Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Until Again	By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 15446 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter and do not make any money by using the world of J. K Rowling here.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
Epilogue

Hermione closed her eyes on a sigh when soft lips met her temple.
“I love you,” Ron whispered hoarsely, his fingers tightening in her hand. She looked up into his shining blue eyes and smiled, cupping his cheek with the hand that had been over his heart.
“I love you, too,” she murmured and he leaned down for a gentle kiss, his foot coming down on her heel covered toe, making them stumble slightly in the throes of their first dance.
“Sorry,” he muttered, a blush creeping into his freckled cheeks. Hermione giggled and pulled him back into step with her. She knew he’d been practicing endlessly with his mother and her heart swelled at his consideration. He had done everything in his power to make this day perfect for her, allowing her to mix a little bit of Muggle tradition in with the wizarding ceremony. She glanced down happily at the pretty ring he’d had made for her at Harry’s insistence. She’d been overcome with emotion when he’d actually gotten down to his knee and proposed, the gold and diamond band gleaming in its very Muggle case. She’d cried like a child when he’d slipped it onto her finger, counting them to be sure he placed it on the one Harry had instructed.
And now it glittered against her hand which was clasped in his as they swayed to the band, her white gown billowing around them. When the song ended, she allowed her new husband to escort her back to their seat where Ginny was wiping tears from her eyes, careful not to disturb her makeup. Harry leaned over and kissed Hermione on the cheek.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured and she squeezed his hand in thanks, overcome with emotion. A waiter refilled their champagne glasses and Harry toasted them for the seventh time, making her grin at the happiness that flowed through him. The change that had come over him since the war was indescribable. His wife leaned over for a kiss and Hermione sighed again with contentment.
“May I have this dance?”
Hermione looked up at the voice, her brow wrinkled at the unfamiliar face. Thick, wavy brown hair and mousy features claimed him as a full-blown Granger, but she couldn’t quite place him…
“Do I-?”
“Come cousin, it’s been far too long and I am eager to catch up,” he said insistently, his smile somehow familiar.
“Of course,” she smiled back, turning to her beaming husband. “Ron, you don’t mind?”
“Better him than me,” he laughed and she kissed him sweetly before rising and taking the hand of the stranger, allowing him to sweep her back onto the floor as the music swelled.
“I’m sorry,” she said as he moved her smoothly around the floor, his body pressed all too tightly against hers. “I can’t seem to recall, it’s been too many years…”
“I’m hurt, dear cousin, that you wouldn’t recognize your favorite dragon,” he drawled, his steel grey eyes gleaming with amusement. Hermione gasped.
“Drac-”
He swung her into a spin in perfect cadence with the song, cutting off her dangerous realization. He’d changed his hair and the contours of his face, but nothing could replace the flaming grey of his eyes or the deep timbre of his voice.
Draco pulled her back into his body and she thrummed with terror and pleasure when her tugged her much closer than any cousin had a right to.
“Draco, what on earth are you doing?” she whispered, her eyes flitting around the room as if someone would pounce on them and announce him for who he was. But hardly anyone looked up, the dance floor was filled with laughing couples, the tables packed as guests finished their meals and Harry was booming with laughter at something Ron was telling him, the two of them flushed with the effects of the champagne. No one seemed bothered by the bride who was nestled in the arms of an obvious family member, even her parents didn’t look twice.
“I’m enjoying our first dance,” he murmured, his lips coming to her ear and she shivered, the familiar heat pooling between her legs at his contact.
“Draco, it’s my wedding night,” she breathed as the hand on her waist tightened slightly.
“I’m well aware.”
His voice was strained and she looked up into his sad gaze.
“Draco…”
He looked over her head, his eyes locking on the wall behind her. “Don’t. You don’t need to apologize for being happy.”
She swallowed back the emotion which lodged in her throat. Her engagement had brought a strain upon their relationship, Draco lashing out at the unfairness of their love affair. But his own engagement followed on the heels of hers and they were both swept up in the reality of their situation. They could never be more than secret lovers, sharing a life hidden away from the prying eyes of the public. They were both rising in their careers, Draco focused on repairing the damage to his family’s reputation and Hermione fighting with the publicity that came with being a war heroine. They were both busy, each year bringing more and more responsibility, more reasons to keep them apart.
