Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Three Conditions	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 48512 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the HP universe. JK Rowling does. I just borrow her toys and put them back in reletively decent shape when I'm through. I make no money doing this, which is why I work two jobs.

Chapter List
- 14
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- 16
It had taken monumental effort not to scream, laugh, or pass out. Sex magic? Was Malfoy insane?
“You’ve been silent for a very long time,” Malfoy said, interrupting the very thin line she’d been balancing on.
“You’re joking,” she said, her voice dead.
Malfoy shook his head. “It’s unorthodox, but it could work.”
She snorted, her mind still churning. “Let’s say, for just a moment, I entertain that ludicrous idea. How does it work?”
“Sex magic is a very fluid type of magic, more will-based than anything most wizards or witches will dabble in. The results are… unpredictable.”
“Unpredictable,” she hissed and stood to get up in his face. “Like when they tried it in the 1347 to heal the black plague and ended up killing half the muggle population? Or unpredictable like when they tried it to save the minister’s daughter and spread yellow fever to half the wizarding population in 1726?”
“It doesn’t always work that way,” Malfoy chided. “Countless witches and wizards have been saved from a range of maladies for centuries. Why, I believe Merlin himself saved Nimue once.”
She huffed. “Then explain the plagues.”
“Botched experiments,” he said smoothly. “You can’t have an orgy with muggles near death and expect good results, no matter how much you think you love them. The connection must be profound.”
“Love?”
He shook his head. “Love isn’t required. It helps, but all you need is focus and a connection on an intimate level, beyond the obvious. You can’t just be like, hey, that bird looks nice. Shame she’s bleeding out. We’ll just play a bit of slap and tickle, see if we can’t fix it.”
“And you think that’s how the plague started?”
“Actually, no. The couple in question were on the run when the woman fell ill. They tried to heal her to keep running. I doubt they had fair trials back then. Anyway, it was a hurried job and neither was well versed in the act. She was cured but they were caught and the muggles ran into the magical backlash.”
“Bam, black plague.”
“Pretty much,” he said quietly. “If we do this, no one but those involved in the ritual will be allowed in the hut. We can’t risk anyone else becoming afflicted.”
She placed her hand over her abdomen. “The baby.”
“That’s why Snape wanted us to discuss this in private. You have the best connection with Potter and the best chance of saving him with sex magic. But the pregnancy is an unknown. Every scrap of history we can find says that the baby is not harmed but it isn’t a common practice.”
She rubbed her forehead, the headache that was just blooming when she left the hut was now thundering in her temples. “If, and that is a monumental if, I decided to go through with that, I’m not sure it’s possible. Besides the fact that it could possibly harm the baby and the results would not be guaranteed, Harry is gay; like… he turns green at the thought of being with a woman. I doubt he could… um… function.”
“That is a problem,” Malfoy muttered. “Potter’s boyfriend was a muggle, wasn’t he?”
She nodded, her fingers rubbing fruitlessly at her temples. “Harry was under the impression that Henry wouldn’t take kindly to the news that Harry was a wizard. He apparently saw a bit of magic and… well, he didn’t react favorably.”
“Even if he did, he’s a muggle,” he said softly. “It wouldn’t work. It has to be two magical people. And before you ask, I’m not fucking him.”
She had to laugh then. She could just imagine what would happen. Even the thought had Malfoy looking a little peaky. He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head, shaggy blond hair falling across his eyes just the way she loved it. He looked more personable like that, softer, friendlier. She shook the thought away and winced at the pain.
“I’m still not convinced it would even work,” she murmured. “I mean really, what magic happens during sex?”
He quirked a brow and pointed to her swollen stomach. “Besides the obvious?”
“Doesn’t happen every time,” she snapped. “And muggles get pregnant too. Besides, you said people. It can be the same sex, can’t it?”
He shrugged. “Sex is sex, Granger. There isn’t a standard arrangement of body parts needed. It’s the climax that’s important, La Petite Morte, little death. When you die of pleasure, your souls flee and touch. I don’t have to tell you how powerful a soul is.”
