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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7990 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I will not make a profit from this story

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Here we are at chapter 3. Thank you all for the wonderful responses, and I'm very excited to be able to share this experience with all of you. There will be an awful lot of darkness in this fic, so please be prepared. As always, I will reply to reviews, but this time around at the end of my chapters instead of before. Lots of love, and a big shout out to WayMay for editing this chapter. *hearts* It's amazing she can proof-read my lemons with a straight face. Oh, by the way, there's a lemon.
~A.

You only hold me up like this
Cause you don't know who I really am
I used to waste my time on
Waste my time on
Waste my time dreaming of being alive (now I only waste it dreaming of you)
Turn off the lights and turn off the shyness
Cause all of our moves make up for the silence
And oh, the way your makeup stains my pillowcase
Like I'll never be the same
I've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you, no
I've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you, no
I'm not trying
You only hold me up like this
"Of All The Gin Joints In All The World" by Fall Out Boy
Harry raised a cool eyebrow. "So you're going to marry Draco Malfoy? How does that work?"
"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione asked, shifting in the seat next to him outside Lucius Malfoy's personal room. It was simply amazing (and disgusting) what an obscene amount of money could buy: a private room, a private healer, a private conversation with a son instead of talking directly to a Ministry official like Harry. She wasn't entirely sure it was legal, but the loopholes they managed to find were admittedly extraordinary. And here she was, about to marry into it.
"I mean… It's Malfoy. He's the polar opposite of Ron, you know?" Harry rubbed his exhausted eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "He's not funny, or kind, or particularly generous."
"Yes, he is." She frowned at him. "You just don't see that side of him because you're too busy trying not to vomit at the sight of us every five seconds."
Harry cracked a smile and glanced over at her. "Yeah. You two make me sick."
They both laughed as the door swung open, and Draco stalked out looking rather pale and extremely disgruntled. Any happiness that he had walked in with had been left back in the room. Or perhaps it had just been snuffed out like a flame altogether. He glanced over to Harry, plucked the clipboard from his lap, and began to scribble down notes with the pen connected to the board by a tie-string. "I'll have a report on your desk by tomorrow," he told him, not bothering to look Hermione or Harry in the eyes. As he jotted down his statement, he added, "Oh. And I'm going to need a portkey."
"To where?" asked Harry.
"Azkaban."
"What?" Hermione frowned. "What are you going on about, Draco?"
"Look." He sat down his pen and shoved the clipboard into Harry's stomach. "My Father doesn't want a word of this getting out to anyone, so if either of you so much as make a peep I'll not be responsible for whatever rein of Hell my father unleashes if he found out I told you." He motioned for the both of them to come in closer, and when they did, he leaned forward and whispered, "Someone's got the Pandora Stone. They used it on my twat of a Father, and they're coming after the ex-Death Eaters. I'm going to need details as to every free Death Eater you have on file, and I need a protective order put on all of their families."
Hermione took her time to process Draco's words, but Harry jumped right on in. "You got all of that from the ten minutes you were in there? I've been trying nearly half the night!"
"Guess the great and powerful Harry Potter isn't good at something, finally?" Draco smirked.
Hermione ignored their quipping, opting to listen to her inner monologue instead. It was like all her proverbial chickens had finally come to roost. The Pandora Stone? They'd been searching for it ever since Greg Diggle had been taken into custody, but without its tie to the Gray Magic, it was impossible to trace. That nasty bit about it sucking up magic like a wind tunnel meant that any tracking spells would simply dissolve as if they were cotton candy to water. She had tried on her time off working different cases to search high and low -it was one of the things that kept her up at night. The other… well, she'd rather go back to dreaming about her late husband than the other thing. And speaking of the other thing…
"Why do you need a portkey to Azkaban?"
Draco looked up from the clipboard that he and Harry were checking off. Hermione had a quick thought that it was rather adorable, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Draco gave a heavy sigh, shoved the clipboard into Harry's chest, which knocked the breath out of her friend, and took a step closer to her. "Alright, Granger. Look. You're not going to like it."
"You're damn right I'm not going to like it!" she shouted, stepping up to her fiancé (oh, wasn't that an odd word to apply to him? She'd need to get used to it.), "You told me he was going to rot there. Rot. Don't tell me you're honestly considering speaking with him!"
"What choice do we have, at this point?" He lowered his voice as two Healers strolled by. "He's the only one who knows where the stone was last placed. He's our only connection."
