Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N: Ah, Trelweny...I do believe you may be part seer after all. Those mirrors are not charmed against others...that may be important later...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny Weasley woke-up from the discomfort of her over-full bladder.

“Why do I always need the loo in the middle of the night?” she whispered to herself as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her back with a giant yawn. She pushed her long red hair from her face and blinked into the darkness a few times to adjust her vision before getting up when she noticed that Hermione’s bed was empty.

Frowning at the bed, Ginny stood and raked her eyes around the room. Hermione was definitely not there. Ginny opened the bedroom door quietly and made her way silently down the short hall. She could see a sliver of light shining from under the bathroom door as she approached it and gave a sigh of relief. Hermione simply had to use the loo as she did.

She went to the door and lifted her fist to knock when she heard a small giggle. Ginny paused and lowered her hand. “What could Hermione be giggling at in the loo?” she thought suspiciously. She looked up toward the next floor and wondered if she should check to see if Ron was in his room.

“I miss you so much,” Ginny heard Hermione whisper behind the door.

Ginny froze in place. Who was she talking to? Pressing her ear against the door, she tried to hear more, but Hermione had gone silent. A moment later Ginny heard the rustling of clothing and light footsteps approach the door and jumped back to stand a little ways from it.

The door opened slowly and Hermione stepped through it on tip toes. She looked up and startled when she saw Ginny standing before her with her arms crossed. “Oh! Gin, you scared me…” Hermione breathed clutching a hand to her chest. Her other hand inched its way behind her thigh to hide the mirror it was holding.

“Who were you talking to?” the redhead demanded.

“I wasn’t talking to anyone,” Hermione said with a confused look. Ginny eyed her skeptically and peered around her into the bathroom. It appeared to be empty. She looked back at Hermione and pursed her lips.

“It sounded like you giggled and told someone you missed them,” she said with a scrutinizing look.

Hermione yawned widely and blinked her eyes drowsily. “Sorry, Gin. I’m about half asleep right now. I must’ve been partially dreaming. Sometimes I talk in my sleep. Did I wake you?”

Ginny shook her head but said nothing more. “Okay, well…g’night Gin,” Hermione called sleepily as she retreated back down the hall. Ginny stared after her. She didn’t believe Hermione’s explanation for one second. She’d be keeping her eyes and ears open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A drop of water hung from the tip of the arrow as it pressed steady against the bow. Draco flexed his fingers tighter around the grip and leveled his eyes down the shaft of the arrow.

“You have proven yourself to be a most worthy wizard, young Malfoy.”

He inhaled deeply and then held his breath as he aimed.

“Today, I extend to you a chance at glory…”

He adjusted course for the wind.

“Receive the honor of my Mark….give me your loyalty…”

Elbow pulled back, the very tips of his fingers clung to the taut string.

“Follow me and you will know power…”

The light rain pelted his flexed muscles as he judged his target.

“Do you accept me as your Lord? Will you serve me?”

“Fuck you,” Draco whispered as he loosed the arrow.

Bull’s-eye.

He straightened his posture and squinted into the distance at the arrow jutting out from the very center of the circular target downrange. He combed his hand through his wet hair to smooth it back and then pulled a new arrow from the quiver floating at his side.

Draco set the arrow quickly, aimed, and released again. The projectile struck the target only a hair off center.

“Impressive,” said a baritone voice behind him. Without looking back, Draco pulled another arrow from the quiver and set it.

“Thirty years of practice,” he replied as he narrowed his eyes down the sight. He let the arrow fly and it hit the next target dead center. Oh, how he wished that target really was Voldemort’s face.

The memory of his meeting with the Dark Lord three days prior kept plaguing him. He had hoped that a bit of his much-loved archery would relax him. But that horrible, hissing voice addressing him…those monstrous red eyes peering at him…the aura of pure evil pulsing around him...

It all kept replaying mercilessly in his mind.

“What do you want, Sev?” Draco asked, taking yet another arrow in hand.

“Do you not own a shirt?” Snape drawled in a bored tone, looking over Draco’s bare, wet torso. A protective leather arm cuff on his left forearm was the only item he wore above the waist. He’d decided to forego shirts for the few days he had left to him to do so. Draco threw Snape an amused smirk.

