Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: This will be relevant later in the chapter: the song that plays is “You Should Know Where I’m Coming From” by Banks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A watched cauldron never boils, Granger,” Draco drawled from his repose upon his king sized bed.
It had only been an hour since Draco’s eagle owl, Nyx, had departed with the message Hermione had written to Dumbledore about helping them, but Hermione was unable to stop herself from standing at the doors to Draco’s bedroom balcony and staring out at the sky. She knew that it would probably be a while before the owl returned with a response; Dumbledore may have been hundreds of miles away for all they knew. But she still kept finding herself gravitating towards the doors with anticipation.

Hermione turned her face towards Draco at his comment, “I can’t help it. I just want to figure this out and the longer we stay here the worse we could be making things.”

“We talked about this, Granger,” Draco said, still lounging. “We would probably make things worse by leaving here without Dumbledore’s advice than we are by staying quiet and out of sight here.”

“I know,” Hermione replied, “but I spent the first week of summer holiday after fifth year museum hopping with my parents. They must be so worried that I’m missing. Mum is sure to have the whole of Scotland Yard searching for me by now.”

Draco fought the urge to make a rib at her expense about how she thought going to museums to learn the first week out of school was fun, and instead simply asked, “What is Scotland Yard?”

“It’s like the Muggle version of Aurors in London,” she answered with a worried sigh and looked out the panes of the doors again.

“You need to relax. They’ll be fine. When we get everything straightened out we can just perform a memory charm and they’ll never even remember you were missing,” Draco said in what he hoped was a placating tone. So he was startled when Hermione paled, slammed shut her eyes and began breathing very quickly. She looked like she was going to hyperventilate.

“Oh shite, not again,” Draco thought and sat up in his bed.

“Hermione, what’s wrong,” he said firmly, but gently, hoping to stop her from having another traumatic flashback. Hermione’s eyes snapped open and she took a huge breath. She turned her face to him.

“You said my first name,” she said in disbelief. It seemed more like a question than a statement.

Draco frowned slightly, “Well, you looked like you were about to have another one of those episodes and I was able to get you to snap out of your last one by saying your name.”

“You did?” she asked contemplatively. He nodded slightly. “Hmm. Well, thank you, but I wasn’t going to have another episode. It was just…” she sighed deeply and hugged her arms around herself and shook her head.

“What is it? We promised to be honest with each other,” Draco said, scooting himself to the edge of the bed to plant his feet on the floor. Hermione walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. She fixed her sad gaze to the doors across the room again.

“When you mentioned using a memory charm on my parents, it brought back some very painful memories. I obliviated them during the war, you see. For three years they didn’t even know I existed,” she said in a voice hardly louder than a whisper.

Draco was at a loss for what to say to try and comfort her. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her to erase herself from her parents’ lives. He tried hard to think of something to say, but was reprieved when Hermione’s stomach suddenly gave a loud rumble.

“Hungry?” Draco chuckled lightly.

Hermione rubbed her belly. “Yeah, I guess so,” she answered with a weak smile. “Only thing I’ve had to eat all day was some toast early this morning. I really didn’t have much of an appetite earlier.”

“Yea, I know what you mean,” Draco agreed. He was now the one looking longingly at the doors. Hermione looked at him expectantly. His tone made it seem like he had more to say, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Do you? What happened to you today to affect your appetite? I mean besides the whole travelling back in time thing?” she asked him.

Draco knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with not answering. “This morning I finally told Astoria that I was divorcing her. She agreed by telling me she was going to hire a solicitor,” he said flatly. “Knowing that you’re about to get crucified in the media and robbed of your family inheritance by a money-grubbing bitch does wonders for the stomach.”

He stood up from the bed and stepped in front of Hermione. He held his hand out to her, “Now if milady is satisfied with my explanation, can we kindly eat something?”

Hermione giggled silently and took his hand as she stood. “So where shall we be dining, milord?”

