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Mudblood Fever and Lingerie	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 36612 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters within. I am not, nor will not be making any money from 'Mudblood Fever and Lingerie.'

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
The Beginning of the End

Hermione marched into the Great Hall for dinner amongst her classmates, her eyes scanning the crowds immediately for the silvery hair that was so instantly recognizable. He was already seated at his table, surrounded by his house, and she took her own seat, surrounded by gold and crimson.
“Hermione, what’s with you? You’re not paying attention at all!” Ginny yelped, as Hermione knocked the water pitcher over for the second time that day, her hand shaking slighlty as she helped to sop up the mess.
“Sorry, just a bit… worried. Draco hasn’t spoken to me all day…” She worried aloud, her brows pulling together as she once more gazed across the tables that separated them. He hadn’t even looked at her since she’d entered, and she felt her chest tighten with the discomfort of doubt. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself, reminding herself that he cared for her, that he’d made her a magical bracelet so she’d never have to be truly on her own. They would overcome the difficulty his father presented, and they would overcome anything else that came.
“I’m going to go see if something’s wrong.” She announced, as the first slow trickle of people began leaving the Great Hall. She’d barely eaten anything, her stomach was tying itself in knots, and she felt her fingers trembling again as she approached the den of snakes.
“Draco, can I have a word?” She asked, glancing around at his friends pointedly.
“Just one? That must be difficult for you. Go on then, what’s this word you want to share?” He sneered, turning around to lean his back against the table, arms folded across his chest as he stared haughtily up at her. She felt her breath freeze in her chest at the sight of his face. He wore an expression of ice and malice, an expression she hadn’t seen in so long, she’d nearly forgotten he could make it. She took a breath, and clenched a handful of her robes to hide her shaking.
“You’ve been avoiding me all day, Draco. Have I done someth-”
“That’s more than a word, Granger. If it’s nothing important, can you please let me get on with dinner?”
“It looks like you’ve already finished.” She scoffed, eyeing the empty plate behind him with a raised eyebrow. She turned her gaze back to him, pleading. “Please, can’t we go somewhere to speak?”
“Why? I’ve never wanted to hear you speak before, what makes you think I’d start now? Just because I paid you a bit of attention? Don’t get the wrong idea, Granger.”
“Wrong idea? But I thought-”
“You thought wrong. I can’t believe you actually fell for it! How dull could you be? You really thought that I would want to be with you? You’re a mess, Granger, look at yourself! Have you even brushed your hair since first year?”
“Draco, please…” Hermione heard the pitiful sound of her quiet voice, felt the hot tears pricking her eyes. She stared into his face, searching for any trace of the decent man he’d been transforming into, any sign that he might still care for her. She found only mocking derision.
“Please what? Give you a pity tumble? I’m not sure I could stomach another moment of letting your filthy fingers touch me, you pathetic Mudblood.” He hissed, leaning in so only those closest to him would hear. Hermione felt the tears dripping down her cheeks at those words, the evil smile that twisted his face, the way that his friends seemed to be hooting and yammering behind him with fresh insults for her, none of which she heard. She couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her heartbeat filling her ears, and she could hardly see where she was going as she ran out the door of the Great Hall, and up the stairs. She pushed past a few Hufflepuffs in the Entrance Hall, wiping at her face, and disappeared behind a tapestry that would lead her halfway across the second floor.
She tried to calm the sobs that were fighting to burst from her chest, and she slipped into a lavatory, bracing her hands against a sink, and trying to stem the flow of tears that didn’t want to stop. His words had cut deep, but the look on his face had been the worst part.
After several minutes of trying to gulp down deep breaths to no avail, she still felt breathless. The sound of the door opening had her spinning around, wand in hand, mouth already telling whoever it was to get out.
“It’s me.” The soft voice announced, as a second wand waved around, muffling their voices, and barring the door. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” Hermione choked out, staring at the anxious silver eyes set into a concerned face. Draco ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously trying to smooth it back as he approached her. “I told you to say whatever you had to, I just wasn’t expecting it to actually hurt so much.” She admitted, watching him warily, part of her worried that that cold wretch would reappear, and never leave.
“I know, but I still feel like an absolute ogre for what I said. This is going to be harder than I thought. I very nearly came after you, to see if you were alright.” Draco admitted, leaning his hip against the sink next to hers, as she began running cool water to rinse her face with.
“I thought you had, with how fast you got here. How’d you get away without causing suspicion?” She queried as she bent over the sink, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover so soon.
“Told them I’d lost my appetite, and wanted a bath before bed, as usual. With a few more insults to your presence thrown in.” he answered, looking around the unfamiliar room. “What made you decide we should meet here, anyway?”
“No one comes here.” Hermione answered between splashes of cold water. “There’s a ghost. Good place to hide.”
“And this ghost isn’t going to turn us in?”
“I brewed Polyjuice Potion in here our second year, and never got caught.” She said as an example of the lavatory’s privacy. He nodded, looking duly surprised as she dabbed her face dry.
“Hermione…”
She pulled the towel away from her face to see him standing right in front of her, so close she could easily wrap her arms around him. His fingers brushed the bottom of her still-damp chin, bringing her eyes to his as he stared down at her, his face solemn.
“I really am sorry I said those things. I love you. I love your messy hair, and the feel of your fingers touching me. I imagine I’ll have to say all manner of things I don’t mean before this is over, and I just want to make sure you know what’s real.” His eyes were soft as he spoke, full of feeling, and she sank against him, soaking in the warmth of his chest, splaying her fingers across his back.
“I know what’s real.” Hermione assured him, breathing in the familiar scent of his robes, memorizing it. They had the rest of the school year to be together, even if it was behind closed doors, secreting around at night, pretending to hate each other by day. They still had this.
She pulled him tighter to her, wanting to be as close to him as possible for as long as possible. Their time was limited, and she wanted to spend every possible second of it memorizing what she wouldn’t be able to afterward. She didn’t know if they’d find other people to date and possibly spend their lives with, but she knew for certain that when they left on the Hogwarts Express, her heart would be broken all summer.
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips, squeezing her eyes shut, and banishing such melancholy thoughts of the future. He was here now, she was here, and they had so little time to waste on weeping over their impossible romance. She kissed him with a fierceness she’d hide from her children if they ever asked about her childhood loves. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she gasped in a breath as he pushed her hips into the edge of the sink behind her and kissed her senseless, taking her own approach to avoiding the intimidating tasks that lie ahead of them.
It was so familiar to begin undressing him, she almost didn’t realize her hands were doing it, almost didn’t feel the way her own robes were hoisted above her hips. She did feel the full impact of his heated shaft pressing against her stomach. She fully felt the velvety skin under her fingers, the harsh squeezing hands that twirled her to face the mirror and yanked her knickers down. She knew exactly the feel of the teasing prod of his cock at her entrance. He hesitated, one hand on her hip, the other holding his twitching erection in place as his eyes met hers in the mirror.
“Please?” He implored, searching the reflection of her face for any sign that she didn’t want his touch. She felt her heart swell with love for him as she answered his entreaty by slowly tipping back, sliding right onto him, and enveloping him to the hilt as his hand made way, and came to rest opposite his other.
“It seems like I’m a dirty little secret after all.” She teased, relishing the enraptured look on his face as she moved forward and back slowly, setting a torturous pace for him to suffer.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you prefer sneaking around, Granger. Pretending there’s nothing between us but unresolved tension… Such a disappointment it’ll be when we’re married, and everyone knows exactly what we’re doing.” His words were the same taunting tone he’d used to humiliate her delightfully before, but his words were different, and as they sank in, she froze, staring into his quicksilver eyes, unable to mistake the possessiveness she saw, or deny the thrill she got from their clandestine relationship. But the last of his words sent her mind whirring confusingly as he pleasured her, his actions muddling her thoughts, but the lingering sensation of his voice nearly forcing her to reply.
“Married?” She managed to gasp, taking back up the motion when he froze, realizing what he’d let slip. Their eyes met in the mirror, waiting for each other to wave the word away as a simple mistake, but the longer neither spoke, the further over her he bent, until her pulled er head to the side, and kissed her, unwilling to lie and say he’d misspoken, but unable to make any promises. She kissed him back, her fingers sliding slightly across the wet edges of the porcelain sink, her hips moving against his of their own accord, getting swifter with each motion, desperately seeking the first of many climaxes she knew were to come.
As his head pulled back, and he groaned with pleasure, wrapping his arm around her hips so his fingers could help her along, she thought she saw a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye, from the window where Moaning Myrtle liked to lounge, but as she reached that zenith, she couldn’t be bothered to look again, to see if they were being watched or not. She just didn’t care, as long as he kept bringing her to that sweet release, and let her have the hope of his words.

