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His Relinquishment	By : lexiatel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 70413 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jk Rowling, I do not make any profit in writing this story what so ever. I am just having some fun.

Chapter List
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He took off the top of his suit and draped it over the back of the chair. His eyes stayed on her the entire time he did it. His fingers went to his tie, loosening it. His staring made Hermione suddenly feel uncomfortable. She felt like prey to a starving wolf, and she didn't like it.

Her hands tightened at the bathrobe that she held close around her body. She watched him neatly set his tie onto the previous piece of clothing he had removed. Her pulse picked up in anticipation as he reached behind his head, grabbing the back of his light grey shirt to pull it over his head. Hermione swallowed hard when his face was once again visible, meeting his eyes, forcing herself not to look lower than that.

Malfoy's eyes bored into hers. He wanted her. It scared her. It wasn't a real feeling, created only from a spell, one that he probably disliked having himself. He only wanted to satisfy an urge. The same urge she had— the reason she refused to look at his naked chest, knowing the need would amplify if she did.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, trying to dismiss the thought of any part of him being naked. That only intensified the 'fantasy' as her mind pictured his pale, slightly hairy chest, and slowly followed the trail of blond strands to his bare waistline.

She heard Malfoy chuckle, stopping her mind from going any further with the thought— thank Merlin!

She kept her eyes closed and made an effort to calm her breathing.

"Well?"

"What?" she dared to ask.

He didn't answer right away. She expected him to, but all was silent, besides the thudding of her quick pulse in her ears.

"Open your eyes."

Hermione's eyes flew open, startled by how close his voice was. And close he was. Malfoy was right in front of her, within touching distance. Out of the corner of her eye, she was relieved to see that the slacks of his suit were still on, hugging his hips. Her breath hitched as she caught sight of his nude stomach. Her gaze took in his torso, stopping at a scar that stretched from beneath the mid of his ribs to around the right side of his waist. She couldn't see where the long scar stopped at, as it was hidden somewhere around the backside of him.

She hadn't remembered seeing it before. Then again, when had she had the time to actually look at him?

"Which friend of yours do you think was capable doing this?" Malfoy's tone was curious one.

"I—" Hermione shook her head. She didn't know of anyone in her circle of friends who would cast such a curse. But of course, there were lots of things she learned in the war. People on both sides died, not just hers.

"Don't concern yourself with such traumatizing thoughts." Malfoy traced a finger along the visible part of the scar. "This was done from someone on my side. I miscalculated my opponent's move— only took me once to learn not to do it again; nearly died from it." He turned around in a complete circle, showing off the top half of his body. It was free of scars besides the one, of which Hermione learned finished at the center of his back.

"Why were you fighting someone from your side?" she found herself asking.

"Training would be the correct term. You and your friends did the same thing, ours was just much more... damaging should we become careless during the match. This obviously wasn't caused by the tickling charm."

Hermione finally looked away, setting her gaze to the floor between them, not wanting to even think about the curse that could do something so terrible.

"I won the match," he added smugly. "But then again, I always do."

And she was sure Malfoy had cast a curse just as bad, if not worse, ending the battle. She shuddered, terrified at the thought of such evil.

He scoffed. "You pretend that your side was so innocent. Maybe some were, Granger, but do not let yourself forget that many of my housemates and friends are dead— dead from some of the same spells that we had cast unto you, our own spells used against us. Stolen."

Her lips pursed. "I never used such a spell to kill a person! I've never killed anyone!" Her voice was hoarse from the thought of such awful doings, vivid images of war flashing into her mind.

"Well, perhaps you're partially to blame for your side losing then."

Her body began to shake, realizing that he could be right. Maybe if she had fought a little dirty, her friends, her family, and a numerous amount of people would still be alive. And maybe she wouldn't be here with him, standing next to him, he, half in the nude, tormenting her with words of what she should had done differently.