“The balcony has a table and a great view of the gardens,” Draco said, dropping her hand and starting toward what Hermione was sure was the main door to the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” she asked with a small amount of alarm.

“I’m just going to get us something to eat. I can’t have the house elves know that you’re here. Just go out on the balcony and I’ll be right back,” he replied.

“What if someone sees us out there?” she asked, looking toward the French doors again.

Draco shook his head, “No one will see us. There is no one here save the elves and they won’t leave their posts without permission.”

He knew by the look on her face that she was about to ask him how he was sure, so he decided to elaborate. “My father will still be in Azkaban. My mother spends every Sunday at her favorite spa. No one else lives here, the grounds are too large for an outsider to see us up here, and the Dark Lord has not yet made this his headquarters. We are alone.”

Hermione nodded to indicate that she was comfortable with his assertion. Without further comment, Draco opened the door and disappeared into the hall beyond.

As soon as he left, Hermione went to her discarded robe and fished out her wand from one of the pockets. She then looked around at the room and marveled at the lavishness of it.

The walls were covered in dark grey wallpaper that was sparsely patterned with shining silver fleur-de-lis. The floor was a polished ebony hardwood with an enormous, plush grey and green Persian rug covering most of the walking area. All of the furniture was ornate black lacquer. In the far corner stood an overlarge hunter green armchair and beside it was a small bookcase that was full of neatly arranged books.

On the large four-post bed was a luxurious dark green, down comforter and half a dozen decorative throw pillows. The doors, moldings and high, paneled ceiling were white. A grand scalloped mirror hung over the large black desk. Silver sconces that held thick black candles were placed strategically around the room. An impressive jade dragon statuette stood atop the bed side dresser but there were no other visible possessions in the room. Hermione thought that it was quite possibly the most beautiful room she had ever seen.

She made her way to the door that she knew lead to the bathroom, pushed inside, and closed the door. As soon as she stepped inside, several torches flared to life bathing the room in a bright light and she gasped.

The room was larger than her family room had been. The entire room seemed to be made of grey and black veined white marble. Next to the toilet was a large white porcelain basin sink over which hung another ornate mirror. At the far end of the room was a shower enclosed within a clear glass partition. Fluffy, white towels, each embroidered with a scrolled silver “M”, hung from holders on each wall. All of the fixtures and handles were polished chrome.

Hermione opened a thin door that was on the wall across from the sink and found it to be full of toiletries, potion vials, and extra towels. She closed the closet door and turned around to face the mirror.

Hermione gasped loudly as she finally looked upon her changed appearance. She really did look sixteen again. Had she ever looked so young?

She thought that she had aged relatively well, but seeing her teenage self again made it glaringly clear just how much she had changed. She was thinner, and her jaw line and cheek bones were more defined. Her eyes seemed brighter, but she wore no make-up. Her hair was an unruly mess of curls again, but she knew she could charm it back under control.

She moved her gaze down to her torso and frowned as she took in the appearance of her button-up shirt still missing the one sleeve. She removed the garment to reveal the form-fitting, nude colored camisole she wore underneath. Hermione brought her hands up to cup her breasts. They were at least two sizes smaller than they had been, but they were firmer and definitely perkier.

She ran a hand over her abdomen and smiled at the taut muscles she felt there. She turned around and smirked a little at herself as she looked over her shoulder to admire her backside. Even in the straight trousers she was wearing she could tell her butt and legs once again had the athletic definition that came with the activity of youth. Damn, she had missed this lithe body.

“Granger?” she heard Draco yell from the bedroom.

“I’m in here,” she yelled back, not taking her eyes off of her reflection. “Hey, Malfoy! Can we really do magic in here without being traced?” she shouted at the door.

“Yes,” came his slightly muffled response. Hermione smiled and flicked her wand.

At once her hair loosened and smoothed itself into flowing waves down her back. Another flick and her eyelashes were shades darker with the appearance of mascara. Yet another flick and her nice trousers became a pair of low-rise denims. She looked at her shoes and decided that the gray flats she was wearing were comfortable and cute enough to leave as they were.