“I own about five hundred shirts,” he answered lightly as he twirled the arrow like a baton, “I simply choose not to wear them.”

Snape gave a slow roll of his eyes.

“Did you come all the way down here just to ask me about my lack of attire?” Draco asked as he lined-up his next shot.

“I had some visitors today,” Snape said seriously.

“Visitors?” Draco said, eyes trained ahead with bow raised.

“Your mother…and your beloved aunt.”

Draco relaxed the string of the bow and lowered it slowly without releasing the shot. He looked over his shoulder at Snape.

“Please tell me you didn’t make it,” he said with a hint of apprehension.

Snape stared back at Draco with a guilty expression.

“Fuck, you did. You made the Unbreakable Vow to finish my mission again. Damn it all, Severus!” Draco yelled as he chucked the arrow into the ground. “Now what are we going to do!?”

“First, you are going to calm yourself,” Snape reprimanded. “We cannot afford for you to lose yourself to your lack of self-control.”

“I have plenty of self-control,” Draco pouted sourly. Snape scoffed at him with a small smile.

“I suppose this arrow threw itself into the ground?” Snape replied as he bent over to pull the arrow from the dirt. He eyed it as he held it up and then looked back at Draco with a raised eyebrow.

“How good is your aim?” Snape inquired as he held the arrow out toward Draco. The young blond took the arrow and grinned wickedly. He turned his face to the sky and whistled loudly.

At once his owl, Nyx, fluttered down from a nearby tree. She landed on Draco’s outstretched, leather clad arm.

“Do you have a galleon on you?” Draco asked Snape. Snape reached into his pocket and flipped a shiny galleon to him. Draco caught it with the same hand that held the arrow, handed it to Nyx, who clasped it in her talon, and then whispered something to her. She propelled from his arm and flapped high into the sky.

Draco quickly brought up his bow with the arrow in the string. He aimed skyward in Nyx’s direction. Snape squinted into the rain just in time to see the owl release the galleon. As the coin hurtled downward, Draco moved his bow minutely to match its trajectory and then released the string with a loud twang.

The arrow pierced the galleon midair with a clink.

Draco pulled his wand from his boot and carefully summoned the arrow back to him. It floated to them and Snape grabbed it out of the air to gawk at the galleon impaled upon it.

“They’re magically reinforced tips,” Draco remarked as Snape blinked at the coin. “They can pierce almost anything.” The two were quiet for a moment before Draco spoke again.

“What are we going to do about the vow? You can’t honor it without…” he trailed off, not willing to finish the thought.

“There was no time restraint given on when you must complete the Dark Lord’s order. And the order, and therefore the vow, will become void after his death. We just have to hope we can defeat him before he becomes too impatient,” Snape answered as he handed the arrow back to Draco.

Draco twisted his mouth as he yanked the galleon from the arrow and tossed it back to Snape who caught the coin and frowned at the hole left in it. “Thirty years of practice you said?”

“Yes. Grandfather Abraxas had this range constructed. I used to shoot with him when I was young. He taught me well and I’ve taught my son. He’s on pace to be better than me…or…at least he will be again…I hope.”

Draco sighed and summoned the rest of the arrows and returned them to the quiver. “I always loved this sport. Helps me relax. I usually prefer to listen to music while I practice though,” he said casually as he loosened the cuff from his arm.

“I’ll bet you do,” Snape joked.

Draco knew Snape was making a crude allusion to Hermione’s music and he simply raised an eyebrow at him. Snape smirked, turned and started a trek back toward the Manor. Draco hefted his quiver and bow over his shoulder and ran to catch up to him.

“How is Hermione?” Snape asked as Draco came to trot beside him.

“She’s not faring very well. She’s exhausted. That blasted Weasley mother has her cleaning and helping like a house elf,” Draco answered with a disapproving shake of his head. “And it’s like a circus over there…so many people crammed in that house. And they never leave her alone. We’ve only been able to catch each other in the mirrors late at night when everyone else has gone off to bed.”

They walked in silence for a bit until Snape cleared his throat. “How have you been faring?”

Draco exhaled deeply. “I just want this whole mess over with. How is Albus coming along with our memories?”

“He’s been reviewing them since the two of you left. Though, he has yet to discuss any new insights with me.”

“Does he know about you making the vow again?”