Hermione's body broke out into a cold sweat, and her hands were clammy as she squeezed them into fists and released them. No. She didn't want to think about this -not even consider it. "I won't be a part of it," she told him, and then glanced over to Harry. "Do you hear me, Harry Potter? I won't be a part of any of it. Send me on protection detail. I don't want to be anywhere near here when you two speak with him."
Harry's green eyes glistened back at her with humility and pity, and he nodded slowly while chewing at his bottom lip. "Alright, Hermione. Whatever you want."
She sighed, grateful. "Thank you." She turned her attention back to Draco. "Why do I feel like there's something you're not telling us?" It was written all over his shining gray eyes -a darkness lurked behind them that she had only seen in their first days together, before his confessions. She wished, for a blink of a moment, that she still had the Gray Magic so that she might peer into his mind and get a peek of what was rolling around in there.
"I'm telling you everything significant to the case," he scowled. "Don't accuse me of holding back information, Hermione. I'm insulted."
"Well, you can be insulted all you want, Draco, but I know you better than you know yourself sometimes."
His eyes rolled. "Sometimes, you sound just like Astoria."
A surge of anger flooded within her, and she gasped. She tried to pretend that the insult did not, in fact, insult her, but considering he had married that witch and divorced her, it didn't set right being penned in the same category as his ex-wife. Especially when she now wore a ring that signified she was going to spend the rest of her life with him. She placed her hands on her hips, fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress, and stomped her foot. "Well, if I sound like Astoria I might as well act like her as well. You're sleeping on the lounge!" She gathered up all of the strength she could muster to flash him one of his own smirks and added, "Oh, and I told Harry about our engagement without you! He was practically horrified, and you missed the entire thing!"
"Oh, for fucks sakes!" he called out to her as she stomped away, heading in the direction of the floos that would be provided on the first floor. "You know how much I wanted to see that!"
Harry stared between the two, torn between his duties as an Auror and his duties as a best friend. He stayed in his current position as Head Auror, however, and settled on flashing Draco a smile and stating, "I even threw my shoe."
"Damn it! Did you at least record it on your camera thingy?"
Much to Draco's disappointment, he did indeed get banned from the bed when he arrived home. His pillow and one of his favorite throw blankets were piled neatly on the corner of the chase-lounge, while Hermione had made a bundle of pillows in Draco's spot on the bed and proceeded to snuggle them in her sleep. He'd been stuck with Potter for two more hours, filing paperwork and preparing for the briefing tomorrow, after which he would have a portkey waiting for him to send him on a round trip to Azkaban to face off with his arch nemesis.
Merlin, right now all he wanted to do was shag the living daylights out of Hermione and fall asleep in a post-orgasm induced coma. He set his work briefcase down at the edge of the door, unclasped his robes, and let them fall to the floor before he approached the bed. She was asleep, looking as angelic as ever despite the fact that she was a cold, calculating witch who had told him he wasn't allowed to sleep in his own bed. Well, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He reached for the covers, planning on removing the pillows one at a time to climb in, but as soon as his fingers wrapped around the silk material, he heard her soft voice whisper, "Do it and I'll hex you."
"For fuck's sake, Hermione," he grumbled, yanking the covers back and tossing all the pillows off at once. "This is a bit uncalled for." He made sure to leave the covers on her side of the bed intact -the last thing he wanted to do was piss her off even more. "Let me sleep with you."
"No." She pried an eye open and rolled onto her stomach, spreading her arms and legs across the bed in a show of claim. "If you want to call me Astoria Greengrass, I will act like Astoria Greengrass."
"Mione…"
She jerked her head up, but still kept her position as queen of the bed. "You don't get to 'Mione' me, Draco."
He crossed his arms like a two-year-old. "It's my bed."
"Our bed," she corrected. "Or did you forget you asked me to be your wife this evening?"
"No. I'm very much aware. Which is why I want to climb into the bed with you and do unholy things to your body right now." He shifted on his feet, frustrated. "I'm sorry, alright? There's just some things that I couldn't discuss in front of Potter."
Hermione rolled over onto her back, arms still spread out but appearing a bit more approachable. "Are you going to tell me, then?"
"If I can sleep in the bed."
She chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating her next move. With a sigh, she scooted over to her side and allowed Draco to climb in with her. Satisfied that he had won the battle, he picked up one of the pillows from the floor, tossed it on the bed, and gracefully slipped in next to her, pulling her close so that they both lay on their sides, nose to nose. "I can't believe I had to barter with information to get back into bed with you."
