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Black Widow	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 35493 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I don't own HP, JKR does. I make no money doing this but I do get carpel tunnel.

Chapter List
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He almost felt bad for her, lying there across his lap with silent tears streaming down her cheeks. He could tell that she’d never been introduced to this kind of lifestyle. Hell, she’d only known pain and darkness since the war and Merlin knew she was too interested in books and learning and knowing everything there was to be known to experiment. But this was part of breaking the hold of the bloodstone. If she didn’t find some way to deal with the guilt, she’d succumb again. It was like she said; it was easier to just obey. But that was the curse and she needed something to remember.
“Now, how many men have you ensnared Granger?” She made a choking noise. “Okay, a different question. How many men have you married Granger?”
“Thirteen,” she said hoarsely.
“Then we’ll start with thirteen. One for each man you allowed that monster to get.”
“I didn’t-”
“Save it,” he cut her off. “They weren’t angels but you still did it… rather quickly actually. And without detection which means you put forth effort, you tried. So… punishment.”
She started sobbing but nodded her head just the same. He rubbed her bum, contemplating how she was processing this. He didn’t blame her for her actions. Merlin knew his parents hadn’t been able to resist. Not even when the Dark Lord was mostly dead could they shake their orders. He didn’t want to see her like them, stuck in a room at St. Mungo’s because the binding broke too quickly after so many years of enslavement. He frowned and raised his hand.
“You will count these,” he ordered.
She nodded and he brought his hand down on her right cheek, trying not to hit too hard. He wasn’t going to go easy on her though. This wasn’t going to be a sensual spanking, though he’d love to give her one of those as well. She choked on a scream but managed to keep herself under control.
“O-one,” she whimpered.
He hit her again, this time on the left cheek. She did yell that time but managed to count it. Over and over, he gave her medium swats. He didn’t try to rub over the welts or test her for her responsiveness. This was pure punishment. He entertained a distant fantasy that she would be able to tell the difference and crave this in a different setting, but he brought his mind to heel again. This was a reckoning, not a dalliance.
“Th-th-thir-t-teen,” she blubbered.
“Good girl,” he said, rubbing her bum softly to feel the damage he’d done. He wanted to make sure she was okay. “Do you feel bad for marrying all of those men?”
“Y-es,” she breathed and then shook her head.
He sighed. This was her conscience warring with the curse. He hadn’t gone far enough. “How many times did you… have second thoughts during each… courting?” He cringed, knowing how bad that sounded but he had to word it in a way she could answer it.
“E-each d-date,” she whispered.
“And if you had to average out dates per husbands, how many is that?”
She trembled in his arms as she thought it over. “T-ten.”
He nodded. “Ten more then.”
She took her swats a little better the second time. She only cried instead of screaming. Her struggling had stopped. While she still tensed, she seemed resigned to her punishment. He listened as her breath hitched with each swat, carefully gaging her emotional state and comparing it to the darkness he felt radiating from her. She needed more.
“That makes twenty three,” he said softly. “But you deserve more, don’t you?” She sniffled and shook her head fiercely. “Come now, let’s be honest, Granger. Do you think twenty three light swats is going to absolve you from the fact that thirteen men have died because of you?”
“I didn’t-“
“Kill them, yes, I heard that part. But you lured them into your web to be killed, just like a black widow spider. That’s what they call you, you know. And the only reason they haven’t pinned you yet is because you’ve been out of the country during each and every one of your unlucky husbands’ demises. But you’ve called attention to yourself, a rather deadly mistake.”
“How,” she whispered.
His mouth twisted up into a cruel smirk, though he knew she couldn’t see it. “That’s for me to know… and you to never find out. Suffice it to say… your assassin is getting sloppy. And perhaps a tiny bit desperate. How many times have you been to see him?”
She let out a harsh breath. “Seven.”
He hummed. “Was it after every pair?” She nodded and started crying harder. “Did you want to?” Another nod, more wracking sobs. “Was it because you wanted to see him or the pull was too strong?”
She screamed in anguish. “I’m weak.”
