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The Usual Suspect	By : Naughty-Fix Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 4899 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is (c) J.K. Rowling and various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books in association with Warner Bros. Entertainment.

Chapter List
- 1-Part One
- 2-Part Two
- 1
- 2
Summary: Hermione Granger is missing and the investigation into her current whereabouts has led to a bevy of suspects except, interestingly enough, the usual one - Draco Malfoy. EWE. Warning: Dark with some elements of humor thanks to the enchantingly nasty Rita Skeeter.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is (c) J.K. Rowling and various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books in association with Warner Bros. Entertainment. I do not make any money/profit for this fanfiction.
Author’s Note: A brief intermission with Draco and Hermione. We will return to Draco’s machinations, Rita’s malevolent pen and Astoria’s mounting suspicion in the next chapter.

THE USUAL SUSPECT

Part Two
Destination, determination and deliberation firmly in mind, Draco apparated to one of the Malfoy estate's many unplottable properties without difficulty. Unlike the manor at Wiltshire, his family's primary residence, this property was decorated in warm tones with furnishing that invited comfort in lieu of cold formality. It was situated upon a secluded stretch of beach along the Mediterranean coast of Morocco, well-hidden from the prying eyes of wizarding Britain.
He had chosen this specific location in hopes of pleasing his guest once she had grown accustomed, however reluctantly, to her new accommodations. As of yet, she had been indifferent to her surroundings except for, unsurprisingly, the extensive second floor library. More often than not, this is the room in which he found her when visiting.
Almost as soon as Draco appeared, a house-elf materialized and groveled in salutation. "Welcomes back, Master Malfoy. How may Mipsy be of service today?"
"Where's our guest?" he unnecessarily posed, already moving in the direction of the library.
Mipsy anxiously wrung at the discarded pillowcase she utilized as clothing before scurrying after her owner. "The mistress has been in the library alls afternoon. She even tooks her lunch there, master."
"Good, good," he brusquely said. "As long as she's eating, the setting is inconsequential. Anywhere's fine if it means she isn't making herself ill with another blasted hunger strike."
The house-elf gave a distressed wail at the horrible reminder, which provoked her into harshly and repetitively banging her head against a nearby wall in reparation for any perceived wrongdoing. It was irrelevant that the mistress's starvation and ensuing illness had been self-inflicted, Mipsy still felt accountable for the situation. It was her duty to see that the mistress was taken care of and she had failed on that occasion.
"Really? Must you do that?" Draco asked with exasperation. "You know it's only going to upset your mistress if she finds out."
Mipsy immediately paused, realizing that her master was correct. The mistress had some strange notions about house-elves and their treatment. "Mipsy is sorry, master. She'll wait 'til the mistress is abed for her punishment."
Draco gave a frustrated sigh, but let the subject rest. When a house-elf set their mind to something, there was absolutely no changing it. Someday a certain know-it-all would figure that out as well.
The instant Draco reached the library door, he sent the house-elf away. Then, with anticipation thrumming just beneath the surface, he quietly entered. Scanning the vicinity, an unbidden smile crossed his features upon catching sight of his target.
Hermione Granger was lounging on a heavily cushioned chaise, utterly engrossed in one of the various antiquated tomes that had been left at her disposal. She was so enrapt in her reading that she did not detect Draco's entrance and slow, appreciative inspection of her scantily clad form. She was dressed in a rather flimsy nightrail, though likely the most modest she could unearth from the wardrobe he had gifted her at the beginning of their unrequited affair.
He spanned the room at a leisurely gait, coming to a stay at her backside. Leaning over, he adjusted his arms to encompass her from behind. She flinched at the unexpected embrace and then cringed when his lips touched the shell of her ear, unhindered thanks to her normally cumbersome hair being styled in a casual updo.
"A whole month without any escape attempts. Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of complacency, sweetling?" Draco teased.
The taunting query garnered an indelicate snort. "That sycophant house-elf is on nonstop surveillance. Believe me, if an opportunity presented itself, I'd take it."
"Your words of devotion give meaning to my otherwise dreary existence," he murmured while raining a trail of kisses down the slope of her neck. He lingered on the discoloration that remained from their last coupling.
"I loathe you," Hermione countered but did not struggle from his attentions. Such a tactic had proven ineffective in the past. It was faster and less taxing to just let him have his way.
She did not relish a bout with the imperius curse either, which was an ongoing threat. Vile bastard.
Draco pushed the gown's strap from her shoulder. "No need for further flirtation, sweetling. I'm already under your spell."
She trembled as he familiarly cupped her breasts, but put on a brave front nonetheless. "Return my wand and I'll show you a spell or two that will literally take your breath away."
"Careful," he chuckled. "All of this foreplay is getting me excited."
Hermione grit her teeth, suppressing a moan when he sharply tweaked a nipple. She would not grant him the satisfaction of hearing her unsolicited pleasure, if at all feasible. During the previous six months, the unrepentant arse had plenty of time to become acquainted with her body and its more erogenous zones. With this knowledge, he took obvious delight in coercing her into enjoying their enforced intimacy. As for her, it made her feel disgustingly dirty... even worse than a filthy little mudblood... whenever he was able to illicit a favorable response.
"Perhaps we should adjourn to the bedroom," Draco abruptly suggested, as if she had a choice in the matter.
He temporarily ceased his ministrations in order to negligently toss the book she had been reading aside. The bluestocking in Hermione balked at the abuse of such a treasured work and she shot him a scathing glare. Her ire, however, was disregarded as Draco impatiently hefted her into his arms and set to vacate the library.
"Ron will come for me," she steadfastly informed. It was a phrase she repeated with each of their encounters.
"Only time will tell," he answered with a discomfiting smile.

TO BE CONTINUED
- 1
- 2
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The Usual Suspect