She wrapped one of her bare legs around him -oh, Merlin, was she only wearing panties? That was entirely too sexy for what he had been prepared for. He wished now that he had stripped down out of his clothes, but here he was. At least he was back in the bed. "Tell me," she whispered to him.
Draco stared into Hermione's chocolate colored eyes, at the cute cupid's bow in her upper lip and her tiny nose, melting into the man he could only be around her behind closed doors. She had a way of making him forget all about his past and all of the terrible things he had done. How could he afford not to tell her all of his secrets? Even if they were embarrassing and far more sinister than she'd ever imagine. The Malfoy family had a way of turning everything beautiful into ash. Would he burn through her the way he had everything else worth having in his life? Would he do it to Scorpius, like his father did to him? He didn't want to, but the way he was holding in these secrets… it was turning him right into Lucius Malfoy. He shook his head, sighing. "I'm afraid to."
"Draco, since when are you afraid of anything?"
"Since always." He managed a smirk, searching her beautiful doe eyes for something, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was. He just knew he had to find it. "Don't you know anything about me?"
She held back a giggle and brushed her nose against his. "Would you like to know what I think?"
He nodded, slowly. Yes, he very much did want to know. He really wanted her to tell him that he wasn't worth all this headache. Maybe then he'd feel like he was being held responsible. She didn't always need to forgive him -he wasn't sure he could bestow that kind of forgiveness to anyone the way she'd give to him again and again.
"I think," she said, slipping a hand around the back of his head to rub her fingers through his blonde locks. Her touch was his escape from reality. "Everyone is afraid. But you always manage to overcome your fears and push through them, despite the fact that you'd like to let them cripple you. Giving in to them would be easier, but you aren't the type of man to do anything the easy way. Not anymore."
"You put far too much faith in my resolve," he muttered. He kissed her once, soft and tender. He wanted to remember this moment- the one before she knew the ugly truth about the family she had agreed to marry into. "Hermione, I don't know how to soften the blow, so I'm just going to come out and say it."
"Okay?"
He sighed and closed his eyes. "My father was the one to sell Diggle the stone. He's the reason for all of this chaos we've gone through." He pinched his eyes, fighting the urge to throw them open to see her face. He knew he didn't need to see the moment that she lost all faith in him. The silence grew with each passing moment, and he felt her shift on the bed. His eyes betrayed him eventually, and he pried one open to find her sitting up next to him, knees to chest, staring up at the star-lit ceiling that was his bedroom constellation. He glanced up with her, trying to pinpoint what cluster of stars she was staring at exactly. The only one he could find that matched was the one that he was named after. He fought back the urge to scream and instead let his other eye fall open and simply stared up at the ceiling with her. Minutes went by like this, staring in silence without the comfort of knowing what she was thinking. He was just about to plan to slip out of the bed to go sleep on the lounge again when she broke her statue-like demeanor and reached out, grabbing his arm and slipping it around her. He sat up next to her, drawing her closer, leaving kisses along her shoulder. "Say something."
She trailed her eyes over to his, determined. "We could get him thrown in Azkaban."
This wasn't what Draco expected to hear, and he scowled. "What?"
"If he sold Diggle the stone, that's something incarcerating he's done after the War. With proper proof, he could pay for all of his crimes."
Merlin, that witch was brilliant. She never ceased to amaze him. Though… "I doubt it will do any good. He's dying."
And there was the person he fell in love with; her eyes softened and she reached out, touching his cheek. He didn't deserve this kind of affection, especially after being a right ass to her, but here she was, comforting him when he should have been the one to comfort her. "How?" she asked.
"Condition in the lungs. Whoever used the stone on him must have known it -without his magic, the herbs he's been using no longer contain the illness."
She stroked his cheek in a delicate manner. "Are you alright?"
He sneered silently, jerking out of her touch. "I could care less how I feel right now. -How are you? I tell you my family is responsible for your ex-husband's death, and you want to know how I'm doing?" He fought back the urge to laugh mockingly. "If that arrogant bastard hadn't been so self-preserving, Weasley might still be alive. No. He would be." He slammed his fist down on the bed. "Fuck!"
"Draco, calm down."
