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Cast No Shadow	By : ColdWaterFairy Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13632 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Miahdrake - My ever faithful reader, I write to please you. I hope you like my little plot twist.
JESS - You're too sweet. Your review made me deliriously happy.
Hermione awoke to the feel of hands on her body. For a moment she thought she was back at home and it was Harry waking her up this way. Then she remembered it was Draco's hands, and she couldn't help but stiffen. Still, his gentle exploring of her body soon had her sighing and pressing into him. He rolled her over onto her stomach and placed a pillow under her hips. She and Harry didn't detour very often from either missionary or her on top, so the thought of the new position excited her greatly. Draco bit down on her neck, then trailed soft kisses down her back. He stopped to trace her new scars with his tongue. She sighed softly. His hand reached down to touch her to make sure she was ready for him, and of course she was. She had only to think of him and she was ready. He grabbed her hips and positioned his shaft at her entrance and hesitated. She realized he was waiting for the okay from her.

"Now, Draco." He plunged into her and pulled out and plunged again. She was helpless not to cry out. She usually wasn't very vocal, but Draco seemed to make it a priority to make her yell as loud as she could. With the room dark and her on her stomach she could almost forget who was moving inside of her. As if sensing her thoughts, Draco dug his fingers into her hip, causing her to whimper in pain.

"No, Hermione, you will not pretend it's Potter moving in you." She could feel Draco's mood change. He pulled out of her, and she protested. He got up, grabbing his boxers and putting them on, and walked out of the room. Her body was still humming for release. She let her hand move down to stroke her clit. After a minute she climaxed, but it felt empty without him inside her. She closed her eyes, shutting out the world.

Draco was sitting in front of the fire in his library, his body tense with suppressed rage. How dare that bitch try and make herself feel better about the pleasure he was giving her by pretending she was with Potter? He could honestly strangle her. She was hanging on to Potter like she was afraid to let go because if she did everything would cease to exist. He didn't know why he was so upset. What kind of life could he offer her? He was dead, on paper, and, not to be trite, but probably emotionally as well. He was to used to being on his own, too emotionally repressed to let anyone else in. Hermione made him yearn for more, something he had no right to. He needed to let her go. He felt bad messing with her head ,but at the same time she needed it. He didn't think she was really in love with Potter; he was more a source of comfort and stability, something Draco knew mattered a lot to her. She would be content living out her life with Harry. With Draco there would be no guarantees. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped he had the will power to follow through.

When Hermione awoke for the second time it was to find herself alone. She reached a hand out to touch Draco's side of the bed and it was cold. He hadn't returned after leaving her. She got up and noticed something at the foot of the bed, It was which turned out to be clothes—and a note.

Here are some clothes to see you back to your flat. Your part in the mission is over.

It was a cool dismissal. Hermione was angry. How dare he blow her off? So he could have sex with her and then discard her without at least telling her to her face that it was over. Well, to hell with him. She didn't need him. She grabbed the clothes and went to shower. She kept up her anger until she was washing and realized she was using his soap. She was washing him off of herself with his soap. She would smell like him. She cried then, not because of any feelings of guilt but because she didn't want this to be the last time she was with him. She shook herself mentally. Get it together, Hermione!

She finished her shower and got dressed and was about to Apparate back to her flat when a thought flashed through her mind. Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked to his closet and grabbed a shirt. She didn't care which one it was, she just wanted one. It was a silly, girly thing to do, but contrary to what he thought, she didn't want to forget him.

Once back in her Muggle flat she didn't waste any time packing. She was sore all over, especially her back. She wasn't sure how she was going to explain the scars to Harry, but she would think of something later. She double-checked to make sure she had everything and was heading out when she noticed a white envelope sitting on the warped coffee table. She walked over and opened it. Inside was her engagement ring. She hadn't even noticed she wasn't wearing it, which was odd considering how hard she'd fought Draco on being able to wear it. She put on the ring, effectively ending the time she had spent being Athena, and left without a backward glance.

Harry was still at work when she let herself into their flat. She was glad; she wasn't sure she could take answering his questions and pretending she hadn't just gone through hell. More than that, she was afraid she couldn't hide the fact that she had been with someone else; she was sure it would show in her eyes. She unpacked, putting all her clothes into the laundry except Draco's shirt. That she carefully folded and hid beneath her underwear. She changed into pj's and crawled into bed.

