Winning over the Weasleys by Emeralds in the Dark, Chapter
13. You are my happy ending one year
later. Beautiful wedding, Pansy mused,
sipping from her champagne flute.
Mine and blazes will be nicer of course.
Likely wouldn't have gone with the ivory satin linens or the
candelabras. All those excessive hanging
baskets, but still a beautiful wedding.
Ron sank further into his chair as he rattled the last bit of
his gin soaked lemon against the ice.
Around the table, Theo, Blaze, Harry, and Hermione sat watching
as Ginny and Draco finished their first dance.
They looked ridiculous, really, smiling at each other like they
hadn't just thrown the grandest wedding anyone had ever
attended, but rather some intimate, private moment meant
for only the two of them. Ron didn't know much about
weddings, but he figured that if he ever had one, Ginny's and
Draco's would be hard to top. The food was bloody excellent,
the venue looked straight out of 1 of Hermione's romance novels,
and Draco had even managed to book the Weird Sisters as a
surprise. Most people were already well on
their way to being tipsy, Ron included.
He let his eyes drift toward Hermione, and maybe the gin and
tonics weren't helping. She was unbelievable tonight.
Her hair was smoothly curled and looking at her back as if she'd
walked straight out of a dream. She wore a satin, backless
Crimson dress with thin spaghetti straps, and Ron,
having clocked very early in the evening that she wasn't wearing
a bra, was now struggling immensely to not wonder whether
or not she'd gone. Nicholas to match, Which, of
course, was not an appropriate thought to be having at his
sister's wedding. And yet you're not supposed to
say yours will be nicer out loud.
Theo knocked Pansy lightly with his elbow.
I like weddings a bit simpler. Harry chimed in.
More like Bill and Fleurs. Hermione arched a brow.
Before or after the Death Eater raid?
Oh, that was a good one. Theo said, snapping his fingers
as if recalling a fond memory. Tons of wine leftover after you
lot fled. Ron and Harry grimaced.
Pansy grinned. I do wonder.
She turned toward Hermione, flashing her meteoroid sized
diamond. When we can expect another.
Hermione choked on her ring, and Ron, despite the warmth already
blooming in his chest from the alcohol, felt his ears burn.
Pans, yours is quite literally in six months.
Hermione deflected. I know, sweetling.
Pansy drawled. She just enjoys watching you
both clam up every time someone mentions marriage.
Zabini chuckled, draping his arm around his fiancee.
Ron pushed his chair back and held out a hand to Hermione.
She took it swiftly, letting him lead her toward the dance floor
as more couples trickled onto the wooden planks beneath the
twinkling tent in Malfoy's sprawling backyard.
I thought you could use some saving?
He teased as he pulled her in, settling his hand at the base of
her spine, his other hand threaded with hers at their
shoulders. Instinctively, they began to
move In Sync, just as Mcgonigal had painstakingly taught them
years ago. Ronald Weasley saves the day?
Nah. Ron murmured.
I think the correct sentence is Hermione Granger always saves
the day. His palm slid a fraction lower,
the heat of her bare skin beneath his hand made him
thirsty. His eyes cast downward, catching
a glimpse of cushioned bronze curves peeking over the top of
her dress. This woman is trying to kill me.
Have I told you that you look bloody gorgeous tonight?
He praised at her ear. Yes.
She laughed, tutting her head back just enough for her curls
to brush against his cheek about a dozen times.
Ron let his knuckles drag up her back, fingers fondling the
strings at the top of her dress before tugging lightly.
Unfriendly thoughts. He admitted under his breath.
Hermione hummed. I assumed.
She whispered, shifting so her pelvis slotted against his in a
subtle acknowledgement of his want.
I bet there are dozens of empty rooms in the Manor.
He wagered, leaning in closer, watching as another shiver
rolled down her spine. There's a fine one with me,
Ronald. She drew out his name.
You want me to get undressed in Malfoy manner?
You don't think this place owes us a bit of pleasure?
He gulped, stretching out the last syllable.