Her gut wrenched, pushing her dinner up into the back of her throat. She gagged, covering her mouth to prevent from hurling completely. She sobbed, missing the people she loved, truly comprehending the state she was in: alone, with nowhere to go, stuck with a man who would do nothing but torture her for the remainder of her short life. A man who will dispose of her as soon as she was no longer of use to him.

"Get it a grip, Gryffindor," Malfoy snarled, grasping a hand around her upper arm.

"Don't touch me!" She pulled free from him, tears trailing down her face. "You don't understand what it's like!"

"Don't understand what what's like?!" Malfoy demanded, stepping closer to her after she had backed away. "What do you think that I don't understand?! You think it was all sunshine a roses for me?!"

"Everyone I loved is dead! Because of people like you! I hate you! I hate you, and I hate your bloody friends— every one of them!"

Malfoy laughed deeply. Coldly. He was anything but amused. Hermione backed away from him, but he just followed her around the room while she stumbled in her stepping, trying to keep out of his reach. She had heard him laugh before, but not like this. She had no idea what he was capable of doing in this state of mind, and didn't want to find out.

"Love is a word often overused by foolish people like yourself," he told her as she bumped into a shelving unit. He caught a hold of her, squeezing her upper arms into his grasp, pushing Hermione against it, holding her at his arms length. "And you don't know anything about my personal life." His grip on her tightened, making Hermione wince. "So, you'd be wise to never make assumptions about me again," Malfoy warned her. He harshly shoved her against the shelf, painfully pressing the edges of it into her body, scowling at her with his top lip slightly curled upward.

"Quit that!" she shrieked. "That hurts, Malfoy!"

Malfoy released her abruptly and took a step back. "Let's get this over with, Mudblood." He waved his hand at her, as if she was some house elf. "Remove your bathrobe, and present your body to me."

Hermione stiffened. Her arms were still wrapped around her body to conceal it from his view. "I think you need to take a breather first."

"You will not tell me what to do," he told her darkly, and lunged for her. Her arms flew out, blocking his attempt to grab at her shoulders. She began kicking at Malfoy until he snagged a bit of her hair, tugging at it roughly.

"Is this what you call 'willing', Mudblood? I ordered you to disrobe, and you dare to defy me?" Malfoy hissed through his teeth, angered at her. "Do you want that bloody nit of yours tortured by Blaise?! Do you think he won't do it?!" He shook her head in his fit. "He will, Mudblood, he'll do things that will haunt you for years to come, no matter if you're awake or sleeping! He enjoys inflicting pain and suffering, especially to Mudbloods!"

"No!" she wailed, grasping at his hands to stop his abuse to her head.

"Do not piss me off!" Malfoy growled, and he then released her. He crossed his arms, watching her silently sob. "Stop crying! You're stronger than that, and I'm not going to fuck you while you're sniveling like a pathetic child! If you want a reason to cry, I can certainly create one for you!"

Hermione pressed her fingers to her eyes, summoning up her courage. Malfoy was in control right now. She had to accept that. Until she escaped, saved Samuel, and found a place she could hide them at, she had to make sure Malfoy was content with her presence.

She looked passed him, focusing on the light of a lamp and loosened her hold of her bathrobes. Hermione blinked a few times, forcing herself to calm down as he stepped up to her. Malfoy removed the robe from her, sliding it off her shoulders. It sank to the floor at her feet.

She held her breath as he leaned his head closer to hers and set his lips to the bare skin of her right shoulder. A cold chill ran throughout her entire body, down to even her toes. Hermione gasped in horror as Malfoy cupped a breast into his hand, massaging it.

"Look at me, Granger," he ordered softly, his voice lacked annoyance or anger, his previous foul mood had vanished when she had lowered her hands. "I can promise you that you'll get some enjoyment out of this."

"Just do it, and get it over with," she pleaded quietly without breaking off her stare. The light blurred in her vision.

