Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

If Only	By : Blankk Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 20372 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money off of it.

Chapter List
- 1-Hotels
- 2-Homewrecker
- 3-Decisions
- 4-Falling
- 5-Grins
- 6-Walls
- 7-Mind
- 5
- 6
- 7
Several uneventful weeks went by and after Draco had found out about the letters he’d been reluctant to take Hermione out on another date where they could be seen. Hermione hadn’t seemed to be too bothered – about the letter or the lack of creativity when it came to their dates. They’d been confined to the small space of her flat and as charming as it was he was getting a bit sick of seeing the same white walls. He hardly slept at Malfoy Manor anymore and he was starting to think about investing in a place of his own. Yes, he technically owned Malfoy Manor due to his father’s rights being stripped away, but the fact was his parents would continue living there for quite some time. He was only there to please his mother, he didn’t want her to feel like he’d abandoned her. Hermione’s assessment of him being a ‘mummy’s boy’ was true, even if she did mean for it to be insulting. He knew there was nothing wrong with adoring his mother, she’d given him his life. She’d given him unconditional love. Through the roughest moments of his life he could always rely on his mother to be there for him. She only ever wanted for him to be happy. He knew of the sacrifice she’d made when she’d lied to the Dark Lord about Potter being dead – at that point her loyalty was to Draco only. For a few years Draco knew that his mother despised his father for what he’d put them through and yet somehow she’d managed to forgive him. He would never understand. He understood forgiveness, but he couldn’t understand how his mother could forgive Lucius for all his abhorrent actions and decisions. His father almost got them killed for Merlin’s sake.
He was a spitting image of his father, but he’d be damned if he ever made the same mistakes as Lucius. Draco kept his hair short enough so people wouldn’t mistake him for his father. Not that he ventured outside very often, he was stuck in his office being driven mad by licencing and regulation issues. People hardly paid him any attention, mind you. Unless he was at a fundraising event that he wasn’t expected to attend. The look on people’s faces when he’d shown up to the Magical Diseases and Maladies fundraiser held by the Magic of Ministry had been priceless. Hermione had been there, standing close to the bar trying to stay unnoticed. He almost didn’t recognise her because her hair was straightened out and she was wearing a form fitting dress. Her face was glamoured to mess with her features, but he knew it was her because of the way her brow was wrinkled. She was annoyed. He tipped his head in acknowledgement when she caught him staring and she raised her champagne glass in response before disappearing behind the crowd. Draco knew that some of the stares he got stemmed from the rumours about his father being ill with a magical disease. It wasn’t true, Lucius Malfoy was just a recluse. He didn’t seem to care about the world around him and if Draco was honest he wouldn’t either if he had the rights of a child. His father didn’t have anything anymore, the funds in Gringotts weren’t his even if he’d deluded himself into thinking they were. In Draco’s opinion his father had gotten exactly what he deserved, he was lucky that he hadn’t been given the Dementor’s Kiss like his dear friend Nott. Draco could acknowledge that his father had given up valuable information to avoid being sent to Azkaban, but only after the Ministry had been able to prove that Lucius wasn’t under the Imperius. The reality was that his father was a coward and Draco would do well not to follow in his footsteps.
On one of the glazed pages in front of him he glanced at a dark red bricked cottage surrounded by greenery and a small moat Maybe he could make use of one of their cottages in Lincolnshire. He’d forgotten about it until now as he flipped through a generic country home magazine Tilda had accidentally left on his desk with a few envelopes. He hadn’t been to that cottage since he was a child, his mother used to love taking him there to view the lush and colourful countryside. There was a chance that his mother used a stasis charm to preserve the cottage – she always did with the houses she loved the most. The ones she didn’t perform a stasis charm on were eventually managed by the house-elves. It didn’t matter either way, if it was decrepit he still had his magic to restore it to its former glory. He didn’t think Hermione would mind the change of location, she would most likely roll her eyes at the size of the cottage. She wasn’t one for opulent living, he thought the cottage was quite modest in comparison to the Manor. Hermione would be more inclined to disagree considering how tiny her flat was. One thing he wouldn’t understand is how a person could live life in such a frugal manner. Hermione Granger obviously had the money to buy a house if she wanted to. Hell, she could’ve purchased a penthouse in the middle of London and she’d still be living quite comfortably. When they had been locked out of Gringotts it was a decidedly negative experience. His mother had kept a large portion of money to ensure that they weren’t completely destitute, but it was the first time they’d been on a ‘budget’. Draco would be the first to admit that he lived a privileged life and he wasn’t ashamed to acknowledge that he’d been spoilt his entire life. One thing he didn’t appreciate was being called greedy and regardless of his funds being garnished for reparations he still would’ve felt inclined to donate money to places like St. Mungo’s. He had enough money to donate and continue living comfortably for the rest of his life. Anyone who said that they didn’t love having access to money was a liar. No, money could never literally buy you happiness, but it could make your life easier. A lot easier. His father’s problem was that he was greedy, he wanted money just for the sake of having money. The only time Lucius Malfoy donated money was when he knew he’d be getting something in return.