Hermione then took her shirt with the missing sleeve and transfigured it into a form hugging, yet comfortable white cotton v-neck t-shirt. She pulled on the shirt slowly over her sore shoulder and then admired herself once more in the mirror. It was little consolation considering the situation, but she was happy to look so young and beautiful again.

“What are you doing in there?” Draco shouted. Hermione sighed and, finally tearing her eyes off the mirror, exited the room.

“What do you think I was doing?” she retorted in mock irritation. She raked her fingers across her scalp and tousled her hair a bit. “I wanted to freshen-up and get a bit more comfortable for dinner,” she said.

Draco’s jaw fell open when he saw Hermione emerge from his loo. He secretly loved it when women dressed down and especially loved plain t-shirts. Having grown-up around nothing but pristinely primped debutants and pureblood heiresses, there was something alluring and forbidden about a woman that wasn’t afraid to just be comfortable. He gaped at her and scanned his eager eyes over her body.

“Fuck, is she gorgeous,” he thought. He took in her form from head to toe and flashes of his previous daydream replayed in his mind.

Hermione noticed the effect her appearance was having on Draco and she felt a surge of pride and confidence course through her. It had been a very long time since any man had looked at her like that. In fact, Draco’s involuntary response made her feel sexier in that one moment than Ron had ever made her feel in the whole of their marriage. She let herself bask in Draco’s silent attention for a moment and then cleared her throat loudly.

“Did you bring us some food?” she asked with a grin.

Draco broke from his trance and cleared his own throat awkwardly. “Um…um, yes. I already brought it outside,” he said.

He held his arm and hand out motioning for her to walk ahead of him out onto the balcony. Hermione did so and as the scene before her came into view she grabbed a hand to her chest and breathed out, “Oh my.”

It seemed there was no end to the beauty and opulence of the Manor. Ahead of her, beyond the ivy covered rail of the balcony, were the famous Malfoy gardens. Row upon row of neatly trimmed hedges, ornamental trees, and hundreds of bushes and flowers of every imaginable species and color met her gaze. Low stone benches and statues depicting Greek heroes were nestled every few meters among them. At the center of it all was a rectangular pool that was fed by steady trickles of water flowing from the tilted vases held by two life-sized stone maidens perched at either end of it.

“This is what you get to wake up to everyday?” she asked in awe.

Draco said nothing, but instead pulled out one of the scrolled iron patio chairs at their matching dining table. Hermione turned at the sound of it and smiled at him in thanks as she sat in the chair. She looked down at the plate he had already placed on the table and she nearly choked. On the plate was a full entrée of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

“How did you find the time to make this?” she asked in mild shock.

“I didn’t,” he answered as he took his place in his own chair across the table. “The house elves have always been ordered to make this every Sunday. When I was younger my parents and I would eat this together in the guest hall every week. After my father went to prison, Mother decided to go on weekend retreats to escape her own misery, and I was left to my own. I never told the elves to stop making it because it helped me feel normal… if even for one meal.”

Draco reached forward and took hold of a pitcher and poured himself some pumpkin juice from it and then poured some in the glass in front of Hermione.

“Thank you,” she said nodding to the juice. She picked-up her fork and stabbed a bit of her beef. Draco followed her lead and they ate together in silence for a while.

“This is quite good,” Hermione stated after a few minutes. “You know, my parents and I used to have this every Sunday as well. It’s interesting how different and yet how similar we all are, isn’t it?”

Draco looked at her thoughtfully, but said nothing and Hermione ventured on. “Do you really not hate me anymore?”

Draco set down his fork and leaned back in the chair. “I was always taught to hate you. And for a time I did, but not because you were Muggleborn,” he sighed and looked her in the face. “You made my life hell and the only response I knew was to be as nasty to you as possible.”