She jumped, feeling a hand trail the bare skin of her body, his fingers lightly skimmed the surface of her, prickling up the short hairs scattered around her body. Heat blared up in her core as his hand inched lower and lower where it stopped at the dark hairs of her most private of areas. Hermione stopped breathing for a few moments when his fingers slid between the slit of her vaginal lips and gently touched her, delicately toying with her sensitive flesh. She stiffened at the jolt of unexpected pleasure his moving fingers caused.

Hermione closed her mouth tightly, forbidding herself from letting a sound escape. During the time of his fingering her, he had been swirling his tongue at her shoulder, occasionally nipping at her skin every so few seconds with his teeth, slowly making his way to the nape of her neck.

She hated him for doing this to her. For making her excited by his touch— for getting hyped up by his mere sight and presence.

"Please, don't touch me like that. Just... Just do what you must, Malfoy. This is unnecessary." And terrifyingly wonderful.

His mouth made its way to the lobe of her ear, where she could hear his breathing had deepened. He did not pause his movement between her legs, not even for a moment. "It's easier to do it if you're wet with orgasm," he whispered against her ear before encasing her earlobe directly into his mouth, sucking on it. "And also most satisfying."

She bit her lip hard, suppressing the moan that erupted from the back her throat. She didn't like this. Didn't like that she was experiencing pleasure from it. She didn't like that she didn't want him to stop. Hermione hated herself for wanting more, for wanting to allow herself to just give into the feelings she had about him— even if they were fake, and brought on by some charm that se couldn't mentally break.

She wanted to cry, but she willed herself not to. Malfoy would not like it if she did. Samuel's face appeared into her immediate mind, but Zabini's grinning smirk quickly invaded the pleasant thought of the little boy's smile.

Hermione had to keep Malfoy content. She just had to. She inhaled a breath, bringing her hands up to his hips. Her fingers tingled at the feeling of his skin against hers. She heard him moan deeply in her ear, and his fingers moved faster, deepening her breathing. Her lips parted as air exhaled out of it, no longer able to keep breathing through her nose.

"Yes," Malfoy purred seductively. "Surrender, Granger, you've no choice but to. Fighting will only prolong your release. That's it, touch me. It feels nice..."

Hermione leaned back her head, squinting her eyes from the building sensation in her gut. She spread her legs, taking his advice to permit her release, assisting in getting it over and done with.

Or so that's what she told herself. Deep down, she was loving what he was doing, even though it was wrong. Wrong on so many levels. His fingers moved faster and faster, causing her knees to buckle. He pressed harder, bringing her closer and closer. Her fingernails dug into his skin at the sides of his body where she held onto him, fearing she'd collapse to the floor if she didn't.

Hermione shrieked a moment later, startled by the sudden rush of many things happening at once. Malfoy's fingers became very slick against her now throbbing bud, he still worked his fingers while he gripped the back of her neck, guiding her over to the desk, where he spun her around and pushed her down onto it. She grunted at the cold surface of the desk top against her breasts, feeling her nipples harden on impact.

He spread her legs wide apart from behind her with the hand he had used to make her orgasm. The sound of a zipper was heard. She closed her eyes, and sucked in a breath, bracing herself for pain. Nothing painful followed though. A hand was set firmly on her back to keep her from standing up. There was a tickling at her thighs from the material of his slacks brushing up against her. Something hard and soft (if that was even possible) pressed gently to the surface of her sex, sliding up and down the wetness of it. It felt wonderful, but she stopped herself from pressing closer to it.

And then Hermione felt pressure. She knew that he was beginning the task. He started slowly, stopping only when he was completely up inside her. It was mildly uncomfortable at first, but when he moved inside her, increasing with speed and strength with each stroke, it got better. Much better.

Malfoy started grunting after a while, his cock growing in size inside her. "I know you're liking this, Granger," he said, panting. "I can tell by the way you're breathing."

Hermione didn't respond, too ashamed to admit that he was right. Though she had no choice in the matter in the first place.

He wasn't really raping her, she decided. He could have been a brutal arse with her. He could have held her down with his hand clamped around her throat, constricting her ability to breathe. He could have done all that while she was dry and tight, making the experience terribly unpleasant. She had heard worse moments involving a bad man and his victim. She had been through worse, being torn apart as she was greedily used for pleasure; a terrifying that was enough to keep her from sleeping at night.