Just as she squeezed his hand, her nails biting into his skin,
Hermione stepped back, taking both of Ron's hands in hers,
extending her arms as she pulled him off the dance floor.
His blood roared down his tux, watching the silk of her gown
cling to her arse with every sway of her hips.
She led him inconspicuously up the pebbled walkway, heading
toward the east wing of the Manor, the side with the fewest
light spilling from the windows. But as soon as they were out of
sight from the reception tent, Ron yanked on her wrists,
spinning her into him. He was on her in an instant, one
hand in her hair, the other grabbing a generous handful of
her arse. She moaned into his mouth, her
nails finding purchase at his shoulders as his fingers bunched
at the fabric of her dress, his lips moving lower, trailing down
the column of her throat. He sucked over her jugular, then
buried his face between her breasts, kissing the tops of
them both. Hermione gasped, her head
tipping back against the stone. We're still very much in public.
You chose to wear this dress. He smirked against her flesh.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her through a creaky door that
ricocheted as it opened, revealing A harrowing entrance
hall. Their heels clacked against the
marble floors and the sconces punctuated shadows.
Just before Ron pinned Hermione against the nearest portrait.
The frame rattled and the occupant, A stern looking wizard
with an extravagant hat, cleared his throat pointedly.
Ron ignored it. He was too focused on Hermione
biting his bottom lip, her fingers slipping under his
button up as she pushed off his jacket.
But as she fumble with the buckle, Ron took a split second
to glance around. 10 doors lined the hall.
We should find her proper room. Yeah.
He rasped. Hermione stumbled over her dress
and he caught her writing her before kicking open the first
door. Just a dusty China store room.
Rubbish in here. Ron turned back to her with an
unimpressed look. Hermione clapped her hand over
her mouth to stifle a giggle. Still hand in hand, they moved
to the next door. Another let down, this time just
old suits of armour and broken furniture.
I'm starting to think we're in the damp storage wing.
Hermione burst. Ron groaned.
Come on, this way. Hermione grabbed him this time
and shoved him up against an oak door to their left.
Her lips smashed against his, this time with frenzy.
Ron didn't think he had the strength to pull away.
His hands scrambled to hike up the silk until his palm met bare
skin. Ron grunted.
Fucking Nicholas. His hands slid between her
thighs, feasting on the drenched comfort before he pressed 2
inside, curling up into the snug, wet heat of her.
Hermione wind his name into the dim, her forehead pressing
against his as he worked her open, shielding her from any
possible onlookers. I love this.
Ron admitted, his free hand tugging at the satin to free her
breasts. He needed to pop one into his
mouth while his hands curled deeper inside her pussy.
Hermione her whimpered, her hips rocking forward.
Open at the door, Ronald. She gasped.
I don't care what's in there, I need you now.
Still holding onto her waist, he pulled his fingers from his
favorite place in the world. Fumbling with the door handle,
he shoved it open, nearly tripping over Hermione as they
fell inside. His lips were already back on
her neck, hands greedy, his cock thrumming.
I'm going to shag you right on this floor.
He stopped. Hermione stopped.
Everything stopped, because instead of an empty, forgotten
storage room, they were met with a roar of a hearth, the amber
centre of expensive perfume, a sweaty Musk hanging in the air,
and a very bare, very taut arse. Ron's brain refused to process
what he was seeing at first. The broad, beastly looking
shoulders, the spindly legs thrown around a narrow waist,
the grunting, the whimpering, the absolute horror of it all.
A tartan coat was yanked over bare breasts, a heap of white
blonde hair streaked with black flattened against the rug, and
oh, sweet, merciful fucking hell.
Ron locked eyes with his brother Charlie, who moved frantically
to cover to shield a very naked mid.
Fuck Narcissa. Hermione screamed an actual
proper scream. She jumped back into Ron's arms,
clutching at him like she just walked into a mass murder scene.
Ron made an awful strangled noise in the back of his throat,
something between a gag and a choke, his entire body locking
up as he scrambled to slam the door shut.
