but—“
“Look, Harry, Malfoy isn’t perfect, but he’s not buying my affection. I’m disappointed you think it would be so easy for someone to impress me with things.”
“I still think something is off about this thing your have going with Malfoy, but it’s your life. I hope you don’t end up hurt by him.”
Hermione knew Harry had an incredible talent for comprehending the nuances of a situation. It was one of his innate gifts, like her own gift for putting together the pieces of a puzzle. He was right in his suspicion about her relationship with Draco Malfoy, but she would rather kiss a flobber worm than admit to Harry why they were together in the first place. But this thing she had with Draco was too delicate and new for her to dissect, least of all with Harry.
“It is my life. I never would have thought Draco would be the one to help me start to move on, but he is and…he cares for me.”
“God, Hermione, you sound like you’re already in love with him.” As soon as he said it he knew it to be true. Hermione was a loyal as they came. If Harry continued to challenge her feelings for the blond Slytherin, he would cut off any chance of a reconciliation with her. He recognized that he’d been an utter cock to her at the Hogwarts Gala. His words had been cruel and had played to her worst fears.
Hermione didn’t say anything in return, a sure sign that her emotional baggage made this conversation difficult for her.
Luna called to Harry. “We should go now if we’re to catch Mr. Ollivander before the shop closes.”
“Okay,” he called back.
Hermione began to make her way back to Ron.
“Give me time,” Harry said tiredly. “I’ll try to wrap my head around what you’ve said to me about you and Malfoy.”
She nodded and gave Harry a small smile. “That’s all I can ask from you.”
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The last time Draco had seen his parents had been right before he had gone back to Hogwarts for his eighth year. They had been put on house arrest, but both had been grateful to have escaped an Azkaban sentence. He had told them in no uncertain terms that he would not be staying at the manor in the future.
Draco supposed his parents had seen pictures of him and Hermione in the society pages of The Daily Prophet. He knew they were allowed to take the paper. Luckily, for him at least, they could not initiate contact with the outside world. Draco could visit his parents whenever he liked, but he needed to put some distance between himself and the people who he knew loved him, but had put him into a dangerous position as an impressionable teen. Lucius and Narcissa, for all their money and sophistication, had never sussed out what Voldemort was about until the scary bastard was living in their home, treating them as if they were nothing more than minions. Which, it turned out, his parents had been.
Having seen what that kind of blind following had done to his parents, Draco vowed to do everything in his power to make the Malfoy name into something more.
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Dressed in a warm pair of charcoal grey trousers and a wool navy blue shawl collar sweater, he Flooed into the traveling room of the manor. Gertie, his mother’s house-elf, greeted him with a smile on her wizened face.
“Young Master Draco! It’s been so long. We’s missed you.”
“Hello, Gertie. Are my parents available for callers?”
“Yes, of course! We has strict instructions iffin you visit.”
Gertie waved, beckoning him to follow her to the yellow sitting room. Draco walked to a large window in the sitting room that overlooked the rear garden. He was surprised to find the large hedge maze removed and what he surmised was a huge potions garden in its place. While the rest of the land was covered in snow, the new garden was green most likely because it had been magically warmed.
“Son,” Lucius said from the doorway. The last time Draco had seen his father, he had been thin and his pallor had been poor, probably due to stress and lack of sleep. The man before him was healthier and dare he say, tanner, than he had ever seen his father.
Draco walked to his father and put out his hand. “Sir. You’re looking well.”
Lucius shook his hand and looked at his son. This was not the unhappy young man he had seen months ago. This man was…different.
“Thank you, Draco. Your mother should be here in a moment. Please, let’s sit.”
Draco took a seat in a wingback chair facing the sofa. “How have you and mother been faring?”
“Quite well, actually. I’ve come to believe it’s somewhat of a blessing that we can’t leave the manor. Your mother and I needed time to regroup after the past few years.”
Just then, Draco heard light footfalls hurrying toward the sitting room. “Draco!” He stood to catch her jubilant hug. “You look wonderful, son.”
Narcissa held her tall, handsome boy by the shoulders and looked at him. He’d grown since the last time she’d seen him, some eighteen months before. His hair was a big shaggy, but suited him. It was his face that was unlike what she remembered. His eyes were sincere and his mouth was smiling, not smirking or grimacing as he had done so often as a younger teen.
