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
- 27
- 28
- 29
A/N: So…who needs drugs when you receive reviews like that!? Madster…wow. You just about made me cry on my lunch break at work when I read what you posted about my story. Thank you! Your kind words and support make the carpal tunnel and eye strain worth it. I’ve said it before and I will probably say it again…I love my readers and reviewers! All of you. You all rock my world.
Sherlocked17 - you gave me a rather interesting idea regarding possible song requests. I’m thinking perhaps I could start another sort of PWP spin-off of this where each chapter details a different ‘session’ or duel between our favorite fated pair and Hermione plays the songs you all request. If anyone is interested…either put it in a review or email me: RavieSnake@gmail.com.
Anyway, I know you are anxious for sexy-time, so no more slugs…but a bit more Ron drama (I’ll be interested to see how you all feel about this!) and some sexy Draco…coming right up.
~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione gritted her teeth as she pushed her right arm slowly through the sleeve of her jumper. Her hand finally passed through and emerged to reveal its mottled purple and green knuckles. She poked at the swollen skin and hissed. It hurt…bad.

She had briefly considered simply healing it herself, but quickly decided against it the moment she’d attempted the pain reducing spell and failed – her left hand not nearly as practiced at wielding her wand. Knowing that a poorly done healing spell could just as easily do more damage than it would fix, Hermione opted instead to take a few ibuprofen she had tucked away in her trunk. But the pills did little to ebb the throbbing that kept her up most of the night.
Not that she could’ve slept anyway.
Every time Hermione closed her eyes she saw Draco – slumping and blue-faced in her arms. She had been minutes, maybe seconds away from losing him. It had been the most terrified she’d ever been. It was worse than Bellatrix coming at her with a knife. It was worse than seeing Harry ‘dead’ in Hagrid’s arms. It was worse than losing her children.
The last thought stopped Hermione in her tracks. She had always prided herself on being a good mother. Her children meant everything to her. She would’ve killed for them, would’ve died for them, but never considered killing herself over the loss of them.
Before Dumbledore had assured her that they’d be reborn, she’d thought that they were lost, and though she’d been filled with a grief too painful to describe, she’d never once thought to just end her life. But when Draco was choking, the impulse to want to die with him if she failed to save him had been incredible. How any fated soul managed to last an entire week after the death of their mate was beyond her. Even now, just thinking about Draco dying was enough to make Hermione want to launch herself from the Astronomy tower.
She suddenly realized why Draco had been so worried about them being fated.
Hermione trembled slightly as she lowered herself to sit on the edge of her bed and thought about the sheer intensity of their attachment. She had to do some research into this fated soul business. It was dangerous to have and not fully understand a bond that urged you to commit suicide and murder. Hermione swallowed hard and looked back down at her broken hand.
She could have killed Ron. She would have killed him. She had wanted to kill him for hurting Draco. What would she be capable of if Ron tried something again?
Inhaling deeply, Hermione stood from her bed and tiptoed past her still sleeping dorm mates out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Wake up.”
Ron snorted and turned his face into his pillow. Hermione frowned at him and poked him hard in the ribs.
“Wake. Up.”
“Wha…who?” Ron croaked as he cracked open a sleepy eye at her. When he registered her face he blinked rapidly and scooted up in the bed. “Her…Hermione? What are you…what time is it?” he asked glancing around at the still darkened room.
Hermione pulled a chair up to the bedside and sat. “It’s not quite five in the morning.”
Ron rubbed his hands into his eyes roughly and sat-up all the way.
“I take it your face is feeling better,” Hermione commented coolly as she watched him wipe the sleep from his face.
“Yeah, yeah I guess it is,” Ron replied, pinching the bridge of his nose without flinching. He lowered his hand and squinted at her. “Why are you here so early?”
Hermione shifted in the chair and held up her injured hand at him. Ron narrowed his eyes at the hand through the darkness.
“Merlin, Mione. What happened to your…” he trailed off and Hermione watched his expression morph from one of concerned puzzlement to one of shocked realization. “You?” He touched his nose again. Hermione pursed her lips and nodded.
Ron stared back down at her bruised hand. “Why?”
Hermione gingerly lowered her hand back into her lap. “Do you care about me at all? Did you ever care about me at all?” she asked bitterly. Ron furrowed his brow.
“Of course I care about you,” he answered somewhat angrily, though looked rather more confused. “You broke my face because you thought I didn’t care about you?”