It felt foreign to her, where it used to feel safe. She cursed Draco. He had ruined her; nothing would be the same ever again. She shut her eyes, just wanting to escape for a while. When Harry came home and he woke her up with kisses, she returned them. When he pulled her shirt over her head she let him. When he entered her, she embraced him. She poured all of her heart into her response, praying he wouldn't see that something was missing, that she no longer craved his gentle touches but wanted hard, almost painful thrusts. He didn't, but what Harry did notice was that for the first time she didn't say his name when she came. He wondered what had happened in the two weeks she'd been gone.

Later in the night found Hermione standing in front of the window in her living room. She had sneaked out of bed after Harry had fallen asleep. She couldn't help but wonder what Draco was doing right now. Was he thinking of her? She hoped he was safe. Her concern for his well-being had stopped surprising her. They had been intimate, after all. She was tired of berating herself for feelings she knew she couldn't get rid of. Would he contact her? Half of her hoped he would and the other, more sensible half just wanted things to return to normal between her and Harry. She knew they couldn't, though. Her actions had made sure of that. The best course of action was to pretend nothing had happened between her and Draco. Obviously, to judge by his cool dismissal, that was what Draco wanted too.

She jumped when Harry came up behind her and kissed her neck. He turned her around. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She didn't know how to answer him so she smiled and said, "Nothing." He knew she was lying.
It had been six months since she last saw Draco. It was getting easier to push thoughts of him out of her mind. At first she was constantly on edge, expecting him to show up and harass her about sleeping with him. After two months she had asked Mrs. Howell if she'd heard from him. All Mrs. Howell would say was that he was deep undercover. Hermione constantly worried about his safety. She started to stay late again, hoping to catch him, but he never showed up. She had even thought about leaving him a note in his office, but she nixed that idea. The last thing she wanted was for Draco to think she needed him.

Sometimes, late at night when everyone was gone, she would go into his office and sit in his chair; and on rare desperate nights she'd go lie down on the bed in the other room just so she could take in his smell and know she was touching something he'd touched. She knew her behavior was crazy, and it was interfering with her life with Harry. She would catch him looking at her every so often with a guarded expression on his face. She loved himm but he wasn't her world any more. She had grown up and now realized that she had idealized their love in an unfair way that was almost impossible to live up to. It didn't mean she loved Harry any less, but her belief that their relationship was perfect because it was so pure had lapsed. Knowing this, however, had not changed her mind about marrying Harry. She loved him more than anyone else, and although she had betrayed him and felt awful about that, the thought of not having him in her life was too much to comprehend. She had betrayed his love, but that didn't mean she didn't deserve it. She would make it up to him.

She sighed and looked at the clock on her desk; it read ten o'clock. Goodness, she thought. I'd better get home. Harry is probably worrying about me. She got up and put on her robe. She turned off her light and was about head out when she felt a pull in the direction of Draco's office. Just a quick peek won't hurt, she thought.

She walked down the hall and pushed his door open. He wasn't there, of course; he never was. The air in his office was stale, like no one had been there in a while. She walked in further. It wouldn't hurt to sit on the bed for five minutes. She set down her attaché case and walked through the bathroom into the little room and sat down on the bed. After a minute she decided it wouldn't hurt to just put her head down on the pillow. As soon as she did, she could smell him, and it brought back all the memories of being with him. She felt the familiar ache that those memories brought on.

Hermione made a quick decision. She was alone, so why not take care of it? She stood up and kicked off her shoes, pulled off her robe, and started to unbutton her blouse. Her skirt and underwear followed. When she was naked she lay back on the bed. She didn't do this often, so she was always a little awkward. Her hands moved to her breasts and massaged them, tweaking her nipples as she imagined Draco's mouth on her breasts. While one hand stayed there, the other moved down to her clit and she gently rubbed the nub. She slid her finger in between her folds and felt herself starting to get wet. She slipped a finger inside of herself and moaned. Her other hand moved down to rub her clit. She tried to find the right rhythm. When she had it, she picked up the pace. She imagined Draco moving inside of her, hard and fast, looking at her with those cool grey eyes made warm with lust for her. When she climaxed, she called out his name. Sighing, she turned over, inhaling his scent one more time. She got dressed and washed her hands; then she picked up her attaché case and left without looking back.
By the time he got back to his office Draco was bone-weary. He had been tracking the last members of the sex ring; they were proving more elusive than he would have thought imaginable. He'd been mixing with the seedy underbelly of the magical community for the last five months, and the darkness had taken a toll on him. He had lost weight. He went back to his office to put his memories into the Pensieve before going home and collapsing, and it was then that he heard the moan coming from the other room.

