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Research & Development	By : BooBack Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13784 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any associated Charaters. I make no money from writing this.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
19.
It was Friday night, and Draco sat alone on the sofa in his flat. He looked around and thought that it actually felt quite strange to be here. Aside from being in Scotland for the previous week, for the month or so before that he had spent every night with Hermione at her flat.
He sighed as he looked out at the darkness outside the window past the television. She had messaged him several times now, asking where he was, if he was back from Dumfries yet, if he would be going to her flat tonight. He had ignored her. He was still trying to process everything in his head and he knew that when he saw her, it would only lead to an argument.
When he had woken up on Tuesday morning in a strange bed with his head absolutely banging and a warm body next to his, he had kicked himself for drinking as much as he had. He hadn’t had that much to drink in such a long time that it had obviously gone straight to his head.
He had thanked the fucking Gods when he had pulled off his duvet and found that he was still fully dressed. At least he hadn’t done anything too stupid. But there was still a blond witch in his bed and he wasn’t sure why. When he rolled her over to wake her up, he had realised that it was Kelly, who he remembered had transferred there from Romania. When she had awoken, she had looked wide-eyed around at why she was in his bed, and then had explained what she remembered about the night.
Apparently, when she had sat next to him at the bar and asked how he was, he had gone straight into a rant about how his girlfriend (and apparently yes, he had actually used the word girlfriend) was pregnant and hadn’t told him about it and then he had poured his fucking soul out to her. When the pub had closed, he had asked her to come back to his room so that they could continue their chat as it had felt cathartic to talk to someone about it and, after several hours, they must have eventually fallen asleep.
Bits and pieces of their conversation had come back to him over the next few days but the substance of it was that though he knew that it would be better for Hermione to come to him and tell him about her being pregnant, the stress on him of not knowing whose baby it was would destroy their relationship. He needed to know, and he needed to confront her about it.
He grabbed his hair and gave another frustrated sigh, trying to steel his reserve to go see her. It was now getting quite late and he knew that it was only a matter of time before—
Knock knock knock
Fuck.
He got up and gave himself a shake as he walked towards the door to open it. She was standing in the doorway and looked happy to see him but then concerned when she saw his face. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, moving towards him.
He backed away slightly, not wanting to let an intimate situation get in the way of what he needed to say and now she looked hurt. She had come into the flat and he let the door close behind her. ‘Are you ignoring me?’ she asked.
He suddenly growled in frustration. ‘Honestly, yes,’ he said and her face dropped.
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘What’s going on, Draco? You’ve been acting strange since my birthday party.’
He met her eyes in annoyance. How could she act so innocent in all of this when it was tearing him apart? Finally, he said in a strained voice. ‘I heard you and your mum talking at your party.’ Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘I know, Hermione, I know about—’ he cut himself off, barely able to say the words, but gesturing towards her midsection.
She backed against the door and put her hand over her stomach again, like she had in the bathroom. She met his eyes. ‘And you’re angry.’ It was a statement.
‘I’m not angry,’ he said, but with an edge still to his voice. ‘I’m annoyed and frustrated. Why didn’t you tell me?’ She mumbled something and he walked over to her, putting a hand on either side of her head against the door. ‘Pardon?’ he asked with a sarcastic bite.
‘Because it didn’t matter, Draco,’ she said in a voice that matched the frustration of his own. ‘You were never going to be around long enough for it to matter.’ She sighed and looked into his face. ‘We have an expiration date.’
‘Why?’ he asked angrily.
‘Because you’re a Malfoy,’ she said, just as angrily. ‘And money or not, you’ll be expected to produce a Pureblood heir, and…that’s not something that I can give you.’ She had angry tears in her eyes now.
‘And you think I’m just going to leave you because of that?’ he asked and he thought she looked somewhat hopeful for a moment. ‘My mother already knows about us and she’s happy for me, and I was close to telling my father before I found out about this.’
She shook her head. ‘But this will change everything,’ she said.
‘How?’ he asked. ‘Muggle-born or not, you’re the smartest witch in a century. They should be happy to have you.’
She looked a bit confused now. ‘But that’s not what we’re talking about.’
He sighed, shaking his head, and looking into her face. ‘I am not angry, or upset Hermione, but I just need to know. I need to know so that I can get everything sorted out in my own brain.’
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Is it mine?’ he said, now putting his hand over her stomach. ‘Or is it Weasley’s?’
The look on her face, like it was the silliest question that he had ever asked her, gave him hope that it was his. But then she looked down at his hand for a moment and when she looked back up at him, the unshed tears that had been growing in her eyes were streaming down her cheeks and he suddenly felt his heart constricting in his chest. ‘Draco,’ she said, almost a sob.
‘Please tell me, Hermione!’ he said desperately.
Her brown eyes were wide and looked almost pained. ‘Draco. I’m not…pregnant.’
He moved back a step. ‘What?’ he asked, feeling the wind knocked out of him.
‘I’m not…’ she started. ‘What in the world made you think I was pregnant?’ she asked.