“I made your life hell?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes, you did. You were better than me at everything except flying. My father reminded me of that fact every chance he got. He would tell me that I was a failure and that he was ashamed that I was always being bested by a mud...by a Muggleborn. But, whenever I really thought about you I would get so confused and angry because you proved everything my father ever told me about your kind wrong. It tore me up that I was unable to please him because of you. It was even worse as we got older because you were attractive and so goddamned smart. I had to force myself everyday to pretend to hate you after fourth year.”

“Why fourth year?” Hermione interjected.

“Two words: Viktor Krum,” he answered. “He was as pureblood as you can get: wealthy, famous, talented. He had the pick of any girl at Hogwarts and Beauxbatons and who should he ask out? You! It shattered any illusions I ever had about you, and any horrible thing I said to you after that was solely for show.”

Hermione’s mind reeled with Draco’s revelations. She sat back in her own chair. “I’m sorry I’m the reason your father said those terrible things to you. But hey…you were better at Divination than me,” she joked lightly.

Draco laughed. “Yes, my father was quite impressed by that,” he replied sarcastically. Hermione laughed back, and then thought of something he had said.

“So, you thought I was attractive in school?” she asked playfully. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Fuck, Granger. Did you not look in the mirror in there? I’m sure every bloke at Hogwarts wanked to thoughts of you at least once,” he said with a wink and took a sip of his juice.

Hermione blushed. “Yeah, well, I heard your name being moaned behind the curtains of my dorm mates’ beds more than a few times,” she said with a snigger.

“Really?” Draco asked with a crooked smile.

“Of course,” she replied. “You were the second hottest guy in school after all.”

“Second? Who was the first?”

She smiled and raised her eyebrows at him, “Do you really want to know?” At his nod she said, “Blaise Zabini.”

Draco let out a deep, genuine laugh. The sound of his laughter sent a shock wave through Hermione. She had never heard him laugh like that before and found herself intoxicated by it. She never wanted him to stop.

But he recovered himself quickly and said, “Good ol’ Blaise. That lucky bastard did have a different girl sneaking into his bed every other week.”

“And you didn’t?” Hermione inquired innocently.

Draco shook his head, “No. Pansy and I had a thing on and off sixth and seventh years, but that was it.”

Hermione nodded, “Yeah, I figured you and Pansy were together. She was your first?”

Draco nodded. “I suppose Weasley was yours?” he asked in return. Hermione blushed, looked down at the table, and shook her head. Draco scooted to the edge of his chair. “Holy shite, Granger. It’s always the quiet ones, huh? So how many?” he asked almost too eagerly. He wasn’t sure why, but he found that he was very happy that the Weasel had not gotten to her first.

Hermione looked up at him sheepishly. “Only one. I’ve never told anyone. We both promised that we’d never talk about it. But, I suppose I can tell you since it technically never happened now and he won’t even remember it.”

“Was it Krum?” he blurted out.

“No, though he was a Seeker. Youngest to make a Hogwarts team in over a century,” she said, hoping Draco would get the reference. She eyed him anxiously for a moment. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head and a second later his eyes went wide and he grinned mischievously.

“No way. You and Potter?” Hermione nodded. Draco sat back a little and whistled. “I can see why you never told anyone. So how did that happen anyway?”

Hermione’s face became serious then and she looked off into the distance towards the gardens.

“It was during what would have been our seventh year; while we were on the run. It was the absolute worst time in our lives. We had been given this ridiculously difficult mission. We were being hunted. Every day we were starving and freezing. Ron had deserted us. It was just me and Harry out there alone for weeks. We more came together out of necessity.”

She looked at Draco and saw that he was watching her with a solemn expression. She sighed and continued, “It was just…we were lonely and scared and we only had each other.”

“Like us,” Draco said softly. He wasn't sure why, but something compelled him to touch her and he reached out and took her hand gently in his.

Hermione stopped breathing at his touch. The warmth of his hand sent a peculiar wave of longing through her body and her heart began to thump violently. Did he just imply…

She snatched her hand away from his and held it to her chest. She found her breathing had returned but it was rapid and frenzied. “This…we…I…” she stammered. She suddenly pushed back her chair and bolted to the doors.

