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Lupine Dreams	By : Wolfling1972 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 11118 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, that belongs solely to JK Rowling, neither am I making money from this story. I just enjoy playing in her world

Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
(AN1: Warning for torture with death as a result. I tried to control the gruesomeness but it was difficult to write it any less descriptively and still get it across. The scene itself is located after the break in the chapter and has some information....but is mostly used to underscore the beliefs of Mister Snake Face and his rabid fanbase. You won't miss very much if you just choose to skip or skim it. Also, HI! Told ya I'd get it up today.)
A few moments later, Draco stepped from the overly large fireplace and strode forward, his eyes focused on his mother, his lips curved upward, a sweet smile evident on his face. "Mother, how are you?" He leaned forward and embraced her quickly. "As you can see, Hermione has agreed to come and visit."
Narcissa smiled at the young muggle-born witch, bright blue gaze latched to the dark whiskey orbs of the curly-haired female. "Trixie!"
A small house elf~ gray-green of eye and skin with large bat ears and a small (for an elf) nose, popped into the room with a quiet crack of sound. "Yes, Ma'am?"
"Could you please escort Miss Granger to the Blue bedroom and help her put her things away?"
The elf nodded, bobbed a herky-jerky curtsy and turned those wide gray-green eyes to the young woman who still hadn't said a single word. "This way, miss. Trixie will help."
A few moments later, Hermione had been whisked from the room which left mother and son alone. Narcissa broke the silence. "How did you get her to come?"
"By convincing her of my seriousness and her safety. She seems to think I am an Alpha in my own right due to my need to corral and constrain her, probably because of the mate ties and...other things." Draco paced, his gaze trained on the entrance as he awaited Hermine's return. "Of course, she was scared to meet you in a more private setting. We've done no favors to her over the years."
The elegant blonde grimaced slightly before finding the will to school her features. "We never expected to have to do so, did we? I always knew you had a certain softness toward the girl, a need to poke at her. I even contemplated you ignoring your upbringing and attempting to court her, after this war." A headshake. "I would have hated it but I would have handled it, no matter what your father thought."
Draco maintained his silence for a moment before he allowed his gaze to shift toward the woman who had given birth to him. "I would have never gone against the family, mother. No matter what I believed in my heart, I wouldn't have wanted to hurt YOU in that way. You believe in blood purity and so, I would have ignored it all (as I've told her) and done what was needed to make you proud."
Narcissa looked forlorn at that. "We've made you weak by putting this on you, by not allowing you choices. When did you start to question our teachings, Draco? For how many years have you harbored such...thoughts?"
"Third year. She slapped me and I knew but I ignored it, pushed it away, down until it was no more than a faded memory. I don't regret it. I did what was required of me for my position. Even now, if I hadn't been bitten, if that thing hadn't tried to force me to take a mark I didn't want? I would have never allowed my own desires to interfere with my duty to the Malfoy name."
A faint frown passed over Narcissa's delicate features. "The name will never be as important to me as your happiness." She hesitated, thinking over what she wanted to say before she finally relented. "I think you should tell her about your tasks and what you overheard that day. She could help alleviate some of your guilt and it would endear you to her."
Just then, the young woman in question hustled through the door, her small frame shown to good effect by the comfortable clothes she wore. "Missus Malfoy! This place is lovely. How long has it been in your family?"
Draco allowed a small smile to grace his features as his mother lit up at the question and rose to accompany the frizzy-haired female from the room with an offer of; "I'd love to show you around, dear. It's too hard to just talk about a house's history when one can see it before them."
An hour later, the trio gathered and engaged in conversation while eating a late lunch. Narcissa covertly watched the two young people at the table, her blue gaze drifting from left to right at the way the pair moved, almost synchronized. If Draco leaned forward slightly, Hermione did too. If he planned to reach for something, she reached it first and handed it over or vice versa. It was...intriguing. Finally, when the last of the plates had been cleared away, the older woman spoke.
"Draco, why don't you take Hermione for a walk on the grounds. You know how far out you can safely go without affecting the wards. Plus, it will give you two time to talk." She placed subtle insistence on the last word but amber and storm cloud gazes flitted to her face quickly enough. "Just do it, son."
