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Peace in the Darkness	By : UpTheHill Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 19332 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own any of the characters nor the setting from the Harry Potter world. There are plot details that are not mine either. I make no profit out of this story in any way as I am writing for my personal enjoyment.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 6: Draco Malfoy
Stress and pressure were really starting to affect Draco’s health; He couldn’t eat much, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t concentrate. He kept scolding himself for being so weak and hopeless, unable to do the one single thing The Lord trusted him with. Draco’s plan was clever; everyone long forgot about the Vanishing Cabinet hidden in the Room of Requirement. All he needed was to fix it. Unfortunately, the task wasn’t going too well so far.
The holidays were terrible. Draco didn’t meet with Lord Voldemort, but he often had to deal with the presence of his aunt Bellatrix, who kept questioning Draco about his plans on killing Albus Dumbledore and treating him like a stupid baby. Malfoy tried remaining calm and confident, but the storm in his mind and body was no joke.
Despite the fact that Draco’s mother was a strong woman, who helped him with everything and always stood behind his back, she seemed to be slowly falling apart. Draco’s father, Lucius Malfoy, was locked in Azkaban, and Narcissa was feeling scared and lonely. Once in a while she hid in her bedroom away from everyone, crying, and Draco stood pressed against the door, listening and gulping along with his mother’s sobs.
So the atmosphere was depressing. Draco hasn’t progressed much with his mission and he was trying to figure out another way to kill the Hogwarts’ headmaster, but everything felt so disorganized, so hopeless… Draco wanted his father back, he wanted to see his family whole and well again, but he had this problem of just… well, not being evil enough. He tried very hard, every day he remembered everyone he despised to enhance his anger and determination, but the misery was there to stay.
One of the very few things that kept him breathing was the existence of one bushy-headed Gryffindor, who didn’t seem to be shaking in her shoes when in Draco’s presence. Well, at least not out of fright. The girl willingly submitted herself to the Slytherin’s control and relied on him, at least that’s what he figured.
She was fragile but passionate, and Draco couldn’t suppress the hunger to see and taste more of Hermione Granger. It all happened very unexpectedly; one moment all he saw in her was the muddy blood and foolish eagerness to act the smartest, and suddenly she became this unexplored, beautiful land that tickled the bottom of his heart, and somewhere else, too.
He didn’t intend it all to happen. He didn’t intend at all. Draco tried keeping his distance from the girl, but it just didn’t seem to work. The more he waited, the bigger his affection grew, until he became eager to know what was happening in Hermione’s life and whether she was feeling okay. And then the kiss happened, and then she caught him crying… that night in the bathroom he felt so vulnerable and pathetic, but he couldn’t throw Hermione out. She was being gentle and understanding, gazing at him with a glowing concerned look, and it was making Draco feel better. A lot better, actually; nothing made him forget the mess he was in more than Hermione, who willingly stroked his back and moaned when he touched her. He would have humped the girl right there against the wall as he desired to, but perhaps he cared for Hermione more than he thought was possible. And it was a big fat ugly problem. If the Dark Lord finds out, the Malfoys are done, Draco was sure.
And now the classes have started and Draco was aware of Hermione trying to catch his sight, figuring out when and where was the best time to talk to him. Draco was sure Hermione must have made the connection between his anxious questions in the broom closet and the Death Eaters’ attack at the Burrow, and she now must be very eager to talk to Draco, to ask questions. The Slytherin made a very foolish move asking Hermione whether she was staying in London, but at that time, he had just recently found out about the Death Eaters’ plans from his mother and was terrified with the idea of Hermione in the Burrow, so he acted hastily and unwisely.
Everything was so complicated… Draco knew that falling for Hermione will result only in danger and pain. The relationship simply cannot happen. But did Draco feel like he is handling himself well? No. Did Draco try to avoid and forget Hermione? Well, he did, but he could try harder if he wished to keep the girl safe. However, Draco wasn't one of those who easily refused their desires when it is required; he is a person who gives into his pleasures and is blind when it comes to consequences. He does what he wants and then suffers, and this case was no different. It seemed that Draco no longer had the strength and determination to resist his lust, even though it can and most likely will bring danger to them both.
He just felt so peaceful with Hermione. She was his getaway, a shelter to hide in from the stress and the terrifying reality. She calmed him down while at the same time making his heart beat faster. She was just so… delicious. So pleasing and alluring. And he was planning to get back to her.