But they held strong, clinging to each other through it all. Every “conference” brought her to their cozy cottage in the woods, every weekend with her parents had Draco whisking her off to some foreign country; a moonlit dinner atop the Eiffel Tower, a sun drenched weekend in Greece, a drunken fling in the streets of New York. He was forever surprising her, forever showering her in gifts and admiration.
Their secret coin was tucked into the folds of her dress even now. Even on the day of her wedding to Ronald, she’d had to keep a piece of him with her. He was a part of her soul and her heart ached with happiness that he was here now, even though the danger and impropriety of their situation was not lost on her.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said nervously. “Someone will notice-”
He snorted. “You didn’t even recognize me and I had you bent over the couch last night screaming my name.”
She blushed at the memory, having spent the eve before her wedding alone in the apartment she shared with Ron while his mother insisted he stay at his family home as was “tradition.”
“I had to see you,” he admitted. “It’s the only chance I have to hold you in a white dress with your family and friends surrounding you.”
Tears stung at the corners of her eyes and Hermione rested her cheek against the lapel of his Muggle suit. He held her tighter against his chest, his cheek resting upon her head. She knew they were acting too intimate, but the bustling dancers around them swallowed them as Draco moved them towards the center of the floor, allowing the guests to provide a momentary shield.
“I loved you first,” he whispered and her heart clenched.
“As I loved you first,” she said. She met his eyes and the tears swelled at the emotion on his face, his right hand toying with her left. His brow crinkled when he felt the ring upon her finger, the ring she’d removed before every meeting with him. He looked down at the shimmering diamond and frowned.
“A wedding gift?” he asked, admiring the simple ring.
“Not exactly,” she muttered. “It’s a Muggle tradition. When a man proposes he’s supposed to present a ring. It’s a symbol of their eternal love. Harry told Ron about it and he got one for me for our engagement.”
Draco’s jaw clenched and he nodded, continuing to stare at it. He tugged his hand from hers and, without missing a single step, flicked his wrist and Hermione gasped when he Conjured a simple silver band.
Easing the diamond from her finger, he slipped the ring on, raising her hand to his mouth to press his lips against it before replacing Ron’s ring. With a caress of his thumb the silver band disappeared, its weight still evident on her hand.
“Say the words,” he said breathlessly and the breath stuttered from her chest.
“I give my life to you so that our souls may be as one,” she breathed, echoing the words she’d told Ron only hours again.
“And united we shall remain by a love that will never be undone.”
“We go forth from this day as one heart beating forever.”
“Bound by a union no mortal spell can sever.”
As the last word of the wizarding marriage rite fell from his lips a tear raced down her cheek. Draco caught it with his thumb, the longing in his eye more painful than she could bear.
“Meet me in the third room on the right down the hall,” she whispered and he nodded, taking her hand and bowing over it, his lips tracing over her knuckles in a way that made her belly quiver in anticipation.
She wove through the crowds to where Ron and Harry were still roaring with laughter. She rounded the table to press her lips to Ron’s ear.
“I’m going to go freshen up, I think I’ve had a bit too much champagne,” she lied and Ron turned to her, concern replacing the mirth on his face.
“Are you alright? Would you like me to come with?”
“No,” she said hurriedly. “No, I’ll not be long, I’m just going to splash some water on my face. You stay here and entertain our guests, I’ll be back soon.”
He nodded and leaned up for a kiss. “Anything you say, Mrs. Weasley.”
Hermione smiled guiltily and placed a kiss against his lips. “I like the sound of that, Mr. Weasley.”
She moved quickly towards the hall, glancing at her parents who were engaged in a lively conversation with a gleeful Arthur Weasley, and gathered her gown so that she could scamper down the hall, barely getting the door open before Draco was dragging her inside and shoving her against the door, his tongue plunging into her mouth, lifting her against his body.