"Fine mother."
Hermione released a quiet giggle and turned her attention to the young man across from her. "Let me grab my cloak and I'll be ready." Then she turned her attention to Narcissa. "Do you dress for dinner?"
"Yes. Do you have appropriate wear?"
"Of course. I think both you and Draco will find it...oddly fitting. What time?"
Narcissa called for Trixie and once the odd personage appeared, she queried; "How long until dinner?"
"Not until seven, ma'am. You were later than usual in asking for lunch."
Narcissa nodded and sent the elf off before turning to the young couple. "About five hours from now."
"Oh good," Hermione breathed. "That gives me time." She then turned and slipped away.
Within five minutes, the pair were outside and walking through drifts of bright white snow. The lodge was nestled in a large clearing located off a beaten path in the very center of Cairngorms National Park and was surrounded by trees with a small hot spring (natural, magical?) to the west. The area maintained an eerie silence and for long moments, no words were exchanged. Finally, Draco spoke, even as he grabbed for her right hand with his left.
"There are some things I need to tell you."
Hermione nodded. "I know."
Days later, Draco would think back on just how easy it had been to tell her all of the things he'd held back. She had asked questions, probed his thoughts, but never once had she let go of his hand. At one point, he had tugged at her until he could sling an arm over her shoulder and pull her closer. She hadn't retreated, only continued to speak about his revelations. One thing she did ask was simple:
"Are you an Occulemens, like Professor Snape?"
"Yes, he trained me all throughout fourth and fifth years. Why?"
"Because if we go to Dumbledore, he could help you and your mother though we wouldn't know for sure until we return to school."
Draco nodded and eventually, they returned to the warmth of the large house, which seemed to nestle into the grounds as if it wanted to hide under the white blanket of winter. One cup of tea later, the three went their separate ways as Narcissa proclaimed that naps were in order. Since it was her house, Hermione agreed. Draco, of course, did not. But when was he anything besides contrary?
"I'm coming with you," he stated, forcefully.
"Why," soft rejoinder.
"I am. End of discussion."
She wrinkled her nose and her bottom lip poked out in a childish pout. "You can't just decide things like that, Draco. I am not in danger right now, am I? There is no reason for me not to tell you no." She glanced at him, even as she continued to her room.
"I did, you aren't and maybe not but I am still coming. Just give in to the inevitable."
She turned away and hurried down the dimly lit hallway, not pausing until she came to the dark mahogany door that led to her room. She understood, implicitly, that he was going to follow her inside, arguing about it wouldn't make it less true. However, she paused before she turned the knob.
"Fine. I don't know what you expect from me...."
"Open the door, Hermione," he said, a growl heard beneath the words.
She did as he asked. No... requested? demanded? and slipped through the doorway, showing him her back so that he wouldn't see the tint of pink that touched her cheeks. She was embarrassed. After all, they were in his mother's house, it wasn't like the room of requirement! It felt wrong and strange and odd. He didn't seem to care. In fact...
"Take off your shoes and come lay with me. I never said I was going to do anything to you. I just didn't want to sleep without you next to me. There is no reason for it, no one is waiting for either of us. No one cares that we talk, kiss or hug. I just want to hold you."
She paused for a brief moment and then unzipped her boots before stepping out of them and placing them at the foot of the bed. She turned to look at the male now comfortably ensconced in her bed. "I can't sleep in my clothes. I have to..." He waved her off and then closed his eyes, so she rummaged through her bag, pulled out her nightclothes and hustled to the en suite to change into flannel pajama bottoms and one of Harry's old Quidditch jerseys. Had she been thinking about it, she would not have done that.
She had just tugged the cover down on the right side of the bed when he turned to face her and his expression morphed from tired to angry in just under a second. "What are you wearing, Granger?"
"An old jersey of Harry's...." Hermione trailed off because she realized that she had been stupid. Very stupid.
"NO. Take it off," he snapped.