“Then you’ve earned yourself another fourteen. These will be harder, as you didn’t fight hard enough. You will count them.”
“I ha-… ha-…ha- … t-t-t- AAARRRGH.”
He chuckled. “Yes I know, you hate me. You should, really. I’m finally making you pay. But you still can’t say it… so I think we’ll tack on another thirteen for each time you couldn’t say it before. So, that will make twenty seven more for an even fifty.”
He knew it was harsh. He would hardly start with fifty swats with any other girl, especially someone new to the scene. But she wasn’t part of his scene. She was here to pay… sort of a rehab really. He had to keep reminding himself. But after this, if she was ready, he could give her more pleasure. He was already running things through his mind, different sensations he could introduce her to, different feelings. He shook himself and smacked her again, harder this time.
“ONE!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, unable to do anything else.
He dealt out each blow with precision, control, and careful planning. He didn’t want to truly hurt her, but he didn’t want her to forget this… ever. He wanted this to be the first thing that went through her mind every time she wanted to give in. He had to give her an experience that was stronger than the curse, one that lingered.
As the spanking wore on, he felt her give in. She wasn’t fighting it any longer. She’d accepted it. It was more than he could hope for. He had half expected her to still be fighting. But he supposed the curse had worn her down too far, which was what he’d feared in the first place. Much longer and she would have been too far gone… like his parents. He shrugged it off and administered the final swat.
“T-t-tw-w-wen-nty s-sev-ven,” she managed to blubber.
He sighed and carefully turned her over, making sure to keep her on her side. Her bum was bright red and it would be painful… and persistent. He drew her into his arms, laying her head on his shoulder. She broke apart in his arms, completely losing it. This wasn’t the blubbering of pain; this was anguish and relief at the same time. It might even be gratitude, though he didn’t dare hope for it. She soaked his chest as she shook. He could sense the darkness retreating within her, the emotions inside her too much to combat.
He couldn’t wait for her to come down though. Her emotions were very high, but they hadn’t peaked. He gingerly picked her up and set her on the bed as gently as possible, feeling a little fizzle of arousal jolt through him when she moaned. He did love watching girls fight through the haze of pain and pleasure, trying to sort them out. He grabbed his wand and summoned a few of his favorite toys. A pair of nipple clamps, a finger vibrator, and a candle.
“W-wha-“
“Shhh,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “You took your punishment beautifully. That deserves a reward. But… you were still naughty, so this one will have a little bite to it.”
It took everything he had to still the trembling in his hands as he reached out to play with her nipples. He was hard again and he wanted her… badly. But this night wasn’t for him. So he teased each pink tip to a stiff peak before deftly clamping them. He did like these clamps so very much. They each had delicate jewels, in Slytherin green of course, hanging from them that were charmed to vibrate on command. The finger vibe could be charmed to hover above her clit. And he did, setting it for low. She struggled, moaning when her arse brushed the silk sheets. He knew from experience that it was a very decadent feeling. But she was dislodging the charm so he restrained her again, cuffing her hands and feet to the head and footboards. She gave in almost immediately, which pleased him so much he couldn’t help but praise her.
“Such a good girl,” he purred, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her quivering abdomen. “You look beautiful like this.”
“Pervert,” she hissed.
He chuckled. “Well done. But this picture isn’t complete yet. It needs some… color.”
She almost yelped when he lit the tip of his wand and held it to the candle, a lovely deep red color. He made a show of blowing out the fire on his wand and setting it to the side. She stared at the candle like it was a deadly poison. She’d surely felt the sting of candle wax before. No Hogwarts student escaped without having it happen once. But this was a special candle with a low melting point. It had bite but it wasn’t lingering.
“Mmmm… I think this color will look lovely on you.”
“Burn,” she gasped.
“Only a little,” he said with a quirked lip.