“No,” Hermione answered steadily, “I broke your face because you nearly killed Malfoy.”
Ron’s angry confusion doubled. “What the hell are you talking about, Hermione?”
Hermione took an enormous breath. “Last night you took Harry’s cloak and followed me and Malfoy on our patrol. As we came down the second floor corridor you attacked him with a slug-vomiting charm. One of the slugs lodged in his throat and I had to perform the Heimlich maneuver to save his life. I struck you in a fit of rage for putting me in such a horrifying situation.”
Ron’s tired mind reeled at her words. He had been planning on following her, but he had no recollection of actually doing so. He had no memory of any of it. He placed a hand to his forehead and decided to focus on the simplest question first.
“What is a high lick maneuver?”
Hermione sighed. “Heimlich maneuver. You stand behind a choking victim and wrap your arms around their waist, then clasp your hands together at their navel and thrust them up and into the body to increase air pressure behind the object to try and force it out of the windpipe.”
Ron stared at her in horror. “You wrapped your arms around Malfoy?” he asked disgustedly.
“Would you rather I had let him choke to death from your spell, Ronald?” she asked icily. Even in the dim light, Hermione could tell Ron had paled at her question. He shook his head.
“I don’t remember doing that spell.”
“No, because I Obliviated you,” she replied. Ron’s eyes widened.
“You…you Obliviated me?” he asked through gritted teeth. Hermione nodded with a remorseless expression.
“What you can’t remember doing, you can’t get in trouble for doing,” she answered plainly. Ron gaped at her for a moment before frowning again.
“And what did Malfoy do to me?” he demanded.
Hermione’s gaze hardened. “He didn’t do anything to you, Ronald. You attacked him without provocation and without warning. He didn’t even have out his wand.”
Ron sniffed. “It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.”
Hermione balled her fists and clenched her teeth at the pain in her hand. “He deserved to die for walking down the hallway with me?” she asked on the verge of losing her composure. Ron scowled.
“He’s Slytherin scum, Hermione,” he spat. “He has treated all of us like rubbish for years…you worst of all. Why are you suddenly defending him all the time?”
Hermione inhaled sharply but didn’t answer. Ron sat up straighter in the bed. “This is because of that loser git boyfriend of yours, isn’t it?” he said, pointing a finger at her locket accusingly. “You’ve gone soft for those fucking snakes because he’s one.”
“Why do you hate them so much?” Hermione asked angrily. Ron looked at her like she had two heads.
“Are you mental? They are evil, Hermione. Plain and simple. There hasn’t been a dark witch or wizard that wasn’t a Slytherin,” he answered obstinately.
“Tell that to Peter Pettigrew,” Hermione scoffed leaning back. When Ron sniffed dismissively at her example her anger flared again. “I’m not exactly dating Tom Fucking Riddle, Ronald! Not all Slytherins are evil, same as not all Gryffindors are good.”
“You’re a fool if you believe that,” Ron glared at her. Hermione blinked at him a moment and scooted forward again in the chair. She opened her locket clumsily with her left hand and pulled from it Draco’s small love note. She unfolded it and held it up for Ron to read.
“Evil men can’t love, Ronald,” she said sternly as Ron grudgingly eyed the note. Hermione lowered it, took another deep breath, and looked him seriously in the eyes. “I’m going to tell you something, Ronald…something I’ve never told anyone.”
Ron hesitated but relaxed his scowl. “I’m listening.”
Hermione looked down at the note in her hand as she spoke. “Gryffindor was not the only house the Sorting Hat considered me for.”
Ron furrowed his brow. “I already knew that. You told us that it considered you for Ravenclaw.”
Hermione shook her head. “It did seriously consider Ravenclaw, but in the end it gave me a choice between two houses. The Hat let me choose between Gryffindor… and Slytherin.”
“That’s not possible, Mione,” Ron insisted nervously. “You’re a Muggle-b…”
“Muggle-born, I know,” Hermione interrupted. “But the Hat seemed to think that my other qualities overruled the blood status.”
“There is no bloody way you could ever have been a Slytherin, Mione,” Ron replied, shaking his head adamantly.
“No?” Hermione asked casually. She leaned back again.