"I didn't bring anything else, Draco, and I wasn't expecting you to see me in it." He gave a snort in response but she continued onward. "Seriously? You are going to be shirty over a jersey that I've had since the fourth year? Harry outgrew it and I wanted it because it was comfortable." He huffed a sigh, she ignored him and just kept talking. "Get over it, Malfoy."
That gave him pause, for about half a minute, but then he reached for her wrist and tugged her into the bed, toward him. "I don't want you wearing a jersey with someone else's name. I don't want you marked with someone else's scent, someone else's clothes, someone else's any fucking thing." He paused and then ground out. "Take it off."
"No," and she glared at him, her eyes bright with anger.
So? He got up and stalked out. She thought that was the end of it but no more than five minutes later, he had returned with a green jersey, small (maybe from his third or fourth year?) with his number and name on the back in deep black. "Put this on, Granger," he bit out, his voice a rough grumble.
There was no point in arguing. She knew it. He knew it. It wasn't just him, it was the wolf too. Neither of them (were werewolves host to separate wolfish identities?) wanted to see her with Harry's name on her back, didn't want to see the red and gold on her skin. With an ill-tempered sigh, she rolled out of the bed and tugged Harry's jersey off before putting Draco's on. As soon as she turned to face him she recalled two things: One? She hadn't been wearing a bra and two? She had been topless in front of him.
'Maybe he wasn't looking,' she thought but as soon as she faced him, she knew that hadn't been the case. His eyes were far too dark.
"Get into bed, Hermione."
With a shiver at the possessiveness hidden beneath the growling tenor, she did so. However, she attempted to remain on her side of the bed. He didn't seem to understand boundaries because as soon as she had settled, he reached over, draped one long arm over her waist and PULLED until she was right next to him, with her back to his front. Hot breath wafted against her ear, burrowed into her curls.
"The fact that you did that without thought to the consequences either means you trust me or you are dumb and I know the second assumption is incorrect. SO, I am going to hold you in my arms and we are going to sleep before I do something that you will regret...."
She shivered, nodded and somehow managed to snuggle closer before she allowed her eyes to drift closed. His hand (large, warm, pale) wiggled beneath the silk of his (now her) shirt and came to rest on the warmth of her flat stomach but he did nothing else, only rubbed light circles until she fell asleep. Eventually, the hand stopped rubbing and he joined her in darkness.
He awakened before the witch in his arms. Somehow, she'd managed to turn over so that her head rested on his shoulder. One slender arm was draped bonelessly across his chest while one surprisingly long leg (one would have thought she was ONLY legs when given her height) had found a home over his. He smiled at the curls which teased his nose and stroked her back, once. Twice. Once more.
She gasped and attempted to scoot away but Draco had decided in the moments between her startlement and the quick attempt at movement that her escape was not going to happen. Instead he tightened his grip, added his other arm for leverage and promptly arranged her until she lay on top of him. Her golden skin flared into a deep pink hue and she attempted to stutter some words of negation but he stopped her...with a kiss.
Slow. Drugging. Sweet like thick honey or molasses. He nipped her bottom lip and sucked it's fullness into the heat of his mouth before he released it. Eventually, his tongue tip played havoc against the soft seam of her lips and she pressed her small frame closer. Shifting her slightly (one hand tangled in her hair, the other on the soft swell of her bum) he swept the closed juiciness of her lips again until she opened for him on a sigh. Both of his hands tightened as he felt the tentative stroke of her tongue against his own. He welcomed her boldness with a low groan.
Somehow, Hermione found herself being snogged silly as heat and pressure soon throbbed between her legs but he didn't stop and she didn't really want him to. Instead, she focused on the feeling of his mouth on me, oh, his mouth is on me and his hands, so warm, can't get close enough until she felt half crazy with longing. However, dizziness soon made an appearance need to breathe...but it feels so good...need air and she found herself breaking his ravishment only to drop her head to his shoulder.
"Did you sleep well," a mumbled sentence against the silence, husked into the hollow of his throat. She heard his gruff laughter, felt the sweep of his hand, from her nape downward, to the other side of her butt. She whimpered when he squeezed.
He did answer, though. "Very well, thank you. It's almost six, so we should be getting ready for dinner."