As he sorted through the small pile of envelopes he caught sight of his mother’s elegant penmanship. He sighed. His mother had sent him a letter for each day that he hadn’t spent at home. Attached with those letters were a few chocolate ganache petit fours. He’d tried to hide the tiny boxes until Hermione had managed to accept a letter while he was asleep in her bed – he’d woken up to find her cross legged on the couch sucking chocolate off her fingers with a pastel blue box settled in between her thighs. He’d groaned and snatched the letter away from her before she could make a comment. Although the look on her face had said enough. Today Draco was going to make an effort to see his mother and set a few boundaries. It wasn’t like he was the same young child who needed reassurance at Hogwarts and a small part of him knew that his mother was trying to make up for lost time. Of course his mother would set up an afternoon luncheon to try and extract whatever details she could from his life. He knew that she’d have the tiered stand placed beside him in an effort to loosen his tongue with a various selection of petit fours. He rubbed his eyes before he wrote a quick note to accept his mother’s invitation, it wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter anyway.
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Draco was early and as he’d known his mother already had those bloody petit fours out on a small and round white table. Of course he was to take a seat beside the tiered porcelain stand and wait patiently for his mother. He studied the large drawing room and noticed that his mother had changed the drapery for the floor length windows – they matched the floral seafoam wallpaper now. The furniture was the same, a pastel pink couch with a pair of armchairs in the same colour and chestnut end tables flanked on each side of the couch. The chandelier was the first thing that caught your attention if you weren’t already scrutinizing the immense size of the marble fireplace. He couldn’t blame his mother for indulging in the regency style chandelier, it looked like there were crystals floating in the air. It made the gold detailing along the edge of the ceiling and around the door glitter softly each time you made a small movement. Currently he was trying to settle down in one of the uncomfortable silk upholstered chairs that had been set out by the house-elves. Draco eyed one of the strawberry tarts and felt his mouth twitch. The strawberries were meticulously placed on the tart to give the effect of a swirl and he could tell that the crust was firm enough to handle a bite without crumbling in his hand. He was in the middle of taking a bite when his mother finally made an appearance. She seemed to float into the room with her pale purple robes swishing behind her. Her blue eyes were bright, her blonde wispy hair was pulled back into a braid and a smile was plastered onto her face when she saw him sitting at the edge of the room. His mother looked so happy he almost forgot to savour the decadence of the vanilla bean custard that had exploded in his mouth. Almost.
‘Oh, Draco,’ she started, gathering the excess of her robes so she could be seated. A few serving platters full of an assortment of finger sandwiches, scones and pastries appeared as she sat down. She snapped her fingers and a pot of tea revealed itself on the table. ‘You do know how gauche it is to start without your host.’
‘I live here too, mother,’ he replied, rubbing his fingers together to rid himself of a few remaining crumbs.
‘You wouldn’t know it with your behaviour as of late,’ she said, a perfectly arched brow rose.
Draco stopped himself from snorting. ‘I’m an adult, you know.’
‘By the state of your…neck, I’m quite aware of your adult activities.’
‘Mother, please,’ he pleaded, adjusting the collar of his shirt to try to hide the purplish-red mark.
‘Don’t ‘Mother, please’ me, Draco Malfoy,’ she lilted. ‘I didn’t raise a heathen, you could have at least had the sense to invite Miss Granger.’
‘Moth-’
‘It’s rude.’
‘It’s-’
‘It’s rude,’ she repeated, pouring some hot tea into his cup. ‘My own son, acting as though he was raised as a commoner.’
Draco cleared his throat. ‘If I could have a say in this-’
‘Dear, have a sandwich,’ she interrupted once again, placing a small white rectangular crustless sandwich onto his plate. ‘You’re looking quite gaunt.’
Draco groaned. He wondered if all mothers acted this way or if he was the only one to be cursed with an overbearing mother. Merlin, he loved the woman to death, he really did, but when she was in the mood to prove a point you’d never hear the end of it.
‘Are you afraid that I will dislike Miss Granger, Draco?’ she asked, spreading some clotted cream onto a scone. ‘I will tell you one thing, you should be honoured to be in the presence of such a bright woman. She reminds me a bit of myself.’
Draco choked on the bit of bread he was chewing on. ‘Mother, are you feeling quite alright?’
‘You always did have some trouble chewing your food properly. It’s smoked salmon, it can be a bit chewy.’
‘I don’t want to scare, Hermione,’ he said, ignoring her comment. ‘You are aware that the last time she was on our property she was tortured by Bellatrix.’
‘Of course I am aware, Draco,’ she sniffed. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday.’
‘Hence my hesitation,’ he stated. ‘And the small detail that is father.’
His mother paused for a moment and set her tea cup down. ‘He won’t be involved.’
‘I know.’
‘No one will be harmed.’
Draco scoffed. ‘I’m not so sure about that.’