The first drop made her scream and then blink in surprise when it didn’t blister her skin. He started drizzling it around her belly button, admiring the crimson against her skin. Then he had an idea. He drew intricate lines on her stomach and framed each of her breasts. Then he tapped his wand to the side of the candle and nodded when it turned a rich gold color. He drizzled some more, crossing and bisecting lines in precise patterns and circling her nipples. Once again, he tapped the candle and it changed to deep green. He drew some more, drawing a horizontal line across her breasts and across her pubic bone. Again he tapped the candle, changing it to brilliant silver. He drew vertical lines on her breasts that time and bisected them, making a line straight to the finger vibrator. He was glad she kept her hair trimmed neatly. It would have made a mess otherwise.
The entire time he was drawing, she couldn’t resist gasping and moaning. When he was finished, he tapped each of the nipple clamps, making them vibrate. She arched as far in the air as she could, groaning in pain and pleasure. He tapped the finger vibrator, increasing the speed. That made her moan with abandon, forgetting what he’d done in the wake of pleasure.
“I was right,” he mused, studying his handy work. “Color looks amazing on you.”
“Wh.. what d-di- ahhhhh…”
He smirked. She couldn’t even form coherent sentences any more. But he needed her lucid enough to understand what he’d done, so he stopped the vibrations. He had to chuckle when she started whining in protest.
“Now, now, we must be patient. Besides, don’t you want to view my artwork?”
She nodded pitifully, waiting impatiently for him to summon a simple mirror. That was all he needed was for her to mirror call someone. So he called the one from the loo, one he’d specifically charmed to remain silent while showing him all his good points. He’d needed the ego boost after the grueling years of trying to remain cruel and aloof while spewing hatred and lies.
She cried out in shock when she viewed herself. He had to admit that she looked amazing. It had been hard to draw the runes backwards so they’d show up correctly in the mirror. He’d drawn the rune for strength right over her diaphragm, where the magical core resided beneath. The warrior’s rune ran across her stomach. The rune for transformation was drawn on each of her breasts. Most importantly, the rune for love and forgiveness had been drizzled across her entire torso. He’d interspersed ancient Celtic symbols for beauty, intelligence, perseverance, and power. He’d written a description of everything he thought Hermione Granger was… where she could see it. She needed the affirmations.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered hoarsely, tears cascading down her face.
He smiled sadly and sent the mirror back to the loo. “So are you.”
Before she could protest or ask why, he turned the vibrators on again and quickly knelt between her legs. She tasted much better, the poisonous enslavement potion gone. He quickly gorged himself on her essence, making sure to taste every inch of her. As she neared her peak, he inserted his fingers, feeling for the spot that would set her completely over. He came across the spongy spot, massaging it as he deactivated the vibe and sucked on her engorged clit. She let out a sharp cry that went silent as her body seized in pleasure. He stayed with her, not letting her come down. When she neared another peak, he reached up and took the clamps off. She yelled hoarsely, the prickly feeling of the blood rushing back to her abused nipples sending her over again.
He couldn’t let her go though. She was close, so close. He could sense it. So he added another finger and started pumping them harder, faster, making her writhe in her bonds. She thrashed and then jerked when her arse rubbed against the sheets. With a wicked smirk, he replaced his fingers with his tongue and reached underneath her, palming the fleshy globes. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she went over again, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. When she finally stopped trembling, he gave her nether lips a final kiss and undid her bonds. She managed to make a soft squeak before she passed out, the pleasure too much.
He sighed as he cleaned up the toys and sent them back to their respective places. Then he spelled the wax away, frowning in regret. He loved peeling it off as much as he loved drizzling it on. But this wasn’t about his pleasure, so he ignored his leaking erection and began the tiring process of binding the bloodstone. He put his hands on her temple and called to the curse. She had made remarkable process. He could feel it floating lazily in the back of her mind, unaware that anything had happened besides a rather unusual night. He lured it into a smaller portion of the mind, one she might be able to control with practice in occlumency. He couldn’t take it yet. It was still far too strong, but she wouldn’t need anything as drastic as what had happened that night. He might even be able to whisk her away for a few trysts, assuming she was willing after this. He might have scared the devil out of her.