"Calm down?" His voice rose an octave. "You expect me to calm down? How the bloody Hell do I go about that, Hermione? I don't deserve to put that ring on your finger! I don't deserve you! That goddamn Weasley boggart was right! I don't deserve-"
But he was cut off when her soft lips captured his in a distorting, mind-boggling kiss that nearly knocked him back on the bed. He groaned, knowing that he should rip himself away. But there was a selfishness in him that he had inherited from his Father, and instead of doing the right thing, he allowed the kiss, even going so far as to kiss her back, licking along her bottom lip and pushing her back down against the downy pillow top. He climbed on top of her, determined to pour his emotions into each and every bit of skin-to-skin contact. One of his hands went up into her hair, gripping it tightly while the other slipped down around her pelvis. He was sure his fingers would bruise her by the way he was forcing his fingers into her skin, but Hermione didn't seem to mind. Her lips crashed against his like an ocean wave, pulling him deeper into the current of her love.
"Draco," she whispered, dipping her head lower and kissing along the pulse point in his neck. "Let it out."
He closed his eyes, frustration building within him. "Don't… deserve…" he struggled out, his throat tightening.
"You do." She found his lips again, hungrily tugging at his lower lip with his teeth while her hands slid down his back and gripped his ass cheeks. If there was one thing Hermione was good at, it was tempting him. He wanted so desperately to pour his emotions into this, but he knew he didn't have any right to. But by the way his body was reacting, he might not have a choice in the matter anymore. Hermione's eyes found his, and she practically begged him. "Trust me." She blinked, taking one of her hands to brush along his jaw. "Let it out, Draco. Please."
"Hermione…" He stared down at the wondrous woman underneath him who would rather him let his body talk to her in angry, volatile ways than to bottle it up. Who would rather let him let it all out than talk about her own feelings. Who, despite his sharp tongue and defining glare, forgave him for his family's mistakes. What kind of creature was she? Surely, she wasn't human.
Giving in, he drove his mouth down on hers, growling through the harsh kiss as he snatched up both of her wrists and threw them above her head. In one quick movement, he slipped both of her wrists into one of his large hands and held them firmly there. If he was going to let it out, he was going to do it right. With his free hand, he found around for his wand in its hilt on his belt and unsheathed it. He brought it up to her wrists and without speaking bound them together, weighting them so that she would have no way to move them from their current position. This was new territory for them; he loved being in control, but he had never taken her free choice out of the matter. He scanned over her eyes to assess that it was alright, and she nodded.
He smirked, more confident now, and pointed the wand at her collar bone. "You want me to let it out, Hermione?" His voice was low, gravely. "Is that what you want?" Her eyes left his and traveled down to his wand, where she gave an anxious sigh and nodded.
"That's exactly what I want," she told him.
"Bold words."
"I'm a bold woman."
He chuckled darkly. "That you are." He dragged the wand down her skin, letting his magic flow into it to warm the tip. She gasped as it heated over the flesh of her breast, and she instinctively wriggled against her wrists. Her legs rubbed against each other as the wand caressed against the freshly pebbled nipple underneath her black camisole. Sweet baby dragons, those tits were just begging to be sucked. But he wanted to drag the moment out, so he whispered, "Diffindo." His wand did the rest, cutting through the material of her shirt in a vertical line all the way down her stomach. Hermione scowled at him as he pushed the annoying fabric to the side to reveal her gorgeous breasts.
"I liked that shirt."
"You're going to like what I do to you more," he teased and dipped his head low to slide his tongue over the hot mound of flesh. He placed the tip of his wand on the other nipple while he lapped at the one in front of him, sucking and licking and occasionally nipping at it between his teeth. Hermione moaned softly above him, and he smirked. His struggles seemed so distant to him now; all of his efforts were being thrown into doing whatever he wanted to her. He drew tiny circles with his wand over her pert nipple as he abandoned the one in front of him and trailed his tongue in a path across her sternum to the other one. He alternated between the heat of the wand, the wetness of his tongue, and the cool air of the bedroom as he teased her breast.
Hermione groaned loudly, draping a leg over his waist. "Draco… mmfuck…"
He said not a word as he reached up with his free hand and pinched her abandoned nipple harshly, eliciting a slur of obscenities from his fiancé's lips, followed by an arch of her back. He slipped the entire breast in front of him into his mouth and suckled at it. Her skin across his tongue made all of the world's problems melt away. This was where he felt like home, lost in the skin to skin contact with her, and knowing that she loved every moment of it. He wanted to abandon himself into her, and if that meant he'd need to physically act that out, well… that was just icing on the cake.