Potter has been a pain in the arse as well. Draco tried keeping the low profile, but apparently it is exactly what attracted Harry’s attention. He was watching Draco very closely, following his moves, trying to figure out what he had been up to, but it didn't seem like he achieved anything useful. Draco’s secret was safe, but who knows for how long. That’s why Draco was feeling so stressed; he had to kill the headmaster before Potter realizes the truth first.
So much iniquity was in his life. The burden of being a Malfoy and being responsible for his family was crushing him, occasionally to the point he experienced emotional breakdowns. Unable to handle the stress anymore, he sometimes hid in the boy’s bathroom in the sixth floor and cried his eyes out, clutching onto his heaving chest. One time the Moaning Myrtle caught him sobbing and tried to solace him. To Draco’s surprise, it helped, so he kept coming back in times of desperation and Myrtle was waiting for him, ready to say a comforting word. Nevertheless, the reality was harsh and it was only getting worse.
One slightly more positive thing was that Draco had another plan how to complete his mission. His mother helped him plot the procedure and now he had a bottle of poisoned mead ready to be given to Madam Rosmerta, the landlady in Hogsmeade, who, under the Imperius Curse, would give the mead to Slughorn to deliver to Dumbledore as a gift. The plan seemed strong, but not flawless. Who knows what might happen, considering the previous attempt to kill Albus. Slughorn should better not drink that mead himself for his own sake.
And now Draco’s mind was back to the young bushy-haired witch. Draco knew what questions Hermione aspired to ask, the questions that he hoped he would never have to answer to. But he wanted to see the girl, so he wrote her a note telling her where and when they can meet.
Apparently, classroom 7C was rarely locked, Draco made it sure when regularly visiting the Room of Requirement in the seventh floor. He had already been in the classroom the evening he kissed Hermione. It seemed right enough to meet there again.

* * *
It was 8 o’clock. Draco was standing at the window in classroom 7C with his arms behind his back, blankly gazing outside. Only a few candles were lit, so the room was dim and yellowish. Draco was thinking what he would say to Hermione, but wasn’t completely sure how Hermione would treat him, so he just hoped for the best. He hoped for her to understand.
Then he heard the door opening. Draco’s heart began galloping rapidly. He turned his head and saw Hermione coming in. She was still wearing her school uniform without the cloak and holding her briefcase. Hermione noticed Draco look at her bag.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she made an awkward smile and shrugged. “I just came from the library. I almost lost track of time…”
Hermione’s cheeks were flushing pink, either from embarrassment or lying. She moved forward at the teacher’s desk and put her briefcase on it. Draco raised his wand at the door to cast a locking spell on it. Then he put his wand back into his pocket and drew closer to Hermione. Her face wore a look of confusion.
“I know what you’re going to ask me,” said Draco in a calm voice, although it still bore a trace of uneasiness. “I know what you want me to explain. But I also know that you do not want to hear me saying it.”
Hermione made a heavy sigh. They stood in silence for a minute. It was very difficult for Draco, because all he wanted to know was what she thought of him now. Was she angry at him? Did she feel betrayed? Would she back away if he tried to touch her? On the other hand, if Hermione willingly came to meet Draco one on one, does it mean she gets that everything is more complicated than some might think?
“So it’s true,” Hermione finally spoke, “you knew.”
She closed her eyes. Draco saw Hermione’s throat gulp.
“And you—” she began, but was interrupted.
“—I didn’t say anything. Yes.”
Hermione covered her face. She took a deep breath, but the sound of the air entering her nose made it clear she was trembling.
“I just can’t believe it,” she sobbed dry.
Draco’s chest felt heavy. He didn’t want any of this to happen and now he was feeling horrible. Why does he care so much?
“What is wrong with me,” she spoke and looked at Draco again. Hermione was trying to hold back her tears. “I thought I would come here, hear you tell me the truth and realize how wrong everything is, but…”
Draco kept swallowing the knot in his throat, but it was only growing thicker and Draco felt like suffocating.
“You knew the Death Eaters were coming,” she blamed him and firmly clenched her fists, “You know everything. You’re one of them.” Hermione’s face twisted up with fury and misery. “Why didn’t you tell?” she demanded. “Ron’s home was burnt to the ground! And god knows what else could’ve happened. But you could’ve warned! You could’ve helped!”
“Yes, because everything’s very simple!” he snapped sarcastically, taking an aggressive step forward.
