Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In Fond Remembrance	By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 22794 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the very witty and very rich JK Rowling. I do not make any make any money - from this story. I do own the computer this was typed on.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
AN: See updated notes at the end.

“Wocky, please bring everything on this list placed in stasis. When you’re done, could you please stay in Master Draco’s suite. I may need your help.”
The little elf, rheumy eyes focused on the young mistress, nodded. Wocky worried over the young Malfoys; having served five generations he’d never seen them reduced in this way.
“Thank you. I’ll need that complete before midnight.”
“Hermione?”
“Hmm?” she acknowledged Lilith, distracted by the last minute checklist in her own head.
“The time has come, child; get ready. Drake has need of you.”
“Well before a wedding, from the looks of wee Lyra.”
“Mind your tongue, Aly! ’Twas not Hermione’s doing that your dynasty forbid my kind. Young Drake’s proven sense has found its way back to the Malfoy clan and the world will be better for it. He’s suffered enough.”
“And what would you know of a man’s suffering, wench?” Aloysius teased his own bonded mate, fondling her ample rear from his seat in her portrait.
“That it leads to a man’s obedience, husband. I am but a woman and must use what a woman has,” Lilith countered coquettishly.
“Will you stay? Here with us, in the library? This has to work and I may need your help.” Hermione implored.
“Aye, child. And we would do so without your asking.”

At exactly midnight, Hermione stood before what had been her desk and arrayed the photos in a circle; the transformation into an altar was complete. In the center of the circle Hermione placed the wizard photo closest to her heart. Late the night of Lyra’s birthday Hermione collapsed — exhausted — into Draco’s lap on the garden chaise. Richard snapped the pic as a gorgeous sunset tinted the scene. Encircled by his arms, Hermione snuggled into Draco's chest, nuzzling the alabaster skin above the collar of his muggle polo shirt. His arms came together where she lay across his legs; he clasped his hands over her hip to keep her petite body as close as possible. And while her eyes had closed, Draco's gazed fondly on the witch who’d let him turn her life all shambolic [chaotic]. He smiled in the pic, a rare event seldom captured in photos or real life. He famously jeered, smirked, sneered, grinned and leered, but a true unpretentious indication of his happiness occurred only in his most unguarded moments, moments Slytherins avoided reflexively.
It was her only photo of them together and her only pic of him smiling.
“Lady of the Land, help us please," Hermione Granger-Weasley-Granger-(and hopefully)-Malfoy begged, "Join us and lift this curse that keeps us barren.” and with a wave of her small hands, Hermione shattered the wards that kept Draco separated from his woman.
Bereft of tears after a fortnight of shedding them unceasingly, Draco sat with a shoulder leaned into the hallway door leading to the private library, scratching at a place bare of varnish, color and some of its wood. Lost in his misery, it took him a moment to recognize that he could now see into the room. Unable to stand due to dehydration and injuries sustained as he attempted to breach the wards, the young man crawled — inch by agonizing inch — towards the witch who meant life and love to him.
Hermione’s sobbing disturbed the image reflected in the pensieve waters; Draco’d refused to acknowledge what he remembered of his torment in all their years together.
From inside the room, both bonded lovers heard the recital of the Beltaine prayer calling forth the goddess of spring and life’s renewal.
“The flowering of the May tree announces she has trod
The greening grass of Celtia to join her Horned God.
The Lady of the Land shall come to pass the springtide’s gate,
To pledge herself as bonded to the god who is her mate.”
Lilith’s lilting brogue trailed off to be replaced by the strong baritone of the maker of the magical legacy and trust, Aloysius Malfoy.
“To promise him her seasons, to give him progeny,
To raise the future strong and true for man and gods to see.
As Druids we commit our lives to follow in their way,
To vow ourselves as man and wife to mate and make this day.”