Draco could hardly believe he’d actually said the words aloud, could scarcely trust that the longing he saw in her eyes was for that thought. He kissed his way along her cheek, down her neck, and was halted by the black cotten of her robes. He didn’t pause his plundering as he impatiently tugged the robes over her head and tossed them aside. He barely faltered as he snapped her bra open, and slid that, too, from her shoulders, baring her stiffening peaks to the chill air of the haunted lavatory. He pinched and rolled one between his forefinger and thumb, kissing and nipping his way across her shoulder, pretending he hadn’t seen the grey figure resting against the grey stone well above their heads when he’d done away with her clothes. He didn’t care if they had an audience, he only cared that Hermione’s head was dipping slightly, hanging between her arms as her legs trembled, the aftershocks of her climax making it difficult for her to stand. Draco wrapped his other hand around her stomach, helping to keep her from collapsing as his lips trailed down her spine and his fingers gently abused the hardened pebble that tipped her swaying breast. He could tell she was close to another climax, and pinched harder, thrusting deeper, encouraging her to roll over that second cliff of pleasure.
He held off as long as he could, drawing her enjoyment out as he slapped sharply at the bare skin of her rump, making her yelp and moan, her head rolling about as the opposing sensations brought her an obscene pleasure, his fingers tugging at her hair to hold her head in place making it that much more wicked as her slitted eyes were forced to watch her own face flush with enjoyment as his hand came down again, redding her other cheek. Her lips parted in a silent groan, and he smacked harder, forcing her to let the sound free, punishing her for keeping it in as he brought her so close to that precipice again. Before he let her come again, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, sweet things, dirty things, enjoying the mindless way she bounced back against him, blissfully unaware that he didn’t even have to move his fingers as she rubbed against them and milked his own orgasm from him.
His breath shuddered in and out, and he took a moment to catch his breath, his face buried in her hair, breathing in the scent of her soap, her sweat, and their combined lovemaking. She turned her face, seeking a kiss, and he planted one on her lips, gently letting their mouths rest together as they breathed. Draco stared into her face, trying to memorize each freckle, each small strand of hair that stuck to her forehead. It was memories of her that would see him through this charade, and he felt certain that he didn’t have nearly enough of them.
“Meet me again, this weekend?” He petitioned, placing a gentle kiss on her nose, and another on her forehead. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be done kissing her.
“Whenever possible, wherever you like.” She agreed easily, unbending from over the sink, and pulling her soiled panties back into place. He watched her get dressed without cleaning up, not missing the meaningful look she gave him that silently said she’d rather clean up, but was purposefully baiting him. They’d just publically broken up, and she’d be walking around, secretly a mess under her clothes because of him. It was just the kind of irony he enjoyed, and the possessive part of him delighted in her being covered in his essence, surrounded by people who thought she was unclaimed. She was still his, secretly, and the mess he knew would be pooling between her thighs was real, tangible proof of that secret. This was real. SHE was real. All he had to do was remember that in the months to come.

