Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

My Savior	By : ShelbieRae Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9298 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own harry Potter, and I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
A/N: This story has it's hooks in me, and it won't let go!
Regardless, here is the chapter you all have been waiting on!
Everyone was staring.
Draco knew they would, but it didn't serve to calm down his own nerves or his Veela's protective nature. He tightened his fingers around Hermione's more delicate hand as they walked to the Great Hall for breakfast.
He had to give it to his headstrong mate: she was not to be trifled with. Draco was used to people being ashamed of him; he would not have been surprised if at any second Hermione ripped her hand from his and gave him a sneer of disgust. Instead, Hermione held her head high and glared at anyone who looked as though they would give their opinion on the matter.
Once they reached the grandiose doors of the Great Hall, Draco stopped dead in his tracks and pulled Hermione to stand in front of him. She blinked at him in confusion, and before she could question what he was doing, he interrupted her.
"Granger, you don't have to go in there with me. I've already seen the ridiculous glares and heard the whispers that you have already had to endure thus far, and it's not really fair to you to have to deal with that. I'm going to let you go in ahead of me, so less people talk."
Hermione stared at him blankly for a few seconds longer before her face broke out into one of annoyance.
"Draco," she emphasized his first name, "I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to be with you. So let them stare. Let them talk. Let them think what they want. People have already seen, and everyone will know soon anyway."
She pulled him closer and kissed him softly on the lips. When she drew back, she kept her face very close to his and looked him dead in the eye.
"I didn't fight in a bloody war for everyone to still be divided and sit behind lines. I didn't fight for hatred to still exist on either side. I don't give a damn what anyone has to say, I am happy," she whispered vehemently.
Draco looked at her in awe before her tightened his arms around her. Finally, if for no other reason that to feel like his normal self again, he smirked and let out a sarcastic quip.
"Alright, Granger, if you want to give them a show, we'll give them a show. I doubt anyone can help but be impressed by the Golden Girl's ability to tame her very own Death Eater."
She giggled as he grasped her hand firmly and finally walked through the doors to the Great Hall.
As he suspected, the minute they entered the room everyone grew silent, and thousands of eyes met theirs, drawn open in shock. Hermione met them all with a challenging look, and Draco simply tried to look straight ahead at the professor's table. He was grateful, because McGonagall, for her part, just looked annoyed at the disruption than shocked.
Hermione turned to Draco and murmured softly to him, "Would you like to sit with me at Gryffindor's table?"
The scowl he sent her way let her know just how distasteful the idea was to him, but then he glanced at the Slytherin table. Pansy was shooting daggers at Hermione, and even Blaise, with his normally nonchalant attitude, looked puzzled and had a furrowed brow.
Draco had a decision to make. As much as he despised Gryffindors, with their constant need to meddle and see the good in everything, he was even less inclined to sit alone at his own house's table, because he knew that there was no way, especially now, that any of them would welcome him with open arms.
Finally, reluctantly, he nodded and followed her lead to sit down next to her friends. The Great Hall was still deadly quiet by the time they reached them, and Draco finally had enough.
"Don't you all have something better to do?" he drawled in a loud voice, attempting to sound bored with just the right amount of annoyance.
Gradually, the eyes in the Great Hall left Draco and Hermione, and the dull roar of noise grew. Draco cautiously sat down next to Hermione, grabbing for a piece of toast, deciding that he had lost his appetite. Draco knew that he always exuded a level of confidence and arrogance that came naturally with the Malfoy name, but he didn't like being examined. He was a private person, and he hated it when people stared at him like he belonged in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Hermione's friends were all trying to discreetly observe Draco, with the exception of Longbottom. He was staring at Draco, mouth agape, a look of confusion gracing his features.
Hermione, not looking up from her own toast and porridge, tried to casually start up a conversation with Longbottom to distract him.
"Neville, how are the Devils Snare plants fairing in the greenhouse. Will they be ready for the second stage of growth by Thursday's lesson?"
Longbottom stared at Draco for several more seconds before his eyes shifted to Hermione's expectant gaze.