“I lit a professor’s robes on fire, Ronald – first year. I stole from that same professor and then brewed a legally restricted dark potion in secret after obtaining the book to do so by lying to and manipulating another professor. Then I orchestrated a plan to essentially kidnap other students to use that dark potion. I kept a transfigured woman in a jar and blackmailed her. I helped start a secret student organization aimed at undermining the authority of a Ministry official and gave the members of said organization coins that activated using the same fucking Protean charm as the Dark Mark.”
Hermione paused and raised her eyebrows. “Still think I couldn’t be one of them?” she questioned darkly. Ron stared at her utterly shell-shocked and Hermione laughed derisively.
“You’ve never thought of me that way have you? You and Harry have only ever cared that I found ways to help our causes…you’ve never considered exactly how sneaky and manipulative and bad I was being to do so. So…you tell me, right now, why I am any better than one of ‘those fucking snakes’- as you so eloquently referred to them?”
Ron was quiet for a moment as he frowned at the floor. “You chose Gryffindor,” he finally answered softly. “You’re sneaky and manipulative for the good side.”
“And so is my loser git boyfriend,” she replied, refolding Draco’s note. She attempted to put it back into her locket with her one hand as she continued. “If you really care about me Ronald, if you ever had any emotion for me whatsoever…” she dropped the note for a third time as she fumbled with the locket and Ron gave a resigned sigh.
“Come here,” he growled at her, holding out a hand for the note. She leaned forward and handed him the note. As Ron clasped hold of her locket to carefully tuck the note back inside, Hermione went on. “If you love me, you will stop hating the man I am fated to simply because of his house.”
Ron clicked the locket shut and held it tight in his hand. “Fated to…” he said distantly. He looked at the locket, then her broken hand for the longest moment before looking back up to meet her gaze. Hermione could practically hear the gears turning in his head and she swallowed hard when a pained realization finally settled in his glossy blue eyes. “No, Mione…” he whispered desperately. “No…no, not him.”
Hermione closed her eyes and clasped her hand over his on her locket and squeezed. She braced herself for his fury, for the angry words that he was about to spit at her. She braced herself for the look of absolute betrayal and hate that would be in his eyes, for the expression of loathing and disapproval on his face. But she could never have expected his reaction.
Ron pulled his hand away and Hermione opened her eyes to see him swing his legs over the side of the bed. He placed his hands on his knees and hung his head.
“I wanted to protect you,” he mumbled brokenly. He lifted his face a fraction to look at her through his shaggy fringe. “Merlin, Hermione, why? Why didn’t you tell us you were fated? I could’ve…I almost…” Ron’s voice cracked.
“You know what it means to be part of a fated pair?” Hermione asked guardedly.
“Every pureblood grows-up hearing those stories,” he answered, looking back down at the floor. Hermione frowned a little.
“You never told any stories like that to our ch…” Hermione forced a cough to try and cover her near slip, “to me before.”
Ron eyed her curiously for a moment. “I didn’t know I was supposed to. I’m sorry it never occurred to me to lean over and say ‘By the way Mione, did you know some people have soul mates that they’ll die without?’” he snapped sarcastically. There was a brief, tense silence until Ron suddenly growled and shook his hands at her. “The Ferret, Hermione!? Really!!? The fucking Ferret!?”
“Don’t call him that,” Hermione snapped back.
“Fuck, Hermione…that shite doesn’t just happen. You have to want it. You have to be willing!” He stood and raked his hands through his hair roughly. “Why!? Him…him of all the people. Why? WHY?”
“I love him,” she answered simply.
“Merlin and Christ in a canoe, Hermione! He hates you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she stated firmly, pointing to her locket. Ron plopped back down on the bed.
“Please tell me this is a joke. This is all for a laugh, yeah? You’re just havin’ me on, trying to teach me a lesson for following you?” he almost begged.
“Does this look like a joke?” Hermione asked seriously, holding up her broken hand again. Ron looked at the hand with a mixed expression of guilt and disgust. He touched his own hand to his left cheek and took a deep breath.
“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” Ron said quietly. “I don’t remember it, but I’m sure I only wanted to…to make him suffer a little for…for making you suffer all those years.” He paused and looked at her sadly. “He doesn’t deserve you, Hermione.”
Hermione sighed. “He has already suffered more than you could ever imagine Ronald. We both have. But any suffering he caused me in the past he has more than made-up for, I promise you.”
Ron wrinkled his nose. “I do not want to know how.”