And for the first time in his entire life, he wished he'd
stayed at the table with Pansy Parkinson instead.
Oh my gods, Oh my gods, Oh my gods.
Hermione was already bolting down the hallway.
Ron, still stunned beyond belief, ran after her.
Hermione, I need you to obliviate me.
He gasped, catching up with her as they sprinted toward the
exit. I know you can do it.
I know you can, and I need you to do this for me.
I cannot live with that memory. Hermione let out a half sob,
half laugh, shaking her head furiously.
What the fuck was that? Was that?
Was that who I think it was? They burst through the doors
into the bitter night air, gulping in the freshness as if
they'd just escaped our house fire.
Ron bent forward, still struggling to breathe, his brain
doing its best to delete the last five minutes.
No, no, it couldn't have been. He said desperately.
Just a family friend who looked a lot like her.
Hermione gaped at him. Ronald.
Ron squeezed his eyes shut. It was her.
Should we tell Malfoy? Hermione whispered.
Ron followed her line back toward the tent, where the
wedding reception was still in full swing.
From here he could see Jinny, her white dress ruffling as
Draco lifted her just as the band transitioned into her
favorite song, an electric guitar thrumming through the
moonlight. We can't tell him.
He muttered. Hermione's jaw dropped.
But it's icky. It would ruin their wedding.
She squeaked. Right, right.
The silence slogged between them as the music played on, the
sounds of celebration moving stagnant into their ears.
Finally, Hermione spoke. Well after the honeymoon, then.
Draco yawned, stretching his muscles, waking up completely
naked as he took in the villa around him.
The thatched roof let in a kaleidoscope of dawn through
every crevice, illuminating the tangle of sheets on the king
size bed. Housekeeping would have a lot of
work ahead of them, not just from the state of the linens,
but from the assortment of vibrators, butt plugs, whips,
gags and every toy imaginable strewn about their sweet.
He'd leave a hefty gratuity beyond the doors.
The hypnotic crash of the ocean lulled him as he found Jinny.
She was floating in their private over water pool, her
hair knotted high on her head, freckles kissed golden by the
morning sun. How had this become his life?
How had he, of all people, ended up marrying a goddess who looked
like she'd fallen straight from Mount Olympus?
He only prayed Zeus wouldn't come looking to drag her back.
It was day three of their honeymoon, but already he knew
he'd never get enough of her. He had rented out the villas
beside theirs to ensure no noise complaints.
Not that silence and Charms and Muffliato weren't an option, but
nothing compared to the freedom of having his wife scream for
him without restraint the night they arrived.
Their wedding night, they barely made it through the front door
before he had had her beneath him.
She was still in her wedding gown when they landed on the
mattress. He had made her keep it on for
the first 3 rounds, his cock buried so deep inside her cunt
while he was lost in layers of tulle, lace and satin.
Mine, he had chanted against her skin or wife with every
desperate thrust. But after hours of denying
himself the taste of her, the sweat of her skin, he had
finally snapped, ripping the bodice, tying her wrists to the
bedpost and using every hole that now belonged to him.
By the time morning came, Jinny was wrecked and radiant in his
arms as room service arrived with diced tropical fruit, fresh
juice, and champagne. Though Draco had half a mind to
send them away, he wasn't done with his wife yet.
He let the pads of his feet hit the wooden deck, continuing his
stretch as he walked. His cock was already stirring to
life, hard and ready, though truthfully he couldn't remember
a moment in the past 72 hours when it hadn't been standing at
attention like the good soldier it was.
Sliding the open glass door, he stepped outside, the morning air
breezy with salt and sun. Jinny looked up at him from the
pool placidly smiling. Good morning, Missus Malfoy,
good morning, Mr. Malfoy. She wriggled her toes in the
water, watching as he took a step forward, then another,
before fully immersing himself. The temperature was a shock
against his heated skin as he waded into the pool and pulled
her into his arms. His lips found her neck, then
her jaw, then her mouth. What would you like to do today?
Kayak, snorkel, a private helicopter tour, spa, anything.