“Wait!” she heard Draco yell after her as she reentered his bedroom. He came through the door a second later and found her staring at the floor, standing beside his bed with one hand clenched around one of its post and her other hand still pushed against her heart.

Draco went to her and turned her around to face him. He brought his hand to her chin and lifted her face to look at him. Uncertain brown eyes met stormy grey. “We aren’t supposed to be together,” she said shakily.

“Why not?” Draco replied as he rubbed his thumb across her cheek to remove a lone tear that had escaped her eye.

Hermione shook her head almost imperceptibly, “Because. The future…our lives…”

“Will be different,” he interjected.

“And the children?” she asked sadly.

Draco removed his hand from her face and placed it over the hand she had on her heart. He took his other hand and placed it over his own heart. Spurred by the same, sudden urge to be near her that had made him touch her hand, he boldly leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “We will always have them with us, Hermione.”

Hermione broke apart at his words. She leaned into him and the sob that ached to be expelled from her mouth was halted when Draco’s lips came crashing down on her own. She returned the kiss with fervor, releasing in it twenty years worth of frustration and longing. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer.

The intensity with which Hermione was kissing him, urged Draco on and he let loose a growl and thrust his tongue into her eager mouth where it danced with hers. Never before had he experienced the feeling of pure passion that Hermione was creating within him. This is what he had always wanted. She was perfect.

The heat of their forceful kisses grew exponentially by the second and their hands moved swiftly over each other’s bodies feeling and grasping at everything they could reach. Draco placed his hands at the base of Hermione’s cotton tee and tugged it up. They broke their kiss for the half second it took him to pull the shirt over her head and then joined again full force.

Hermione’s hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as their tongues battled and she pushed it back off of his shoulders. Draco shucked the offending garment off the rest of the way and then grabbed the white undershirt he was still wearing and ripped it up over his head. He admired her flushed form for a millisecond and then resumed their fevered onslaught of kisses.

The feel of Hermione’s hands upon his chest almost did him in. No woman had ever touched the bare skin of his torso before. Astoria had never allowed him to remove his shirt and his times with Pansy had been hurried and focused solely below the waist. He moaned loudly into Hermione’s mouth as the feel of her soft hands burned into his flesh. Every place she touched felt ablaze.

Driven by lust and some nameless desire, Draco grabbed her arse in his hands and lifted her up effortlessly. He lowered her onto his bed behind them and straddled her as he scooted them up into the middle of its plush mattress.

Hermione inhaled sharply when she felt Draco’s hand press against her belly and the icy tingle of a contraceptive charm spread across it. The gesture intensified the passion she poured into their kiss and suddenly the sounds of a piano playing echoed around them. Draco pulled back in alarm. Hermione grabbed his face in her hands.

“It’s alright,” she panted. “The music. It’s from me.”

“It is?” Draco panted back with a slightly baffled look. Hermione nodded and he listened for a moment.

The music was slow, beautiful and somewhat haunting. He found the tone of it only served to enhance his desire and it set the perfect pace for what he wanted to happen next. He leaned forward and recaptured Hermione’s waiting lips in a searing kiss just as a woman’s voice began to sing lyrics. He broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes and smiled. She smiled back and he moved his face down to her neck where he breathed in deeply. Hermione arched into him at the feel of his lips ghosting along her neck.

Draco continued down her body pressing his face into her torso as he went, inhaling her intoxicating scent. His hands trailed down her sides and caressed every rib and curve. When his face was even with her belly he pushed up the camisole she was still wearing and he kissed her flat stomach.

He continued his way back up her body, kissing and pushing the shirt higher as he did so. When he came to her breasts he pulled the cami over her head swiftly and looked down upon them briefly with admiration. Hermione whimpered as he cupped a hand to each one. He bent his head forward and just as he brought one of her pert nipples to his lips he whispered, “Perfect.”