Snape nodded as he answered, “Yes. I just came from seeing him. He seems to think it gives us an advantage. It won’t seem so unusual for the two of us to be seen together so often now. The others will think I’m merely trying to assist you.”

Draco frowned slightly, but could see the truth in his statement. He did not respond as they approached a large shed. Draco opened the door to it and placed his archery gear within. He warded the door shut again and turned back to Snape who was waiting for him.

“What time is it?” Draco asked as they continued their way towards the house.

“Nearly five o’clock,” Snape answered as he looked Draco over surreptitiously. He was completely soaked. “How long have you been out in this rain?”

“A couple of hours,” Draco answered with a small shrug. “I don’t mind the rain. I find that I actually rather enjoy it.”

Snape made a small hum but said nothing more. They kept up a brisk pace and soon came to the Manor’s rear entrance.

“The elves should have dinner ready soon. Will you be staying?” Draco asked Snape as he opened the door and stepped inside. Snape followed inside but shook his head.

“No, I must be going. The Dark Lord has me playing nursemaid to Wormtail,” he answered with open displeasure. “I merely came to tell you about the visit. Please give Hermione my regards,” he finished and stepped back toward the exit. He stopped half-way out and looked back at Draco. “I will return Thursday morning to escort you to the ceremony. You should probably wear a shirt.” He gave Draco a sad smile and closed the door as he left.

Draco stared at the door and cringed at Snape’s parting statement. One day left. One day left until he would again be a marked man. His stomach rolled with the thought and he dry heaved violently. He braced himself against the wall with his hands.

“Gods, Hermione…you better keep your promise,” he whispered hoarsely to himself.

The intensity of the meeting he’d recently had with the Dark Lord had nearly caused him to breakdown. Only secret thoughts of Hermione and given him the strength to endure the horror of seeing the most evil man in existence alive again. There was no way he was going to be able to face Voldemort again without being with her at least one more time.

Draco needed her calming touch. He needed her beautiful music. He needed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oi! Hermione! Over here!”

Hermione clutched at the broom with her left hand as she attempted to awkwardly heave the quaffle with her right. After twenty-six years, she was still rubbish at flying…and even worse at playing Quidditch.

She tossed the quaffle towards Ron’s outstretched hand and wobbled precariously on the broom with the force of her movement. The ball fell embarrassingly short of his reach and landed on the ground. Ron steered his broom downward to land and planted his feet firmly as he came into contact with the grass. He bent over and retrieved the fallen quaffle.

“The point is to keep the quaffle in the air,” he jeered playfully. He tossed the ball back to Hermione and she caught it but wobbled on her broom again.

“I don’t know why you insist on me playing Quidditch with you, Ronald,” she said gruffly. “You know I’ll never be any good at this.” She had no idea why she had agreed to this. She liked watching Quidditch well enough, but she had never had the desire to play it.

Ron launched back into the air and circled around to pull-up next to her. “Would you rather be inside with Mum and Phlegm?” he asked with a sly smile.

Now she remembered why she had agreed to this. Anything was better than being stuck in that nuthouse for one more second with Molly Weasley’s sour mood or Fleur Delacour’s pretentious French mannerisms.

“Can’t we at least do something that doesn’t scare the hell out of me and make me look like a fool?” Hermione said with a cringe as she once again teetered. She dropped the quaffle and clung both hands tightly to the broom and landed. She really hated flying.

Ron landed again beside her. “Well, we could play chess or exploding snap. I just got a bunch of new wizard cards we could go through,” he suggested hopefully. Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration. She’d been at The Burrow for over three days now and Ron had only suggested doing the things that he enjoyed. He had not once asked her what she wanted to do.

She squinted at him in thought. He had been like this the first time too…but she had forced herself to overlook it. She had been too enamored with him to admit that he held little regard for her true feelings. Of course she wasn’t even sure he was capable of advanced emotion. He hadn’t been very romantic or thoughtful during their marriage anyway. “Emotional range of a teaspoon...”

But he had been pleasant and cheerful towards her...more so even than she remembered him being the first time around. He genuinely seemed to want to be in her company. He was even making jokes like he used to and Hermione’s heart ached every time he laughed. She had missed this side of Ron so much. This was the Ron she had fallen in love with. But then she remembered how he had changed over the years and she felt the old anger flare. Hermione’s mind and heart warred with the conflicting emotions of this surreal situation, and she scowled unconsciously.

