Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tuition Money	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 53031 -:- 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
- 12
- 13
- 14
A.N.-
Malfoy'sgirl, Sarah, Sherlocked17, HarryGinny4eva, General Crow, staar, ilariasantaniello:
Thank you all for the wonderful reviews!
Please see the replies to reviews from the last chapter on the forum:
http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/59048-review-replies-for-tuition-money/
I had a bit of writer’s block with this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it!
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Lucius kneeled on the floor next to his wife, waiting for the Aurors and a Healer to come through the Floo. She had been in a potions explosion and her exposed skin had been badly burned. It was a small mercy that she’d passed out from the pain.
He heard the Floo.
“In the potions lab!” he screamed, unwilling to leave Narcissa’s side.
Ron Weasley and a veteran Auror, Anthony Gould, ran into the room followed by a Healer and two mediwizards.
“She was working on an experimental potion. Her notes with the ingredients are on the table, next to her cauldron.”
The Healer scanned Narcissa and said something to the two mediwizards. They used their wands to levitate her to the Floo.
Auror Gould stopped Lucius at the Floo. “We’ll let you know how your wife is doing in a few hours.”
“No, I need to accompany her,” he said, stopping Auror Gould with his hand.
“Sir, your house arrest specifies that you are not to leave your home under any circumstances. We will contact you in a few hours.”
The imposing Auror pushed past Lucius and followed the group through the Floo to St. Mungo’s.
Ron cleared his throat. “I can contact your son and ask him to sit with Mrs. Malfoy.”
Lucius regarded the young man from the family he had always considered inferior to his own aristocratic line. He could see the young Weasley was sincere.
“Thank you, Auror Weasley. I would be most grateful for your assistance.”
Ron gave Lucius Malfoy a brief nod and called his destination into the flames.
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Draco sat by his mother’s bed at St. Mungo’s. Her reddened, scaly skin was covered with a thick, yellow salve. Her wrists were bound to the sides of the hospital bed. Draco had asked the Auror to remove her bonds, but he’d been told his mother was a flight risk.   Merlin, what a fucking joke! Her Healer didn’t even feel that she could withstand the pain of her skin regenerating, let alone get up and walk out of her hospital room.
The hospital door opened and Ron stepped into the room. “Hey, Malfoy. Can I get you anything?”
Draco stood and made his way to Hermione’s tall friend. “Will you let Hermione know what happened?”
“Yeah, sure, mate.”
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Hermione found Ron waiting for her in the kitchen of the flat.
“What happened?” She dropped her book bag on the counter and looked at Ron’s serious face, her stomach plummeting to the floor with worry.
“Malfoy’s mum was in a potions accident, but she’s at St. Mungo’s now. She was burned pretty badly. Old Lucius wanted to accompany her to the hospital, but it went against his house arrest. I offered to contact Malfoy so he could be there for her.”
Though she felt for Draco’s mother, she was relieved something hadn’t happened to Draco or her parents. God, the thought of something happening to her mum and dad and her not being there for them was one of her biggest worries.
“I’d like to make sure Draco’s alright. Let me grab a few things.”
“Okay, Mione.”
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Ron and Hermione walked the long hall to Narcissa Malfoy’s room.
“The Healers put Mrs. Malfoy in a potion-induced sleep. Apparently the healing salve to regenerate her skin is really painful, like ants biting you everywhere.” Ron shuddered.
“How long will she be sleeping?” Avoiding a run-in with Narcissa Malfoy was high on her priority list.
“The sleeping draught lasts from eight to twelve hours. She’s been here for about five hours, so you won’t have to deal with her.”
“Okay.”
Ron stopped at a door at the end of the hall. “They’re in here. Let me know if you need anything. I’ve been assigned to her.”
“Thanks, Ron.” She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, grateful to have her friend close by.
Pushing open the door quietly, she found Draco staring at his sleeping mother.
“Hi,” she murmured.
“Hey, love. What are you doing here?” He looked tired. His clothing was rumpled from shifting in a seat for hours.
“I figured you probably left the flat without anything, so I brought you a few things and some dinner. And I wanted to check on you. How’s your mother faring?”
“Her skin is looking better than when I first arrived, but I think she’ll be in quite a bit of pain when she wakes.”
Draco sighed and put his arms around her waist. Gods, she smelled brilliant. This room smelled like potions and cleaning agents, but Hermione smelled like lavender and eucalyptus and warmth. She squeezed him and nuzzled her face into his shirt. He led her to a small table with two chairs by an enchanted window displaying a field of flowers.
“Merlin, I’m starved. What did you bring?”
Hermione chuckled. He didn’t eat like Ron, but Draco ate very regularly and when he didn’t, he was miserable.
“Just some leftovers from this week: quiche, pasta salad, the chocolate chip cookies I made yesterday.” She laid out the food on the table and Conjured glasses for water.