When he was finished, he felt utterly drained. He hadn’t had to work that much intricate magic in a very long time. Oh, he’d weaved dark spells and anti-dark much longer and harder than most could stand, but trying not to destroy was much harder. It required control and focus, something extremely hard when his erection was constantly vying for attention. It just wouldn’t quit, but he couldn’t pay it attention to it then. Now it was still hard, aching it had been that way for so long. He stood up and his legs buckled, too weak to hold him. So he sat back down beside her.
Gritting his teeth, he took himself in hand. He would have loved to do this in the shower, to wash the cloying stench of darkness off of him. But as he tightened his grip, muttering a spell to slicken his hand, he settled for this. Memories of the evening spurred him on, but he twisted them into what he’d wanted it to be. Instead of the darkness in her eyes, there was fire and passion. She wasn’t scared or sad or full of regret. She wanted it, wanted him. He groaned, spilling his seed over the sheets, her name a ghost on his lips.
He cleaned the mess and crawled up behind her, cradling her protectively in his arms as he curled around her. She’d most likely try to hex him in the morning, but they both needed the sleep. It would be her first peaceful rest in four long years. And maybe his first.
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“How is she?”
Draco looked up from his tea to see Potter standing in his parlor. He should hardly be surprised. Of course he would be worried sick about his best friend. To tell the truth, Draco was worried, too. She still wasn’t awake yet and it was almost noon. Then again, he’d kept her up into the wee hours of the morning. He hoped she was just sleeping it off. He’d put up enough wards and charms to wake a herd of mountain trolls when she regained consciousness so he wasn’t worried about her escaping.
“Hard to say,” he finally answered. “She made good progress last night, but the darkness is creeping back in.”
Harry frowned. “Did it recede at all?”
He smirked. “She almost told me she hated me.”
Harry nodded, knowing what that meant. “How are you?”
Draco quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”
Harry snorted. “Because you look like you’ve been pulled a dozen miles behind a hippogriff.”
“Thanks for the visual,” he said dryly. “And I’ve been better. I haven’t used that much energy in a very long time.”
Harry nodded and helped himself to the comfy chair beside Draco. “Thanks.”
Draco nodded. “Thank your lover for me, would you? I would have been lost without that potion.”
“He’s dead set on collecting his debt, you know.”
Draco rolled his eyes and poured Harry a cup of tea, two sugars, no cream. “Of course he is. He was more than likely buried balls deep in his lovers arse, relishing screams.”
Harry blushed but managed to sip his tea without pause. “Yes, it was wonderful.”
“Until I called.”
Harry nodded. “I couldn’t shake it for a long time.”
Draco sighed. “I didn’t want to strip her naked Potter, not like that. But you should have seen what she’d covered herself in. Did you know she’s not allowed to cast protective charms? She’s had to make due with barriers and alluring spells.”
“How bad was it?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure how she’s sane. My parents only had to endure a few brutal years at a time… and you saw what happened.”
Harry nodded. “Has there been any improvements?”
Draco shook his head. “I can’t exactly fuck it out of them, can I?”
“Can they fuck it out of each other?”
Draco sighed. “I’ve tried everything, alluring charms, love potions, lust potions, aphrodisiacs, even a carefully placed imperio to try and get things started. There is nothing left really. The stones took all of their emotions… even the good ones. They’re shells.”
They were both silent for a very long time. Draco’s tea had gone quite cold when he felt the wards heat up. “She’s up.”
Harry pulled his cloak over his head. “You’ll probably need back up this morning.”
Draco chuckled humorlessly. “I’m actually hoping for it. Because if she comes on to me… well, let’s just hope she doesn’t.”
Draco entered the room cautiously, using his magic to sense anything awry. To his relief, she was still on the bed. She had the sheets pulled up to cover her nudity. Her eyes were wild with more fire than they had probably seen in years. He could practically feel the hatred radiating off her. It was disheartening… but good for her condition.
“Good morning,” he started softly, stepping into the room.
“You,” she hissed. “You’ve kidnapped me.”
He nodded and motioned for Harry to stay out of sight. It wasn’t hard, wearing a Silent Knight cloak. He dared to sit down on the end of the bed, watching warily as she drew her feet up away from him. He lit the candles in the room with a flick of his wand and summoned a robe for her.