"Y-yes, they should be," Neville answered shortly, before flitting his eyes back to Draco. Draco gave him a half-hearted sneer in an attempt to scare him away, which only served to widen his eyes.
Giving up, Draco aggressively bit into his toast, before looking across the table and meeting the eyes of the Weaselette. She smirked at him and gave him a wink, causing Draco to almost drop his toast in shock. She knew.
Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione, who had watched the interaction and had the decency to look chagrined. Draco could faintly feel her guilt.
While Draco was slightly annoyed, he found that he could not be mad at Hermione. He should have been terrified; should the news get out that there was a male Veela, an ex-Death Eater and a Malfoy no less, there would surely be uproar amongst the Wizarding Community. But, he found that he surprisingly trusted Hermione and her judgement; he knew that if she trusted the youngest Weasley to keep their secret, she would take it to the grave.
Finally, it seemed that Longbottom could no longer keep his thoughts to himself.
"Hermione, you know I adore you and I trust your judgment, but why is Malfoy sitting at our table?"
Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas nodded and gave Draco nasty glares.
"Why, Longbottom, are you talking about said handsome, clever, and wonderful wizard, as if he is not even here?" Draco said haughtily while straightening his already-straight tie.
Weaslette snorted into her pumpkin juice, while Finnigan and Thomas scowled.
"Ye wish," Finnigan sneered at him in his thick Scottish accent.
Before a fight could break out, Hermione slammed her palm on the table, making goblets shutter. Draco jumped and looked at his mate, who looked furious and agitated. He smirked. He wished the best of luck to Finnigan, Thomas, and Longbottom. His mate was not to be messed with. He smirked faded when she turned her stern expression on his as well.
Draco was suddenly very interested in his own pumpkin juice.
"Neville, while I respect your concern, as well and Seamus's and Dean's, I am a big girl, and I can take care of myself. Draco has been perfectly respectful and has given you no reason to question his presence here."
Neville furrowed his nose in disgust and Draco smirked at him.
Hermione turned and met Draco's eyes with a stern set to her jaw. She raised her eyebrow.
"Draco, darling, you better behave yourself too," she said sweetly, bringing her palm to his face. The Veela inside him purred in delight and he had to fight to keep his eyelids from fluttering. Longbottom's mouth was agape once again. The young Weasley had a shit eating grin on her face; she was enjoying this immensely.
"We wouldn't want you to get over-excited like you did the other night and make a mess of yourself," Hermione finished, still in her sweet voice, feigning concern.
Draco's eyes shot open and met hers in shock and outrage. He knew she was referring to the incident with McLaggen, but the rest of the Gryffindors did not. He knew what they would be thinking instead, and he knew damn well that Hermione did as well.
He snapped his jaw closed and turned to glower at his toast, sulking. Hermione smirked at her own toast and turned to take a bite. Draco simply couldn't leave it; he had to get back at her somehow.
He leaned in so he could whisper, loud enough for her to hear, but quiet enough that no one else could, "Oh sweetheart," he crooned, certain his Veela was making his voice drip like honey on purpose. Hermione stiffened, and her breath caught. "I've never had any complaints about, what did you say it was? Being over-excited? You can rest assured that I always bring satisfaction before letting my excitement be known."
When he pulled away with a smirk on his face, Hermione's face was red, and he could feel her embarrassment. He also felt another emotion. Jealousy? Granger was jealous? His smirk grew into a full-on grin, and Hermione glared at him through her embarrassment.
Hermione could feel the male satisfaction pulsing through him, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from yelling at him. She didn't want to bring any more attention to them than they already had. She could not believe how much one little action and just a few little words could send feelings of desire so strong she could barely stand it straight to her core.
Hermione continued to munch on her toast quietly through breakfast, annoyance rolling off of her in waves. What made him think he could behave in such a manner? Did he think he was the only one who could play at this game?
She couldn't let him get away with this.
She wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction.
Hermione grinned triumphantly, a plan already hatching in her head.
Draco knew that he should be cautious. He could feel the smugness coming from his mate the entire time they were walking together to Potions. Had it not been the stares and the gossip still happening, he would have spent more time mulling over why Hermione could possibly feel so smug.