Hermione wasn’t very hungry and watched Draco dig into the meal while she sipped her water. He finally looked up to find her staring out the enchanted window.
“What’s wrong?”
Hermione turned her gaze on him. “When I saw Ron in the flat and knew something had happened, I had this horrible feeling you or my parents had been hurt or killed. I’m so sorry about your mother, but I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened…” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m overreacting.”
“No, you’re not. Come here.” He held his arms out to her and she sat in his lap, burying her head in his neck. She clung to him like she’d almost lost him. Hermione had shared thoughts and ideas with him, had offered him her friendship and love, but he always wondered if she worried about him like he worried for her.
“Are you coming home tonight?”
His lips pressed into her neck. “Yeah. I have to be out at ten. Can you stay for a few more minutes?”
She nodded into his neck. “I love you,” she said, ever so quietly.
“I love you, too.”
What was this life he now found himself living? It was sometimes unfathomable to him that this woman, this beautiful, gifted, sensitive person, had actually given him a chance and now stood between him and a life of solitude and regret. He wondered if he could be honest with his mother about Hermione. Draco intended for Hermione to be his if she’d have him. A part of him hoped his mother would appreciate how happy Hermione made him and accept her place in his life. He’d have an opportunity to talk to his mother during her convalescence.
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Hermione had just sunk into the deep bathtub when she heard Draco Apparate into the flat. She was irritated with herself for letting her emotions get ahold of her at the hospital when she should have been comforting him. It was shocking, really, for her to realize how devastated she would be if anything happened to Draco. It had been a punch to her gut to imagine what could have happened to him. After he’d been cornered at the university when they’d first begun their arrangement, she’d been aware that he was in danger. She practiced Alastair Moody’s constant vigilance for herself, but that day had made it abundantly clear that the wizarding world had not forgiven the Malfoys for their part in the war. He watched out for himself, but the odds were not in his favor with so many wanting to seek vengeance on the Malfoys.
He found her in the candle-lit bathroom and watched her for a moment. Her eyes were closed as she breathed in the fragrance of clary sage and ylang-ylang.
“Come join me,” she murmured, opening her eyes.
He began stripping off his clothes while she admired his sleek body. The dragon tattoo on his arm stood out against all that pale skin. She secretly wanted him to get another tattoo, along the side of his ribcage or on his muscular thigh. Body art on him didn’t look cliché or like he was trying to be tough. He had scars all over to prove his ability to withstand pain. On Draco, tattoos enhanced his already too-perfect handsomeness with something that was him, but not him at the same time.
He stepped into the steaming water and sat between Hermione’s open legs, leaning his head back onto her shoulder.
“Hi,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his chest.
“Hi.”
He let his body relax into her soft curves. Her hands lightly kneaded the tense muscles above his breastbone. Her breasts and pebbled nipples were pressed into his back and her soft, hot pussy was pushed up against his lower back.
“Fuck, pet,” he groaned as her fingers grazed his nipples. Both her hands continued a path down his torso, kneading and massaging while her nose nuzzled his jaw. His hands ran up and down her slick legs as her delicate arches slid along his calves. Finally, Merlin, finally, her hand gripped his erection.
“Gods, love,” Draco murmured, enjoying her slow strokes. Her thumb caressed the sensitive underside of his head as her hand made its way up and down his cock. His face turned toward hers to capture her lips. Their tongues slowly danced while they enjoyed the leisurely pace of the experience.
Breaking the kiss, Draco let his head roll back onto her shoulder. “I want to bury my tongue in your pussy,” he whispered into her ear. Her hand tightened on his length.
“I wanted this evening to be for you,” she argued, her voice breathy with need.
“Suck me while I lick you,” he suggested and nipped at her earlobe.
She let go of his huge cock and let him help her to her feet. He wrapped her in a towel and picked her up bridal style, heading to his richly-appointed bed. As with many things they’d done, this was new to Hermione. No sooner had she started to consider the logistics when Draco put her feet on the ground. He grabbed her hand and led her onto the bed, first laying himself down while she kneeled beside him. His hand came up to fondle her breast.
“Let me taste your sweet, tight cunt,” he said as his fingers plucked at her nipple. Shoring up her courage she turned away from him then straddled his face. He pulled her down so he could immerse himself in her sex. His tongue licked up her seam, his fingers parted her sensitive flesh, and his lips brushed against her hard, little clit.
“Oh my God, Malfoy,” Hermione moaned.
His swollen, ruddy shaft bobbed before her and she leaned down to engulf him with her mouth. She could taste the musky flavor of his pre-cum as she swirled her tongue over him. This angle allowed her to take him deep into her throat and caused him to suckle harder at the bundle of nerves at her core. He added a second finger to her dripping sex, pumping in and out of her tight, moist body.