“No, but—”
“I could not tell you! Don’t you understand?” Draco scowled. “My father’s in Azkaban, my mother doesn’t stop crying… Do you think I can wander around putting spokes in the Dark Lord’s wheels?! I cannot make such mistakes because they would cost lives!”
“Of course! And letting Voldermort act freely wouldn’t cost any lives and pain at all!” Hermione nearly screamed.
“I’m talking about my family! I’m the only one left to pull it all together! If I had told you about the upcoming attack, do you think no one would have traced the spoiler back?! Do you think the Dark Lord wouldn’t root up me and you?!”
Draco’s nostrils were flaring. He was angry at the circumstances, at the complexity of his situation. He didn’t ask any of this! None of the mess was his fault! All he wished was to keep the people he loved safe. And now this girl he shouldn’t be with was glaring at him with her eyes almost tearing out, and Draco felt guilty for things he didn’t have anything to do with.
“Hermione, you know my hands are cut, so don’t you blame me!”
She put her hands over her face again.
“I know…” she said desperately.
“I don’t have a choice, I don’t have any power over this! The Dark Lord never rests, everyone’s in danger, it’s just that you and I are standing on different yet equally threatened sides!”
“I know, Draco,” Hermione was gasping, “I know…”
Draco fiercely turned away and leaned on the windowsill. He was breathing deeply to get hold of himself, but his blood was boiling and flooding his brain.
It’s so unfair to Draco. He was trapped in Voldemort’s grip; none of his decisions are the right decisions, because somebody always gets hurt no matter what he does. If Draco chose to stop obeying the Dark Lord, he either would be free but with no one to come back to, or he would be merely dead.
Hermione approached him and laid her hot cheek and palms upon his back. Her touch almost made him burst into tears. He forgot that it wasn’t really him who experienced harm, but Hermione’s friends and thus Hermione herself. Draco put his family first while Hermione, a true Gryffindor, didn’t turn her back on his, her enemy’s, suffering. She was one of those who should be protected, but here she stood, consoling and protecting him.
Draco straightened up and faced Hermione. She looked very sad and scared, clinging tightly onto his arms.
He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but all he wanted now was to keep being a selfish bastard and feel satisfied again, at least for a limited time.
Suddenly, Hermione was in Draco’s arms with her lips upon his. He kissed her intensely and passionately, disallowing her to take a single breath in. His tongue was swirling around hers and his arms were squeezing Hermione’s body as if it was the last time. Then he pushed the girl with his own body and made her walk backwards until she bumped into the front of the teacher’s desk. Draco clasped Hermione’s buttocks and hoisted her up on the desk. Then Malfoy retreated.
“Take it off,” he commanded and Hermione, aware of what Draco meant, obeyed. The Slytherin watched her pull off her sweater, unloosen her tie and remove it. Then the girl parted her legs a little and Draco drew in between her thighs, pressing against Hermione’s fragile body once more. He kissed her again, wriggled his tongue inside her mouth and stroked her hair.
Now Draco was sucking onto Hermione’s neck while his fingers were unbuttoning her shirt. He was leaning forward over the Gryffindor with no caution nor shame, and the girl flipped back onto the desk. Since the desk wasn’t wide enough, Hermione’s head was almost hanging over the edge, her hair swinging in the air, and Draco couldn’t that comfortably reach her neck anymore, so he gazed at Hermione’s chest in thirst as soon as he finished unbuttoning her shirt.
Draco already had some experience with girls. He had had sex with Pansy Parkinson several times during their fifth year. The girl was always fawning over Draco, she cared for him and expressed her fondness very often. Although he allowed and enjoyed the attention, he never had serious romantic feelings for her, so they never committed to each other. But last year Pansy was being very affectionate, she revealed her lust and Draco satisfied it. He didn’t try hard and was glad he didn’t have to as Parkinson worshiped the white-head and his every touch no matter what.
But Hermione was different. The main reason was because they had mutual feelings; Draco was quite fond of the Gryffindor. He was eager to explore her body and to please her. He didn’t know how long this affair would last, but Draco aspired to make himself very well remembered in that bushy head, which just a second ago breathed out his name.
Malfoy brushed his lips against the exposed skin of Hermione’s cleavage and abdomen and listened to her shy, muffled moans. He was holding onto the girl’s knees until he slid his hands underneath her skirt, reaching for the waistband of her thick black stockings, gripping it and unsparingly pulling it down together with her underwear and shoes. Hermione let out a loud gasp. It had a trace of nervousness, but she didn’t complain, nor did he.