Hermione shuddered in pleasure at the sensation his breath had on her sensitive breast and then she moaned loudly when he latched his mouth over it completely and laved it with his tongue. His hand massaged her other breast in time with the song’s rhythm and Hermione could take no more. She reached down between them and pulled at the button and zipper of his trousers undoing them quickly. She plunged a hand inside, past the top of his boxers and grasped the hard, silky length within them. She stroked her hand firmly up and down him several times and she felt Draco’s breath catch and he hissed against her chest.

He detached himself from her and pulled up. He deftly unfastened her denims and, in one swift move, pulled them and her knickers down and off of her. He flung the clothing harshly to the side with a low growl and then pushed his own trousers and boxers down and kicked them off behind himself.

Draco sat back on his heels between her legs and gazed upon Hermione’s nude form. The beauty of her curves and glistening skin coupled with the passionate message of the song that played in the air around them tore at the fabric of his soul and he was suddenly gripped by fear. How could I ever possibly be good enough for her?

Hermione saw the doubt in his face and it made him look so innocent and vulnerable that her heart swelled. She realized, in that moment, that she had never wanted a man more in her life than she wanted Draco right then. She sat up and cupped his worried face in her hands and kissed him gently. She leaned back again, still holding his face, pulling his body to lay over hers as she went.

The feel of Hermione’s honest kisses and warm body pressed against his quelled his fear and in its place an even more intense desire than before flared to life.

Draco deepened their kiss and his right hand glided over Hermione’s smooth thigh and he grabbed her leg just behind her knee and threw it around his back. He pressed into her and the head of his erection nudged firmly against her clit and she bucked into him and moaned into his mouth. He glided his left hand over her right leg and threw it over his back like he had the other. He leaned in again and then moved back quickly to slide his cock against her hot, wet folds. Her nails clenched into his back and Draco gave a low appreciative chuckle. He repeated the motion several times and Hermione’s breathing and moans became more pronounced with each pass.

She scratched her nails down his back and the sensation made him snap. Draco pulled back and stared deeply into Hermione’s lust-filled, brown eyes. He lined up the head of his cock with her entrance and when she whispered, “Draco,” he thrust forward sharply.

Draco felt a barrier within her break as he plunged in and Hermione let out a pained cry. He held himself buried within her and didn’t move as he looked into her face for guidance. Her eyes were shut tight and she grimaced slightly.

“Hermione?” he whispered. She blinked open her eyes and smiled at him weakly.

“Move…slowly,” she wheezed.

Draco obeyed and slowly pulled out of her and then just as slowly eased back in and then repeated. She was so tight around him that it was borderline painful and he was sweating with the effort to maintain his slow pace. So he didn’t have to be told twice when Hermione suddenly grabbed his arse and said, “Faster!”

He picked-up the pace and was soon thrusting into her rapidly. He balanced his body over her with his left arm and grabbed the back of her head with his right hand. He pulled her head to the side by her hair, buried his face in her neck and kissed and licked and nipped her tender flesh frantically.

Hermione’s loud and quickening moans and whimpers along with the tight heat of her pussy caused the pressure in his core to build quickly and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Draco,” Hermione said suddenly, “are you about to go?”

He answered with a labored, “Yes.”

“Good, because so am I,” and with that she reached down between them and pressed a finger hard into her clit.

She gasped loudly and Draco felt her walls spasm around his cock, sending him over in the process. He moaned and thrust a few more times as he felt himself spill into her. He collapsed on top of her when it finished and then rolled over to lie facing her.

They looked each other straight in the eyes and smiled just as the last few notes of the song in the air faded away. They said nothing and only the sounds of their ragged breathing filled the room.

Hermione raised her hand and rested it on his cheek. The sex had been quick, but she found that she was more satisfied than she had been in years...more satisfied than she had ever been, to be honest. She smiled at him and pushed his disheveled hair behind his ear. Draco ran his hand down her side and rested it on her hip.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she answered truthfully, “Though it was quite a surprise. I didn’t even think about the fact that the time jump made us both virgins again.”

