Disillusionment | By : Monddame Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9839 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings. Not that it wouldn't be nice. |
Lucius strode into the main library of Malfoy Manor with purpose. Surveying the seating area in front of the grand fireplace, he selected a plush armchair off to the side of the lavish hearth in view of the other pieces of furniture, but just outside the flickering light emitted by the crackling fire. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he settled into the chair to wait in the dusky silence of the vacant room.
Despite how many times he had reminded his errant son of his duties to the family in the seven years since he had graduated, Draco seemed intent on sleeping his way through the female population of Wizarding Britain one witch (and occasionally two witches) at a time. Any time Lucius or his wife brought up marriage or the necessity of producing an heir, the infuriating boy would mumble nonsensical fripperies about ‘finding the right girl’ and ‘having plenty of time’ and just lately ‘having it under control’. But Lucius was not content to sit back and let Draco philander while his rivals were snatching up the best bridal candidates left, right and center.
And so, he was determined to discover the identity of his son’s latest tart, whose identity was, quite unusually, being kept a closely guarded secret and had been for the several months Lucius had been aware that he was seeing her. If the girl was acceptable, Lucius planned on approaching her father himself and joining forces, so to speak, in pushing their children to wed. If she was not, he would see to it personally that the girl realized it was in her best interest to ‘go away’ and leave Draco to find a worthier partner. Invisibly scowling, he waited for the scene to play out.
After nearly an hour of patient, predatory waiting, Lucius was roused from his dark contemplations by the arrival of his son. Barefoot and carrying a book, Draco entered the library with aplomb, closing, locking, and warding the doors behind him, including a silencing charm. With one raised eyebrow, Lucius stalked his son with his eyes as the boy settled himself on the couch facing the fire, settling his reading glasses on his patrician face and opening the book to a random page in the middle. She would arrive by Floo, then.
Naught but a scant five minutes later, Lucius heard the whooshing harbinger of the flames announcing the girl’s entrance. Restraining the urge to jump up and descend on the pair immediately, his muscles clenched in silent anticipation. His self-possession was sorely tested by the sight that greeted him next.
Brushing a bit of ash off the heather-colored, obviously muggle garment she wore which was an odd cross between a man’s shirt and a bathrobe was none other than the bushy-haired swot, Hermione Granger.
This had to be some sort of mistake.
Barely containing an outraged gasp of surprise, Lucius’ eyes flew to his son, whose countenance betrayed nothing; not surprising, given he had been trained to mask his emotions from an early age. The girl’s next words swiftly disabused him of the notion that she had turned up at Malfoy Manor by some cosmic error.
“Merlin, Draco, you know what seeing you in those glasses does to me.” Her voice was playful, and yet revealed a slight huskiness of arousal.
The older man’s gaze swung back to his son to see a self-satisfied smirk spread across his face. Carefully, removing his glasses and placing them on the table to the right of the couch with his wand and the book he had been reading, Draco spread his arms across the back of the couch and canted his head to one side, still wearing that smirking smile.
“I think I have a vague idea, but maybe you can make it clearer to me.”
With a low, throaty laugh, the girl, who Lucius noted was also barefoot, sauntered her way from the fireplace to the spot on the couch where Draco was sitting. Lifting a knee to rest on the couch, she balanced herself with her hands on his shoulders as she swung the other leg up on the other side, straddling him. Running her palm down his left arm, she drew his hand to the inside of her thigh, running it up, underneath her dress.
“This is what it does to me.” She whispered to him, pressing her lips against his in a searing kiss.
Lucius tried not to shift in his discomfort. When had the little know-it-all become such a seductress? He certainly hadn’t intended to witness any private moments between his son and his current lover, but now, he found himself in a situation that completely shocked him into a stupor. He hadn’t recovered from his surprise at the girl’s identity before the added astonishment of her bold sensuality. Just as he was beginning to gather his wits, his thoughts blurred back into a kind of buzzing white noise at the sound of a feminine moan escaping her pouty pink lips as she threw her head back in rapture.
“And you know how much I like it when you don’t wear knickers, you Siren.”
From his position by the fire, Lucius couldn’t see much of anything, but by the subtle movements of Draco’s arm and the noises the girl was making, he could guess at what was happening.
“If you like that, then you’re sure to love this.” Her voice was breathy as she removed her hands from his shoulders to tug at the sash tied around her waist.
A large part of Lucius’ brain was yelling at him to do something, anything. If he was disinclined to bring a halt to the current situation and thereby embarrass all three of them, then at least he could remove himself from its presence. He wouldn’t be able to open the doors and escape without notice, but at least he could go into the stacks of the library and cast a silencing charm around himself to keep from witnessing it.
“Oh, gods.” His son groaned as the witch in his lap opened the overlapping folds of her garment, holding them out to the sides of her body. His face dove forward into her chest and she moaned again. Apparently, she wasn’t wearing anything under that slip of fabric that passed for a dress.
