Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You Won't Know	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 16449 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the fandom. J.K. Rowling does. I do not make any profit from Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter List
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Malfoy could not recall the last time his life seemed to work so well. All his hard work was finally coming to fruition, and soon he would have exactly what he wanted.

It had taken only a short amount of time to arrest him. He had been found at the bar, nursing a bottle of fire whiskey and bemoaning the fact that Hermione had left him. He hoped the reporters had a field day with that.

Now that Malfoy was the most powerful member of the Wizengamot, although not the most senior, it would be very easy to see these things through to the end.

He wanted to go to Weasley’s cell this instant and laugh in his face, but that would come in due time.

He hoped Hermione was okay. He hadn’t meant to be so hurtful the last time, but it was necessary. If they were going to be together, then he had to make it look as if Weasley had done it.

Even she would understand that type of logic.

An owl dropped in with a message, and Malfoy picked up the scribbled note.

Ah, so Potter wished to talk? Best not keep him waiting…

Harry was waiting in the foyer of Malfoy manor, an imposing building which looked as if it was the setting of horrible deeds—as it often had been—but no longer. The elder Malfoys were long dead and the son was all that remained.

Malfoy gracefully descended the stairs, an imposing figure dressed all in black. Harry was one of the few people who was not cowed by Malfoy’s appearance and made an effort to appear oblivious.

“You’ve heard?”

“About Weasley? Then yes.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“As a judge or as a Malfoy?”

“Do you think it’s true?” Harry repeated, irritated.

Malfoy gave him a hard stare, so much like Lucius that it was irritating, “I would not have thought he could do something like that. But the evidence clearly indicates otherwise. He does not have a criminal record, or any history violence....”

Harry’s nose twitched, “I just wanted to know what you thought is all. I can’t believe it myself.”

But he does have a history of violence, doesn’t he? And you know what that will mean, don’t you? Yessss, Potter, they will take one look at the evidence and condemn him for a score of things—just wait and see. Just wait…

Harry looked away, “What do you think he should do? Because he didn’t do it—I know he didn’t.”

Malfoy chose his words carefully, “No matter what, this case will go before the court. There’s just to much evidence…to many witnesses. A defense is all he needs. Besides, he is Ronald Weasley, the hero—very few will want to see that image tarnished.”

Potter looked at his feet, “Yea, I figure you’d say that.” He looked at him, “Will you be on this case?”

“Possibly.”

“You worried?”

Malfoy knew he had to say something that sounded friend-ish, so he picked, “I hope it is something I can do unbiased if that responsibility falls to me, but it is not one I would want.”

Potter nodded, “Yea, me neither.” He turned to go and raised his hand in good bye.

Malfoy watched him go, and thought of Hermione. Soon.

_______________________________

Hermione was in a daze, had been ever since she had heard the news. Ron had killed?

Last night, after hurting her? What was going on? Did she even know him?

The house was quiet—empty—and she felt lonely. There was a cracking noise, signaling an apparition and she wondered if Ginny or Harry had returned.

Steps came up the stairs, and she heard doors opening, until finally her door opened. Hermione barely turned to give Draco Malfoy a barely perceptible nod.

She didn’t know why he was here.

The room was bright—like all of the rooms in Ginny’s house—and so Malfoy looked completely out of place in the doorway with his too dark robes and very gothic appearance.

“What are you doing here?” She quietly asked.

Malfoy always made her uncomfortable—in the way being around an ex-Nazi might make someone uncomfortable. He’d renounced his beliefs, yes, but she always had this niggling doubt if that was ever completely possible—to simply toss aside what you’d been raised, from birth, to believe. Was it burned into your pychi? Did you ignore it? How did you do that?

He came into the room and stood over her—towered over her, more like.

“Weasley’s in prison.” He softly said.

She nodded, bleakly.

“I put him there.” He fairly crooned, then dropped to his knees, looking up at her with wide, silver eyes.

Hermione stared stupidly at Malfoy’s head, which was resting in her lap, before reacting as if someone had lit her on fire. She flung him away and stumbled backwards.

“W-what? What did you say?”

Malfoy crawled towards her, and Hermione looked for her wand—where was it, “Acc—“

“Silencio!” Draco hissed. “Better.”

She tried to crawl away but he tackled her to the carpeted floor, and she froze, horrified and stunned. Malfoy, not Ron, was the insane one.

Malfoy inhaled her hair, down her neck and kissed her throat. The marks were long gone, thanks to healing potions, but she was sensitive nonetheless.

“Why do I like to do this all the time with you,” he moaned against her, rubbing his hard cock against her, “Why do you make me want to do such crazy things?”

Hermione didn’t know what to say.

He breathed heavily and shifted, sitting on her so that she was pinned between his legs. He stared down at her.

“whatever I feel for you isn’t normal Hermione…Merlin…” He looked like he was in pain, “I’ve decided to make it so that we can be together. We will be together.”

She was shaking her head no, and he grabbed her face, “I want to see you nod your head, and say yes. Yes you will stay with me. Yes, you won’t leave me. Yes to everything, because if you don’t I will make sure Weasley suffers the worse fate for his crimes. Do you understand?”

Hermione was shaking her head and moving her mouth but no sound would come out. Angry, Malfoy dug his hands into her hips, “It would be so easy to end his life, just one little word, one little accident—he doesn’t have a wand. He doesn’t have any friends, except Potter but that only goes so far. And besides…” Draco smirked, “He tried to kill you.”

When he saw realization sink in, Draco felt a satisfied smile split his face, “Yes, do you see now? Do you see? You are such a horrible, horrible woman. You believed he had tried to kill you. Don’t even recognize your own lover, do you? I think you wanted me to fuck you that night.”

Malfoy lifted up her night gown and ran his hand over her pussy. He knew exactly how to get her wet, “I think you knew it was me, and I think you wanted me to take me cock and stick in you, didn’t you? Why look—just look how wet you are.”

Aghast, Hermione was ashamed and humiliated. She was wet. She was so wet she might as well have been primed for the best sex ever—but this was Malfoy. The one who had tried to kill her, disguised as Ron. The one who had set Ron up!

Was she mad too? She was so confused, so hurt, she wanted the void to swallow her up.

Malfoy released his cock, and her eyes widened—he was huge.

“Is this what you want?” He stroked his cock, “I won’t deny you.”

Then he eased it inside, all the while staring at her. “Hermione, I want you to look at me when I’m fucking you. I want you to see who is fucking you, who makes you feel so good before—“ He pulled out and slammed back in.

She arched her back in pleasure and shame,

“—pouring cum into you.”

Hermione wanted to cover her face, but every time she did, he dug his fingers painfully into her hips.

He pounded in and out, and it wasn’t long before he came inside her, pouring cum into her, so much that it leaked out and ran down her thighs.

Stunned, and filled with self loathing she tried to roll away but he caught her up in his arms, “If you tell anyone, and trust me, I’ll know, Weasley is dead. I’ve already got someone ready to kill him.”

This was the first time, Malfoy realized, he wasn’t erasing her memory, and he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort in that. Soon…

He left her there, and Hermione burst into tears. Never in her life had she felt so helpless.
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