Noticing the frown on Hermione’s face as she stared at him, Ron furrowed his brow and frowned back. “What is the matter with you, Hermione? You’ve been acting strange since we picked you up,” he said on the verge of anger.

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to give him an apologetic expression. “Sorry,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’m not feeling well. I think… I think I’m just stressing about all of the uncertainty involving You-Know-Who.”

It wasn’t a lie, but she had left out several big reasons why she was feeling so on-edge. She certainly couldn’t tell Ron that she was upset because she wasn’t used to seeing him sober or smiling, that she was missing her children, that she was aching for the feel of Draco Malfoy against her... and that she was terrified. Draco would be receiving the Dark Mark tomorrow. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought and she grimaced.

Ron’s frown turned into an understanding smile and he went to Hermione. He took the broom from her, let it fall to the ground and then hugged her. Hermione burst into tears. She buried her face into his chest and his familiar scent caused her body to involuntarily lean into him. She had missed his touch for so long…

Ron stiffened at the advance but then relaxed against her and rubbed his hands up her back. He threaded one into her hair and he pulled back to look at her.

“Hermione, I…” he began in a shaky voice.

He had noticed a change in her since he’d last seen her. It hadn’t even been two weeks, but somehow she seemed different. He’d always been attracted to her and normally he would have been too timid to show it, but her new confidence in the way she carried herself and that bloody fantastic hair charm she had learned to tame that bushy mess had him wanting her in a way he never had before. Ron rubbed a strand of her now silky waves between his fingers.

“I…I love your hair like this. It looks so nice,” he said as he leaned his face into the side of her head.

Hermione’s mind had temporarily gone fuzzy with the feel of Ron’s warm, strong body against hers.

“What did Ron just say…Something about hair…Hair…Nice…Draco said…Draco!”

Hermione shoved away from Ron violently. She fell to her knees and retched. She clenched her hands into the grass and then sobbed loudly. Ron stood gaping at her, unsure of what to do.

“Hermione!” a young woman’s voice called out. Ginny had seen the little exchange from her place on her broom on the other side of the yard. She now came running up to stand beside her brother and the hysterical Hermione.

“What did you do to her?” she snapped at Ron as she knelt down in the grass.

“I didn’t do anything! I just gave her a hug and told her that her hair looked nice,” he answered in slight panic. Ginny furrowed her brow deeply at his statement and then turned her attention to Hermione.

“Hermione, what's wrong?" she asked in a soothing voice. Hermione simply closed her eyes and shook her head. She stopped crying, but continued to sniffle loudly as Ginny helped her up from the ground.

"Let's go to our room," Ginny said as she took Hermione gently by the arm and steered her toward the house, leaving a stunned and blinking Ron alone in the yard.

The girls made their way up through the house slowly, and by the time they reached their bedroom Hermione was nearly catatonic. She simply stared ahead with unfocused eyes and a blank expression.

"I promised..." she kept whispering over and over to herself between small hiccups. Ginny guided her to sit on the edge of her bed and then sat down next to her.

"What did you promise, Hermione? Why are you so upset?" she said as she rubbed her friend's back comfortingly.

Hermione put her face in her hands and started to cry again.

Ginny pulled her in for a tight hug and let her cry on her shoulder. "Shh," she whispered, "It will be okay. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can figure it out. Tell me how I can help."

Several minutes passed before Hermione had calmed enough to pull up from Ginny’s embrace to face her. The utter devastation Ginny saw in Hermione’s bloodshot eyes told her more than words could. The youngest Weasley was much more observant and intuitive than many people gave her credit for. She had been watching Hermione closely since that night when she’d caught her leaving the loo. She had an idea of what might be upsetting her.

“Does this have anything to do with the person you keep communicating with in that mirror?” she asked tentatively. Hermione’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. She was suddenly gripped by fear. How obvious had she been!? How could she have been so careless?

“Don’t worry,” Ginny continued when she sensed her anxiety, “I doubt very much that the others noticed anything. I only noticed because I made a point to after the other night.” Hermione gave Ginny a simultaneously guilty and imploring look.