Desperate for her, Draco’d crawled the rest of the way into the room only to be brought up by a powerful shield charm. Exhausted from his vigil, he climbed the shield to face his love, near spent with the effort, before collapsing to the grassy floor once more. Her scent buoyed him; this close her desire for him permeated the space. Moreover, Draco knew beyond all reason that she was ripe. The imperative to lie with her surged in him with every passing minute.
“I’m sorry, Dragon, but there’s no other way while you’re married to Astoria. We have to complete our bond using the old magic, like your ancestors did. I know you can’t really understand me and you won’t remember this but… I love you, Draco. No matter what happens, we will never be parted magically again.”
Draco’s subconscious registered some of Hermione’s actions. She stood in the library-now-forest-glade with him, its floor covered in lush grass visible in the moonlight streaming through the glass-tiled ceiling. Trees, small thickets, bushes and flowers ringed them giving off a pollen scent that stoked her addiction to him. After the last two weeks, Draco required no additional stoking.
“There is no deeper magic than that between us two.
I pledge my troth and bind my fate, my love I give to you,” Hermione chanted.
Behind Hermione, a short hedge caught fire, burning without damage at her words.
Each word spoken by Draco’s partner amped the magic raging through her body, drawn directly from her mate. Health and vitality lengthened her braided hair and brought a healthy glow to skin exposed by her simple floor-length tunic. Her chocolate brown eyes now twinkled with flecks of grey as Draco’s now sported bolts of bark brown color. The blood racing through her veins stung with the tingling from that insane Malfoy magic and the magic of Beltaine.
From above her, through the open skylight she’d installed when preparing the space, a green mist descended carrying the power and the blessing of the Lady of the Land, she who brought fertility and abundance with her consent — or famine and pestilence with her anger. Tonight the benevolent Lady rewarded Hermione for honoring the old magic and for her legacy as a muggle-born, that most sacred of human mutations to the Druids. Her eyes closed briefly as the mist engulfed her, bringing a sensation of fullness — recalling a night of unquenchable life-creating joining in Crete almost six years ago.
Hermione’s braid crackled with static down her back. Gusts of wind pushed the simple linen dress she wore against her body and revealed her nakedness underneath, her breast seeming larger to him in his state of sexual consumption. Instinctively her dragon fought the shield separating them, howling her name, needing to enter her to stop two weeks of unremitting pain.
"I'm sorry! Whatever I did... Begging you... let me near..." he screamed with the last of his natural strength.
“I know, Dragon, I know. Can you repeat after me? Say the words and we’ll be together, I promise. Can you do that for me?”
Need drove him to tears as he stared at his goal — so close yet still a million miles away.
“Dragon? I need to be with you. Will you say the words?”
Drowned out by the power of Hermione’s spellcasting, Aloysius’ whisper to Lilith went unheard by the two participants in the ritual.
"He's in no state to obey her."
“Shall we give him succor, my love?” Lilith suggested while she nibbled her mate’s earlobe — a particularly persuasive Malfoy erogenous zone.
“Aye. The lad’s shown more pluck than I. How you wrenched the vow from me remains a mystery.”
“It’s a skill of the special-born.”
Waving his fingers in a manner reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy, Aloysius returned some of the blood trapped in Draco’s loins to his head. Sanity moved north for a brief time.
Draco’s voice came hoarse and raspy after the yelling and sobbing outside and inside this room.
“What must… say?…” was all he could muster from his place on the floor.
“Close your eyes, Dragon, and repeat after me.”
With a scosche of the madness gone from his head, the alabaster man who resembled a Greek god raised the ardor on Hermione’s side of the room.
“There is no stronger magic…”
Blinking and eye crossing documented Draco’s effort to concentrate on the words.
“There… There can… be…”
“No, Dragon. Say what I say. We can’t be together if you don’t.”
“Hermione… please…” escaped scratchy and raw from his overused throat.
With his remaining strength Draco hurled himself at the shield that prevented his relief, bringing more tears from his Griffindor princess.
“I’m here, Dragon, I promise to… Try again — ‘There is no stronger magic…’.”