She shuddered and hugged her stomach. Voldemort’s soul had been powerful enough to be split into 8 separate pieces and bring him back. Even a shard of it embedded in a necklace had corrupted their minds. That was the other reason she was hesitant to try anything. “We could be accidentally bonded, Malfoy. Surely you realize…”
“Thus the other reason Snape wanted us to speak first. It’s always a possibility, though rare. Touching souls is serious business, one I don’t think your plague starters thought about. It’s not something to be taken lightly. I didn’t exactly expect you to just jump at it.”
She nodded and threw her hands out when the hut spun. He was there in an instant, steadying her and sitting her down. “Are you okay?”
“Headache,” she said softly. “Feels like Cornish pixies are ripping my brain apart.”
He winced. “Ow. How long has it hurt?”
“A while,” she admitted, “but all this information is really taking its toll.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, sitting behind her to straddle her and rubbing her temples. “But you’re at your limit for potions today.”
“I know,” she whispered. “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”
He hummed and began massaging her scalp and down her neck. “There is something else we could try.”
“What’s that,” she groaned. His fingers were amazing.
“Well, you said you didn’t believe in sex magic.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe in it,” she mumbled. “Just that it was implausible.”
“Really?” he purred, leaning closer to rub his lips down the side of her neck. “You mean to tell me that you don’t feel a spark during sex? Perhaps a jolt that feels like something has come loose? A… shifting… followed by a snap after the pleasure that makes you take that deep…shuddering… breath.”
She moaned as his fingers worked their way from her neck to her shoulders and then around to her breasts. He placed slow suckling kisses down her neck and collarbone, rubbing his nose up to her jaw and then working his way down again only to switch to the other side and repeat the process. He had a point. There was that moment when her climax rocketed, a sharp jolt of pleasure that made her lose control. And then a snap, a feeling of floating, and a need for a sharp inhale. Maybe it was something.
He chuckled softly in her ear. “Even mediocre sex can cause La Petite Morte. But the best sex, you don’t even need a spell for it to heal. Would you care to help me prove my theory?”
“How?” she breathed.
“Your head,” he murmured as he maneuvered himself around and to the side to lay her down. “How does it feel?”
“It still hurts,” she huffed. “But I appreciate the distraction.”
He grinned into her shoulder and began running his fingers down her arms, soft caressing strokes that soothed her frazzled nerves and made her tremble in anticipation. Their previous rendezvous might have been heated or hurried, but he knew how to play her like a harp. She breathed in sharply when he nipped her collar bone and shuddered when he began inching the makeshift dress down to expose her aching breasts.
His hands turned her into putty, gently kneading her breasts as though he innately understood how sensitive they were. He’d never touched her this way, with authority and passion, yet tender enough to avoid any pain. She liked pain with her pleasure, the bite of a brick wall, an unyielding wooden floor, the sharp sting of a table edge. But she liked this new approach as well. Was this for the benefit of her headache? Was it a result of her pregnancy? Perhaps he was just trying to prove a point.
Whatever the hell it was, she didn’t care. His lips sealed around one taut nipple and pulled, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight to her core. His fingers worked around to gently tug at her other nipple. The twin sensations had her shuddering in delight. Her hand involuntarily worked its way into his hair, trying to find some sort of anchor in a sea of pleasure. His lips came off of her nipple with a pop.
“How is your head?”
She blinked at the sudden question, the shock taking her out of the moment. “It still hurts,” she murmured and then frowned. “But… not as bad?”
He hummed and switched breasts, licking and suckling it with vigor. She gasped and threw her head back, wincing at the sudden movement. But then the pleasure washed over her and it lessened to a dull roar. His other hand had somehow worked until she was entirely nude for his display. She was suddenly shy. Sure, he’d already seen her naked, and recently. But he was no longer forced to play for a crowd. She wasn’t quite the same person as before. There was a… rather large change.