The End

“I wish you hadn’t made me destroy the bracelet. I liked you being able to call for me instantaneously.” Draco muttered under his breath, rehashing the same lament he’d uttered countless times.
“And if anyone else had gotten hold of it, you’d have been screwed. Your welcome.” Hermione repeated for the thousandth time, sweeping her hands pointlessly across the front of her robes. They were charmed not to wrinkle, and brand new. She felt barely like herself, all done up like a christmas tree, her ears and throat sparkling with so many jewels she could scarcely breathe for fear of losing them.
“Stop fidgeting, or they’re bound to say you’re nervous, and having second thoughts.” Draco insisted, tugging her hand away from where she nervously pressed the glittering silver and diamonds to her skin, reassuring herself that they were still there. He clasped her hand in his own, and she smiled gratefully up at him, secretly glad for the many months he’d already had to deal with the photographs, the articles, the interviews. After the hubub of coming out as a spy against the Death Eaters, he knew exactly how to play the press, and as she stood next to him on the steps of Malfoy Manor, she felt confident in his decisions to dress her so uncomfortably. Standing together in front of the huge house, no one would be able to say she didn’t look like she belonged.
“Well, Mr. Malfoy, if you and Mrs. Malfoy are ready, I’ve got the camera all set up.” The photographer called from a couple meters away, ready to photograph the new couple in front of their home.
“We’re ready.” Hermione answered, squeezing Draco’s hand, and smiling up at him with every bit of love she no longer had to hide.
“We’ve been ready.” Draco agreed, smiling back down at her, neither prepared as the flash went off, catching them staring tenderly at each other instead of into the camera.

A/N: heheh, sorry for the abrupt ending, but without dedicating another year to writing Draco's adventures as a spy, this was how I always envisioned it ending. Thank you all for your condolences for my kitty. I'm glad you all stayed with me throughout the story, and hope I didn't disappoint too much. :D
I won't be writing Draco's spy adventures, simply because I've already got too many other fics I'm working on. Feel free to check those out, but so far only one uploaded is another Dramione. >>http://members.adult-fanfiction.org/profile.php?no=1296979870&view=story&zone=hp
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Mudblood Fever and Lingerie