‘Draco, your father would never take away my happiness.’
‘Oh, come on, Moth-’
‘He has made his mistakes,’ she said sternly. ‘And he will not repeat them for as long as we are living.’
‘You don’t have to defend him,’ Draco muttered.
‘There is nothing to defend, I’m merely stating the truth. All I want is for my only son to have a chance at true happiness. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.’
Draco’s arm stretched out to clasp his mother’s small hand in his. ‘I know.’
Narcissa smiled at him, patting his hand softly. ‘You’re happy.’
Draco nodded. ‘I am.’
‘Now, tell me. Which house will you be moving into?’
‘Wha-’
‘I know everything,’ she said looking at him expectantly. ‘And don’t say that you’ve chosen that dreadful shed in Norfolk.’
‘Norfolk?’ he questioned in confusion. ‘No.’
‘Good,’ she beamed. ‘It only has three ensuite bathrooms, it’s useless for you. I don’t know why we have it.’
‘Mother, that’s hardly a shed.’
Narcissa’s eyes widened slightly. ‘It’s a shed for me. Is that what you want? To live in such an unsuitable house in the countryside?’
‘I was thinking about that one cottage in Lincolnshire.’
‘Yes,’ she cooed. ‘I was hoping you would say that. You loved it there as a child.’
‘I did.’
‘The cottage is in good condition, it has been preserved accordingly.’
Draco nodded. He’d expected her to ensure there wouldn’t be any deterioration on the property, she’d loved that cottage as much as he did. What he didn’t expect was the sheer nonchalance in his mother’s voice. She was relaxed as she finished her tea, that much he could tell. He’d been expecting her to be a little upset about the topic altogether, she was the one who pushed for him to stay at the Manor in the past.
‘What is it? Have I said something?’ she asked.
‘No, you haven’t. I’m just…surprised I suppose.’
‘It often takes very much to surprise you.’
‘It does, but – are you not upset?’
Narcissa frowned at this. ‘Upset?’
‘I’m leaving.’
‘Yes, well, between the time you spend in the office and at Miss Granger’s flat, which I must say is unsightly, I haven’t seen much of you have I?’
Draco made a slight noise in agreement as he polished off his smoked salmon sandwich, taking his time to chew it carefully. If his mother thought a house was a shed because it only had three ensuite bathrooms then Hermione’s flat would be considered an outhouse. What would he do with three ensuite bathrooms anyway if he was only going to be using one? Narcissa had no trouble living lavishly.
‘You will introduce me to Miss Granger properly.’
Draco sighed and then nodded. ‘I will set up the time and date.’
The corners of Narcissa’s eyes wrinkled. He knew that look. He waited for that sickly sweet tone of hers to appear.
‘Darling, perhaps –’
‘Please,’ Draco said. ‘Just allow me this one small moment of control. Please, mother.’
‘Fine,’ Narcissa conceded, adjusting the napkin on her lap. ‘All I ask is that you choose the appropriate venue.’
‘Of course.’
‘Good,’ she smiled. ‘Then that’s settled.’
The rest of the conversation pertained to gossip that Draco couldn’t have cared less about. He really didn’t want to hear about the latest engagement that had been announced within upper class society. He didn’t even know who Valérie Cousineau was even though his mother insisted that they’d been playmates as children. She certainly hadn’t gone to Hogwarts and his mother went on about how she’d attended Beauxbatons. She even went as far to admit that she’d wanted Draco to go Beauxbatons only for the idea to be declined quite harshly by his father. Narcissa had continued on about the benefits of the French language and how he’d been robbed of an exceptional education.
‘You can blame that on your father,’ she added airily before changing the subject once more.
The list of offences committed by his father never seemed to stop growing. At this point in his life he knew that it would become a never ending list. He thought briefly of the time when he’d idolised his father and scolded himself constantly for not being more like him. The moment when he’d been faced with the task to kill Dumbledore he knew that he could never be like his father. Holding out his wand, pointing it at Dumbledore and looking right into those twinkling blue eyes of his made it even clearer that he could never be Lucius Malfoy. The thought of killing anyone made him sick. How his father could do such a thing without a second thought made him worthless. Draco hadn’t seen his father at the Manor even though he had to be lurking about somewhere. His mother gave him a hug and a kiss like she always did and happily gave him another box of petit fours before he disapparated. Draco ended up in Hermione’s living room and he set the box down on Hermione’s coffee table. He removed his robes and toed off his shoes to lie down on the couch. He wondered what Hermione was doing. She would be closing up the bookshop soon if it wasn’t too busy and he wasn’t in the mood to bump into her colleague Tina or something or other again. The last time had been a mistake and Hermione seemed to enjoy watching Tina blatantly hitting on Draco. She kept touching his sides and if he hadn’t put more space between them he was sure her hands with those very long fingernails would’ve found their way to his crotch. Hermione explained that she was ‘a bit of a chav’ whatever that meant, but maybe that was why he’d had trouble understanding the words coming out of her mouth. Muggles could be so odd.
