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Last Hope	By : ShiSaiyan Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 8935 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Last Hope
- 2-ch 2
- 3-ch 3
- 4-ch 4
- 5-ch 5
- 6-ch6
- 7-ch 7
- 8-ch 8
- 9-ch 9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 16
- 17
Hermione was staring at the ground as she walked, hurriedly, through the halls, toward the library. That was why she didn't see Draco until she ran straight into him. "Oh!" she cried, in surprise, as she bounced off his chest and almost fell. His hands grasped her arms and caught her, though and she was surprised at the strength in them. She slowly raised her eyes to meet the cold silver gaze, with a murmured "thanks," but stopped when she saw something flicker in those mercurial depths. He didn't release his hold on her arms, but his grip softened and he stared at her, studying her.

Draco looked into the warm brown eyes of the girl in front of him and saw them widen. She was afraid of him. He loosened his hold on her, to be gentler, but didn't let go, fascinated by what the warmth of her skin under his palms made him feel like.

Draco had never had much human contact. He was no innocent, that wasn't the issue. Sex was purely physical gratification, the fulfillment of a biological need. Contact was something more. A touch, a smile, a hug, any sign of true affection. That was contact and that was the one thing that Draco had been denied. His parents gave him everything except that. They were too cold and too wrapped up in their own lives and agendas. They'd conceived Draco to secure an heir for their fortune and insure the continuation of the Malfoy name, not because they wanted a child and they made sure he knew it too. Oh, they put on a great show in public, but when they were alone, Draco was simply another possession, to be dressed nicely, shown off and used as a pawn. Hermione wasn't one of them. Everything she felt, she felt honestly and she wasn't running from him. She was looking at him curiously, now a little worriedly and he felt a rush of warmth that she cared enough to worry. Her skin felt soft under his hands.

"Draco?" she said, quietly. He blinked, met her gaze and then let go of her arms. "Sorry." "Are you all right?" Draco started to nod, but paused. Slowly, deliberately, he answered that question honestly for the first time in his life. "No, Hermione. I'm not all right." And he waited. Hermione's brows furrowed and she cocked her head to one side. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She took him to the library, to a secluded corner, behind stacks of musty old books and lines of shelves. They sat down among the dusty tomes and Draco stared at his hands for a long time, in silence. "Draco, it's okay. You can tell me. I swear I won't say anything to anyone and I won't laugh or anything," Hermione coaxed. Draco glanced up at her and saw the truth shining on her face. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak.

He told her everything. About the things Dragon had told him, about he way he'd been brought up to act, believe and feel. He talked about his parents and the Death Eaters and all the things they had pounded into his head since he was old enough to talk. His first word had been "Pureblood," according to his father, and he had been molded from infancy to stand at Voldemorte's side. Hermione's eyes grew wide, but she said nothing, just giving a little encouraging nod when he faltered. As the words left his mouth, Draco felt the weight of all he'd seen and done begin to lift. It was as if by telling her everything, he was releasing it, cleansing himself. When he fell silent at last, Hermione watched him for a while, quietly. When she spoke, finally, her voice was soft. "You know, Draco, you aren't your father. The reasons Dragon turned from Voldemort don't have to be yours as well. You have the power and the knowledge now to make your own choice." He nodded and she reached out and squeezed his hand, quickly, surprising him, before she stood up. "I have to get back to the Common Room. The others will be worried. You know where to find me if you need to talk some more." She turned to leave, then paused and glanced back. "Thank you for trusting me, Draco." Then she was gone.

Dragon was pacing through Hermione's room like his namesake through a lair. With every step, he saw Flint again, saw his hands on pale flesh, bruising, hurting. Anything could have happened when Hermione wandered out of the Common Room alone, anything. In the small part of his mind where rationality still reigned, he knew that she was probably just fine. She was just on her way to the library after all. Not likely she'd meet any Slytherins there. That was the part of his brain that was whispering to him that he was worried because he cared for her, maybe more than he should.