The unfrozen part of his brain that wasn’t screaming for his immediate flight, a very small, very male portion, was frustrated beyond belief that from his angle he couldn’t see any part of the girl writhing in his son’s lap apart from her arms below the elbow and her legs below the knee. As if responding to his aggravation, Draco’s hands slid up over the girl’s shoulders and pushed the dress down, away from her body baring the smooth, pristine expanse of her naked back to the horrified, aroused man in the corner. She returned the gesture by unbuttoning a few of the buttons on his shirt and pulling it over his head, running her hands down his pale, muscled chest.
“Let me do this the right way, hmm?” Draco wrapped his arms around the girl and executed a little spin, depositing her on the couch and kneeling in front of her on the plush carpet.
Lucius tried to close his eyes, to look elsewhere, but his gaze kept being drawn back to the pair in front of him. There was something overwhelmingly sensual and private about the scene that would have had him blushing, if he were capable of such a thing; and not just the sight of the girl’s exposed breasts or his son’s head buried between her legs. The look in her eyes and the way her fingers caressed his hair lovingly as she whispered encouragements and moaned in ecstasy reminded him of his sweet Narcissa for some insane, incomprehensible reason. When her body began to shudder and her eyes could no longer remain open from the onslaught of pleasure, her lips parted and he realized what it was.
“I-I love you Draco.”
The words were hardly more than a whisper, but they slammed into Lucius’ ears like a Caterwauling Charm. This…this…girl loved his son. She loved him. His brain filled with static once more and he was further rooted to his chair, barely registering his son’s reply.
“I love you too, Hermione. More and more, every day.”
Sitting up on his knees, Draco leaned forward, covering the still trembling girl with his body, slanting his lips over hers as he tenderly kissed her. Long moments passed in which Lucius could do nothing but sit there, stunned.
Presently, the girl pushed Draco back, tugging him to his feet as she rose from the couch. She slid his pants down his hips and they puddled on the floor as she turned him around and pushed him gently back onto the couch. Straddling him once more, she positioned his erection at her entrance and sank down onto him with a pleasure-filled sigh. As they began to move together, Lucius was overcome by the sight. It was erotic, certainly. But more than that, he was struck by the absolute beauty of their connection.
Naturally, this girl was not the partner he would have picked for his son, even taking the tempering his views on blood purity had gone through after the war into consideration. She was decidedly middle-class, lacked taste, was stubborn beyond belief, and thought a great deal too highly of house elves. But seeing the way the pair of them looked at each other, the way they touched as they made love, hearing the gentle words of devotion they shared, Lucius could not ignore the way their magic seemed to pull them together.
Yes, she was middle-class and lacked tasted, but she was also alarmingly brilliant. And her stubbornness drove her determination to succeed in whatever she set her mind to. If he could just get her to leave the damn house elves alone, he was sure that Narcissa could educate the girl in the finer points of upper class living. Plus, she was a celebrated war heroine in favor with the entire Wizarding world for helping defeat the Dark Lord, after all. Such an astonishing degree of celebrity was nothing to take lightly. Perhaps he might not have chosen her for Draco himself, but all things considered, she wasn’t an all together bad choice.
Distracted by his thoughts, he only half heard the moaning and ecstatic cries that filled the space as Draco once more pushed the girl over the edge before following her himself. They lay in spent silence for several moments, until Lucius began to get quite anxious to leave so that he might pace the floor of his study in contemplation over how exactly to handle this new development. A movement caught his attention and his eyes were drawn to Draco’s pale arm reaching over to the side table to retrieve his wand and the book he had brought in with him. With a tap, he returned the transfigured book back into the small, velvet box that it had been before returning his wand to the table. The girl let out an amused huff and batted him playfully on the chest.
“Draco, I told you that you don’t have to buy me fancy jewelry. I don’t even have a place to wear most of the things you’ve given me already.”
“I know you have, love, but I also know that despite your protests your eyes light up when I give them to you, and that pleases me. Besides,” he kissed the tip of her nose, placing the box in her hand, “this is from the family vault, so I didn’t spend a knut on it.” With another little huff and a peck on his lips she opened the box.
“Oh!”
Lucius could clearly see what was in the box held in her trembling hand; and Draco was right, he wouldn’t have had to pay a knut for it because it had been purchased by Lucius’ own father. Nestled in the green velvet lining was his mother’s diamond engagement ring.
“I love you more than I have ever loved anything in this whole world. You are beautiful and brilliant and I can’t imagine a life without you. Will you marry me, Hermione?”
He couldn’t see her face, but the girl’s entire body was quivering as was her voice, muffled against his neck when she threw her arms around Draco.
“Yes, yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Draco laughed heartily, a sound Lucius didn’t often get to hear, as the girl…Hermione peppered kisses all over his face. Unwrapping her arms from around his neck, he pulled the ring from the box and slid it onto her left hand where they both admired it.
“Stay with me tonight?”
“Of course.” Sweetly, she presses her lips to his as she ran her fingers through his hair once more.
Draco and Hermione stood, quickly donned what little clothing they had been wearing and exited the library, hand in hand, Belladonna Malfoy’s ring sparkling on her little finger.
As if finally released from a Petrificus Totalus, Lucius jumped to his feet and rushed out of the room desperately needing his dear wife; and not just to relate the very exciting, however unexpected, scene he had just witnessed.
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