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Hermione was greeted by the sight of Draco sleeping soundly on her couch, she was careful not to wake him trying to walk without making a sound. She was tired, more than usual and it had to do with the sale they’d had at the bookshop for the past few days. As much as she loved to help people find books to purchase, she didn’t exactly enjoy being yelled at for particular books being regular price. She didn’t own the company, why would she be in charge of the pricing? And of course she couldn’t say those words to a customer. She’d bitten down on her tongue multiple times to stop herself from cursing at them. By the time her break had come around she’d wanted to come straight home and go to sleep. Sod it all. She hadn’t of course and she’d been the one to close up much later than expected. She wasn’t in the mood to make herself dinner even though she was starving – half of a croissant wasn’t much of a lunch. She decided on taking a shower to relax, it was times like these when she wished she had the luxury of a proper bathtub. The lighting in the bathroom was horrifying. Standing in front of the mirror she tugged at the skin on her face in an effort to stop the circles under her eyes from looking so sunken. Her hand ran across the top of her head and pulled a hair tie out, her hair was rough and frizzy. How was it possible to have such frizzy hair when it was in a goddamn ponytail? She sighed and turned the shower on. She peeled her clothes off quickly and tossed them into a laundry bin that she’d taken from her parent’s attic. As soon as the spray of hot water hit her skin she sighed in relief, rubbing the back of her neck to soothe some of the tension. She stood there for a few minutes with the water running its way from her scalp all the way down to her toes. She watched the condensation collect on the glass surrounding her. She heard shuffling, but she couldn’t see through the steam. She tried to rub some of it off the glass, but that only caused it to be covered by large water droplets. She could make out the shape of a figure standing in the middle of the bathroom.
‘You’re late,’ Draco’s voice rang out, a little muffled by the shower.
‘That sodding sale isn’t over yet,’ she grumbled. ‘Those people just about drove me mad.’
The shower door opened letting in some cool air, goose pimples rose along her arms and thighs.
‘And you’re about to drive me mad too,’ she burst out. ‘Shut the door!’
His eyebrows rose as he stepped into the shower and closed the door. She shook her head and squeezed water out of her hair.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve just been a bit stressed today.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Turn around.’
Hermione acquiesced. He pushed her hair to the side, his hand slid down the back of her neck. His hands placed themselves on her shoulders and his thumbs started pressing into the tight muscles. She tensed and hissed at the pressure, a sharp pain making itself known as he continued to knead. His fingers eased up, gently pulling at the skin and Hermione groaned softly. It felt so good to have her shoulders massaged this way, tiny circles running their way along her neck. Draco went on for a few more minutes until she felt herself relax, the stiffness in her back disappeared. He seemed to notice when he stopped and kissed her shoulder.
‘Thank you. That was lovely,’ she said, turning to face him.
‘You learn a thing or two when you injure yourself playing Quidditch.’
‘I would hope so,’ she remarked, thinking of the numerous injuries Harry and Ron had received due to Quidditch. Practices and matches alike.
Hermione ran a bar of soap along Draco’s torso, starting from his chest down to his abdomen. His skin funnily enough was almost the same shade of the soap collecting on his skin. She could see the green tinted veins underneath his skin. Her hands smoothed the soap suds around concealing those veins, his lean body was hard under her touch which was the opposite of what hers felt like. Draco drew some extra suds from his chest and lathered it along his arms.
‘I saw my mother today.’
‘Did you?’ she murmured, tiptoeing to rub some soap onto his neck.
‘She wants to meet you.’
Hermione paused, her eyes connecting with his. ‘She…are you sure?’
Draco smirked. ‘She was quite explicit with her request.’
‘I-I…what do I do?’
‘Definitely not that,’ he scoffed, his hands spreading soap along her back, pausing at the curve of her lower back.
‘Draco, that’s not helping.’
‘Be yourself.’
She scowled. ‘That’s really not helping.’
‘I’m being serious,’ he replied, pulling her close. ‘She’s not expecting a high society twat, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘And you’re sure?’ she asked, looking up at him with her brows furrowed in scepticism.
‘I’m sure,’ he said seriously. ‘I wouldn’t lie to you about this.’
‘But you’d lie to me about other things?’ she questioned jokingly.
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. ‘My mother just wants to meet the person who is making her son happy.’
‘Did you tell her that I make you happy?’
‘She doesn’t need to be told much, she’s very intuitive.’
Hermione hummed in response, pouring cinnamon scented shampoo into the palm of her hand and running it through her tresses. ‘Will it be at the Manor?’
‘It won’t.’