When she walked through the door, he practically pounced on her, his hands gripping her arms in an unknowing repeat of the way his younger self had grabbed her just an hour or so before. "Where have you been? You should've waited for me, I would've gone with you," he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "It's okay, Dragon. I just went to the library and besides, I wasn't alone. Draco was with me." He went still and had to force himself to be calm as a wave of jealousy hit him with the force of a tsunami. Briefly, he wondered if it was healthy to be jealous of one's self, but then decided it didn't matter. "What was Draco doing in the library?" "He needed someone to talk to. He was really upset," she said, perfectly calm and collected, as if it were no big deal. "Why are you so upset, Dragon? I'm a big girl and I'm perfectly capable of going to the libray myy myself." "I just don't want anything to happen to you," he said, haltingly, his grip on her arms loosening. Realization of the truth began to creep in and Hermione almost grinned, cocking her head to one side instead and asking, "Why's that, Dragon?" "Just- because," he faltered, releasing her.

She felt him start to pull his hands away and stepped forward, placing her palms on his chest, feeling the thundering of his heart. Dragon froze, his fingertips still barely brushing her arms, as Hermione's hands slid up his chest and around his neck, her fingertips light and curious and incredibly sensual. His breath caught in his throat as she moved even closer, her body pressing against his from knee to shoulder, stood up on her toes and brushed her mouth across his. He drew a ragged breath, but still didn't move, though his hands were trembling. "Kiss me," she whispered, their lips still barely touching. "I can't," he breathed. "Why?" "Ron-" "Shut up, Dragon and fucking kiss me," she demanded, in the softest, most commanding whisper he'd ever heard.

With a muttered curse, Dragon slid his arms tightly around her and crushed his mouth to hers. She welcomed him, twining her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. She tasted like chocolate and innocence and he eased the kiss, just a little, his tongue warring with hers just a little more gently. He felt her smile a little against his mouth and he laced his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, cradling her head in his hand. She was pressed against him and he could feel every line, every curve of her body being branded into his soul. Releasing her head, he slid both hands down her back and over her hips to the backs of her thighs. He gripped her and lifted and she wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands supporting her weight. The short skirt did nothing to separate them, leaving only the thin satin of her panties and the denim of his jeans between them. Even through those barriers, he felt her heat and his body responded immediately. With a groan, he moved to her bed and sat on the mattress. His mouth left hers at last and she whimpered, softly, at the abandonment, until his lips touched the sensitive flesh under her jaw. Then she let her head fall back with a sigh, giving him further access to the pale skin of her neck and throat.

His lips played across the silky perfection, his tongue darting out to taste, his teeth lightly grazing, sending shivers through her. Her hands left his hair to tug his t-shirt out of his jeans and pull it over his head, discarding it over her shoulder and then sliding her hands hungrily over well defined muscles and silken, battle-scarred skin. Her nails scraped over his nipples and they hardened. Noting the change, she ran her thumbs in light circles over the brown discs and was rewarded with a soft moan against the hollow of her throat. His fingers found the buttons of the short-sleeved, white shirt and quickly undid them, pushing back the cool cotton, revealing creamy skin and a delicate, white lace bra. She lifted her hands from him just long enough to slide the material down her arms and let it drop. His mouth worshiped her and he nuzzled the valley between her breasts, then took one nipple into his mouth through the thin lace.