“Is it your boyfriend?” Ginny asked delicately. Hermione wiped her cheeks and nodded. “And you miss him?” Hermione nodded again and looked briefly like she was about to start crying again, but she kept the tears back. “Why all the secrecy?”

“His family won’t approve of our relationship,” Hermione responded softly. “If we are caught together…” she trailed off with a pained look.

“Muggle or Pureblood?” Ginny asked astutely. Hermione’s Romeo would most likely be one of those two options if his parents wouldn’t approve of her.

“Pureblood.”

Ginny contemplated her friend for a moment. “Why don’t you just invite him over here?” she offered.

“You know Mum and Dad wouldn’t mind. And none of us would tell his family.”

“I’m sure that would go over well with Ron,” Hermione replied with a mirthless chuckle.

Ginny frowned. “Ron has had plenty of chances to ask you out. It’s his own fault if he waited too long to show you the attention you deserve. You should not be worrying about what he thinks,” she said firmly.

Hermione twisted her hands in her lap as she considered Ginny’s words. She really didn’t care what Ron thought anymore, but she knew she could never invite Draco to The Burrow. For all their good qualities, not even the Weasleys were wholly accepting. She doubted Draco would be able to set one foot on the property before they hexed him into oblivion. If only she could perform an appearance modification on him like she was able to do on herself…

Hermione stopped breathing. She figured it out!

She had been wracking her brain for days trying to figure out how to keep her promise to Draco to see him before he got the Mark. As the hours had ticked away, she had become increasingly more worried that she would disappoint him. But her revelation had her suddenly grinning like a fool. She’d be able to keep her promise. She looked up at Ginny who was eyeing her curiously.

“I can’t invite him here, Gin. But I just thought of a way I can see him. I’ll need your help though.”

Ginny looked uncertain. “Only if you tell me who he is.”

Hermione gave her an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry, Gin. I literally can’t. We took a vow not to reveal each other. That’s how important it is that our relationship not be discovered. Please, Gin…I promise when things are more certain, when the war is over you will find out. Please do this for me,” she pleaded grasping Ginny’s hands.

“You make it sound like he’s a spy or something,” Ginny said jokingly.

Hermione quietly thanked the gods that Ginny had looked off across the room while she spoke, because she was certain that she had blanched considerably at the unintentional accuracy of the statement. She quickly composed herself and squeezed Ginny’s hands.

“Will you help us?”

Ginny sighed deeply, but nodded. How could she say no to her friend in need? She knew Hermione would do the same for her.

Hermione laughed in relief and threw her arms around Ginny and hugged her enthusiastically.

“All right, all right…” Ginny laughed back. “So, what do I have to do?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten o’clock.

Only two hours left until it was the fourth of July. How was it possible that the day had simultaneously dragged on and flown by?

Draco pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he lay on his bed. He was a wreck. He hadn’t slept properly in days and his nearly constantly twisting gut left him without much appetite, so he hadn’t eaten well either. And now that he had looked at the clock he was fighting off a fierce panic attack that threatened to settle into his chest.

He exhaled dramatically and lifted his arms over his face. He looked upon his left forearm and rubbed it gingerly with his right hand. How was he going to survive this a second time? It would hurt less if he sawed his arm off with a dull knife. He pulled his arm to his bare chest and closed his eyes.

“Where are you?” he whispered into the quiet of his room.

Deep down he knew that it was unlikely that Hermione would be able to see him before it happened, but it hadn’t stopped him from hoping. She had promised after all. He reached his right hand back under his pillow and retrieved his mirror. He held it up and groaned at the black picture. His last shred of hope wilted away.

There was no way she was coming. How could she? She wouldn’t be able to break the Manor wards, and he had no idea where The Burrow was located to even attempt to go to her. And they’d never had enough time to come up with a plan during their mirror conversations.

Draco clenched his mirror tight and was about to let himself succumb to his hopelessness when a loud crack sounded from his bathroom. He shot out of bed with his wand in hand and trained it on the bathroom door. His heart thudded violently against his ribs. Whoever had managed to Apparate past the Manor’s many wards into his loo was surely someone not to be fucked with.

He steeled his courage and stealthily approached the door and reached for the handle. With a last steadying breath he yanked the door open and braced for an attack. But the sight that met him behind the door nearly caused his heart to explode. Standing in the middle of his bathroom was a stunned looking and pajama clad Margaret Monroe.