That was a curious response. She would expect Narcissa Malfoy to invite her to Malfoy Manor – she’d heard about the small events Narcissa held there sometimes, Lucius Malfoy never appeared of course. She wondered if the Manor looked the same as it did the last time she’d been there. From what she recalled, which wasn’t much because she’d pushed the memory from her mind, it had been quite dark and drab. It was very cold and it wasn’t just because of the draft. She remembered the stacked portraits that had been set aside in the corner by a fireplace. She remembered because it had been in her line of vision as Bellatrix had held her down. Draco’s fingers massaged her scalp, his fingers tenderly rinsing out the last remnants of the shampoo. His arm reached behind her to turn the shower off and he opened the door letting her out first. Hermione used a drying charm on her hair and handed a towel to Draco. It was kind of nice to be familiar this way, she never really indulged in taking showers with a boyfriend until recently. And at least she didn’t feel embarrassed about her nudity in the present moment, but she was sure Draco would do something to make her blush. He was very quick to dry off, not bothering to wrap the towel around himself and leaving himself completely bare. She tried not to look below the thatch of wiry dark blond hair, but she did anyway, taking a small glance – he was flaccid. Not that she was expecting him to be hard, it wasn’t exactly sexy when she looked like a banshee currently.
‘You’re allowed to look, Hermione.’
His grey eyes were unreadable as she nodded, turning and willing herself not to flush. Why was she embarrassed? This didn’t have to be an embarrassing moment. Not if she stopped thinking about it so much. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt his arms coming to wrap themselves around her.
‘I look all the time,’ he whispered into her hair.
Hermione swallowed, her voice seeming to stick in her throat. Or maybe she just couldn’t find a proper response because she didn’t know what to say to that. She knew he looked, stared even, but it was always strange to know that a person could be that interested in her body. No one had ever voiced their interest the way Draco Malfoy did. The way he spoke about her was usually flattering. Superficiality aside he’d been very honest about his feelings concerning her, even sharing why exactly he was interested in the first place. He’d spent more time with her and even when they weren’t doing anything of consequence she found herself feeling quite happy. It was good to know that having silent moments didn’t lead to awkwardness where she had to try to fill it with nonsensical conversation. She was happy right now and it felt like it’d been such a long time since she’d felt so…light. He turned her around slowly, her back making contact with the cold door. She shivered and his hands rubbed her arms.
‘Sometimes you think far too much,’ he stated.
‘I know,’ she agreed.
‘I thought about you today when I was at the office,’ he mentioned, his hands gently switched from her forearm to her waist, moving slowly stopping right under the curve of her breasts. ‘How much I wanted to have you bare like this.’
Hermione was silent. Those grey eyes pierced hers as his thumb brushed her puckered pink nipple. He was gauging her response, she knew. Trying to find that particular spot that would leave her breathless. She didn’t notice that she’d been biting down on her lip until it felt like her teeth had pierced through the skin. He bent his head and caught her nipple between his lips, rolling it in his mouth. She shuddered, trying to control the reaction her body was having. Those small tugs shooting sparks down the centre of her body.
‘Sitting on my desk, leaning back on your elbows with your pretty legs wide open,’ he muttered into her skin, his hand coming to pinch her other breast. ‘Have you ever been fucked on a desk, Hermione?’
She breathed in deeply. There were only a few times she’d been fucked outside of the bedroom and they all involved Draco. She shook her head quickly.
‘Yes or no.’
‘No,’ she whispered without meaning to. Where the hell was her voice?
‘We’ll have to rectify that,’ he said, licking both her nipples messily one last time.
The look in his eyes made it seem as though he was about to devour her, her pulse rate started to increase. He stared for a few more seconds until he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in and then his tongue darted out to taste her skin. His lips were against her neck now, suckling gently without making any marks. Her eyes shut and her breath hitched. Each suck sent a small tingle to her lower stomach and she let out a small puff of air. He was pressing up against her, his body firm on hers and she could feel his erection hardening the more he crushed himself to her. His hand had reached down to grip onto her bottom, pulling her lower half towards him. She knew that it would only be a few minutes until her wetness would start to collect in between her thighs. She was tense and her legs were trembling, but Draco kept himself stuck to her neck, his breath was so hot on her skin. Hermione’s hand made its way in between their bodies, grabbing hold of his length and squeezing. He groaned into her skin, the vibrations were caught on her neck. She stroked the soft skin gently, his hips snapping forward as her hand slid downwards. Draco looked down. She followed his gaze, his eyes fixated on her hand jerking him off. She had to admit that it was an erotic sight. Her hand wrapped around him, bringing him pleasure, causing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten and his chest rising and falling unevenly. And then he gripped her wrist to stop her from continuing.
‘You really are a minx,’ he managed to grunt out, his palm pressed onto the door on the side of her head.