Tired or no, he instantly went on alert. He pulled out his wand and walked stealthily to the bathroom. What he saw just about undid him. There was Hermione on the bed, touching herself and making soft noises. Draco started to pant. It took all his strength to not go to her and fuck her senseless. He saw when she was about to come and heard when she cried out his name. He was frozen in place, unbelieving that she would come here to touch herself and think of him. He dove into the shadows when she moved. He heard her wash her hands and walk towards the shadowy recess where he was hiding. She walked right past him, picked up her belongings, and left.

He slumped and took a deep breath, then walked unsteadily to his desk to sit down. He had to focus and then he could think about her. He got back up and retrieved the Pensieve and deposited the night's events into it. Then he put it back and walked into the room with the bed. He lay out on it, inhaling where Hermione had been. It smelled slightly of her and of him, their scents mingling. He ran a hand across his face. It had been a long six months. He kept telling himself he'd done the right thing. She had been vulnerable after the torture; by taking himself out the picture he had allowed her to return to Potter and continue in the happy delusion of their love. He had become bitter, having possessed her and then having to give her up. He'd tried being with other women, like before, but somehow the release was never enough to satisfy him. So he had thrown himself into his work, putting all his aggression and anger into one cause. Two months after Hermione's ordeal he had destroyed the whole sex-slave operation except for the two main operators. They had gotten away and he'd been tracking them for the last four months.

He dreamed of Hermione constantly. He was disgusted with himself for letting her have this power over him. He longed for the nights when he was so exhausted he fell into a dreamless sleep. He found himself searching the papers, waiting to hear the announcement of her marriage to Potter. Draco had convinced himself that Hermione would forget about him as soon as she went back to Potter, but obviously she hadn't. He smirked with satisfaction. At least he wasn't the only one suffering. He wanted her, and after what he'd seen tonight he didn't know if was going to be able to keep his distance. As he got up from the bed he noticed an earring on the pillow. She had lost one. He picked it up and put it in his pocket.
Two weeks later Hermione and Harry were picking out their wedding cake. "Harry, I don't like lemon frosting; how about buttercream?" Harry looked at her and threw up his hands. "Why bother asking me when you know you're just going to do what you want?" His words held no heat, but he was serious.

"How about I pick out the type of cake and you can choose the shape and design?" He was talking, but Hermione couldn't hear him. She suddenly felt cold and her body tingled. Her vision started to narrow. She heard Harry say her name, and then everything went dark.

When she came to Harry was holding her and looking down at her with great concern. "Hermione, love, how are you feeling?" She sat up slowly.

"I feel fine. I don't know why I fainted." Harry pulled her to her feet. The baker handed her a cup of water and she sipped it. "I haven't eaten today, that's probably why."

Harry didn't look convinced. "I want you to go see a Healer." Hermione made a token protest but she knew she wouldn't win. Harry was extremely stubborn.

"Okay, fine." She insisted that she was feeling fine and they should finish their business and then go home. After they left the shop and returned home, Harry demanded she get into bed. She decided to humor him, as she was feeling rather tired. He brought her some tea and sat on the bed with her.

"Hermione, we need to talk." She looked at him over the rim of mug, afraid of what he was going to say.

"What happened when you were gone for those two weeks? Ever since you returned you've been different. I feel like you're hiding something from me. How did you get those scars on your back?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. She didn't want to hurt him, so she told him half-truths. "I went undercover to bust a group of wizards that were trafficking in Muggle women. I was captured and whipped. I'm just glad to be home. I'm sorry if I've been distant."

His eyes clouded over when he heard about her being captured. "I was told you would never be in direct danger."