Draco looked at the young witch arching her body up on the desk in front of him. She had her stomach pulled in as her whole body was tightening, and the Slytherin grazed the curves of the edges of her ribs with his tongue. The skirt was still covering Hermione’s intimate area, but Draco’s hands were gliding over her thighs underneath the clothing. He squeezed Hermione’s buttocks in his palms.
Hermione was shivering. She looked like she wasn’t thinking anymore; her closed eyes and rapid breathing indicated her enjoyment and it encouraged Draco to keep going. His erection was so rough that it seemed as if his manhood was about to rip off the stitches of the trousers on his crotch and burst out in search for relief.
The young man hung onto the Gryffindor’s back and pulled her up straight. He helped to take the girl’s shirt off, then unhooked her bra and allowed it slide down her arms. Draco looked at Hermione’s firm little breasts for a moment, admiring, and then put his hands on them with a gentle squeeze while his mouth was fixed on her neck.
Hermione made an attempt to unbutton Draco’s shirt too, but the boy grasped her wrists again.
“Why don’t you let me?” she groaned.
Draco didn’t answer; he just pressed Hermione’s wrists on the desk forcing her to lay back down.
Draco did want to free himself from his clothing, but he couldn’t. Hermione was already upset with how complicated things were due to Draco’s parents being on the dark side. If she saw the Dark Mark on his forearm and found out her lover was a Death Eater, she would most certainly storm out and tell everyone who needed to know that the least. Draco was aware that he will not be able to hold Hermione off forever, but what else could he do? The moment his mark was exposed, Hermione was going to leave.
The witch was lying on the desk with only her shabby skirt on. Draco brushed his fingers across the girl’s body and watched her nipples harden until it looked painful. He leaned over Hermione and grazed one of her nipples with his hot tongue. The Gryffindor shuddered and moaned, bending her back out of excitement. Draco covered the nipple with his lips and sucked onto the breast, clutching it so the roundness would stand out more.
Malfoy couldn’t stop worshipping Hermione’s supple breasts. He scraped his wet tongue all over them, kissing and capturing those pebbled nipples between his teeth. The girl was panting, her skin covered in goose bumps, her legs wrapped around the young man’s waist, her head swinging and turning to all directions. Hermione didn’t look like she wanted Draco to stop; in fact, she seemed to be completely willing to lay under his control. Her body language, along with the lustful sounds she was making, was telling Draco that Hermione had submitted herself to him fully.
The view and sounds made the Slytherin’s erection ache. He was starting to feel seriously woozy, his arousal getting stronger than ever. Draco slid his hand up along Hermione’s inner thigh. He watched the Gryffindor hold her breath when his palm was travelling upwards, but when his fingertips touched the area very close to her lower lips, Hermione let out a moan. Since the girl’s reaction didn’t convey any objection whatsoever, Draco let his thumb brush along her folds, slippery with fluid. Hermione’s hips jerked and another powerful gasp escaped her lips. Malfoy’s thumb slid in between her labia, but not entering, and he glided it gently up and down the clit. Breath was caught in Hermione’s throat, her feet were digging harder and harder into Draco’s back.
He withdrew his fingers from the girl and pushed her legs down from his waist. She whimpered in complaint for not continuing. But Draco unzipped Hermione’s skirt and pulled it down, now leaving the bushy-haired Gryffindor completely nude and vulnerable. The young man drank in the view of this girl squirming before him, and his groin began painfully pulsating.
Draco wrapped his other hand around one of her thighs, lifting it a bit higher, and Hermione bent her other leg, fixing her heel on the edge of the desk. Her limbs were parted completely, and Malfoy could see the young witch’s drenched cleft circled with curls. He pressed his fingers between the girl’s legs, damping them with her fluids. Then Draco’s middle finger slowly slid inside Hermione and more juices trickled down. He watched the girl’s chest rise with her lungs full of air. Draco’s digit was stroking Hermione’s inside when his index finger very slowly and gently joined in.
“Oh, god,” she exhaled, her eyebrows half furrowed half raised in intensity.
Draco was trying to be as delicate as he could, moving his wrist back and forth, letting Hermione’s resilient walls adapt to his fingers. When the Gryffindor seemed to be getting more relaxed, he began sliding faster and broader while his mouth held onto her inner thigh. Draco’s fingers now stroked a certain patch on Hermione’s mushy walls while his thumb reached for her clit, swirling around it.