Hermione tried to roll off of the lean form beneath her; heavier than a seeker, now...taller, thicker, more muscle mass but he seemed unable to release her. Finally, she pulled back to look into his gray eyes. "If you want to see what I've brought to wear for dinner, you've got to let me get ready, Draco." She wiggled downward and flinched when her core slipped over the hardness hidden beneath his pajama bottoms. Her mind shut down. 'It's large, will he fit? Do I want him to? Yes...I do. Can't tell him though.'
"Draco," the name a plaintive whisper.
"Fine." He pressed a chaste kiss to swollen lips and released her. "I won't feel bad about those kisses, Hermione. You shouldn't either. After all, you are mine."
A blush was her response and as soon as his caging arms left her small frame, she rolled away and stumbled to her feet. "I will meet you at the staircase at five minutes of."
He responded with a wink and a smirk before taking himself off.
'Dammit!'
The next hour was spent getting herself prepared: shower, shave, lotion, underthings, dress robe, heels, eyeliner, mascara, lipgloss. At quarter 'til, she found herself staring at the mass of curls around her face and with no more than a thought, she swiftly french braided the heavy mess so that it lay over her shoulder, the end falling just below her breast. A final look, her dark amber eyes trailing over her clothed form, and then she exited the room and headed for the stairs.
He was waiting, dressed in a tailored suit in his normal ink black, the crisp white of his shirt and dark green of his tie a brilliant contrast. His hair flopped lazily over one eye and she positively itched to push it back but she didn't, only waited beneath his heated gaze as those smoke gray orbs roved her from tip to toe. "I like the robe, Hermione, makes you look edible." A low, lustful sound, a growl? "Are you ready?"
She nodded, one hand rising to touch her hair. "Will your mother approve?"
Draco smiled, something that lit his eyes up, a brilliant silvery hue. "Yes. But don't worry about what anyone else thinks. The only person you have to impress is me and I think that you look lovely." With that, he offered her his arm and led her down the stairs and to the dining room.
His mother did approve. While the trio ate dinner, Narcissa drew the girl into a conversation about fashion and before long they were discussing Muggle clothing. From there, the conversation wandered into the schools' muggles attended and such. For the first time, Hermione felt comfortable with the beautiful blonde and so she asked questions of her own. There was a frank discussion about blood purity and how the sacred twenty-eight became to be known as such including (totally an offshoot) how many families believed it and why that belief persisted.
Draco said not a word, only stared at the young woman while he ate, while he drank, while discourse ranged far and wide. Narcissa DID ask the young woman if she had read the journal and once Hermione answered in the affirmative, the discussion soon followed that line of thought. The blond male remained quiet though he felt an inner glow at Hermione's assent that she was almost positive that she was his mate. He continued to study her. In fact, he studied her for so long that she began to feel a little uncomfortable. Once dessert had been served and eaten, Hermione quipped, "Do I have something on my face?'
"No. I just...you never dress up at school, not counting the Yule ball in fourth year." He paused and a faint blush tinged his cheeks. "I find myself oddly glad that no one else sees you in your dress robes."
She blushed and retorted, "Well, I do dress for the Slug Club. Ask Blaise!"
"Ah, but you wear Muggle dresses to those."
She snorted a laugh. "Still look good though!"
~Meanwhile, at the Manor~
"So, the girl never went home?"
Bellatrix shook her head, dark tangled hair flying from the force of the motion. "No, my Lord. In fact, when we arrived, no one was there and hadn't been." The insane woman sounded put out, her voice shrill. "We have been watching, of course, taking turns to monitor the situation."
The thing who was once a man nodded. "That is very well." He then turned his attention to a certain hook-nosed professor. "Did she stay at the school, Severus?"
"No, my Lord. I have not seen her. More than likely she stayed with the blood traitor's family."
Silence descended until it was broken by a scream. A family of four were dragged to the center of the dark room, the youngest a little boy of no more than four who looked around with wide unblinking eyes and made nary a sound. It was Bellatrix who broke through the noise with bone-jarring laughter. She meandered closer, her eyes trained on the dark-skinned male who tried to protect the woman and children behind him.