"Harry, this job is dangerous, you knew that. You can't put me in a box and keep me locked away."

He sighed. "You're right, but if anything ever happened to you I don't know what I'd do. Is it safe to assume that whoever captured you is...taken care of?" Hermione smiled and pulled him to her. She kissed him softly, willing him to accept what she said and be happy with it.

He pulled back. "Why don't you say my name any more?" Hermione shifted her eyes away. "Is there someone else?"

Her heart skipped several beats. Should she tell him? Would he forgive her? Once again she told half-truths. "No, Harry, there isn't anyone else. It's just that I realized some things about our relationship."

He frowned. "Bad things? Do you not want to be with me any more?"

She grabbed his hand. "No, that's not what I'm saying; only that—do you think maybe we put too much pressure on each other, being the other's whole world?"

Harry pulled away and went and leaned against the dresser. "I love you, Hermione—for heaven's sake, I asked you to marry me! Am I not supposed to make you my world?"

Damn, this wasn't what she'd had in mind when she said that. She tried to think of the best way to defuse the situation.

"No, what I'm trying to say is that it's not fair to pin our all happiness on one another. Don't you ever feel like maybe we've tried too hard to make our love perfect?"

Harry looked at her like she'd grown two heads. "I'm not going to apologize for the fact that you are my world and you're what brings me the most happiness in this world. Our love was perfect, Hermione. What's caused you to believe that it isn't any more?"

He left the room without waiting for an answer, and she heard the front door slam. She covered her eyes with her arm. Well, that had gone well. Good thing she hadn't told him about Draco. He'd be telling her to get the hell out of his house.

She got up to go to the bathroom. Halfway there she started to get the cold, clammy, tingling feeling again. This can't be good, twice in one day. She made a mental note to make an appointment to see a Healer tomorrow. She felt so tired. She crawled back into bed and closed her eyes.
Harry sat at the bar drinking, trying to think what could possibly have caused Hermione to start questioning their love. It was perfect—they were perfect together. Their love was pure and gentle. It was then that it clicked, exactly what Hermione was trying to say. Yes, that was a lot of pressure, trying to live up to perfect, pure love. Would it even matter, though, unless something had happened to make it less pure? It took a lot out of him to always keep her from seeing his dark side. He didn't want to scare her.

He wasn't perfect; he'd slept with another girl a couple of weeks before he'd asked Hermione to move in with him. He had kept it from her, afraid she would leave him and he would be lost without her. He had just been so lonely and drunk and needed someone to fill that empty space, even if only for a little while, but he had regretted it instantly. Was Hermione trying to tell him she'd made a mistake too? The thought of her with someone else tore him apart. In all fairness he couldn't blame her if in those two weeks she'd found comfort with someone other than him. He just had to go back to her and tell her that he understood what she'd been trying to tell him, that she was right. No love was perfectly pure and unblemished, it was messy; but he was willing to take any form of love she had to offer because in the end, she was his world.

The next day Hermione sat in a room at St. Mungo's waiting to see a Healer. A plump witch came in and asked her some probing questions, then left again briefly. She came back and drew blood. Hermione just thought she would do a little charm and send her on her way, but as the witch was leaving she told Hermione she could put her robes back on and she would be back in a few minutes after she'd run some tests. In ten minutes she came back. She sat down across from Hermione and took her hand.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger but it seems you have a rare genetic disorder. It is just now starting to manifest itself, hence the fainting and fatigue. There is no cure for it in the magical or Muggle community. Your best prognosis is two to three years. I'm really very sorry." Hermione was reeling. This couldn't be happening to her. She and Harry had been through so much. Life wasn't supposed to be this cruel.

"Ms. Granger, do you understand what I'm saying to you? Do you need me to owl someone?" Hermione shook her head and got up.

"Thank you." She walked out, not really seeing anyone or hearing anything. What was she to do?
AN: I bet you didn't see that coming, did you? Okay, so now I'm trying to decide whether to end it in the next chapter or end it on a nice even number. For sure there will be more angst (oh how I love it), smut and a few more plot twists. I'll say now that I'm not promising a happy ending. You remember different endings more than happy and that's my goal. Thank you for reading.
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Cast No Shadow