Hermione pouted as she looked up at him, letting go of his cock and taking her thumb into her mouth to suck off the fluids that had collected there. She moaned lightly, the salty bitterness was on her tongue. His jaw tightened and he growled. His eyes were dilated now, a small rim of grey surrounding his dark pupils. He was so still, but the veins in his neck were protruding slightly and his shoulders were stiff. She could hear his nails on the door, a small scratching noise as he clenched and unclenched his fist. He seemed to be restraining himself, his breaths short and his cheeks tinged pink. It happened in slow motion when her hand rose to touch his chest, his reflexes were fast and he held onto both of her wrists pinning them above her. His lips were crushed to hers and he bit down on her plump bottom lip, she gasped as the familiar metallic taste flooded into her mouth with his tongue. She couldn’t move in the position she was in with his legs holding her thighs shut, her hips tried to angle themselves in his direction. Hermione couldn’t breathe as he kissed her deeply, making it hard for her to do much else but accept the aggressive kisses mashing against her lips. He kissed her hard enough that she knew her lips would be as red as strawberries. He was being rough, his hands were tight around her wrists, but she didn’t care even if there would be bruising in a few hours. She moaned, but the noise was softened by Draco’s mouth. And then he stopped. His chest was heaving, his breath mingling with her own and his forehead coming to press against hers. She could feel the thin sheen of perspiration mixing together, a droplet sliding down the side of her face. Her body was practically vibrating now, her thighs felt sweaty and she knew that she had to be dripping.
‘Turn around,’ he spoke gruffly, letting go of her wrists and taking a step backwards.
Her feet felt numb, her legs shaking as she was finally able to separate them. She turned without glancing at Draco and was met with the sight of the white wooden door, the bare towel hooks shining in the light. She leant her body into the door, her hands hanging by her sides before coming to press themselves beside her head. She waited and nothing happened. She couldn’t hear anything. Her cheek made contact with the door when she tried to turn her head to look at him.
‘Don’t.’
Hermione froze.
‘Push your arse out.’
She swallowed before curving her back out, her stomach lifting away from the surface of the smooth wood. She heard a soft groan then and she wished he could see him. It was so nerve wracking to stand here with her bum on display when she knew he was watching.
‘I want you to beg me to fuck you.’
Hermione shut her eyes and bit down on her lips. She really hated when he did this. Why couldn’t he just take her? He knew she wanted him.
‘Draco,’ she started quietly. ‘I-I…please don’t make me do this.’
Draco didn’t respond. His hand smoothed down her back and then he pulled it away, his hand coming down hard on her ass. A loud smack rang out in the bathroom. Her body pushing painfully into the hard surface in front of her. She bit down on her lips even harder, gulping down the scream she knew she was about to let out. Instead it was strangled in her throat. As painful as it was there was a soft throbbing in between her legs. She had to be sick.
‘Draco,’ she tried to start again, her throat was tight now. ‘Please…take me.’
Another smack rang out, the noise was ringing in her ear. She let out a shrill noise involuntarily and held her breath, the burn seeping its way into her skin.
‘You need to speak up, Hermione,’ he said, his voice sounding closer than it was before. ‘I didn’t tell you to beg me to take you.’
‘Please,’ she choked out, trying to raise her voice and failing. ‘Please, fuck me.’
His hand was running down her back again and she shuddered. She tensed when it was pulled away once more.
‘No, please,’ she begged, her hips moving forward in an attempt to stop herself from getting spanked again. ‘I need a few seconds.’
Instead his hand slid to soothe the pain. She expected it to be an angry red colour and it stung each time his fingers made contact with her skin. He was pressing into her now, his cock wedged in between the globes of her bum. His hand came around to run its way down her abdomen and into the coarse trimmed hair between her legs. His other hand was kneading her breast and she felt like her legs were going to buckle, too much was happening.
‘Time is up,’ he breathed into her ear, grinding himself against her with his fingers seeking out that small bundle of nerves. She gasped when he started rubbing her, his fingers sliding around with ease because of how wet she was. Her leg was twitching already, her nails were trying to dig into the door to no avail. Draco stopped.
‘Please,’ Hermione said as she cleared her throat and tried to relax. ‘Fuck me.’
‘Much better.’
Those were the last words she heard as he slid his way into her without warning, her sleeve gripping at his length as he pressed into her. She couldn’t stop her walls from contracting as he held himself in place for a few minutes groaning loudly. She choked on her own moan, pushing her ass into him, pulling him deeper. She keened as he pulled out slowly, only for Draco to thrust back into her savagely hitting bottom. Her hair was wrapped around his hand, her head being tugged back as he nibbled roughly on her neck and she cried out. She was throbbing so badly, he was bumping into her g-spot perfectly and she jerked each time he did. She was on her tiptoes as he fucked her from behind, clapping noises echoing in the bathroom. The hinges on the door were creaking absorbing the shock as he thrust back into her. She was only focused on how he was making her feel. Flames felt like they were trickling down her body to meet in the centre of her pussy. She was shuddering violently as his thickness penetrated her. She didn’t know if she was breathing anymore, she was so lightheaded and her muscles were so strained. She was too hot. Her legs were shaking and struggling to hold her on the tips of her toes. Hermione could hear a loud moan, but she couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. She was vaguely aware that he was hissing some obscenities as he fucked her against the door, his hand letting go of her hair coming up to squeeze her breast and pull on the nipple. Her forehead was digging into the wood now, slightly slick with sweat and she could feel her warm breath as the door blocked it from escaping. She heard herself moan loudly. And then there it was, a few more thrusts into her willing body had her orgasming in an instant. Her cunt clenched around Draco’s cock tightly, pushing him out and her body shook. Hermione quite literally started seeing stars, blacking out and crumpling as her muscles slackened.