"What...what do you want with my family?" His deep voice cracked and wavered with fear, pain, hopelessness.
"Nothing," was Bella's staunch reply. "They are worth nothing, not even the little one. We only grabbed them because we wanted you to be together. We care so much for your... togetherness." With that, she whipped out her wand and aimed it at the male. "Crucio!" The tall man released an echoing scream as he fell backward in convulsions, his large body flopping on the ground like a landed fish.
As for the mother? She was torn away from her children, stripped, beaten, raped...over and over again with the final blow being dealt by Greyback as he ripped out her throat. The father was dead, whether that result came from the repeated cruciatus curses or the multiple hexes thrown his way, no one could say. No one cared enough to figure it out, either.
The eldest, a girl with hazel eyes and frizzy black hair, seemed to be almost comatose as she never moved, never screamed. She just sat there holding her little brother, his features drawn into a pouting frown. It was then that Voldemort spoke.
"Get rid of the girl. The boy will make a nice snack for Nagini."
The soft rustle of snakeskin against hardwood was heard and a moment later, the little wide-eyed boy was being torn from his sister and thrown, hard enough to stun him, before the opened maw of the beautiful serpent. She curled around him, slowly, so slowly, her large body and iridescent scales catching the light. The little boy looked almost enthralled but didn't make a sound. In fact, he didn't scream until she reared back and struck with her fangs. Fast. Deadly. Over.
She started her meal at his head.
As for the daughter, the only remaining child of a family that had been brutally used? She cried out and then began to sob as Bellatrix smiled serenely and pulled out a knife that glittered brightly in the low light. Faster than thought, the woman embraced the girl, a mockery made, no comfort to be found in those thin, trembling arms.
"Don't worry, ickle little mudblood," she whispered, her voice a soothing sound. "It will be all over, soon."
The knife she held seemed to bury itself into the girl's back but there was no scream. Not for the first stab nor the second. It wasn't until Bellatrix threw her backward that the girl felt pain and it was that which caused a screech of sound. The noise went on forever as the crazy woman buried the knife in the girl's stomach and pushed the knife up, leaving behind a large gash that oozed blood and severed the girl's intestines. The knife rose higher and a minute later, the young girl lay dead, her throat slit from ear to ear, the room filled with the stench of ruptured bowels.
"There now," Bellatrix cooed to the girl's rapidly cooling body, a body covered in blood and gore, a body left lying against the hard floor. "I've sent you to your family." Then the woman turned away. "My Lord, it is finished. What shall we do with the bodies?"
Remove them," he hissed, his voice just above a whisper. "They foul this area with their stink. Burn them until only powdered bone remains and then toss even that somewhere else."
"As you wish, Lord," was the whispered response and soon enough the three remaining bodies were hauled away, leaving only Snape and Lucius behind. It was the elder Malfoy who broke the silence.
"My Lord, have you given any thought to Nott's son? He would also be in place to help Draco with his task..."
The shadowed man nodded. "It was my plan. Alas, the boy has not been home nor can his father find him. He assumes that the boy is off with his friends."
Lucius backed away and then rose, his head still bowed. "If you have no further need of me, I will retire."
A wave of one spider-like hand was his response and with that, the blond retreated, leaving behind the achingly slender forms of Snape and Voldemort.
"You may go, Severus. Once we know where the mudblood is, we can work on a different plan. Maybe the next Hogsmeade weekend?"
"As you say so, let it be so, my Lord." Then he too was gone, leaving the monster masked as a man, alone with his overlarge companion.
"They think me stupid Nagini, they think to weaken me. I do not need their belief though and in the end, I will be victorious." The words low and thoughtful. "You have no doubts though, do you?"
The sleepy serpent shook her large head and slithered around the chair until the chair and man within its stately confines were encircled. The few torches that had remained lit were doused with a single wave of one hand. The quiet returned.
(AN2: I am so sorry!! However, I needed the contrast and so there it is. I remain unsure as to when I will get the next reworked chapter up. Maybe tomorrow? Later tonight? Who knows!)
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Lupine Dreams