“No, you probably don’t,” Hermione smiled despite herself. Ron placed his head in his hands.
“Gods, how can you stand to be with him? He is such a prick, Hermione!” He lowered his hands and gave her a scathing look. “I hope you don’t expect me to all of a sudden be best mates with him, because I think I might actually hate him even more now.”
“If you really feel the need to hate the man that has made me happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life, than you can go right ahead, Ronald. So long as you promise not to attack him again, I suppose it doesn’t really matter. In fact, you probably shouldn’t act any differently towards him. You’re not even supposed to know.”
“No, he’s not.”
Hermione felt her stomach drop and turned her head around to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway of the hospital wing. The headmaster calmly walked up to them and stood at the foot of the bed. He looked over his spectacles at the both of them.
“But I knew it was only a matter of time,” he sighed with a small smile.
“I didn’t tell him,” Hermione blurted out nervously. Dumbledore smiled wider.
“I know, Hermione. You were quite careful with your wording. I daresay it was rather… Slytherin of you?” Dumbledore chuckled. Hermione blushed.
“Were you listening the whole time?” she asked awkwardly.
“Not the whole time,” he answered, taking out his wand. He eyed Hermione’s injured hand. “May I?”
Hermione hesitated, but raised the hand towards him. Dumbledore stepped toward her and gently took her hand in his. He waved his wand over it and raised his eyebrows.
“I think you are very lucky to have escaped with what little injury you did, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said seriously as he examined Hermione’s hand. “A soul mate’s protective instincts can be…dangerous.” He turned Hermione’s hand slowly. “Three broken bones, two dislocated knuckles,” he stated in an impressed tone as he carefully let go of the hand. He walked over to a cabinet and took from it a small yellow vial and a bottle of Skele-gro.
“Drink this first, if you would,” Dumbledore said kindly as he stepped back to Hermione’s side and handed her the yellow vial. She took it and drank it down in one gulp. She smacked her lips at the bitter taste, but had no time to complain as the potion immediately kicked-in and her hand went numb. Dumbledore grabbed her hand again and whispered ‘Episkey’ as he tapped his wand to it. There was an unpleasant crackling sound as Hermione’s bones shifted back into place. The headmaster nodded and let go of the hand, then handed her the bottle of Skele-gro.
“Now two sips of this, I think. It may be overkill, but I fear I’m not quite as adept at medicine as Poppy. However, as I’d rather keep the true nature of last night’s little incident to ourselves, I'm afraid I’ll have to suffice,” Dumbledore said apologetically. Hermione flexed her hand and smiled.
“It feels much better. Thank you, Albus,” she said, looking at the hand and taking the Skele-gro. She coughed a little as it went down.
“It is rather unpleasant,” Dumbledore commented conversationally. He looked to Ron. “Now…I trust that there will be no more rogue slug-vomiting spells ricocheting about my halls?”
Ron nodded guiltily.
“Good. Now then, I’d like for both of you to return to your dorms. Tell no one of what occurred last night or this morning. Hermione, have Ronald take a vow and fill him in.”
Hermione nodded dutifully. Dumbledore smiled.
“Pip pip, then. Off you go. I’ll remove that lovely little silencing spell you placed on Poppy’s quarters.”
Hermione flushed, but nodded again and turned to follow Ron out of the wing. As they stepped into the hall, Ron turned to her.
“What in the hell was that all about?”
Hermione took out her wand. “I told you, Ron. However it may seem, my ‘loser git boyfriend’ is on the good side. Now give me your hand.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco sneered at the tomatoes and eggs on the serving plate in front of him. He might very well be put off of eating anything even remotely slimy for the rest of his life. He rolled his tongue around his mouth and pushed the plate further away. Toast - dry toast - would be his breakfast of choice for the foreseeable future.
Draco grabbed a piece of beautifully plain, non-slimy toast and looked across the hall as Hermione, Ron, Harry , and Ginny walked in and headed toward the Gryffindor table. He felt the urge to hurl his goblet of juice at Ron’s immaculately healed face when the redhead shot him an angry glance, but settled for smashing his toast in his fist. He scowled at his crumb covered hand and brushed it clean before looking back up to catch Hermione’s eye as she sat down.
“Good morning. Your hand?” Draco signaled while giving her a questioning look. Hermione smiled weakly and flexed her right hand where he could see it. She suddenly lowered her hand and looked sideways at Ron who was whispering something in her ear. Draco narrowed his eyes at them and then felt his blood run cold when Ron turned his face to him and narrowed his right back defiantly. Draco immediately darted his eyes back to Hermione.