But he hadn't done any of the things that had been graphically described to her, he hadn't repeated what Voldemort had made him due while he was under the Imperiuse curse. Malfoy had been relatively decent about it. Unlike Voldemort had.

In truth, she didn't want Malfoy to stop. The feeling of him pushing in and pulling out was just that great.

Malfoy leaned over her, groaning as he stopped movement altogether. His cock pulsed inside her, and she felt a slight filling sensation.

He was coming...

"Next time you'll kiss me," Malfoy said breathlessly. "Next time it'll be your turn."

What he meant by the second thing, she wasn't sure.

*/*

While Granger responded nicely to his touch, Draco wanted more. He wanted her to pleasure him, but he also wanted her to be good at it, like when they were under the spell. Sure, some of its effects were still in play, but it wasn't the hardcore, mad dash for passion, like the time before this one. He wanted that sex again. The thought of her riding his leg, sex-crazed to near insanity, made his cock grow hard.

Next time, they'd do it that way. Only, she was going to kiss him instead, and initiate the stronger effects of the spell. He couldn't wait to taste her lips again. Draco had almost kissed her himself while they were in close proximity together, but he had told her that she could choose how she wanted to go about it this time, and she didn't want the kiss. So he respected that, as much as he really didn't want to, and that was only because Astoria's advice had played in his head, telling him to treat Granger like he would treat her. He'd never hurt Astoria like that.

Draco wasn't going to hold himself back the next time though, so it'd be better for Granger to allow the spell to be cast once again on her.

He closed his eyes, thinking about her nails digging into his hips. He touched the stinging, wounded area of his body, groaning in arousal.

Oh, yes, their next session was going to be raw, wet, and wild. His dick ached at just the thought of her trapped beneath him, as she begged him to pound harder into her, pleaded him to suck on her glistening, damp skin, screaming out his name in a pure, primitive manner.

So what if it was a spell that made them this way when it concerned the other? It was well worth it. It was the greatest thing to ever happen to Draco. It felt real— though he understood that it wasn't. It felt good. And he didn't want it to ever go away.

He'd have to remember to gracefully thank his Master for such a wedding gift.

*/*

"Busy day?"

Severus sat down at the tea table, heaving out a heavy sigh. "Extremely," he answered, pouring himself a cup of tea, taking the sugar canister from Draco, who was holding it out for him.

Draco didn't ask the specifics of his godfather's tiring day. Severus didn't tend to share much information on it, besides just a couple stories of the young people he had to put up with. The Dark Lord insisted that Severus often review the Death Eaters In Training, testing them on their abilities. Severus was climbing up there in age, and fighting multiple people in the prime of their youth took a lot of energy out of the man.

Draco awaited to hear the list of Severus's complaints about those in training, but the elder man quietly sipped at his tea, staring off in space.

"That one bloke still giving you a hard time?" Draco asked conversationally, knowing that the unnamed man had a sharp tongue and often aimed it at Severus.

Severus grunted. "When hasn't he? He's getting better about taking my advice though, but that could be because he's learning that I'm much more wiser than him." It was said with mild amusement, but the man did not crack a grin.

"What'd you do to him this time?" Draco asked knowingly.

"I told him to block my curse." Severus shrugged carelessly. "It is not my fault that he refused my advice. He'll be bald for several weeks." He finally smiled at this. "Burnt his hair all off. He looks quite ridiculous now, but I feel he's learned his lesson now," he finished with a simple nod.

"Well, good for you."

"How did your day go? I assume by the lack of urgent news that your wife is still lacking with child?"

Draco stirred his tea uneasily. "Nothing yet..." he announced quietly.

"Well, it's only been a few days, sometimes it takes a while."

"It's just strange, since we're both fertile. She should be pregnant with as often as I do it."