A minute or two later Hermione woke up on a cushy surface alone. She sat up confused, patting the duvet under her. From what she could recall the last memory she was aware of was being in the bathroom with Draco? She was just in the bathroom with Draco unless – oh Gods…did she pass out? She could remember being up against the door. She remembered coming. As if on cue Draco walked in with a sly smirk on his face, Hermione reddened and her hands immediately came up to cover her face.
‘I can’t say I’ve ever done that before.’
Well, there was her confirmation. He seriously knew how to embarrass a person. It wasn’t as though she passed out during a round of sex regularly. Merlin, that had been the first and hopefully the last. Maybe she really had stopped breathing. Draco was quick to get on top of her and she was suddenly aware that he hadn’t finished when his erection bumped into her stomach.
‘You didn’t…?’
‘It’s quite a shock when the woman you’ve been so focused on fucking has an orgasm only to topple over on the floor,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘I’m not a degenerate.’
She shut her eyes. ‘Please, don’t repeat that. It’s embarrassing.’
‘It’s not,’ he stated reassuringly, cupping her face.
He pressed a few kisses along her cheek before capturing her lips, softly sucking on them. Her hand slid down his back to squeeze his firm buttock. She could feel his lips curving up into a smile and he broke the kiss. She stared up at him and pushed his hair away from his forehead. He rose then, sitting on his heels between her legs. She knew the flesh of her vulva had to be a dark pink and she could still feel the slickness there. Draco seemed to change his mind as he crawled toward her, placing one of her legs on his shoulders and pulling her close. He rubbed the head of his cock first, spreading some of Hermione’s wetness onto himself. She watched him sink into her, she exhaled and his lips puckered along the soft tanned skin of her calf as he growled. Her eyes drifted shut as he wound his hips into her, using calculated thrusts to elicit the exact reaction he wanted from her. Her breath got caught in her throat as he changed his movements, thrusting into her brutally, her breasts moving vigorously.
‘Look at me.’
And she did. Her eyes fluttering open to find his. His mouth was open, hard breaths escaping from those swollen lips of his. She could look at him in this way and never get tired of it she realised. The small wrinkling of his brow, the slackened jaw, the sweat collecting on his chest. He looked like he was in another world and she supposed he was because she was as well. She felt like an entirely separate being whenever she was having sex with him. It was…extraordinary to have a person control your body in the way he did – he seemed to know everything about what would set her off. She was sure his hips would shift soon so that he could push her over the edge once more. It was Hermione’s turn to groan as he started to plunge into her deeper, pushing her other leg to spread her wide open. Her eyes stayed open, but they were unfocused as she gazed up at his form plunging into her and squelching noises floated around in her bedroom. Her muscles were going rigid the longer he pounded into her. He held her leg tight so that it couldn’t jerk out of his grip and she could feel the rush of heat that made her toes curl. Her stomach tightened and finally she jolted and shuddered beneath him for the second time that night. A pathetic cry fell from her lips as she broke apart and fought to catch her breath. Her walls were convulsing around him. Sucking and tightening, trying to bring him over the edge with her. He kept going until the clenching stopped and he roared, his fingers digging into her skin as he gave her a few final rough thrusts that pushed her into the headboard.
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The next morning Hermione found it hard to wake up, every muscle in her body was sore. She groaned to herself when she finally swung her feet over the bed, she turned and saw Malfoy was still asleep. She inspected her body and saw the bruises she’d expected. Her wrists weren’t so bad, they was a pink ring around each of them and that would be easy to glamour. Her thighs were riddled with purplish marks and for some reason there was bruising on her chest underneath her collarbone. She definitely needed to invest in a bath someday. There wasn’t enough space to transfigure one in her bathroom. If she’d been desperate enough for one she would just take a bath in the living room. At least then she’d be able to watch some telly. Her feet made contact with the floor and she tried to stand. The strain in her legs wasn’t so severe that she couldn’t walk, but it was painful enough for her to curse the burn that would probably take a day or two to finally go away. When she was finally a few steps away from the bathroom she heard something crash in the living room.
‘Hey, Hermione.’
Hermione swore under her breath. It was Ginny. She still hadn’t gotten around to changing to wards and now she was going to suffer for it. Hermione grabbed a robe from her bathroom quickly wrapping it around herself. She tugged the sleeves down to hide the marks on her wrists.
‘Just a second, Ginny,’ she called out. ‘Just – just wait for me in there. I’m not decent.’
She heard Ginny snort. She went into her bedroom to find Draco sound asleep, he was a bit of a light sleeper she was surprised that the crashing noise hadn’t woken him. She scurried over to him and shook his shoulder, his eyes scrunched as he woke up.