“Does he know?” he signed, raising an eyebrow demandingly. When she gave him an apologetic nod, Draco growled and stood up.
“Malfoy, mate…you all right?” Nott asked, setting down his fork and looking up from his place across the table.
Draco furrowed his brow at him. “I’m fan-fucking-tastic,” he answered shortly. He gave Nott a meaningful look. “Don’t expect me in the common room.”
“Business?” Nott inquired, inclining his head towards Draco’s left arm. Draco glanced back at the Gryffindor table and scowled.
“Business,” he replied and then swiftly exited the Great Hall, signaling silently as he went.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“I thought you Obliviated him?” Draco asked angrily the moment Hermione finished warding the door to Snape’s empty office.
“I did,” she huffed.
“Then can you please explain to me why that ginger menace was staring daggers at me over breakfast?”
Hermione sighed. “I went to see him early this morning in the hospital wing. I couldn’t rest with the worry of what he might try next, so I mentioned my being fated to try and get him to believe me that Mr. Perfect was trustworthy. I never expected him to figure it all out.”
Draco frowned a little. “Why didn’t you just Obliviate him again?”
“Albus showed up. He healed my hand and then told me to have Ron take a vow and then ‘fill him in,’” Hermione answered as Draco plopped down in the chair in front of Snape’s desk.
“The more people that know, the more dangerous this becomes,” Draco complained, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh. Hermione went to him and stood between his legs.
“I know,” she said softly, looking down at him. “But I actually feel rather relieved that he knows. I can sleep better knowing that he won’t try anything on you again. And we don’t need to worry about him telling, vow or not…If there’s one thing Ronald Weasley is good at, it’s keeping big secrets,” she finished somewhat resentfully, looking off at the wall.
Draco cracked one eye and looked up at her. He lowered his hand and frowned at the sad expression on her face. He leaned forward and placed his hands on her hips.
“He was a fool to leave you,” Draco said frankly. Hermione smiled weakly down at him.
“I know, it’s just…it still hurts. I can’t help but wonder why I wasn’t good enough for him,” she whispered.
Draco squeezed her hips. “You were too good for him. And he knew it. You intimidated him, made him feel inadequate, simply because of how bloody brilliant and beautiful you are without even trying. He knew he didn’t deserve you, so he found that dumpy little Hufflepuff tart to make himself feel better.”
Hermione sniffled a small laugh. “He said you didn’t deserve me either.”
Draco looked thoughtfully at his hands on her hips. “I don’t,” he said quietly. He gazed back up at her face. “But I’m not a fucking idiot. When a gorgeous, intelligent woman decides she wants me, I thank the gods for the privilege of being made to feel inadequate by her every day.”
Hermione stepped closer into him and ran her hands lovingly through his soft hair. “You are far from inadequate,” she replied admiringly. Draco shrugged.
“I haven’t even been able to keep from dying - what is it, four times now? - without you.” He shook his head slightly. “I still don’t know how you managed to pop that thing out of me with your hand as it was.”
“Adrenaline and fear are excellent anesthetics,” Hermione replied matter-of-factly. She moved her hands to cup his face. “And I don’t care if my hand had fallen off…I was getting that thing out of you.”
Draco nuzzled her palm and hummed loudly.
“What?” Hermione chuckled at him.
“Just thinking of a way to thank you,” he answered silkily. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Any ideas?”
Draco grinned. “A few. But, since you refuse to drop that pointless Runes class, I’m afraid we simply haven’t time enough right now for us to explore them.” He stood and ran his hands up her body. Hermione’s breath caught as he lifted her hair to expose her sleek neck. Smirking, Draco pressed his face into the side of it and inhaled deeply. Hermione shuddered lightly as he rubbed his nose up the length of her neck and breathed against her skin.
“But… meet me tonight, after Occlumency, in the prefects’ bathroom, and I’ll think of a way to properly express my gratitude. Have a good day, love,” he whispered, brushing his lips over the shell of her ear. He pulled away from her abruptly and, with one last wink, unlocked the door and left the office…the sound of a cymbal reverberating after him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Hermione asked as she pulled the Invisibility Cloak around her shoulders. Harry shook his head but stopped quickly, placing a hand to his scar.