"Do you use potions to drug her? Sometimes that can attack her eggs."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I know that, and I don't have to, now that her little Mudblood friend is being held hostage."

"Just remember, Draco, if anything happens to him, your leverage is gone."

"Not if I can get her pregnant. The nit will be useless to me then. She fall in love with the baby, and then I'll have her hooked to me."

"And what do you plan on doing with her once you have reproduced?"

"I haven't thoroughly decided on that yet... It depends on what the Dark Lord expects me to do."

"You may want to ask Him to be clear, but I do not think He paired you two up just for breeding."

"What additional reason could He had done it for, Severus?" Draco was surprised with the idea that he had to marry Granger for more reasons than one.

"Who knows with Him."

"You know Him, Severus, you know Him more than anyone, if He has multiple reasonings, you, out of all people, would know it."

Severus tilted his head in agreement. "But it does not mean that I wish to spout off presumptions. If you want to know the answer to that question, you'll need to ask Him for it. The baby will come," Severus assured him, changing the topic back to the previous subject. "In the meantime, it doesn't appear that you're too upset with the act of mating." He nonchalantly took a sip of his tea, eying Draco.

Draco grinned. "She's quite the shag, Granger is. Especially when the spell kicks in. Borderline bitch in heat, if you ask me."

One of Severus's eyebrows raised up. "From what you tell me, you're no different."

Draco shrugged. "At first, I was infuriated with the spell, but it does make her willing, the sex is quite enjoyable, and she is fulfilling my needs nicely. I thought having her around would be aggravating and burdening to my life, it's very much the opposite though. It's nice having a woman just in the next room from yours. Even if she is a mouthy Mudblood."

"Your behavior and opinion toward her is improving," Severus noted, impressed.

Draco's lips slowly spread out into a smirk. "I've won. That's why. She knows I'm in absolute control, and there's not a thing that she can do about it."

"I'd advise you not to get too cocky though, Draco, arrogance runs in your blood, sometimes it's not bad to have, but most of the time, it finds a way to foul up something with your life. Do not underestimate her like last time."

"I'm not," Draco said indignantly. "My life depends on keeping her around, and I certainly don't want a repeat of last time after she got away— neither does she."

"I believe it would be in your best interest to attempt in making her happy, or at the very least, content. If she feels safe under your wing, it's less likely of her to plan another escape."

Draco saw Severus's point, but Granger wouldn't run off now that they had her nit to use against her. She wasn't going to leave the nit behind, knowing he could face a slaughter if she were to escape. The nit's existence alone kept her rooted here. And Draco bid her good luck in finding the nit too. There was a reason why he had Blaise take the Mudblood child: if the child was stored here at his Manor, she would eventually find him and run off with him.

Besides, Draco no longer was up for torturing the 'innocent'. Blaise got a devilish delight with cutting off limbs, and letting the blood drain from the stubs, all the while, the unfortunate person screamed in agony. Blaise was an insane man, he got aroused over such actions. Draco had once caught his friend jacking off to a scene of a dismembered woman, who was nearly dead. It was something Draco still wished he could erase from his mind.

Draco had only killed when he had to— when he was ordered to do it, and most of the time when he had, he hadn't enjoyed it.

Of course, with his childhood rivalries, it had been different. He enjoyed killing those good for nothing blood traitors with a curse of his wand.

But it wasn't like he hadn't given them a chance to beg for his mercy, they just didn't think their life was worth an exchange for humiliation.

That wasn't Draco's problem though. They chose their dying fate, just as he chose his living one.

Review Responses:

wintercocis: Sappy? I think not, this isn't no children's fairy tale now. ;)

DaFossil: You have seen nothing. :D

GoblinKingDraco: Ha, there's a game I used to play, and there was a plant called 'herby', we hated harvesting it, but the name is great! It reminded us of the marijuana plant. One friend even called it "Purple Stinky Weed", lol! The game was fun, but the people made it great! Anyway, hope the smut in this chapter was good enough for you. More to come!

Koi: All spells can be broken... Hmmm... :p
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His Relinquishment