“Hermione!!?” Draco practically screamed as he launched into the bathroom to embrace her. “How? How?” he asked in awe as he peppered her face and neck with fevered kisses. “How did you get in here?”

Hermione grabbed his face in her hands to still him. She smiled widely at him and marveled at how hot his flawless skin felt in her hands. “I didn’t,” she said slyly, “Margaret did.”

She released his face, pulled her wand from her waist band, and released her modification spell. Her short blonde hair instantly grew into long, shiny brunette curls and her jade green eyes darkened to their normal rich, chocolate brown.

Draco shook his head in disbelief, “How? The wards are nearly impossible to penetrate unless you enter with a family member or you’ve got a direct invite from the head of the house.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing your mother offered Margaret an open invitation to visit anytime,” Hermione responded with an impish grin as she placed her wand on the sink counter.

Draco’s jaw dropped. He had completely forgotten that his mother had told Hermione that she was always welcome. While his father was in prison, his mother was the head of the Manor and her simple statement, whether she really meant it or not, was most certainly a valid invitation for bypassing the wards.

Hermione lifted Draco’s chin with her finger to close his mouth and then moved her hand over his cheek to cup it gently. He placed his wand on the sink next to Hermione’s and then raised his hand to cover hers.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it,” he admitted with downcast eyes.

“I always keep my promises,” she said forcing his face up again to look her in the eyes.

He smirked. “Cut it a little close there, Granger,” he reproached her playfully.

“Yes, well I got here as soon as I could. I only remembered your mother’s statement this afternoon. I feigned illness for the rest of the day so that no one would be suspicious that I went to bed early, but then Ron kept checking on me. I had to wait until Ginny finally convinced him to stay away. She’s keeping watch to make sure no one knows I’m missing.”

“She knows?” Draco asked surprised. He couldn’t believe that one of the Weasleys would be so accepting of him.

Hermione twisted her mouth, “Sort of…She knows I’ve slipped away to see my boyfriend, but she doesn’t know who you are.”

“Oh,” he said softly. He looked at her quizzically for a moment. “Why did you say ‘boyfriend’ like that? You said it like I’m not.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It feels strange to refer to you that way. You seem so much more significant than just a boyfriend. You feel more like…”

Her words were cut short as Draco slammed his lips over hers. He kissed her so deeply it brought tears to her eyes. He pulled back only a fraction to finish her sentence, “Like a partner?”

He planted another kiss and pulled back again. “A lover?”

Kiss. “A soul mate?”

Hermione whimpered after each kiss and question. She pressed her body close to him and answered breathlessly, “Yes, yes, yes,” as Draco travelled his kisses down her neck and collar bone.

When his lips came to the silver locket resting against her creamy skin he stopped and pulled up. He looked deep into Hermione’s beautiful eyes. He was finally going to get to say it out loud.

“I love you.”

Hermione pulled Draco closer into a tight hug and pressed her lips to his ear. “I love you too,” she whispered. Draco tightened his arms around her and buried his face into her shoulder.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he muffled against her. Hermione stroked his hair gently and hummed soothingly. She felt him suddenly gasp and she pulled his head up. Tears were trailing down his cheeks. He shook his head at her.

“I’m so scared,” he rasped. Hermione merely nodded her head sadly and clutched his face. She let her own tears fall as she pressed their foreheads together.

“Will you stay with me all night?” he asked softy. She squeezed his face gently.

“I have to be back by midnight. We’re taking a huge risk as it is. I’m sorry,” she said sorrowfully.

“Don’t be sorry,” Draco said as he brought his hand up to rub his thumb across her cheek. “I’ll take any time I can get with you, love.”

“I just wish I could give you more,” she sighed moving her hands to rest behind his neck.

“Just give me one good song to take with me.”

Hermione smiled at him and leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. Draco pressed into her and moved his hands to grasp the back of her head. He snogged her like his life depended on it. She was his lifeline. She was his Light to survive the Dark. He was going to cherish every last second he had with her.