Draco looked at her, feeling blindsided, but also feeling hope bubble up in his chest again. She wasn’t pregnant. There was no baby, his or Weasley’s. They could go back to what they were, but then, ‘Your mum said…your situation.’
Tears were now running down Hermione’s cheeks in full force and she slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor. ‘My situation,’ she said the word with disgust as her eyes met his. ‘Is that I can’t have children.’
He knew that he was staring at her with a dumbstruck expression on his face but he couldn’t stop it. ‘But, monthlies, how?’ he forced out, his head still reeling.
She rested her head back against the door and with tears still in her eyes and a sob in her throat, she said, ‘A few years ago, I was sick. Really sick.’ He didn’t say anything but he kneeled down next to her on the floor. She took a deep breath. ‘I went to St Mungo’s but they couldn’t find anything. I was in a lot of pain, so I went to a Muggle hospital and they did a scan and…’
‘What was it?’ Draco asked, reaching forward to hold her hand, but she brushed it away.
‘Cancer,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper, her hand moving back over her tummy. ‘I started getting treatments and they thought it was going to be okay, but when they did another scan, it had spread.’ She stopped and took another breath. ‘My only option was surgery to—to remove it, to remove everything. And…I haven’t had any monthlies since.’
Draco stared at her for a few long moments, his eyes following the tears that were overflowing from her eyes. He still felt confused and dumbstruck, and he wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I haven’t told anyone,’ she said. ‘The only people that know are my parents, and Dean.’
‘Dean?’ he asked.
‘We were dating at the time,’ she said. Then with a displeased and sarcastic look, she said. ‘Yes, Dean, who said he loved me and talked about marrying me, but as soon as I got sick dropped me faster than a Firebolt.’
Draco shook his head. ‘But you said Dean didn’t want to go travelling with you.’
She looked at him then, her eyes still brimming with tears. ‘Draco, I never went travelling,’ she said as if it were obvious, and he realised now that it was. ‘That’s what I told everyone, but I was staying with my parents during my treatment and recovery.’
They were both silent for a few minutes as Hermione continued crying and Draco stared into space, trying to process what she had told him. Finally, Hermione continued. ‘And like I said, it’s not like it matters anyways. You’ll be expected to produce a Pureblood heir, and that’s not something that I can give you.’
She was repeating what she had said earlier but it now had a completely different meaning to him. She wasn’t saying that she couldn’t give him a Pureblood child, she was saying that she couldn’t give him any children.
‘That’s why we have an expiration date,’ she continued, standing now and brushing herself off. ‘And I think that that date is today.’ She gave him a saddened look and said, ‘Goodbye, Draco.’
Before he could say another word or even reach out to touch her, she was gone with a crack.
0000000000
Hermione was exhausted. She was lying on her side and looking at the clock on her bedside table. 4:02am. Four o’clock on Sunday morning and she had not slept at all since she had ended things with Draco on Friday night.
She hated herself, because even though she knew this was going to happen, she still felt like her heart had been shattered. And even though she had cried until she did not have any tears left to cry, those pieces were still lying all over the metaphorical floor.
Now, she was just staring into space. Not able to cry. Not able to sleep. Not able to feel. She had finally had a bit of happiness in her life but now she knew that he would never, could never feel the same about her. She was useless. Broken. And her situation had never hit her as hard as it did now.
She felt two tiny tears—all that her body could now produce—slide over the bridge of her nose and down onto the pillow below her. She curled up into a ball and tried to fight the overwhelming pain enveloping her heart.
She startled as she heard a noise in the flat and she grabbed her wand and sat up to turn towards the bedroom door. It opened slowly and the first thing that she noticed was that his face looked just as tired and worn as her own. He moved towards her and she tried to say something, but it got caught in her throat as he put a finger up to his lips.
‘I don’t want to talk,’ he said softly as he closed the gap and looked down into her face, his eyes roaming over it. He brought his hand up and brushed his thumb over the tears at the corner of her eye and then brushed that thumb gently over her bottom lip. She shivered at his touch. He was staring at her mouth and he said in the same quiet voice, ‘May I?’
And even though she had no idea what was happening or why he was here, she knew that there was no way that she could tell him no. She nodded her head, ever so slightly, and he brought his lips down to hers, catching them in a strong and fervent kiss that left her breathless and shaking.
While she was still sitting up in the bed, he pulled away from her lips and started dropping light kisses all over her face—her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, the top of her hair and then he tipped her head back to take her lips again before he licked up her jawbone to her ear, where he nipped the earlobe and then his tongue came out to lick the shell. She let out a groan and he pulled back and put his finger over his lips again. When she nodded her head, he kissed her again, wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her up against him fully.
Oh gods, she had missed this, and even if it was only this once she was going to let herself enjoy it. He ran his hands down her sides and slipped his fingers into the space between her pyjama top and bottoms, sliding along the sides of her tummy and then up, pulling the shirt with them as he brought it over her head. Then he kissed her again as his hand slid down along her arm and he brought her hand to his own side, pushing it up under his shirt, letting her know to do the same to him.