“Is it hurting?” Hermione inquired anxiously.
“No. I’m just getting these twinges. It happened Monday night too. I think He can sense Professor Sarkany’s intrusions, but doesn’t know what to make of them,” Harry answered, furrowing his brow slightly at the floor. He looked up at Hermione and gave her a tired smile. “I’m fine, really,” he insisted at her concerned expression.
Hermione didn’t look convinced, but grabbed her toiletry bag from where she’d set it down on Harry’s bed and tugged at the cloak. “If you’re sure…?” she replied hesitantly.
Harry waved a hand at her. “Just go. You deserve a relaxing bath after that lesson.”
Hermione rubbed her forehead and sighed. “It was grueling. He was harder on you though,” she empathized. Harry waved at her again.
“All I need is to crawl into this bed and not come out until breakfast. Now go. I’ll get the cloak back from you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Hermione said softly, leaning forward to kiss him gently on the cheek. He nodded at her silently and then watched her disappear as she pulled the cloak over her head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione stood alone in the hall under Harry’s cloak and stared at the door to the prefects’ bathroom. She bit her lip and marveled at how, even after a notebook full of songs, the prospect of a night with Draco still caused her to have butterflies in her stomach. Though the steady meaningful looks and smirks he’d thrown her way in the halls and at lunch and during Occlumency might’ve had something to do with it. She placed a hand to her middle and took a deep calming breath.
“Juniper,” she whispered and slowly pushed at the door when it clicked open at the password. The tranquil sound of a harp welcomed her as she stepped into the room and quickly closed then bolted the door. She turned around and gasped at the scene before her.
Beneath the golden half-lit chandelier, was the deep rectangular bath already filled with a thick layer of iridescent bubbles resting on the water’s surface. A gentle lilac steam rose from the depths of the pool and shimmered in the light of several dozen floating, softly glowing candles. On the floor beside the bath was a small stack of fluffy white towels, Draco’s wand, a bottle of Champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, and two fluted glasses. In the far corner of the room near the stalls was an ancient looking gramophone playing the harp music. And there…directly before her, standing at the edge of the pool bath was Draco – wearing only a Slytherin green silk dressing gown and his infamous smirk.
Hermione pulled off Harry’s cloak and let it fall to the floor along with her bag. She gazed at Draco in a lustful stupor.
“Happy to see me, love?” he chuckled. Hermione licked her lips.
“I...I uh…mmm,” she whimpered quietly - her chest heaving slightly as she looked him up and down hungrily. Draco chuckled again and walked up to her. He cupped her face in his hands and smiled.
“The feeling is mutual,” he said before planting a soft kiss to her lips. He pulled back and Hermione looked at him adoringly.
“You did all this?”
“I hoped you’d like it,” Draco smiled. “Though I can’t take full credit; Sev helped a bit. I’m surprised he can still see properly with the way he rolled his eyes at me when I asked for that,” he said motioning to the Champagne.
Hermione finally regained some composure and smiled. “I still can’t believe you set this up. This is…this is so…Is this why you weren’t at dinner?”
“Yeah. I had to dig around in the Room of Hidden Things for about an hour to get that old junker,” Draco said, inclining his head toward the gramophone. He shrugged, “But, I wanted to be able to give you a little music for once. I’m sorry there isn’t much of a selection to choose from though. It’s either this, a polka, or a narrated dancing tutorial.”
Hermione laughed. “No…this is perfect. Everything is perfect. You are perfect.”
“Careful, Granger…praise like that is bound to go to a man's head.”
"I’m really not sure yours can get any larger," she teased, pushing his hair off his forehead. She suddenly looked a bit more serious. "Speaking of heads, Harry said that his sc..."
Draco covered her mouth with his hand and looked at her sternly.
"There will be no discussing Occlumency or Potter or the Weasels or anything school or work or impending doom related. We are here to relax... and enjoy each other."
Hermione pulled his hand from her mouth. "I thought we were here so you could express your gratitude for my heroics," she said, jutting out her chin with mock snootiness. Draco cocked a brow at her, but grinned again.
“Indeed we are. And I do have so very much to be thankful for…” he said looking her very obviously up and down. He tugged at the tie of her simple, pink cotton dressing gown. “But before we can do anything I’ll need for you to get your sexy arse outta these clothes.”