He drew his face up and released her breast, taking to staring at them in great detail. Her chest heaved up and down between jagged breaths, and her eyes were closed, lost in a daze of punch-drunk lust. "So stunning," he muttered to himself, setting his wand on a course down her stomach to blaze a trail to the dip of her belly button. Her breath caught, and she laid still in obedience. He took his wand further down, right over the fabric of her lacy underwear. Hermione gasped, and her legs spread apart. The leg that had been draped over him abandoned its position to make room for him as he scooted down on the bed to nestle between her legs. He set the hilt of his wand right against the nub of her clit, still covered by her already soaked underwear, and whispered, "Vibratoem." His wand lit to life with pulsations, and Hermione moaned mercifully as her body was rocked with the vibrations. Her head fell back, her mouth parted, and she panted desperately as he moved his wand against her, sliding it up and down her clit while teasing the base of it along her folds. From this angle, she was by far the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid his eyes upon.
He loved watching her gasp and sigh as he played with his wand against her, rubbing circles around her nub, occasionally trading his wand for his lips to taste her. He broke down after only two minutes and yanked her underwear down her legs to shove them into her mouth. "Not a word, Hermione," he winked. He took his place between her legs again, this time relishing in slipping the hilt of his wand inside of her as he lapped at her aching clit. He was going to enjoy going to work and knowing that the same wand that he used to bring in criminals was the one he used to bring his lover to ecstasy.
Hermione moaned into the soaking panties lodged in her mouth and arched her hips up to meet the thrusting vibrations of his wand and the gentle caress of his tongue. He titled the angle of the hilt, and she all but screamed in pleasure. Her muffled moan made his already pressing erection spring to life in his pants. He wasn't going to be able to hold out long, he knew, before he would have to take her in the most immodest ways possible.
"Fuck, love. You taste exquisite," he breathed against her thigh, diving in for another taste. He could feel her legs shaking next to his head, and he smirked as he trailed his tongue leisurely up and down. "I love it when you shiver." He withdrew his wand from her and licked it clean before pointing the tip, still pulsing with warmth, to her clit. He wanted to bring her over that divine edge of reason and logic and spill her into his darkness. There was so much of it still left in him, despite the way he had turned his life around. He was a Malfoy, after all, and Malfoys were synonymous with the loss of a halo. Hermione always wanted to find the damned thing, but she might as well accept the fact that it was never coming back, and even if it were to, it would be held up with a set of horns.
She came undone, squeezing her thighs around his head and screaming softly into the fabric gagging her. Draco smirked, plunging his tongue into her to taste her as she came. This was where he wanted to be, not in a hospital by his father's side and not on his way to Azkaban to face down the man who was Draco Malfoy's own personal Hell. He wished he could stay here forever between the sheets of his bed. This was his own personal Heaven, after all.
He sat upright when he was sure she was spent and tossed his wand over to the floor. He'd retrieve it later; right now was all about hearing Hermione scream again. He reached up, tugged the underwear out of her mouth, and cast it aside next to his wand. "I want to hear it. Who do you belong to?"
"You," she whispered, staring at him through lustful slits.
"And who do I belong to?"
"Me."
"That's right. And I'm not going to let anything come between that." He reached down and unbuckled his belt, slid it through the loops of his slacks, and tossed it over to the floor. "Do you hear me, Hermione?" His eyes never left hers as he unclasped the button of his pants and untucked himself, freeing his cock. He stroked himself, pants hanging loosely off of his hips and his skin shimmering over with a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Hermione's eyes fell hungrily to the dick in his hand, biting her lower lip and groaning for any contact. He chuckled when her leg came at him unexpectedly, hooking him around the hip and tugging him forward. He caught himself before he fell forward, and from there he climbed on top of her, teasing her with the head of his cock, rubbing it against her clit and down the trail of wetness. He made a point to push the tip right against her entrance but not slipping it in. "Someone wants it bad. Do you know how wet you are?"
"So wet," she murmured. "I'm so wet, and it's all for you, Draco. My body, my heart, it's all for you." She closed her eyes and tried to rut against him.
"Tell me what's mine."
"Me."
"That mouth?"
"Yes. It's yours."
"That's right." He rested the length of his shaft between her folds, grinding against her, loving the slip and slide that she could produce between her legs. "And that delectable arse. That's mine, too."