She slid her fingers up over his stomach and chest, roaming over his shoulders and then he put his arms up so that she could stand and pull it off of him. When it hit the floor, he grabbed her around the middle with his arm and lowered her back down onto the bed, following her and hovering over her with one leg on either side of her thighs. He smiled and then bent down to kiss her chin and then down to her neck, licking and suckling all of the skin that he could find—softly exploring every inch.
He continued his exploration down her arms, over her hands and across her fingers and fingertips. He was almost reverent. It didn’t seem like a sexual act as he kissed and licked and sucked every part of her like he was memorising each tiny detail. When he had completed cataloging the skin of her arms, he moved down to her breasts, again kissing and nuzzling, and even giving a long and broad stroke of his tongue to the skin just under them.
Her hands made their way into his soft blond hair as he moved further down. Kissing across her ribs and her tummy, dipping his tongue into her belly button, nibbling at the soft skin around it as one of his hands started pulling down her pyjama bottoms and exposing even more of her body to explore. Annoyingly, he avoided the area that she most felt she needed contact and instead moved down to inspect her legs, knees, feet and toes.
Finally, he moved back up her legs, but even as he started kissing and licking around her centre, it was the same unhurried, exploratory pace. He never lingered long enough on one area to bring her any sort of relief and by now, she was a mess. Every touch from his lips and his tongue and his teeth were sending shockwaves through her body and she needed him to do more.
She saw him push off his trousers and she nearly groaned in relief, seeing his cock hard and aching. He trailed his tongue and teeth back up her body until he reached her neck and then her mouth again. He pushed his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes as he settled himself between her open legs and slowly pushed his cock into her and she couldn’t help but let out a load groan at the feeling. He smirked and pressed a finger to her lips, holding it down with his own lips as he pulled out and thrust back in again.
She was almost crying trying to keep silent as he continued his pleasurable assault, but his movements were slow and calculated, waiting until she had recovered from the last before thrusting into her again. He was calm and sure, never moving any faster. He was giving her enough to keep her on edge, but not enough to give her the sweet release that she craved.
She was shaking and sweating. She tried to urge him on faster or harder without words, moving her hips and pushing his bum with her feet, but he didn’t take heed and after a few minutes, he actually stopped altogether and pulled out of her, leaving her groaning involuntarily at the loss and almost crying in frustration. Still softly and calmly, he rolled her over onto her tummy on the bed, and starting with the back of her neck, he continued his gentle exploration all over again with this side of her body.
She felt so shaky, so on edge but he just seemed to be enjoying every minute of keeping her at that precipice. When she felt like she was starting to come down from the edge, he would do something like nip at her bum or press a finger between her legs to bring her back to that brink, but would then stop what he was doing and continue his soft kisses and licking so that it wasn’t enough for her to reach a climax.
It was torture. The most pleasurable torture she had ever been subject to.
When he had finished his evaluation of her posterior, he pushed one of her legs up to spread her open and he slowly pushed his cock back into her while she was still lying face down on the bed. She was crying now, having somehow found the tears, and all she wanted was for him to stop being so gentle and fuck her harder so that she could come. She tried to move back against him, but he wouldn’t let her and she was getting so frustrated.
Finally, she banged her fists onto the pillows next to her and nearly screamed, ‘Please, Draco!’
He pulled out of her again and tears were sliding over her face, realising that whatever this was was now over because of her outburst. But then she felt his hands turn her over again so that she was looking up at him and he had an amused look on his face. He knelt up on the bed, his feet under his bum and he pulled her up against him to take her lips in another kiss, her hips settling over his lap as she straddled him.
He had one arm around her lower back, and one on the back of her neck as he pulled her closer to himself, lowering her down onto his cock and thrusting hard up into her. Her head fell back as she felt the shocks move through her body. He was now pulling her down onto him while thrusting up into her in hard strokes, his arm around her back, pushing her breasts up against his mouth to suck and nip at her nipples as her back arched in the pleasure of it and she was panting and shaking and was so close.
Her breath hitched and she looked into his face, afraid he would stop again. He brought her face to his and kissed her again, saying, ‘Come for me, Hermione,’ against her lips as he thrust up into her again and she felt herself come apart at what seemed like every seam of her body. Every nerve and every bit of her skin that he had touched and licked and nipped felt like it was on fire and she screamed his name to the gods as her body was finally pushed over that edge as she shattered around him.
As her brain was slowly reorganising itself, she noticed that he had now laid her back down, and with a few more desperate thrusts he had reached his own climax, spilling into her body. He was looking into her eyes, and there was something there—it was raw emotion and her breath hitched again looking at it. And she finally knew what he was here for, what this was.
He was saying goodbye, the only way that he knew how.
He laid against her as they both found their breath, and she absentmindedly heard him mutter the cleansing charm, but not the contraceptive one. And though she knew this was goodbye, she also felt that there was a bit of closure and although her heart was still in pieces on the floor, they were in a better semblance of order now—like one day they might be put right again.
And finally, after almost two days with no sleep and the exhaustion of her emotions running high, and with the comfort of the sweet release she had just been given, she felt herself succumb to sleep, her eyes closing reluctantly knowing that he would be gone when she woke up.
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