The sensations that coursed through her made her gasp and she arched into his mouth, her hands lacing into his hair to hold him there. He suckled gently through the material, then carefully pushed it aside to bare the perfect, dusky nipple and draw it back into his mouth. Her fingers tightened in his hair and he felt her legs tremble around him. A soft sound came from her throat and he released her tortured flesh to move to the other breast. His hands came up to her shoulders and slid the straps of her bra down her arms a little, giving full access to his new target. As his lips closed around the already hardened peak, his fingers deftly released the clasp of the bra and it slid down her arms. Pulling it off and dropping it over the side of the bed, Hermione closed her eyes and threaded Dragon's hair through her fingers, feeling the silky softness slide over her skin with the barest whisper. His hands drifted to her waist, to the side clasp of the wraparound skirt. With a flick of his fingers, it was undone and he slowly pulled the material away from her, until the offending skirt was dispatched to the same abyss that the rest of her clothing had gone to. In only the satin panties, Hermione shivered, as Dragon's tongue left a trail of fire down her belly and his teeth nipped at the waistband of her panties. Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him back, until he was lying down. He watched her through hooded silver eyes as she gently scraped her nails down his chest and over the ridges of his stomach muscles. Reaching the button on his jeans, she undid it and slowly unzipped the zipper, tugging at the heavy denim that was barring her access to his flesh. He lifted his hips to help her and she pulled the pants off, dropping them, unceremoniously to the floor, as she crawled back up his body, bracing her knees on either side of him. She tossed her hair to one side and bent over him, running a pink tongue over his nipple, then suckling, as he had done to her. She felt him tense beneath her and she smiled, moving to pay the same attention to the other nipple. It was taking all of his control to keep his hands settled on her waist, allowing her to explore him fully, with no interruptions. She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her through the thin satin and she slid back, pinning his legs and taking him gently into her hands. The breath left him in a hiss and she glanced up at his face. Dragon's eyes were closed and his lips were parted as her hands moved over his arousal. He was satin covered steel, warm and throbbing in her palms and she slowly lowered her head to taste him. The moment her tongue touched the silken tip, he let out a moan and pulled her mouth up to his, kissing her for a long time before finally allowing her to pull back. "What's wrong?" she asked, breathlessly. "Not like that," he whispered and she understood. Dragon's control was stretched thin and he didn't want to finish that way. She may not have ever done this before, but she was Hermione Granger and there was very little she hadn't studied to at least some degree. Human biology was something even Muggle children learned.

Leaning down to kiss him, lightly this time, her teeth gently nipping and tugging at his lower lip, Hermione guided his hands to her panties and he slipped his thumbs under the elastic band, sliding them down, over her hips. She shifted and helped him get the panties all the way off, then lowered herself onto him, completely.

The heat of naked flesh against naked flesh nearly took her breath away. Carefully, she sat up, astride him and positioned herself over him, so that he was pressing at her entrance. She bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself. The books had been helpful, but none of them had given any instructions for this. Seeing her uncertainty, Dragon reached up and drew her back down to him. "We don't have to-" "I want to. I just- don't know how to- if we can-" she faltered. "Shh. It's fine. This way you have all the control. Just take it as slowly as you need to," he soothed, stroking her hair back. She looked into his eyes and saw the honesty there, then nodded, pressing her weight onto him.

Dragon's jaw clenched as she lowered herself onto him, her tight heat closing around him at an agonizing pace. He felt her tense as they reached her barrier, but she didn't stop. He saw a drop of blood appear on her lower lip as he breached the thin membrane and then was sheathed completely. He slid his hands up from her waist and drew her down once more, kissing away the blood her teeth had drawn as her body adjusted to him. She was still for a long time, as he kissed her and stroked her back. When the pain had subsided, the feeling of him inside her, as part of her, was something that she would never be able to describe. The lightening that shot up her spine when she moved her hips made her gasp and Dragon's hands settled at her waist, guiding her motions as she began to rock, riding him, letting the sensations take her over. Her head fell back and her eyes closed and Dragon watched her in fascination as she peaked, her body arching, her nails digging into his chest and a hoarse cry was torn from her throat. Then he saw nothing but a million sunbursts as he came, releasing his seed into her body and dragging her mouth to his, clasping her against his chest. She hung onto him, as if afraid of falling, her nails still imbedded in his chest, their breath coming fast and hard. She shuddered against him as an aftershock of pleasure rolled through her, up her spine and down again and he kissed her temple.

Dragon shifted them, slowly, so that they were lying against the pillows and he drew the comforter up over them, still holding Hermione tightly, still buried in her heat. Warm and safer than she'd ever felt, locked in her lover's strong arms, Hermione closed her eyes and slept. Kissing the top of her head, tightening his hold on her, just a little, Dragon quickly followed her into sleep's abyss.
- 16
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Last Hope