“You do, too, Mother. I was admiring your potions garden. Are you brewing again?”
“Yes, I am. We’ll give you a tour before you go. How are you enjoying university?”
Narcissa sat next to her husband and the two looked at their son expectantly. They’d worried about him, but appreciated his need to get some distance from the horrors he’d seen in his own home. It had taken the Malfoys months to repair the damage from Voldemort’s time in the home. But after the Ministry took out the Dark objects from the house, it became easier to breathe in the manor. It was harder for them to get rid of the terrible memories from the past few years, with both having nightmares on a regular basis for the first few months after the war ended.
“I’m very much enjoying my studies. The work is challenging, but I find myself up to the task.” Draco had the uncomfortable realization that his parents were clueless about what was happening in the greater wizarding world. “Do you still take The Prophet?”
Narcissa shook her head. “We thought it would be better to take a break from the rubbish they were printing. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve made an effort to rehabilitate the Malfoy name with charitable contributions and by attending events that show our ability to embrace the new world.”
“Are your gifts accepted?” Lucius asked. While he and his wife were hiding away at Malfoy Manor, Draco would be subjected to the brunt of the public’s hatred toward their family.
“Well, yes, generally. There’s so much need in our community that most organizations are only too happy to accept Galleons from us.”
“How extensive is the damage?” Narcissa wondered hesitantly.
“You saw some of it before you were put on house arrest. There’s substantial rebuilding in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and some smaller villages, but the loss of life has taken the greatest toll on the magical community. Hermione took me to the war orphans’ care center and there were so many children there with no one left in their family.”
“Hermione?” Narcissa looked curiously at her son.
Hermione was so imprinted on Draco’s mind he hadn’t realized he had mentioned her until he had said her name. Fuck it. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. Draco gazed levelly at both his parents. He would give them no indication that he would be swayed by their reaction to his connection to her.
“Hermione Granger, the witch from Hogwarts. She attends the Wizarding University of Great Brittain as well. It took some persuading on my part, but she eventually agreed to see me.”
Lucius gave his son a shrewd look. “Very politic, Draco. A connection to her and her compatriots would go a long way towards redeeming the family name.”
Draco supposed he could tell his parents he had deeper feelings for the Muggle-born witch, but until he knew of her feelings for him, he wouldn’t broach that topic with them.
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Hello dear Hermione,
Harry and I had a chat with Mr. Ollivander and he accepted Harry into the expedition. A motley group of people are going, but I think it will be good for Harry to interact with some new witches and wizards. Mr. Ollivander also insisted Harry get a new wand, as his was not his best match.
Love to you,
Luna
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Hermione was asleep when Draco got back to the flat after dinner with his parents. Gertie had given him several packages of his favorite baked goods and candy. When he’d ventured back to Hogwarts as a student, she’d sent him with enviable treats for the train ride. Hermione would like the talented elf’s chocolate croissants with her morning coffee.
He slipped into bed, at first careful not to disturb her rest, but his desire to touch her winning out in the end. His body curled around her warm, smooth curves.
“How was your visit?” she asked groggily. Following the afternoon call to Grimmauld Place, Hermione had been tired. She ate a small dinner and read for the upcoming semester, but found herself becoming sleepy as the evening went on. She was prepared for Draco to come back from visiting his parents and ask her to leave the flat. It was clear he had removed himself from the prejudice he had grown up with, but Hermione knew people could change their minds in the face of pressure from influential family or friends. It was absolutely exhausting for her to bounce between feelings of fear, worry and love for the man in question.
“It was good,” he said, pulling her hair away from her neck to press a kiss to the fragrant skin under her ear. “But I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” she said in a small voice.
“Did your visit to Potter’s go alright?”
Hermione turned and faced him, the light from the moon illuminating his bright hair. He put his arm on her hip and pulled her closer, so their faces were only centimeters apart.
“Umhmm. Luna took Harry in hand, so Ron and I didn’t have to do much.” Her hand rested on his chest, lightly fingering the skin above his heart.
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Not really.”
Draco knew she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but he wasn’t willing to start an argument with her over an omission. In time, he hoped she would feel comfortable confiding in him. They were quiet for a few minutes and Draco thought she had fallen back to sleep.
“Were they upset? About me?” she asked quietly.
Draco brushed his lips over hers, his hand cupping her face in an intimate gesture of understanding.
“No. But even if they had been, it wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”
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