“Oh no you don’t,” he growled, the gravely timber in his voice making her core ache. He pinned her arms above her head. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”
She tried to say something, defend her sudden shy streak, but he sealed his lips over hers and she was swept away again. They fought for dominance but he won out. He always won, mapping her mouth like he’d never get another chance. His hands went to her sides, caressing every inch of skin from collarbones to her rather expansive belly. Then he pulled away and looked deep into her eyes.
“How could I not like this?” he whispered, rubbing across her stomach. “I did this. Well, I helped make this. This is my son… our son. Ours.”
Tears sprung to her eyes as he pulled away and placed gentle kisses across her belly. There was no deception in his eyes. He was truly proud of their accomplishment. Despite the circumstances, they had created a life. And, true to both of them, it was extraordinary. Neither one would have settled for less.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, regretting it the instant the words fell from her lips. She really wanted to get laid. But it was always there, nagging at her.
“We made a deal,” he said with a sigh, still caressing her stomach. “We’ll raise him the best we can, somewhere in between the tribe and England and Snape and everything else. And then when he’s old enough, we’ll tell him everything. Well, maybe not everything.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at gave her a devilish grin that she couldn’t help but laugh at. “Most definitely not. But we’ll tell him.”
“And let him decide,” he said gravely. “It’s his choice. No matter what.”
“Agreed,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said. “Now that that’s settled.”
She bit back a squeal as he went straight for her center, unleashing an attack on her clit that would have made the Queen proud. She certainly was, straining against the mat to try and keep from smothering him with her stomach. His hands crept around to kneed her arse and position her perfectly. Her pleasure climbed higher and higher, soaring until she almost couldn’t stand it. And then he was gone.
Before she could protest, he’d stripped and was teasing her entrance with his dripping cock. She was desperately trying not to verbally eviscerate him for stopping but she was about ready to commit murder. Then he sunk in, slowly, so slowly she had to bite back a scream. He knew what he was doing, too. That self-satisfied smirk on his mug was as aggravating as it was a turn on.
When he finally sunk home, she squeezed her pelvic muscles as tight as they would go. He groaned in pleasure and his arms shook from the strain of holding back. His eyes bored into hers and she returned the favor, giving him a smirk worthy of the name Malfoy. He shook his head and gave her a wink before he pulled out and then gave a little jerk of his hips, bumping against her clit. She hissed and tried to tilt her pelvis to pull him even deeper inside her.
She could scarcely breath as they moved, push and pull, forceful but not harshly. It was enough and yet it wasn’t. She was right there, hovering on the edge. It was maddening. Sweat was pouring off of their bodies from both the activity and the sweltering heat of the hut. Finally, just as she was about to cry uncle, he reached down and started circling her clit.
“Come for me, Hermione,” he breathed, giving one last jerk and twist of his hips.
She felt it, a zing that started from her core and traveled to the top of her head and the end of her toes. Then there was a snap and feeling of euphoria. But instead of the electrical buzz of climax, she was floating, her vision blurring. All at once, she was staring into silvery eyes and the back of a blond head wringing with sweat. Chestnut hair fanned beneath the head in wet ringlets. Then she snapped back and had to inhale sharply, shuddering at the intense pleasure.
It took several minutes for her to come down. Malfoy had already turned them to the side and cleaned them up. She was laying on his shoulder trying to catch his breath. He was gently stroking her arm and side in a soothing manner. And peace. Such peace.
“How is your head?”
She blinked in shock. “It’s… it’s gone?”
“And that, my dear sweet wife, is sex magic.”
She was so shocked that she couldn’t even argue. Sex magic. Wow.
AN: I'm Aliiiiiiiieeeeve. Sorry for the delay guys. Ya know. Life and stuff. But it's spring break and my house if FINALLY clean and my hands have quit aching from the knitting lessons so I decided to finish this. This chapter has literally been giving me fits for months. I couldn't decide where I wanted to go. Anyway, this chapter has not been proof read, so feel free to wrinkle your nose at my attrocious grammer and spelling. As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love them. And for those who were following, my mom is doing fantastic. Full head of curly hair, back to work, and even has a new puppy to keep her and her old dog on their toes. Keep those reviews coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys!
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Three Conditions