Hermione moaned with need as she felt his hard member pressed against her core. She undulated against him, desperate for friction as he shoved the generous fabric of her gown up to her waist, his slacks already trailing down his thighs. She gasped as she felt him at her entrance.
“You’re mine,” he growled against her lips, biting down and staking claim.
“I’m yours,” she gasped, gripping his now shining blonde hair.
“I love you more than he ever will.”
“Yes.” Her head fell back as he stretched her, his groan matching hers as they united. He moved inside her, wrenching cries from her lips that echoed around the room that only hours before had served as her dressing room as she’d readied herself for her marriage to Ron. And now she celebrated her union with Draco as he pounded into her, his fingers clenching her tightly, his face strained with pain and pleasure.
“Oh, gods, Draco,” she moaned as he drove into her, her body flooding with heat. “I’m yours. I’m yours.”
“Only mine,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. She stilled him.
“No,” she said, smoothing the hair which fell against his temple. “I’ll never be only yours, just as you’ll never be only mine. But that doesn’t make this any less real; it doesn’t make us any less real. It’s real, Draco, and it’s ours. Only ours.”
“No matter what may come,” he conceded, rubbing his face against her hand before leaning down to drown her in her in his kisses, moving against her once more and thrusting her quickly towards the edge, their love flowing through her until she crashed through that incredible crest, dragging him with her.
They stayed pressed against the door, catching their breath.
“I never did ask,” Draco panted, turning his head slightly to look at her, smirking. “What did you tell Weasley when he found out you weren’t a virgin?”
Hermione groaned at the memory of their first time, how she’d stuttered nervously about some Muggle boy she’d spent a summer with going into their sixth year. He’d been disappointed but she’d been able to soothe him with her now expert mouth, loving the shocked expression on his face as she’d pleasured him. When she regaled Draco with this tale he burst out laughing.
“Oh, I would have paid a hundred galleons to see the look on his face,” he chortled. “Poor bloke never knew what was coming to him. The sexual goddess that is the Gryffindor bookworm!”
She grinned. “Well, I have had a lot of practice,” she said sultrily and he grinned.
“That, my dear,” he said, his teeth on her neck. “You most certainly have. And there is ever more to come.”
She shivered in anticipation as he took her lips once more. She fingered the two rings on her left hand and smiled in utter happiness. Her two loves were now bound to her forever. She should feel terrible about the fact that Draco was even now growing hard again inside her on her wedding night with Ron, but she’d made herself suffer over her infidelity enough. She’d been through more pain in her young life than most would ever understand, so now she would grasp her happiness with both hands, with both loves, and take them both greedily.
“So, my dear Mrs. Weasley,” Draco murmured as his hips began again. “Do you have plans this evening?”
Hermione threw her head back and laughed.

***

“Mmm, Draco,” she groaned, pressing back against the pile of pillows he’d propped her against. “That feels so good.”
His grey eyes sparkled as he smiled. “Astoria says I have hands like gold.”
“She’s not wrong,” Hermione said, her eyes closing against the wonderful sensation of Draco’s lithe thumbs pressing against the arch of her swollen foot. Gazing over her hugely rounded belly she grinned at her beautiful blonde lover. “She should be due any day now.”
He nodded. “She’s out with her mother now grabbing a few last minute things. Although I don’t know what else the brat could possibly need, the Manor is positively bursting with baby crap.”
Hermione grinned, knowing her own nursery was similarly packed. “She’s just excited. You still think it’s a boy?”
Draco puffed up his chest. “Of course it is! And his name will be Scorpius and he’ll be just as handsome as his father.”
Hermione snorted. “Hopefully a little less arrogant.”
Draco smirked. “Not likely.”
They laughed until Hermione cried out in pain, gripping her belly.
“Shit, shit, what do I do, is it coming?” Draco stammered, flying to his feet.
“No,” Hermione squeezed out, gripping the blankets below her as she moaned in pain. “Not-real-labor.”
Draco knelt beside her, hands flying to her hair and stomach as she breathed through the Braxton-Hicks contractions, gasping as the pain settled.