He peppered kisses along her collarbone between suggestions.
Jinny hummed, tilting her head as though considering.
The spa sounds nice. Perhaps the massage rooms?
I hear there's an option where your partner can give you the
treatment themselves. Draco grinned as she splashed
into his lap, shifting until her bare bum pressed against his
groin. Is that what you want?
He encouraged. Want your doting husband to oil
up your tits and ass, give you a happy ending?
Jinny giggled. You are my happy ending.
Sweet girls get rewarded. Draco bit her shoulder lightly.
I'll book the treatment after breakfast, perhaps we can try
the restaurant instead of each other this evening.
He joked. I'm going to need to regain some
strength, add a bit of protein. Jinny rolled her eyes, laughing
as she stood up, water sloshing around her.
She stretched her arms over her head.
Her breasts bounced with the movement, droplets running down
her ABS before settling into the dip of her stomach.
Drake, who groaned under his breath.
She had to know what she was doing.
Oh, get dressed. She said, stepping out of the
pool and toweling off without a second glance.
She sauntered toward the bedroom, hopefully to slip into
one of those barely there cover ups he loved.
Draco glanced down, squeezing his cock in warning.
Down, boy. After breakfast, hand in hand,
Jinny and Draco were led to cross a planked bridge to
another building. Once they were checked in, the
attendant handed them waffled robes and guided them into a
tranquil treatment room. A single bed sat in the centre,
with floor to ceiling windows showcasing the atoll hideaway
where the turquoise water stretched endlessly beyond the
horizon. Peaceful music played in the
background, blending with the distant whoosh of waves.
As soon as the attendant left, Jinny stripped off her robe
before climbing onto the massage bed completely bare.
Lying face down, she wiggled her arse enough to make it jiggle.
He turned toward the small wooden stand where the attendant
had left an assortment of oils. His fingers hovered before
selecting one that smelled of freshly peeled oranges.
Walking back, he ran his fingers along the small gap between her
thighs. This might be a bit cold Red.
He warned, tilting the bottle and letting droplets rain down
over her back, her shoulders, the bend of her arse and the
length of her thighs, marking every inch he intended to
worship. With his hands, Draker pressed
the heels of his palms against her back, dragging them down and
up. His biceps flexed with the
motion as he worked through the knots along her spine, rolling
tension out of her muscles. Jinny moaned into the pillow.
The sound vibrating into that primal need.
His eyes wandered downward, catching the way her shining
cunt peeked at him beneath her cheeks.
It would be so easy to spread her open and take her right
there. But he continued to knead her
shoulders and relinquish the built up pressure.
Ah yes, right there. Jinny whined as his thumbs dug
beneath her shoulder blade, then glided back along her spine.
Lifting his left hand, he brought it down in a smack
against her arse, watching as the oil dripped.
His cock bobbed beneath his robe, hard and aching.
As Jinny moaned, Draco slipped her hand between her legs,
rubbing his fingers 1st through the puckered entrance, then
plunging into her already soaked cunt.
Draco. She whimpered.
Cold. She added as she realised he had
pumped both his signet ring and wedding ring inside her.
Warm them up for me love. He spread 1 cheek open to watch
the metal of his rings disappear into her pink.
Then he spit in her tight little hole, slicking it before dipping
his thumb into her arse, stretching her open until both
her entrances were filled. Jinny hissed at the intrusion,
but she didn't stop him. She never did.
She let him take her, let him open her up, let him prepare her
for what they had both known was coming.
Because he wasn't stopping, just at his fingers.
By the time he mounted her, he'd have her gaping, oiled up and
ready to take him, every inch, every thrust, splitting her open
as he slid between her two holes, fucking her until she was
coated with his spent. It was their honeymoon.
Decency had no place here. Will you open your mouth for me?
Draco asked. Yes.
She whimpered. Draco moved around to the front
of the massage table where Jenny's head hung through the
open faced cradle. He threaded his fingers through
her hair, keeping her in place as he loosened his robe.