Draco’s small smile turned into an ear to ear grin at her words.

“So, you mean I am now your first?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Well, technically, yes,” she replied with a grin.

“Technically is good enough for me!” he whooped and pulled her close to pepper her with light kisses down her cheeks and neck. Hermione giggled and playfully pushed him away.

“Hey, now listen,” she said, “If this is going to become a regular thing then we have got to work on your foreplay and attention to detail. That was dreadful, you know. I even had to make myself come,” she teased.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Granger. I am a very fast learner,” he replied and hugged his arms around her tightly. She sighed into his chest with contentment. Draco twirled one of her long brown curls around one of his fingers.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?” Hermione blurted out suddenly.

Draco pulled back from her slightly and said, “Ask you about what?”

“The music,” she answered hesitantly.

“Oh, that? Well, it was strange at first, but I actually rather enjoyed it. It was kind of like our own little soundtrack. I just figured it was something you liked to do. Though I am curious about how you did it,” he responded and looked at her expectantly.

Hermione sighed and looked up at him. “It’s not really something I like to do necessarily, but I have no control over it.” Draco raised an eyebrow at her and she continued, “I have a very rare ability. It’s a form of magical telepathy called Audio Teleprojection. When people with my ability reach certain emotional states their minds automatically project a song or melody that they feel matches the emotions. For me, there are only two situations that cause me to project and sex is one of them.”

“So, every time you have sex a song will play out loud?” Draco asked curiously. Hermione nodded. “Do you pick the song you want to play?” he asked.

Hermione shook her head. “I have absolutely no control over the choice or volume of the song. My subconscious scans through every song I’ve ever heard and then picks the one it feels is the most compatible with my emotions at the time. It’s been surprisingly accurate, and it has never played the same song twice,” she said as she grabbed one of his throw pillows and hugged it to her chest. They were silent for a moment and Hermione spoke again, “You’re really not bothered by it?”

“No,” Draco said simply, “Why should it bother me?”

Hermione shrugged, “Well, it scared the crap out of Harry at first, though he did get over it eventually. But Ron absolutely hated it. He would cast a silencing charm over me every time. I don’t think he ever got over the first song.” She covered her mouth and suppressed a tiny laugh.

“What was it?” Draco asked eagerly, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I don’t think you’d get it if you don’t know Muggle music,” she said.

“Try me. Music happens to be one of my passions and I have not limited my knowledge of it to the Wizarding World,” he replied.

“Okay,” she said with a grin, “It was ‘Fuck Her Gently’ by Tenacious D.”

Draco burst out laughing. He laughed loud and long and Hermione laughed with him. Gods, did she love his laugh. “So you’ve heard it then,” she said after he regained his composure a little. He nodded.

“That’s pretty fucking hilarious, Granger,” he said lightly. “So, what was Potter’s first song?”

Hermione sobered slightly and sighed, “Sorry, Malfoy. That one stays a secret.”

Draco frowned a little, but didn’t push it. “Hey, so what’s the second thing?” he asked as he pulled himself up to lean against his headboard.

“What second thing?” she asked slightly confused.

“The second thing that makes you project music.”

Hermione pulled herself up to lean against the headboard as well. Still clutching the pillow to her chest, she took a deep breath and turned to him. “The second thing is a bit scarier, at least for me. It happens when I am in battle.”

“Aside from it being during battle, why is that projection scarier to you? What kind of songs did you project?” Draco asked earnestly.

“It was mostly heavy metal and hard rock stuff. But some of the songs were really messed-up lyrics wise and it scares me to know that part of my subconscious is morally fucked-up,” she said, deflating a little.

“Hmm, well fucked-up or not, I can’t wait to hear what song it picks for me next time,” Draco said and he wrapped his arms around Hermione and kissed her gently on the forehead.
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Songs of Regret