Hermione ran her hands up and down the smooth skin of Draco’s neck and back. She let her hands roam over his torso, feeling every muscle, memorizing every contour. She breathed deeply through her nose as they kissed to inhale the intoxicating scent that was so uniquely Draco. He smelled like sandalwood and warm sugar and something entirely nameless, yet wonderful. He was perfect. Merlin, she had missed him…

Drunk off of Draco’s smell and kisses, Hermione barely realized it when he lifted up her shirt and tugged it over her head. She let her arms lazily comply with the action to free herself of the garment and then let them fall back around his neck and shoulders. The instant their bare chests pressed together, her song began.

The sounds of a piano and cello swirled about them and Draco smiled widely. “What have you chosen for me, love?”

Hermione brought her mouth back to his. “A Thousand Years by Christina Perri,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his as she did so. He hummed appreciatively and nipped at her lower lip. He pushed her back against the bathroom wall and then recaptured her mouth fully with his.

Their tongues swirled together joyously as Draco slid his hands down Hermione’s naked upper body and into her pajama bottoms to grab hold of her perfect arse. He kneaded her cheeks a moment before moving his hands outward to pull her bottoms from her hips and released them down her soft thighs. She shimmied them the rest of the way down and stepped out of them.

Hermione moaned quietly into Draco’s mouth as he then ran a hand down her right thigh and pulled her leg up around his waist. He repeated with her left leg, leaving her suspended between him and the wall. An involuntary groan escaped Draco as her wet heat pressed against his bare belly. He clasped his hands firmly into the supple flesh of her thighs and pulled away from the wall. Hermione crossed her feet behind his back and combed her fingers through his platinum locks as he carried her from the bathroom into the bedroom; snogging the whole way.

When Draco felt the edge of his bed against his shins he slowly lowered Hermione and pressed her back against the mattress. He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and then stood magnificently before her, chest heaving and face flushed. He absentmindedly brought his hand to his already full erection and stroked it once as his greedy eyes took in her elegant curves. This woman was perfection. Aphrodite herself couldn’t have been more beautiful.

Hermione gazed back at Draco eagerly through lidded eyes and crooked her finger at him to beckon him close. He breathed a throaty growl and crawled up onto the bed. He lowered himself over her and propped himself up only enough so as not to crush her beneath his weight. They both sighed at the comforting heat of their bodies finally joining again after their time apart.

Pushing his face into Hermione’s neck, Draco breathed deep and reveled in her smell. Vanilla and eucalyptus and something distinctively her. He pressed a soft, wet kiss to her neck and delighted in the moan that it elicited from his goddess. He drug his teeth and lips lightly over her sensitive skin as he moved down toward her breasts.

Shivers coursed through Hermione from head to toe at the sensation of Draco’s teeth raking over her chest. She gently scratched her nails along his upper back in response and then smiled when she felt him shiver as well. He lifted his face to look her in the eyes. He gave her a sexy smirk and without breaking eye-contact lowered his chin to her breast and snaked his tongue from his mouth to lick at her stiff, pink nipple. He flicked his tongue over it several times and then sucked it full into his mouth.

Hermione threw back her head and blissfully allowed him to worship her. His touches were slow and deliberate and all the more sensual for it. It was obvious he was savoring every aspect of their session. His mouth and hands paid long, equal visits to both of her tits before moving further south.

Draco licked down Hermione’s abdomen and tickled his fingers down her ribs. She hissed a giggle that was quickly replaced by a loud moan when Draco’s tongue found its way into her sweet center. He buried his face deep into her heat and drank in her divine essence. He wanted to remember her taste, the taste reserved only for him, the taste that no one but him would ever again get to enjoy. His head swelled with the thought of her being his alone and he redoubled his efforts to send her over the edge.

Draco never wanted her to think of Weasel or Potter again, and he’d give her a reason to forget them.

He pressed his strong tongue into her and swirled it while nudging his nose into her clit. Hermione thrashed in pleasure and Draco grabbed her hips in his hands to steady her as he then mercilessly attacked her core with his mouth.

She panted and moaned and oohed and ahhed and Draco relished the sounds as they mixed with her music. Her cries became more frenzied and she suddenly clamped her thighs tightly together against the sides of his head. She tensed and then shuddered as her orgasm washed over her in waves of pleasure. When it ebbed she collapsed flat against the mattress. “Draco…Draco…” she panted quietly.