When they got to Potions, conversation came to an abrupt halt. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed Draco's hand, pulling them towards their work bench. After several minutes of near quiet and continued whispers, Professor Slughorn entered the classroom to begin their lesson.
"Hello, my wonderful, bright students! I trust you have all done the required reading and have figured out what potion we will be working on for the next few months!"
Hermione's hand, as usual, was the first to shoot up in the air.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Slughorn crowed with delight.
"Amortentia." She answered confidently.
Slughorn beamed at her. "Correct!"
Hermione blossomed under his approval. Draco looked at her from the corner of his eye. Instead of his usual annoyance at her incessant need to know everything and show everyone as such, he felt an unfamiliar burst of pride. His mate was extremely intelligent and had fought tooth and nail to show that she belonged in this world. She had proven him and so many others wrong on numerous occasions.
He could not help the large smile he was directing her way. She looked up at him, realizing that he was staring and gave him an odd smile.
Hermione could not understand why Malfoy was staring at her in such a way. She gave him a funny look, until she felt a euphoric feeling coming from him.
He was proud of her.
Hermione beamed back at him and turned her attention back to the front.
Draco tried to focus on the front of the class where Slughorn had unveiled a cauldron of Amortentia. He was talking about the ingredients and the procedure, which was going to prove to be a long one. As Draco was writing down the complex instructions, the fumes from the potion wafted back towards him, smelling much the same as they did during his sixth year. The hint of cinnamon, old books, and springtime assaulted his senses, and the Veela inside him jumped in anticipation.
The last time he had experienced this, he had been much too preoccupied with dark, churning thoughts, that he had dismissed the smells as an annoyance. Now that he was smelling them, he couldn't help but think about the irony.
His entire common room was a combination of these smells.
Even before he knew he was a Veela, the potion was telling him that she was right in front of him, and he had been too blind to see it.
He glanced over at Hermione to see that she had a confused look on her face. He nudged her softly and gave her a questioning look. She smiled and shook her head. 'I'm okay,' she mouthed. He hesitated, then smiled, turning his eyes once again to the toad-like professor.
He and Hermione sat in comfortable proximity to one another for the rest of the class. She didn't say much about her strange reaction, and Draco had forgotten about it by the time Slughorn dismissed them for the day. Grabbing her hand, he escorted her to their next class, and for the first time that day, was able to ignore the furious, curious, and chastising looks of the other students.
After dinner was over, Hermione told Malfoy she would meet him in the common room to go do homework together, after she stopped by the library for some books she had wanted to read about Veelas.
She was making her way back to the common room, a stupid smile on her face. If someone would have told her years ago that she would have been thinking of Draco Malfoy, the stupid smirk he always had, the sarcasm, the quick retorts, and smiling she would have told them to check into St. Mungo's.
However, here she was, thinking not only about those things, but about the way his brow furrowed when he was slaving over a particularly hard essay, the way he looked when he had just gotten up in the morning, the way he smiled when he was reading a rather amusing passage in one of his favorite novels. A giddy feeling that she had not felt since Ron, and even then, it had not been as strong, rose in her stomach, and she could not control the giggle that escaped.
Her mind turned to Potions that day and the new potion they were to be working on. She was familiar with it, as it was included in the class during her 6th year, but they had never brewed it, and it was going to prove to be difficult. She had no doubts that her and Draco could handle it; they were both the top of their class.
She furrowed her brow as she thought about the scents that she had smelled. They were no different. She still smelt freshly mowed grass, mint toothpaste, and parchment. There was a time that she was sure it meant that she was fated for Ron, and that made her so very happy. Now, she was concerned. Did it still mean that she had feelings for him or he for she?
Filing the concern into the back of her mind, she came to the common room door, muttered the password, and clambered through. Draco was already sitting at their table, supplies spread around him. The smell of fresh parchment hit her and she smiled at him, greeting him with a small peck. Though it had only be 24 hours since they had made the huge step in their relationship, she felt as though she had known him this way for centuries.
"Are you ready to get started, love?" he asked her with a grin.
Hermione, remembering her brilliant plan for revenge, smiled and said, "Yes, darling, just give me one second."