She used one hand to fist him while her other hand gently rolled his bollocks. Hermione let her hand wander from his twin sac to the sensitive area below, stroking him with a firm finger. He curled a finger within her to massage the spongy tissue of her g-spot while continuing the assault on her clit. It was too much and Hermione felt her body clench, then release an intense wave of pleasure as she came. She took Draco into her throat and moaned, the vibrations causing him to spill his seed into her mouth. Hermione swallowed, not ready to end this sexual closeness just yet.
With the tiniest touch causing her to whimper, she finally let him out of her mouth and disengaged herself from him. He gathered her in his arms, delicately kissing her sore mouth. Her taste was on his tongue, his lips, his skin. The act they’d just engaged in was so primal, so animalistic, but it felt as if they’d claimed each other. She couldn’t imagine feeling such intense need for someone else, might even find the act of mutual oral pleasure distasteful with another man, but with Draco it was merely a natural expression of her love and desire for him. She wondered if this feeling would last, like a bank of coals ready to ignite with a bit of prodding or if the fire would burn out with a strong gust of wind. Hermione honestly did not know, but she hoped it would be the former.
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After a day spent in his mother’s room, Draco had been appreciative when Hermione had shown up with dinner. They’d talked quietly as they ate, conscious of the fact that Narcissa needed to sleep through her painful treatment.
Draco sighed as Hermione feathered her hand through his hair. His head was cradled on her lap on a transfigured sofa in the hospital room.
“Her wrists aren’t healing with the restraints rubbing against the salve.”
“That’s unacceptable. I’ll go speak to the Auror in charge of her case.”
“I’ve spoken to Auror Gould and he won’t relent. You don’t have to get involved, Hermione.”
“I know I don’t, but the way you described the damage, she might not have sensation on her wrists if they don’t heal properly.”
Unbeknownst to the couple, Narcissa had woken and had been surreptitiously listening to them.
“I would be grateful, but you don’t have to do this for her.”
“You love her. It would be a weight off your mind, yeah?”
“Well, yes.” Draco pulled Hermione down to kiss her. “Thank you.”
When Draco had visited the manor and told his parents he was seeing Hermione Granger, Lucius had assumed their relationship was to help Draco ingratiate himself with the powers-that-be. Narcissa had seen an unexpected expression on her son’s face when he referred to the famous war heroine, but Draco hadn’t corrected his father. She had wondered if there was more to his connection to the Muggle-born and now she could see there was. That the young witch was willing to use her sway to help Narcissa made her heart clench after the torture Miss Granger had endured in their home.
“I have to run back to the library, so I’m going to go.”
Draco trailed his fingers along her thick plait. “Please be careful. Why don’t you wait until tomorrow morning? Did you need the book tonight?”
Hermione kissed him and stood. “Yes, I need the book tonight. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
She collected her bag and left the dimly-lit room. Draco began to stretch out on the sofa when he heard his mother clear her throat. He quickly made his way to her bed.
“Mother, shall I call a mediwitch?” He held a glass of water to her lips. She took a sip and turned her head.
“No, son. I can wait until the Healer comes to re-administer my potions. Will you adjust my bed so I can sit up?”
He did as she bade, surprised by her improved looks. Within a few days her skin had gone from scabbed and peeling to red, but smooth. It was ironic that his mother had gone through a war, had lived in a house filled with absolute psychos and a potions accident was what put her in the hospital.
“Are you hungry? I can call for some food.”
“No, but thank you. Whatever potions I’m on have suppressed my appetite.” She shifted in the bed, her bound wrists causing her to wince.
“I’ve been by to see Father to apprise him of your condition. He’s quite worried.” In fact, Draco had rarely seen his father so upset. Lucius had been furious that the Aurors hadn’t let him accompany his wife to St. Mungo’s, but he was thankful Draco had been tending to Narcissa.
“Thank you for going to see him. I know you don’t like visiting the manor.” Narcissa gave him a sad smile.
“I’m glad I’ve been able to help you and Father.” He gave his mother a reassuring smile. Narcissa had trouble believing that her son was well and truly a man now. He held himself with such conviction. She wondered if some of that had to do with his young lady.
“I overheard you speaking to your Miss Granger when I first woke.”
He quietly considered what she had heard. “She wants to speak to Auror Gould about the restraints on your wrists. Hermione’s worried it will impede your recovery.”
Narcissa shook her head in disbelief. “Is she always so…caring?”
He looked right into his mother’s blue eyes. “She is the epitome of good, Mother.”
“But I have wronged her, Draco. She was tortured in my home, by my sister.”
“Would you like to meet her? I l—she means a great deal to me,” he finished, knowing his mother had probably guessed what he was about to say.
“Yes, I would like to meet her. Perhaps she can come closer to the time I will be waking tomorrow evening?”
Draco nodded. “I’ll ask her to come.”
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