Draco gave Hermione’s delicious pussy a final slow lick and then crawled back up and over her. He leaned over briefly and opened the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped his face and then returned the cloth to the drawer. He settled back over her and grinned.

“Now, where were we?” he purred. “Ah, yes…I was ravishing you. Shall I continue?”

Hermione grinned at his playfulness. “Only if you want to, milord.”

Draco raised his eyebrows suggestively at her. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” he growled as he pulled one of her legs up to rest her foot over his shoulder. He lined up with her slick entrance and eased his cock into her as slowly as he could. He wanted to feel every last, ecstasy inducing inch of her.

The heat and pressure of his hard member seared against her tight walls during his excruciatingly slow entry and Hermione could feel the delicious build-up of another orgasm beginning. With her leg up as it was, the angle allowed Draco to penetrate deep within her, and as soon as he was sheathed fully inside she climaxed again. Draco laughed into her hair.

“I love when you cum for me…milady,” he sighed as he just as slowly pulled back out of her. He snapped his hips to reenter her quickly and proceeded to pound her steadily into the mattress. The unexpected change in speed and force sent Hermione over again. She sobbed a pleasured gasp against his face and he laughed again.

“You…are…amazing,” he ground out between thrusts.

He kept a firm, even pace and Hermione moaned in time with his movements. Hermione’s body was wracked with shivers and shock waves of pleasure as Draco felt his strong hands over her body as he loved her. He didn’t want one millimeter of her flesh to miss his touch.

Draco looked Hermione in the face when he felt his orgasm approach. Their eyes met and Draco thought hard to her, “I’ll love you for a thousand years.” Hermione audibly gasped when she heard his voice inside her head but wasn’t able to react further as Draco broke his gaze and arched his back with a victorious roar as he came hard inside of her.

He collapsed into her and breathed heavy against her softness. He rolled over to his side and pulled her along to face him. Hermione marveled at him. “I could hear you in my head,” she said through labored breaths.

Draco nodded, “I hoped you would.” He offered no further explanation and Hermione was too spent to ask more about it. Instead she just cuddled up into his arms and delighted in his embrace.

They lay together quietly for a long time until Hermione grabbed Draco’s hand and placed it over her belly to invite him to perform the contraceptive charm. Draco blinked at his hand over her soft stomach and then pulled it away without doing the charm.

“Maybe we should just leave it,” he said hesitantly, “in case…in case I don’t…”

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. “You will not die tomorrow. You will be brave and you will be strong and you WILL come back to me,” she said firmly as she pulled his hand back to her belly. “I will not have our children born in a world where that monster exists. And I can’t exist without you.”

Draco smiled weakly at her and then kissed her gently on the forehead as he performed the charm.

They simply laid together in silence as their time dwindled away. When midnight approached Draco helped Hermione from the bed and walked her silently back to his bathroom. She dressed quickly and stashed her wand back into the elastic of her bottoms. She faced him and they stared sadly at each other.

Draco placed one last kiss upon her cherry lips and then took a step back. He brought his hand up to his right ear and tugged three times: I love you.

Hermione smiled and rubbed her index finger down her nose three times: I love you.

And then in a flash, she was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Narcissa Malfoy leaned against her son’s bedroom door and then slid down it to sit on the floor in the hall.

She had been so worried about him. She knew that the events that were to play out the next morning were weighing heavily on his young mind. He did not deserve it. He did not want it. And she desperately wished she could protect him from it. She’d fought with her sister and begged Severus…but there was nothing for it. Her only son would be a Death Eater.

Tears streamed down Narcissa’s porcelain cheeks as she now listened to the heartbreaking music playing behind his door. She had felt the shift in the wards when the girl had Apparated in. She knew that the soft and steady moans she was hearing were coming from Draco’s girlfriend Margaret.

The proper part of her felt a bit uncomfortable with the fact that her boy was already engaging in intercourse, but she knew there was little she could do to stop him. And she had no place to talk. She and Lucius had been the same way at their age.

Narcissa looked down at the gleaming wedding band on her finger and twisted it lovingly. She missed her husband in more ways than she could count. She had lost him long before he was sent to Azkaban…lost him to greed and a thirst for power. She closed her eyes and wept silently in the vast emptiness of the hall and prayed for the beautiful young souls on the other side of the door.

“Please don’t let their lives end-up like ours…”
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Songs of Regret