She practically skipped to her room and shut the door behind her.
Draco stared in apprehension at her door. He could feel her mischievous feelings, and he had a terrible sense of foreboding.
Inside her room, Hermione dug around in her trunk till she found what she had been looking for. The last summer, Ginny and her had gone shopping, and Ginny had bought her a short, silk nighty as a joke, but Hermione had secretly loved the feeling of the soft emerald fabric. Slipping out of her school clothes, she donned the beautiful gown and let her curls fall down her back.
Stepping out into the common room, she snuck up behind Draco and wrapped her arms around him. His hand came up to caress her arm, and she looked at her out of the corner of his eye with a smile.
He froze.
Draco whipped his head the rest of the way around and took in his beautiful mate.
She was dressed in a beautiful, and oh so very short silk and lace nighty. Her long, tan legs went on for miles, her long chestnut hair framed her face and flowed over her soft chest, where her nipples were hardening into peaks from the cold. His breath caught.
And she was in Slytherin green.
The little minx.
She would surely be the death of him.
Draco had no idea how he managed to not come in his pants right then and there.
Hermione grinned.
"Is something the matter, dear?" she questioned lightly, emphasizing the endearment.
Draco tried to swallow and found that he was unable to do so on the first few tries. When he finally found his voice, it was hoarse.
"No, of course not." He answered.
He would play her game. He would play it well.
Draco tried to concentrate on homework. He really did. But with Hermione uncrossing and recrossing her long legs, making the nighty slide further up, he couldn't make himself concentrate on crush beetles' wings.
He tried to distract her just as much. He tried running his hand down her arm or up her leg absentmindedly, but she would just smile at him, like she knew exactly what she was doing.
And Draco had no doubt that she did.
When Hermione got up to peruse the bookshelf for a specific book, and stood on her toes, letting the nighty come up just under her arse, Draco could no longer take it.
He got up and began stalking towards her like she was prey. When he turned her around and pushed her up against the shelves, she let out a little shriek, followed by a laugh. She smirked at him, teasing him.
Draco growled and felt his fangs elongate.
Hermione bit her lip, and Draco was done for.
He smashed his lips to hers, picking her up and pressing her harder against the shelves. She let out a cross between a gasp and a moan, and he took the opportunity to let his tongue play with hers. She was panting, tightening her legs around him, and Draco was going mad. He didn't think he had ever been this hard. He ground his erection into her center and she let out a low moan that enticed the Veela inside him, and it was all Draco could do to keep from taking her right there against the bookshelf.
He resurfaced for air and found her staring at him, breathing heavy, with wide eyes.
He smirked at her, and murmured, "You did this on purpose didn't you, my little minx?"
She grinned at him, and answered in an attempted nonchalant manner, "I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear."
Hermione wiggled in an attempt to get down, and Draco let her, keeping his arms around her. He kissed her forehead, her nose, and attempted to kiss her lips, but she pressed her fingers to his mouth. She gave him a smirk that any Slytherin would be proud of, and wiggled free of his grasp, walking back to the table.
Taking her time, Hermione bent over the desk and gathered her things, giving Draco a nice, long look at her backside.
Draco's mouth was watering, and he wanted nothing more than to run his tongue all over the exposed flesh. He was just about to voice what he thought to be a wonderful suggestion, when he noticed she was walking towards her bedroom door.
"Where are you going?" he demanded with a strained voice and strained voice.
Hermione turned back around and slowly ran her gaze up Draco's body, pausing longer than necessary on his length, before meeting his eyes.
"I'm tired, darling, and I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Sweet dreams," she murmured blowing him a kiss.
Draco was barely able to hear the sound of her laughter over the growl that ripped from his throat.
A/N: Okay, so this chapter went in a direction I did not plan for, I just could not resist. When I wrote my outline, I totally planned something different, which means the story will likely be longer than I originally planned.
One more thing: Since it is now summer, and I have no more school, I am taking one-shot or short story requests. If I love it enough, I may even turn it into a full-length fic. Comment the idea or private message me, and I will attempt to publish it as soon as I can. Give me ideas, guys! I am DYING to write now that I finally have the time.
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My Savior