“I did last night,” he admitted. “But you are free to go whenever you wish.”
She was breathing heavily, thoughts whirling past her eyes. “It didn’t work.”
He shook his head. “Not entirely. These things take time.”
“Time,” she repeated hollowly. “How much time?”
“We don’t have much,” he admitted. “The full moon is approaching. But I’m not a quitter. Are you?”
“No!” she snapped before cringing back, warring with herself.
He surged forward, slamming his lips over hers. She cried out in shock before melting into the kiss. Then, as the thought occurred to her, she pushed back. “What the bloody hell?”
“Better,” he said. “Think of that feeling when it comes down on you.”
She nodded, grudging respect and a hint of disgust in her expression. “What happens when I leave the wards?”
“Less control. I’ve pushed it into a portion of your mind. Study up on occlumency as much as you can. It will help you direct it. But the more you let it control you, the faster it will win. Right now, your… person whom which I will strangle with my bare hands… is none the wiser. But I dare not separate you for too long. Your clothes are freshly laundered and sitting on the dressing table in the bathroom. Feel free to freshen up. If you feel up to eating, you may join me in the breakfast nook. Call for Totty. She’ll take you there. You won’t be getting your wand until you return home.”
Hermione nodded and slipped the robe over herself, trying to keep as much hidden as possible. He thought it was adorable. Then again, he’d never dated a modest girl… or maybe it was that he didn’t date. His women were more… worldly… and knew that when he was through, they were going to be out on their arse if they didn’t show themselves out. He shook off the bitterness again and started to take down the wards.
“Wait,” she cried, peering out the door. “Who… who came last night? Who’s here?”
He glanced over at Potter, who moved further into the room. There was no point in hiding, not when she’d obviously seen him. He mused at what a remarkable feat that was but turned back to look at her.
“Like I said, you’ve played a dangerous game and have aroused suspicion. These people wish to give you a chance… to help you try and break this. They’ve enlisted my help. I’m afraid that I’m your last hope.”
“Who… what are they?” she whispered, staring at Harry.
“A group who wishes not to be named.”
She frowned. “Unspeakables.”
Draco chuckled. “They wish. But for now, they are on your side Granger. When you quit fighting… they’ll be the first to haul you to Azkaban.”
“Why won’t he show his face?”
“Are you sure it’s a male?” he asked casually.
Hermione frowned. “He feels male.”
Draco’s eyebrows rose to his hair line. “You can feel him?”
Hermione nodded. “I’ve always been able to feel magic, magical signatures.”
“Dark magic?” he asked with bated breath.
She frowned. “Not like you can. I… I see the essence. If I’ve come across them before, I can tell by the feel of them. But he… he’s different. I can feel that he’s male. In fact, he feels very familiar. But it’s like I can’t grasp… I can’t remember where I’ve felt that signature before.”
“That’s incredibly interesting,” Draco mused and turned to Harry. “You’ll tell them?” Harry nodded.
“Wait,” Hermione cried. “No, please. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Why?” Draco asked with narrowed eyes.
She curled in on herself, seeming much smaller. “That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.”
Understanding dawned on him. “This person, you told him of your gift. And he used it against you.” She nodded miserably. “And you feel signatures, not intent, not light and dark, but specific cores.” Another nod. “Well, rest assured, this group won’t be like him. I can promise you that.”
“But nothing else,” she whispered.
He gave her a sad smile. “Don’t worry, pet. By the time you step into the shower, this conversation will have been a distant memory.”
She stifled a sob. “You’ll take it from me.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s part of the experience. It won’t be erased, merely dulled… to the point of a dream perhaps. But you’re secret is safe, Granger. Don’t worry your pretty head about that. You have enough to contend with.”

AN: Here you go guys. I had to hork up a couple of lungs before I could get this one out. I'm not sure I'm liking the day shift anymore. Seems I always get sick on it. Boo hiss. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you guys like it and understand that there is no romance... well, not yet anyway. We'll see. Keep those reviews coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys!!!
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Black Widow