Hermione simply bit her lip and nodded. Draco gave her a playful smack on the bum. “Good girl.” He turned away from her and Hermione absentmindedly shed her pajamas as she watched him stroll over to the diving board at the deepest end of the pool. He undid the silk tie around his waist and shucked his dressing gown from his shoulders. Hermione stopped breathing.
The golden light of the candles highlighted every contour and chiseled line of Draco’s fit form as he stepped up onto the diving board. Hermione swayed slightly as she took in the sight of her pale Adonis moving to the end of the board, completely unabashed in all his naked glory. The summer’s worth of combat lessons had clearly done him more than a few favors.
Draco flexed his arms and chest in preparation to dive and chuckled smugly to himself when he heard a short jazz riff echo around the room with the harp melody. He spared Hermione a quick wink and then with a small hop, dove with expert form into the bubbly water. He emerged a moment later and slicked his hair back with both hands.
“I do so love the view, Granger,” he said, blinking at a nude Hermione through the water dripping down his face, “however you’ll need to get in if you want my…gratitude.”
Hermione’s insides went aflame, breaking her from her daze, and she hurried to the bath’s edge. She stood between two of the many golden taps around its perimeter and looked hesitantly at the water, trying to decide the best way to get in.
“Just jump,” Draco suggested in an amused tone as he watched her twist her lip at the edge.
“Will you catch me?” Hermione asked playfully. Draco swam closer toward her.
“Always,” he answered holding out his arms. Hermione smiled and after quickly dipping a toe in to test the temperature hopped down into the delightfully hot water. Draco swiftly gathered her into his waiting arms. He pulled her close and captured her lips hungrily. Hermione smiled into the kiss.
“It’s against the rules for male and female prefects to use this bathroom at the same time,” she mumbled against him.
“Good. Maybe they’ll expel us,” Draco mumbled back as he pulled her through the water to the side nearest the towels and Champagne. When they reached the side, he deposited her on the small underwater ledge and then reached over the edge and grabbed the bucket and glasses. Hermione watched him as he took out the bottle and opened it with a fizzy pop.
“You really didn’t need to go through all this trouble,” she mused out loud as he filled their glasses. Draco shrugged one shoulder as he handed her a glass.
“The hardest part was the candles. Do you have any idea how long it takes to light a hundred candles? We aren’t all master fire tamers, you know,” he teased.
“Why a hundred?” Hermione asked, taking the glass and looking up at the floating lights.
“One for every year you’ve promised me,” Draco answered easily, taking his own glass in hand. He tilted it toward her to invite her to make a toast. She looked thoughtfully at their glasses.
“To days in hell?” she started shyly. Draco gave her a small genuine smile and nodded.
“And nights in heaven,” he finished, clinking his glass to hers. They each took a small sip and Draco set his glass back down on the tiled edge. He pushed off the wall and floated through the water a short way in front of Hermione.
“Foot,” he said. Hermione looked at him slightly confused.
“What?”
“Your foot,” he said again, holding his hand out expectantly. Hermione gave him a curious smile, but lifted her right foot and Draco took it in his hand. “I owe you a full body massage, do I not?” he asked at her continued expression of perplexity.
“Yes, I suppose you dooo…ooh,” Hermione groaned in pleasure as Draco began to knead his thumbs into the pads of her foot. She leaned her head back and spread her arms out to her sides and rested them up on the pool edge as he continued. “Mmm, Draco,” she moaned softly as he rubbed up her ankle and calf.
“I will never get tired of hearing you moan my name,” Draco said smugly as he reached under the water for her other foot. Hermione simply smiled contentedly and closed her eyes to listen to the relaxing music as Draco’s hands worked her muscles. She sipped lazily at her Champagne as he slowly and lovingly tended to each of her legs. When he came to her hips he pulled her forward and she let him turn her around in the water. He pushed her forward gently and she set down her glass then folded her arms over the edge and rested her head on them.
“My wand please,” Draco said and Hermione reached over and grabbed his wand then handed it to him over her shoulder. He quickly collected Hermione’s semi-damp chestnut curls together and twisted them up into a large messy bun. He skewered his wand through the mass to keep it in place and then ran his fingers down the back of her neck. Hermione moaned appreciatively.
“How did you think to keep my hair up like this?” she asked quietly as he massaged her neck and shoulders.
“I remember seeing you do it a few times with your wand way back when,” he replied casually.