"Yes," she hissed, struggling against the restraint of magic that bound her arms above her head still.
"And your pussy… that's mine. Would you like me to fuck you, Hermione? Would you like me to fuck that scrumptious little cunt until you're screaming and spent?"
"Yes!" She threw her head back as a bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. "Please, Draco. Fuck me. I can't take it anymore. Please quit teasing me…"
"But that's how I show my love," he whispered into her ear. "And I love you so much."
"Perhaps you should love me a bit less," she chided, and they both shared a quiet laugh before he cut her off guard and rammed his dick into her. Her laugh faded away into a lively moan, and her head fell back once again against the pillows. "God, yes."
"God…" Draco stayed there for a moment, lost inside of her before he brought his cock out just to the tip. "…has nothing…" He slammed harshly into her, forcing her to bite back a scream. "…to do with this." The feeling of her lovely pussy tightening around his dick made him groan, and he focused solely on thrusting in and out of her, scooping her legs up around his sides and tucking his hands under her calves to better the angle. He drove hard into her over and over again, every thrust building his sense of urgency to release all of his pent up rage. He didn't want to think about the pain that he felt in the wake of his Father's newest betrayal. He didn't want to imagine the anger he would feel when he had to look Diggle in the eyes again. He didn't want to know that he had brought Hermione in, yet again, to his drama-filled life, expecting her to understand it. He was the epitome of a self-deploring megalomaniac.
His thrusts became harsher, and he leaned over to bite dangerously at her neck. She gasped and sighed, but didn't push him away, instead taking every bit of his cruelty. He released her legs and gripped her hips, digging his nails into the point where he was damn sure he drew blood. She yipped into his mouth as she kissed him over and over, but said nothing. She just tightened her grip on him and moved her hips with his, taking the pain like it was a baptism- as if him bestowing his grief upon her was absolving him of his sins. "Fuck… me…" she hissed between bated breaths.
Draco could only oblige, speeding up his rhythm as beads of sweat broke across his brow. "Love… you…" He muttered through clenched teeth before he bit down on her shoulder and stayed there. He suckled on the skin, bruising it, claiming what was his. This was his Hermione. His love. His goddess. He would never let his Father or any secrets come between them again. He was going to marry her, and love her, and unconditionally give her his heart. This would be the mother to his son, to his future children, to his beating heart. This stirred a new emotion in him, and he released her hips from his hands, drawing them up to her face to brush away her wild curls. "I love you," he told her as his thrusts slowed until he was simply rolling into her. Hermione's eyelashes fluttered open and closed, reacting to the new sensation as he didn't simply fuck her, but made love to her. He placed his hands on the side of her face, planting soft kisses on her lips. "Need you… to tell me…"
The corners of her mouth pulled upwards, and even though her eyes were closed, she reached up and stroked his cheek with her hand. "Love you too, you… ah... silly man."
He turned his face towards her hand and kissed her palm before he slipped one of her slender fingers into his mouth. He suckled on it, then went to the next one, and the next one while he drove his hips forward and into her, rubbing his pelvis against her clit. From this angle, he could feel the moment building, could feel the way she tightened around him as he drove home. He pushed further into her, wanting to fill her up. She moaned as she arched her back, and Draco knew then that she was close. He slipped a hand between them and began to trace circles on her most sensitive point as he quickened the pace. With a fumble of words, Hermione came, whispered, "Fucking-love-you-Draco."
He tried to ride out her orgasm, but her words sent him over the edge as well until he was spilling his cum into her and groaning out, "Love you too." Their bodies spent, he laid there, still draped between her legs as he came down from his high. He opened his eyes, found hers, and smirked. "How's that for letting it out?" He willed the spell on her wrists to dispel.
She giggled, nudging him playfully in the shoulder. Chewing on her lower lip, Hermione leaned up and wrapped her arms around Draco's neck. "That was erotic."
"Yeah?" His smirk widened. "Well, I don't like to brag, but I hear I'm a wizard in the bedroom." His double entendre made them both barrel over with laughter until finally Draco removed himself from her and rolled over onto his back. He reached over and pulled her to his chest, the biggest shit-eating grin spread across his face. It was in that moment that Draco vowed, to himself, that he would never hide anything from her again. He'd be open and upfront and everything that she needed him to be. That's what a husband was supposed to do, and sooner, rather than later, he would be that husband.
Oh, but if Draco only knew just how terribly he would break that silent vow, he would have never made it at all.
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties