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-Cold-	By : madamemalfoy Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 5207 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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by Madame Malfoy�s
Mirror

Mmmm.

She was drifting, floating upwards.� Any moment she would break the surface.� And she thought there might be something
important there.� Something she needed to
do, something she needed to prepare for.�
Or�someone�

Her brow furrowed at the muddy thoughts as she tried to
remember�but it all kept sliding away into one thought and one sensation�warm.

She snuggled closer to the source, tucking her nose into a
hollow perfectly tailored to her features.�
A smooth, scented place that was slightly cool when it touched the tip
of her nose.� But this was a good cold�it
felt good against her skin, heated and moistened from her own breath.� And the scent, it was something almost
familiar, something clean and�

Masculine?

Mmmm.� Yes�definitely
that�

She was rising faster now, almost there, the thick cushion
of sleep unraveling around her.� But
stubbornly she held herself under, fighting the buoyancy.� She tightened her arms around the solid,
satin-warm thing she clung to, her skin humming with pleasure at the friction,
the counter stroke of its smoothness against her own.

But then it jerked, shook beneath her, and just as she
reached to pull it back it started to draw away, and then the next moment she
was violently pulled from sleep, rushing to the surface, as strong fingers
cuffed her wrists and pushed her back and away, pushing her flat on her back as
her eyes snapped open, blinking in confusion at the sudden light, the sting of
the cold as the blankets fell away, and the sharp stare of pale, pale eyes.

�Who are you?� he demanded, in a voice as rough as
gravel.� �What have you done to me?�

Oh god!� Malfoy.� He�d come last night�

�I said,� he continued when she didn�t answer, his silver
eyes unfocused but aggressive, his fingers locked around her wrists as solid as
manacles�

She�d found him
bleeding and cold.� And he fell
unconscious�

�Who are you,� and
now it was almost a growl, �and what did you do to m�� He broke off,
breath caught in a rough gasp as his eyes lit on her face, the pale skin of her
shoulders and neck.� Her�bared breasts�

Now he was�

�What the bloody hell�?�

Awake.

She could feel her face heating with embarrassment as she
started to fight back, to push against his grip.� But it didn�t do much good.� He simply tightened the circle of his fingers
and drew back a bit, his silver eyes scanning the length of her face.� He frowned, still in the grip of sleep; he
hadn�t yet recognized her.� Exhaustion
clouded the pale shine of his eyes, which took their time sweeping over the
intimate tangle of their arms, until they caught and followed the winding
length of a long strand of her hair, coiled around his forearm, before falling
again to her bare breasts.� Here they
lingered, measured, until a lazy smirk tilted the corner of his mouth.�

It was so familiar, that smirk, weighted with memory, that
for a moment she didn�t realize that he had let go of her wrist�for no sooner
had she felt the release of pressure than his smooth, pale hand reached between
them to cup her breast.� Her breath
caught as his long, elegant fingers spread star-like over her breast and
squeezed, finally emerging in a gasp as he caught her nipple between his
fingers and pinched it to a hard point.

At the sound his sharp eyes lifted to her face.� It was as if he were trying to place all her
features together into a coherent whole.�
It didn�t take long, for sure enough that smirk widened until it was
smug and sinister and wholly�indecent.

�Granger�� he whispered.�

There was something wolfish, calculated in the way he spoke
her name.� It was barely audible, but it
vibrated along her skin like the pulse of an electric current.� She shook it off savagely.

�Malfoy,� she returned, cool as
you please, �take your hand off me, or I�ll hex you��

He stilled at her words, sensing the threat in them.� They had, until now, only met in battle.� Something he seemed to have forgotten in the
present situation.� But now, as the truth
returned, she saw the chill wash over his features, and menace light the silver
of his eyes.

�I think I�ll be the one to ask the questions, Mudblood,� he answered, and continued his idle caress, much
to her indignation, palming the soft flesh of her breast as that flat stare bore
into hers.� �If I didn�t know better, I�d
say we fucked, given our lack of clothes.�
But somehow I don�t think it�s possible�I couldn�t stomach the disgust.�

Before she knew it, her hand swung out and connected with
his cheek.� She hit him hard enough to
rock his head sideways, the sound of her slap like a gunshot in the still, cold
air.

His mouth dropped open in shock, pain twisting his elegant
features, and a moment later simple rage shaded his face a slight pink.� He turned his eyes toward her, breathing
hard, and quick as a flash, reached for her wrists and pinned them above her
head, almost crushing them in his fevered grip.�
She cried out in pain�

�You!� You think you can slap me again!� You�dirty...�
he could hardly sound the words through his rage.

She bucked against him, trying to shove him off, her dark
eyes as hard as daggers.� She was having
none of it now, and her courage rose to the occasion.� �I�ll slap you all I want, Ferret!� she taunted,
�you disgusting, vile, ars��

But he cut off her words when he bent down and savagely took
her mouth with his in a brutal, punishing kiss.�
She gasped in surprise, her senses flooded with a thousand, potent
sensations.� Shock and
disgust, but also a terrible, swift arousal.�

Oh god�NO, please�

When his tongue thrust into her mouth, sweeping along hers,
she reeled from its cruel perfection, the silken heat of his mouth.� But when he pulled back, catching her bottom
lip between his teeth, biting down on the soft flesh hard enough to sting
without breaking the skin, she cried out in surprised, reluctant pleasure,
unable to stop herself from following after his mouth with her own, eager to
reseal the connection.

But he tore his mouth away, a crooked smile slanting his
swollen lips.� There was a look of almost
fanatic satisfaction in his eyes, the gleam of bitter triumph.� �I knew
it�� he rasped, �I always knew��

She jerked against him, embarrassment and disgust renewing
her struggles.� �You know nothing!� she
shouted, �let me GO, Malfoy!� Let me go or I�ll�I�ll��

�Or what,
Granger?��

And it was as if his words brought them both to the same
realization.� There was a moment of
complete, thick silence, a shared moment of epiphany as each mind sought to
outrace the other.� They locked eyes, waiting�

She lunged backward, managing to shake off his grip, one of
her arms now free as she blindly groped for her wand lying on the end table
just over the arm of the sofa�but he was quicker, catching at her flailing arm
and bearing down with his greater weight. But before he could grab her wand,
she shot a last, desperate glance over her shoulder, and banished it with
silent command.� He saw a moment too late
what she was about, and growling with rage, leapt for it, only to miss, cursing
as his fingers grasped at air.� Useless, empty air.

�You bitch!�

�Ever the gentleman� she spat, now using his iron grip as
leverage, pulling herself forward to knock her forehead hard against his.� But she missed�and the shock of the maneuver
was enough to loosen his grip, so that she was halfway off of the sofa before
he snatched her back, cursing as they continued to wrestle.� Now the fight got dirty.� Without a wand, without magic, they had only
each other to conquer.� And this freed
them.� He was ruthless and swift, she was
stubborn and hard.� With each grasp of
his hands she dodged aside, slipping away from him as he snaked his arms and
legs about her, trying to pin her down.� The
violence of their movement knocked over the end table, a glass clock falling to
the floor and shattering into a million pieces�

Her fear and alarm grew, for now she was wholly, sharply
aware of his nudity, in a way she hadn�t been before.� She felt the smooth, sleek brush of his body
as she struggled against him.� She could
feel it and it felt good�

Desperately she struggled for freedom, unwilling, terrified
to acknowledge the sharp, burning ache that somehow blossomed between her
thighs with spectacular rapidity as his slender body bent and bowed over hers,
his harsh breath rasping in her ear, his fingers tangled in the thick vines of
her hair, his hips dancing over hers.

She bucked and jerked beneath him, gasping as he spun her
round and pushed her face down toward the sofa, straddling her, locking his
thighs around her hips and bearing down.

She gasped, starting to tremble when she felt the hot, hard
length of him pressing against her backside, felt it through the thin cotton of
her panties.� She tried to draw breath,
to deny the thrumming pressure swelling her sex.� �You bastard,� she panted, �let�l-let me go��

He ground his hips against her ass in response, groaning
sharply as his cock fit itself into the shallow crevice of her pussy, pushing
against the damp cotton of her panties.�
Her panic and arousal spiraled higher, but when she pushed back against
him, trying to shove him off, it only increased the friction between them, the
hot tip of his cock slipping a little beneath the edge of the fabric, just
brushing the entrance to her pussy.�

She moaned at the contact, a long, low wail of aching,
desperate need, and heard his horse, breathless answer.

�Ohhhhh, yes, Granger�I�m going to fuck
you��

�Yes!� she cried
out, unable to stop herself, the answer torn from her without her conscious
control, a sharp pang piercing her sex as her muscles clamped down hard at
nothing, aching, needing to be full.�

His hands flew to her hips, pulling her back tight against
him, and he began to move, grinding his hips against her cotton-clad backside,
teasing her with his heat.

�God, I�m going to
fuck you,� he panted, reaching between them to cup her mound, squeezing the
soft flesh with his hand.� She moaned as
the heel of his hand pressed hard against her clit, gasped as his fingers
slipped beneath the thin cotton and lashed at her swollen nub.� He was merciless and set a quick, hard rhythm,
teasing the cleft between her thighs with the hot slide of his cock, the bulbous
head poking at her entrance as his fingers whipped back and forth across her
clit.�

She was moaning almost continuously now, horribly and
completely caught in her fast and explosive arousal, her cries growing louder,
thighs trembling and clamping down on his swift moving hand.� His other reached beneath her and blindly
groped for her breasts, squeezing each in turn, and when he caught a nipple
between his fingers and pinched hard, she came in a great rush�and everything
shut down�light and sound, her memories and her pain, nothing but the pure fire
pulsing out from between her thighs.� She
shook and trembled as the waves rode out, and she crashed back, panting.

That�s when he tore her panties from her backside and plunged
his cock inside her, cutting through her flesh so swiftly she winced in pain
even as her body exploded again, and another orgasm, sharp and fierce, tore
through her.

He groaned as her vaginal muscles spasmed
and clamped down on his invading length, and he held still as her body pumped
him.� When it slowed he began to move,
but so slowly it was maddening, a complete contrast to his earlier, frantic
movements, he took an age to bury his cock inside her only to slowly pull it
out again, almost to the tip, pausing at her entrance before driving back into
her, at a torturous, agonizing pace.

His harsh breathing was echoed by her helpless moans, and
when she thought she couldn�t take anymore, her body plunged over the edge
again.

As she trembled he pulled away, panting harshly.� Pulled away until the
sweaty, slick heat of his body was no longer touching hers.� She felt and heard the weight of his body
fall back against the sofa back, tucked behind her.� The sudden absence of his weight and heat,
after so long in contact with it was so startling that for a moment she hardly
knew herself.� She glanced over her
shoulder to see him lying along the edge of the sofa, his eyes closed and his
chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.�
Had he�had he�come?� She blushed even
as she thought it.� What a terrible,
awkward thing to be thinking of, so soon after all that had happened.

My god�

What had happened.

The enormity of it all suddenly penetrated the satiated fog
of her pleasure.� She felt sick,
suddenly, desperately sick.� Oh god, what had happened!� She just couldn�t believe it�

�I need clothes,� he said behind her, as she stupidly
persisted on her hands and knees beside him, her naked backside exposed to the
cold.�

Almost immediately she felt its sharp, merciless bite.� She gasped and dove beneath the covers,
pulling them over her bared flesh.� She
fell against him, and he immediately pulled away, jumping from the sofa as if
she were riddled with plague, hastily removing himself from her vicinity.� Her throat began to burn with suppressed tears.� She blinked in confusion, trying to contain
the shame and regret that started to well up inside her.

The stupid, heartless bastard!

�I need clothes.� He continued, �I�m getting cold.�� His voice was flat and distant as he stood in
the pale light of the fire, completely and gloriously nude, for even now she
couldn�t help but admire the tall, slender length of his body.� He was silvered and perfect, elegant and masculine
all at once.

Had she really�how could she have?

She stifled a sob, somehow found breath to answer, pleased
when it managed to come out almost normal, certainly better than she expected.

�There are some in the b-bureau.� Men�s clothes.� In the room down the hall.� The b-bedroom.�

If he noticed the stutter he didn�t let on.� In fact, he was turned away from her, and she
couldn�t see his eyes, only the gleam of them from the side, his profile gilded
by the weak light of the fire.

He didn�t answer, gave no indication that he heard, but
strode across the floor to the hall, and disappeared swiftly inside its shadow
a moment later. �She heard the rusty
squeal of the bedroom door as it opened.

She lay there for a moment, still trying to process what she
felt, what had happened, what she should do now.� But nothing came to mind, and no answers
sounded in her head.� She now wanted
nothing more than to leave. To dash away as quickly and silently as she could,
before he got back�before they had to talk�god�how
could they talk?� She couldn�t.� Not about this.

Before she knew her own intention she got up from the sofa
and quickly dressed herself, pulling her clothes from the floor, where she�d
left them just last evening.� She could
hear no sound from her bedroom, not a whisper�but rather than wonder what he
was doing, and why he hadn�t emerged, she bent quickly and whistled low for Crookshanks.� He had,
predictably, sought the refuge of the bookshelves lining the mantle and each
side of the fireplace.� She tried to coax
him down, but the noise and what had happened must have terrified him.� He hissed at her when she tried to take him
down, and now she truly began to cry�cry for all that had jus happened and
because her stupid cat was stubborn.

She grabbed at him and unceremoniously stuffed him into his
basket, which she kept near at all times, just in case she had to leave
suddenly, as she did now.

She heard a sound from the bedroom, something heavy falling
to the floor.� Perhaps something from her
vanity�

It didn�t matter now.

She had to leave before he came back.� So grabbed a pinch of floo
powder and bent toward the fireplace.

�Godric�s Hollow!� she whispered, hoping
that Harry or�

�Ginny!� �she exclaimed when her friend�s familiar face appeared in
the flames.

�Hermione?� she asked, looking alarmed, and speaking entirely
too loud for her liking, �what�s the matter?�
Why are you calling so late?�

�Shhh! Ginny!� Please, I have to come now!� she said
frantically, �I need to apparate but I don�t have a
safe point.� The cold��

�But I don�t underst��

�Ginny, please!� Hermione pleaded,
as banked tears scalded the tender edges of her eyes, �don�t ask any questions,
I have to come.�

At the sight of her distress, her friend at last ceased her
questions, though she now looked more alarmed than ever.

�All right.� Give me a minute, then come on over.�

And her face disappeared from the flames.� Trust Ginny not to mince words.

Now she thought she heard the sound of his footsteps in the
hall, returning to the living room.� But she couldn�t�could not talk to him.

She counted to 30, waiting an agonizing eternity, but she
thought she heard him coming now, and anything was better than facing him.

She closed her eyes and apparated,
hoping it wasn�t too soon, but she couldn�t wait any longer.

When she opened them, she found Ginny, sweet, wonderful
Ginny waiting for her, Harry at her side.
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