Hermione was moaning and writhing almost uncontrollably. Her cheeks were flaming, her nails were holding onto the desk, and she was full of frantic arousal, her intimate parts soaked in her own juices.
When Draco thought his fingers had widened Hermione’s hole a bit, he unzipped his trousers and freed his junk out. It looked so hard it was almost turning blue. He pressed his shaft against Hermione’s wet entrance. The girl flinched, lifted her head a little and opened her eyes in mild panic.
“Just relax,” he murmured, “I’ll be careful.”
Hermione gulped, nodded, and laid her head back down.
After he brushed his cock between her folds to moisten in, Malfoy softly pushed the tip in. The girl was all very tight and tense, afraid to take deeper breaths in, and reacted sensitively to every Draco’s move, even the slightest one. But he was being very careful. He kept sliding his erection in little by little, stretching Hermione’s hole with every gentle shove. The girl was making uncomfortable sounds, and Draco wasn’t sure how he could ease her pain.
“Do you want me to st—?” he began, but was cut off.
“No,” Hermione said breathlessly, but her body seemed to rather protest the penetration.
Draco leaned over the naked girl and began caressing her neck and breasts. He then looked at her and whispered, “You can grasp onto me as hard as you want. It’ll make it easier.”
Hermione listened and he felt her short nails dig into his flesh on his back while her legs tightly wrapped around him.
Draco was thrusting his cock deeper until he felt that Hermione’s searing, wet walls had engulfed it whole. He let out a hot breath on the girl’s chest and began slowly moving his hips more rhythmically. The Gryffindor was still tense and evidently uncomfortable, but she seemed to be relaxing after a minute, when Draco put his thumb back on the swollen bud at the top of her folds and massaged it. And when Hermione’s moans started sounding more like the ones of pleasure, Malfoy began rocking his hips faster against the girl.
He was very light-headed and his arousal felt almost at the edge. Draco tried concentrating very hard on pleasing Hermione instead of his own need to discharge. He wanted her to feel good. He wanted her to leave the classroom with her innocent mind ruined by the intensity of her orgasm.
The young wizard kept humping the girl, rubbing her clit and licking on her chest and erect nipples. The desk was creaking and Hermione’s briefcase fell down, but neither of the students cared. Hermione was almost blowing up; her screams were becoming so loud Draco had to shush her. Her body was sticky in light sweat and her head was clouded with excitement and pleasure.
Draco knew he was about to erupt, so he was glad to see Hermione overwhelmed and clamouring for release, her whimpers begging Malfoy not to stop. And then, after her inside muscles clamped down firmly on his pulsating shaft, Draco felt her walls rhythmically contract along with her body vibrating in climax. Hermione was biting on her lip, trying to not scream too loud and instead just moaning fervently.
The wizard’s cock felt like it was about to explode, so he quickly pulled it out on time and spurted his release on the witch’s stomach, groaning under his breath. The girl didn’t seem to be startled or disgusted; she just lay there, catching her breath, her body trembling in bliss.
Draco pressed his lips upon Hermione’s inner thigh. His head was dizzy and his legs felt wobbly, barely managing to support him. He’d never experienced such a strong orgasm. The girl felt incredibly good; she was hot, tight and wet, and her whimpers made him shiver. He’d never felt so satisfied.
When both students were able to respire better, Draco stood straight and was surprised not to see blood trickling from Hermione. Then he took out his wand, muttered “Tergeo” and, as soon as his whitish fluid vanished from Hermione’s abdomen, he leaned again to kiss her. The girl giggled, her voice still shaking, and Malfoy helped her sit up. He laid his palms on her burning cheeks and they looked at each other’s eyes. Hermione chuckled again seeming a little embarrassed.
“You alright?” asked Draco and smiled a little at the girl’s nod. He put his junk back into his trousers and zipped.
Then they snogged a bit more, and after that Draco helped Hermione put her clothes back on. When they both had tidied up and were now standing at the door gazing at each other, Hermione spoke, still flustered.
“I hope this will happen again.”
Draco’s eyes were smiling in pride, even though his mouth was barely curving up. He made a reassuring nod.
Hermione pressed her lips against Draco’s once more and then, after casting the Unlocking Charm at the door, swiftly exited the classroom.

Draco stood there, his flushed skin sticking to his clothing and his groin still tingling. His goal tonight was to make the young Gryffindor lose her mind, but he ended up losing his own.
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Peace in the Darkness