‘Wha –’
Hermione’s hand clamped over his mouth. ‘I’m sorry, Ginny’s here. So...you’ll have to stay quiet.’
For whatever reason he grinned and then he’d nodded, shrugging his shoulders.
‘What’s the matter, Ginny?’ Hermione said finally appearing. ‘Is it another letter?’
‘No,’ she replied nonchalantly. ‘Just haven’t heard much from you late – Merlin dancing on a bloody cracker!’
‘What?’ Hermione questioned self-consciously, turning to see what was behind her.
‘Are you in a relationship with a vampire?’ Ginny asked as she approached her, her fingers skimming Hermione’s neck. ‘I didn’t think they were your type honestly.’
‘Am I – What?! No!’ Hermione exclaimed, pulling Ginny’s hands away from her. ‘Would you stop that?’
‘You’re telling me that you haven’t noticed those bite marks along your neck?’
Hermione blushed and swore internally. Fucking Draco Malfoy. ‘I’ve just woken up, okay? I haven’t exactly been peering at myself in the mirror all morning. Trust me, you wouldn’t have seen the marks if I’d been primping myself.’
‘Wow,’ Ginny said in awe. ‘I suppose this is why I haven’t heard from you.’
‘Oh, come off it.’
‘You wouldn’t be hearing much from me either if I was looking like that in the morning,’ she retorted.
‘Oh, Gods,’ Hermione muttered under her breath. She didn’t exactly want to imagine Ginny and Harry going at it.
‘Is he here then?’
‘Ginny, please.’
‘He’s here isn’t he?’ Ginny whispered, her light brown eyes sparkling in amusement.
‘Ginny, before you ask the answer is no.’
‘Come on, Hermione,’ she begged, her hands clasped together. ‘It won’t hurt.’
‘It’ll hurt when I hex you,’ Hermione declared, folding her arms.
Ginny giggled, her eyebrows raised. ‘So I suppose you’re into bondage too?’
‘I –’ Hermione began, following Ginny’s gaze. One of her sleeves had risen. Her arms were down at her sides immediately, tugging down on those useless sleeves. ‘No. No more questions.’
‘Hermione,’ Ginny whined. ‘You’re no fun at all.’
‘It was nice to see you Ginny, please tell your mum and dad that I said hello,’ Hermione said, giving Ginny a quick hug with a pat on the back. ‘Oh, and Harry too.’
‘I don’t have to leave you know.’
‘But you will.’
Ginny smiled. ‘Enjoy being tied up, Hermione.’
The familiar crack of disapparation echoed in her flat. Hermione fell over onto the couch, her face buried in the cushion. She cursed Draco, she cursed Ginny and then she cursed herself. A small high pitched scream was muffled as she let out her embarrassment. Or perhaps it was frustration. Or both. She should’ve known that something was wrong when Draco had that stupid smile plastered onto his face.
‘You’re a piece of work, you know,’ Hermione muttered, walking into her bedroom. ‘You could’ve at least glamoured them for me.’
‘And risk the entertainment?’ he questioned in amusement.
‘Entertaining for you,’ she stated. ‘Embarrassing for me.’
‘Everything is embarrassing for you.’
She slapped his arm. ‘Not everything. Just some things.’
‘So essentially everything.’
She glared at him. ‘That’s easy for you to say. You’re never embarrassed.’
‘I just don’t care,’ he said.
Hermione snorted, but she didn’t respond. Usually Draco would be dressed by now, but she supposed that it was his weekend off. He searched her eyes for a moment before speaking.
‘I’m moving.’
Hermione shook her head in confusion. ‘What? Since when?’
‘Yesterday.’
He’d never even mentioned that he thought about moving. Not that he had to consult her about it or anything, it was just a little strange that he could make such a decision on a whim.
‘We own different properties,’ Draco clarified when she didn’t respond.
‘Ah,’ Hermione nodded. Of course he had his choice of houses, she should’ve known that.
‘I’ve needed my own place for a while now,’ he began, sitting up. ‘The tension in the house can be unbearable at times. My father lives there and we don’t talk to one another, but my mother forces us to have dinner as a family.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Hermione replied, attempting to sit cross legged and failing horribly.
‘Are you okay?’ Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at the slight whimpering noise she’d made.
‘Muscles are just a little tense.’
He smirked. ‘So I’ve finally worn you out have I?’
‘I’m not worn out,’ she denied, forcing her legs to bend while she clenched her jaw to ignore the burning sensation. ‘See? I’m fine.’
‘I’d really hate to see what you look like when you’re not fine.’
Hermione shot daggers at him as he laughed.
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AN:

Thank you for the ratings and reviews. It’s nice to have people share their thoughts on this story and it really helps a lot to have encouraging words. I’m posting this now because I can’t look at it anymore, I have a quiz and a few assignments to complete this week. I have tons to catch up due to my immune system crapping out on me last week. It sucks being sick! Hope you’re all well.
x
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