Draco brushed back her messy hair as she willed herself to be calm. She knew the false labor was preparing her body for birth, but she worried that they’d begun so early. She still had nearly a month to go…
“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, reading her expression like a book. She tried to ease her features and smiled at him.
“Nothing, just enjoying the wonderful side effects of having a child growing inside me,” she joked. Draco’s hands ran over her nearly bursting stomach, his expression saddening as it frequently did when he looked at her bump.
“And you still don’t know?” he asked for the hundredth time.
She shook her head sadly. “There’s no way I could know. We’ll just have to wait.”
Hermione felt a twinge of guilt as her hands joined Draco’s over her growing child. She had no clue whether the baby was Draco’s or Ron’s. She and Ron had been trying for nearly a year, and Hermione had been careless, not thinking to use Contraceptive Charms during her dalliances with Draco. She remembered two entirely different conversations with her men when she’d found out she’d conceived; the joy in Ron’s face as he’d whopped and spun her around their living room and the one of fear that had crossed Draco’s features when she explained that it could very possibly be his as the timeline led to a week when she’d had both men within days of each other.
But Draco had sworn, no matter who the father was, that he’d always be there for them both. He’d just joyously announced Astoria’s condition to her several weeks before and she was floored by his excitement at the prospect of fatherhood.
Hermione cringed as another pain gripped her body and Draco sat her up, rubbing small circles on her back, talking her through the pain.
She screamed, the sensation of her stomach ripping in half consuming her. Hermione reached for Draco’s hand and squeezed it while he stammered nervously.
“Something’s-not right,” Hermione gasped. She shouldn’t be in this much pain, not this soon. Draco cursed.
“Dammit, Hermione, we need to get you to St. Mungo’s,” he said, his voice shaking. Hermione looked down to where his gaze was and screeched in terror.
Blood pooled between her legs and onto their white comforter, her hands shaking as she gripped her stomach in fear.
“The baby, the baby-”
“Is going to be fine,” Draco said sternly, his face taut. “We’re going to get you to the hospital and everything is going to be fine.”
“Draco, you can’t-”
“I’m not leaving your side,” he growled fiercely. “Lay back, focus on your breathing, you need to stay calm for the child.”
Hermione knew he was right and allowed him to ease her back against the pillows, but fear gripped her and tears flooded her eyes. She couldn’t lose the baby, she couldn’t, she didn’t think she’d survive…
Please be alright, she begged the child in her womb, gripping her stomach tight.
Draco ran to the dresser, grabbing his wand and transfiguring his features, giving himself a black beard and shaggy black hair, conjuring square glasses and shoving them on his face, grabbing clothing from their wardrobe that he only wore with her and yanking them on, shrugging into a long brown coat before grabbing Hermione’s.
She cried out in pain as Draco helped her up; let him take her weight as he tugged her jacket on. Then he dipped down and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing despite the twenty pounds she’d put on since her conception.
“Everything is going to be alright, I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’ve got you both.”
He turned on the spot and with a crack! landed in the bustling entrance of St. Mungo’s.
“Help!” he cried out, hurrying through the throng of people towards the welcoming desk, ignoring people’s protests as she shoved his way to the front of the line, clutching Hermione tightly.
“She needs a Healer immediately!” he shouted at a harassed witch behind the desk. “The baby is coming early!”
The witch took one look at the blood still streaming down Hermione’s legs and waved her wand. “They’ll be down immediately, please take her to that hallway on the left, they’ll meet you there.”
Without even a word of thanks Draco turned and hurried through the crowds, cursing as Hermione screamed again in pain, digging her face into his neck as it ripped through her.
“You’re going to be fine, you’re both going to be fine, just hang on,” he chanted as people cleared a path for the two of them.
Two Healers met them with a floating gurney which Draco eased her down onto while she sobbed in agony.
“How far along is she?”
“Just over eight months,” Draco replied instantly, grabbing for her hand as she writhed in pain.
“Are you the father?” the other Healer asked as he turned the gurney with a flick of his wrist.