“Back when we were in school the first time?” she asked surprised.
“Yes.”
Hermione’s mind churned as Draco’s hands started on her back. “I only ever did this with my hair when I studied in the library.”
“I know,” he said. “You would always get so engrossed in whatever it was that you were reading that you’d forget the world existed. I’m not surprised you never noticed us checking you out.”
“Us?” Hermione looked over her shoulder at him. Draco grinned as he rubbed his thumbs into the flesh of her lower back.
“I told you, love…you’re beautiful. I wasn’t joking when I said every bloke at Hogwarts probably wanked to thoughts of you.”
Hermione blushed. “Were you one of those blokes?” she asked lightly.
“Still am,” he answered with a nod. Hermione laughed and turned around. “I wasn’t done,” Draco said with a small pout. Hermione reached back and pulled his wand from her hair. She waved it in the direction of the gramophone and the music stopped.
“Yes you are,” she said huskily, tossing his wand back up on the edge. She kicked off the side and slid her arms around Draco’s bare body. “Show me your gratitude,” she ordered, gazing up into his shining silver eyes.
“Gladly,” he whispered, lowering his face to hers. He wrapped her tight in his arms and the moment their lips met a song came to life in the air.
“Dangerously in Love,” Hermione sighed against his mouth.
“Yes we are,” Draco whispered back. Hermione smiled.
“And it’s the title.”
Draco pulled back and squinted as he listened. “Beyonce?” he asked. Hermione nodded and then pulled his face back down to recapture his mouth. She wrapped her legs around his back as they kissed and Draco lifted her up to press against his body with a desperate moan. He swam them aimlessly around the pool and caressed his hands over her as they passionately entwined their tongues.
When he reached the shallower end where he could fully touch bottom, Draco grabbed Hermione’s thighs and lifted her slightly. He positioned his cock between them and taking his hint, Hermione slowly lowered herself down onto his hard length. They moaned together at the pleasure of their joining and the music got louder.
“Have I ever told you how bloody perfect you are?” Draco hissed as Hermione’s tight walls gripped along him when she rose up and then sank back down.
“Yes, but tell me again,” she breathed, repeating the motion.
“Perfect,” he said, gripping her hips to move her steadily up and down. He thrust into her with each motion and word. “Perfect…perfect…perfect.”
Hermione fisted her hands into Draco’s wet hair and he ducked his head down to her chest. He sucked her right breast into his mouth and Hermione gripped his hair tighter as he rolled his tongue around her pebbled nipple. He lingered on it for a moment and then kissed his way across her chest to latch onto her left breast.
“Draco,” she cried in ecstasy tossing her head back. She gazed at the flickering candles above as the water sloshed around them with the rhythm of their love making. Releasing one hand from Draco’s hair, Hermione twirled her index finger in the air. At once all one hundred tiny flames jumped from their wicks and floated downward.
When one of the tiny fiery orbs floated near Draco’s face he startled and pulled up. He temporarily halted the movement of his hips as he looked wide-eyed at the many tiny lights swirling around them like a flurry. “Wow,” he breathed in awe. Hermione took his face in her hands and his eyes snapped back to hers. “You are extraordinary,” he marveled.
“I wouldn’t expect something of yours to be anything less,” Hermione sassed lightly, alluding to his cheeky comment about his Patronus. Draco growled and resumed his thrusts with renewed vigor. He grabbed a hand into her hair and yanked her head forward, crashing his lips to hers greedily. They both closed their eyes as they snogged and reveled in the sheer pleasure of their souls melding in the aromatic water.
Waves began to break over the edges of the pool as their movements became fiercer and more rapid as they approached climax in tandem. Hermione felt the tickle of bubbles rising over the skin of her back as she shuddered with the pulses of her orgasm and she nipped at Draco’s lips as he moaned with his own.
They swayed together in the still turbulent water with their heads together and eyes shut tight as they came down from their highs and the music quieted. Draco blinked his eyes open first and couldn’t help but gasp.
“What?” Hermione rasped.
“It looks like you can control more than fire, my love,” he answered between ragged breaths.
Hermione looked up quickly and inhaled sharply at the sight of thousands of glittering bubbles and droplets dancing amongst the small flames around them in the air. She turned a shocked face to her lover.
“It’s not me controlling the water, Draco,” she said anxiously, poking a finger into one of the bubbles near his face. “It’s you.”
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Songs of Regret