“There… is no… gr… stronger magic…”
A sigh passed her lips. One down; three to go.
“Than love of man for wife…”
“Than love… of… man for… wife?”
“I take thee…”
“I take thee…”
Shorter phrases worked better.
“…as my family”
The hedge behind Draco spontaneously combusted, roaring and crackling so loudly it nearly drowned out the sounds of the swaying trees and the babbling stream. His side of the glen stood alight as if day had suddenly dawned.
A grey-green cloud hurtled in through the skylight, lightening illuminating its hues and shape as ear-splitting thunder boomed from its center. Headed straight for Draco, the Horned God answered the Beltaine call of his mate, the Lady of the Land. The eternal lovers, parents to vale and fen, would once more join to bring life to the world using Hermione and Draco as their surrogates.
Exhibiting all the grace in his athletic frame, Draco lifted himself from his near-prone position and stood before Hermione.
“As my family…”
No hesitation marred his response as Draco channeled the horned one. Moreover, that already substantial cock of his was getting bigger by the minute while Hermione stared in shock. Lilith had indicated the ritual required three days. Hermione hoped she’d hold up that long physically. This Malfoy “extensible” equipment thing was starting to scare the hell out of her.
“...my seed I give for life.”
“My seed I give for life,” and the shield barrier between them shattered, debris dissipating as butterflies into the forest and the night.
“I missed you, Lioness.”
“And I you,” she smiled back in relief (Hermione) and anticipation (the Lady).
“We are bonded. It would be my privilege to be called your husband.”
“But Astoria is —“
“No part of me, witch. You are mine and I will claim you as husband and father to your children… If you’ll have me…”

AN: I am contemplating writing the aftermath and skipping the remaining description of H&D's Beltaine... bonding. It would allow me to get back to "The Best Of..." sooner. I do have it outlined but writing takes time and I do have another major story to finish. Let me know if one more encounter between these two (and they seem to have many in my stories...hmmm...) would be desireable.
Trelweny: Hopefully the pieces have fallen in place. They were peppered through the text quite subtly.
RoseDavis: Glad you got it. I sometimes wish, as this tome works itself out, that I'd kept it for the other story. Ah, well... the muse has its own needs...
RavieSnake: Draco's torment is me channeling two movie scenes - the scene in "For Keeps" where Molly Ringwald locks her husband out to make him take his uni scholarship and the entire behavior of the lovelorn boyfriend in "Endless Love" after Brooke Shield's movie parents enforce a separation between the lovers. If it touched you, I am humbled and honored. I'm pleased that H&D's bonding brought lovely memories back for you. And what else is a honeymoon for, if not the exchange of bodily fluids in abundance?
Trelweny: Well... I figured any anxiety attack Hermione would have had to include mishaps with books (she is, after all, staging this in a library) and since she's clearly a bonded Malfoy (if not a Malfoy wife) she might now exhibit some of the tantrum behavior - toned waaaay down, of course. And you get your wish. I had a number of stern emails from folks who know me in the non-magical world and I'm writing the rest of the encounter as I type this.
FieryPhoenix: I like Lilith too. She's the kind of woman I can see adding herself proudly to the Malfoy clan. She's also cut from the same cloth - minus the pure-blood arrogance - as my version of Narcissa. It's all about family for both of them. I have to say Aloysius is fast becoming m favorite Malfoy to write. His willingness to "correct" stupidity amonst his progeny cracks me up every time. By the way, Druscilla - Humfray's mother - is severely annoyed with him because she is muggle-born and the twit still let his son start that pure-blood nonsense. He's certainly not the brightest Malfoy to grace the Manor. By the way - the Druid ritual, including the chants and spells, is all original work of mine. The movie played in my head and I just wrote down the scenes as they went by.
Pickles: I figured out Hermione would need help and making her read all those books - even if it is Hermione and she has months - would be ridiculous and could be boring. So the portraits help speed the understanding from all that reading.
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In Fond Remembrance