“I-er, no, I-I’m-”
“He found me in Diagon Alley,” Hermione panted through clenched teeth. “I collapsed and he helped me.”
“How very kind of you,” the first Healer smiled, not commenting on the fact that a complete stranger would know how far along she was in her pregnancy. “But I’m afraid it’s family only beyond this point. You’re welcome to wait-”
“I’m not leaving her-”
“I’m sorry, sir, it’s regulation-”
“NO!”
Hermione placed her hand on his arm. “I’ll be alright,” she told him before he could cause a scene. “Thank you so much for your assistance.”
Draco’s jaw clenched, his hand quaking in hers. Finally he nodded, dropped a kiss on her knuckles, wishing her well, and strode back down the hall.
“Who can we call for you?”

***

He’s gone.
Hermione tapped the coin sitting on the bed next to her and sent the message, turning back to the softly breathing infant curled on her chest. She smiled happily as her heart swelled with love.
She heard his crack! of Apparation immediately in the hall and her bedroom door eased open.
Draco slipped into the room she shared with Ron. His eyes said a thousand words as he gazed at the mother and child before him. Love, relief, longing, disappointment.
He wiped the last emotion from his face and strode to the pair, crouching beside them.
He reached out one quivering hand to the sleeping babe on her chest, stroking her plump cheek with the back of his index finger.
“She’s beautiful,” he whispered. “What did you name her?”
“Rose.”
Draco smiled, his thumb grazing the back of the infant’s hand which was nestled against her cheek. “Rose. It’s perfect.” Hermione’s heart caught as his fingers moved to the flaming red hair falling over her forehead. “She’s his?”
Not trusting her voice, Hermione lifted her wand, waving it over the child on her chest.
The ginger hair faded to its original silver and Draco let out a small, strangled sound. He caught her eye and she felt tears welling at the pained expression there.
“She’s mine?” he choked out and she nodded, a sob wrenched from her chest as he grinned. He leaned forward and caught her lips before turning back to his daughter. “May I?”
At her nod Draco carefully lifted the tiny girl into his hands, cradling her against his chest as she stirred before drifting back to sleep. He looked down at the baby, his eyes so full of love that Hermione fell for him even more.
“Rose. My sweet Rose,” he murmured, stoking her cheek once more and dropping a kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering as his eyes closed, branding the moment into his memory.
Hermione swiped at the tears on her cheek, remembering how terrified and yet blissfully pleased she’d been when she’d seen the silver hair emerging from her straining body. She’d managed a hurried wandless spell, changing the blonde locks orange before anyone noticed. Ron had been too preoccupied coaching Hermione through the difficult delivery to notice the child was emerging and the Healer had turned to grab more towels. By the time Ron had looked down and the Healer had turned back she’d been a Weasley.
Bu now she looked at the perfect child she’d made with Draco as she really was. Her platinum hair shined against her mother’s olive skin. She’d been born after twenty-eight agonizing hours, every moment of which Hermione had been terrified she’d lose her. But she’d emerged pink and screaming, too small, but absolutely perfect. They’d had to stay for several days for Hermione to heal from the massive blood loss she’d suffered and for the Healers to give Rose potions to assist her premature organs. By the time they’d arrived home both mother and child were perfectly healthy.
Ron was beside himself with happiness, taking to fatherhood swiftly, barely putting the little girl down. He’d been in tears when he’d arrived at the hospital with Harry and now he refused to let his girls out of his sight.
Hermione had finally gotten him to leave, begging him to run to the store for a ridiculous list of items they already had which she’d hidden in the back of their hallway closet. It had been nearly a week and her coin had been burning endlessly in desperation to see her and the child.
Hermione hummed in happiness at the image of father and child together. Draco was murmuring softly in his daughter’s tiny ear, playing with her little fingers, his eyes swollen with emotion.
He looked up, feeling her eyes on him. “Will you tell her? When she’s older?”
Hermione pursed her lips. “No. No, I’ll hide her hair with a permanent concealment charm I came across in case it worked out this way.”
He nodded, swallowing. “You know, Scorpius was born the same day as her.”
Hermione started. “You didn’t tell me. You have a son.”
He smiled. “He looks just like Rosie.”
Hermione’s heart clenched. “This will be the last time,” she said quietly, her heart breaking at his look. A tear slid down his face as he nodded. It pained her to take his child away from him, but she couldn’t torture them by letting them grow close until Rose got old enough to recognize his face and destroy their secret. It was best to sever the tie immediately. Rose was Ron’s child now. It was the way it had to be.
Placing one last, long kiss on her soft head, Draco lay the infant back on Hermione’s chest where she nuzzled and cooed. Draco swiped at the tears in his eyes and lay beside Hermione on her marriage bed, scooping them both into his chest.
“I’ll always love her,” he murmured against Hermione’s temple. “As I’ll always love you.”
Hermione leaned her head against his chest and enjoyed this single moment of having her baby and her father together in her arms. When Draco left, Rosie would be Ron’s in every way but one, a secret she would take with her to the grave.

***

Hermione sucked in a difficult breath and turned to the aged face of her daughter. “Rose, dear, could you go Flourish and Blotts for me? They released a new edition of Hogwarts: A History last week that I’d like to read.”
Rose looked hesitant to leave but finally nodded, squeezing her mother’s wrinkled hand before rising. “Of course. Do you need anything before I leave?”
“No, I’m fine. I love you,” she said, straining to hold back the tears that beckoned knowing this would be the last time she saw her daughter’s beautiful face.
“I love you, too,” she replied, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
The moment she closed the door behind her, Hermione reached her hand beneath her and grabbed the coin that rested against her hip, tapping out the words with her wand.
It’s time.
He was there as soon as the words disappeared, leaning heavily against her bedpost.
His blonde hair had turned white, his flawless skin was now heavily lined and lightly spotted with age. His hands trembled as he gazed down at her.
“No,” he said, tears coming to his beautiful eyes, the only part of him that still looked exactly the same as the first time she’d met him. “Don’t leave me. Please.”
“Come here,” she bade, lifting her hand towards him with difficulty. She could feel her death lingering just before her, her body heavy with it.
Draco ambled to her, his gait unsteady as it had been for the last twenty years. He took her lined hand and brought it to his mouth as he always did.
“I can’t,” he choked out.
“Lay with me.”
He limped to the other side of the bed, getting heavily into it as Hermione recalled the days when he used to toss her on the bed and pounce atop her. It had been many years since they’d been able to manage such a feat.
He drew her into his arms and she curled against him as she had hundreds of times over the years. He’d held her in sadness, in happiness, in grief, in love. They’d come together through deaths and births, through promotions and graduations. The years had brought myriad changes and challenges, and through it all, they’d held strong.
“I love you, Draco,” she said, leaning up for a last kiss. He cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against hers tenderly.
“I love you too, Hermione.”
She laid her heavy head back against his chest and was comforted by the sound of his heart. She wasn’t afraid to die; she’d lived many long, happy years. Now, it was time to rest.
But she worried over leaving Draco. Astoria had died young, leaving a hole in his heart. Hermione had filled it as best she could and urged him to find another wife, but he had shook the idea off, claiming her love was all he’d ever need. He had his work and Scorpius to keep him busy when she was gone.
Hermione remembered the pain of losing Ron several years ago. But Draco had held her through that too.
Their lives had been so full of adventure and love. They’d travelled the world together, tried everything from scuba diving to carpet flying to one very embarrassing one-on-one Quidditch match. They danced beneath the stars and kissed in the rain. They had romantic dinners boasting about their beautiful children and heated fights that left more than one bruise. Though their secret was at times seemingly impossible, they’d loved each other through it.
And now Hermione embraced the end of her wonderful life in the arms of her dragon.
“I’ll find you,” he murmured against her forehead. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you. We’ll be together again soon. Never doubt me.”
“I never have.”
“I promised you I would always be with you. I intend to keep that promise. No matter what may come.”
“No matter.”
Hermione closed her eyes as he kissed her head one last time and she smiled, looking forward to their next adventure.

***

XOXO
RynStar15
- 10
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Until Again