Adjusting his stance, he positioned himself, his height
aligning so that when he stepped forward, his cock would be
waiting for her parted lips. Open.
He commanded. Jinny obeyed, her mouth parting
just in time for him to thrust forward, his cock sinking into
her throat. He groaned, gripping the edge of
the table for leverage as he rolled his hips.
With his other hand. He continued working his palm
over her oiled shoulders as she pacified herself on his length.
He was on the balls of his feet, feeding her mouth while she
hollowed her cheeks, her tongue pressing along the underside of
his cock. The damned witch would be the
end of him if she kept swallowing him down like this.
He wouldn't have a chance to put his seed where it truly
belonged. Suck your husband's cock, love.
Good fucking wife, he praised. He rooked deeper, waiting for
that inevitable gag. The moment where her throat
clenched and she moaned around him, it sent fire licking down
his spine. Draco dropped to the arches of
his feet, pulling back, watching his cock fall from her swollen
lips with a sinful squelch. Philip.
He ordered. Jinny rolled onto her back,
mascara smudged, her lips glistening with spit, her chest
rising and falling as she looked up at him through hooded eyes.
Draco stepped back, raking his eyes over her as he picked up a
bottle of oil. Tilting it, he let golden
droplets sprinkle over her stomach, the swell of her tits
watching as they glistened on her flushed skin.
One hand was already too greedy, his fingers slipping over her
nipples, rolling them between his fingertips.
Jinny jolted into his touch, pressing herself into his grasp
as he gave 1 sharp pinch. He glided down her oiled
expanse, dipping between her legs and parting her folds.
His fingers slid into her, his thumb finding her clit, rolling
it. He knew exactly how she liked
it, how she writhed when he flicked it, when he worked her
swollen bud between two fingers. Such a beautiful cunt, Draco
murmured. Do you know how much I love to
see it stretched open? The way it wraps around me,
clinging to my cock, pushing me out, pulling me back in.
Jinny moaned. I need it.
Draco chuckled darkly. Patience.
He didn't stop his ministrations, fingers delving
deeper before he dipped his head down his mouth, replacing his
hand. His tongue pulsed over her clit,
tasting as her arousal emulsified with the bright
citrus oil. She was spreading herself for
him, offering herself up like the sweetest feast.
I'm off the potion. Jinny panted.
And I don't plan on using the charm.
Every muscle in his body went rigid as his head snapped up,
eyes locking onto hers. What?
His throat was suddenly drier than the sand outside there
villa. I'll stop taking the potion the
week before the wedding. She whispered.
And we never use the charm. She trailed her fingers between
her thighs. Her diamond wedding ring
piercing under the morning light.
Do you want to fill me up, Daddy?
Draco hoisted himself onto the massage table, legs wobbling
beneath him as he tried to position himself between her
thighs. There wasn't much room for
angling, but he made do, hooking one of her legs over his
shoulder while his other hand gripped her arse, lifting her
just enough to align his cock with her entrance.
Now more than ever, he was determined to pump inside her,
determined to claim her in the way she'd just begged for.
With one lunge, he buried himself to the hilt.
His head bounced on the strength of his neck, eyes rolling back
as she clenched around him. Fuck.
He had plans to come in every hole before this massage was
over, but for the rest of their honeymoon, he would be
singularly focused on filling one.
Fuck yes, love, this is what I wanted.
He groaned. To impregnate my wife.
Jinny muled as he bent her into oblivion, her legs wrapped
around his neck, her nails clawing into his back.
Right there, Draco, right there. She begged.
Draco obliged, angling his hips and lifting her to the side,
driving into her at that angle, the one that always made her
soak the sheets. His hand, still sleek, flashed
over her clit as he chased her orgasm.
The table complained under their weight, legs creaking as if they
were seconds away from snapping in half.
But even if it did, it wouldn't stop him.
Give it to me, he growled, slamming into her pelvis,
smacking against flesh. Give me what I want.
Ginny's body was taut, trembling, her eyes quaking
around him, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted.
A cry tore from her throat as she squirted all over his ABS
and chest. Draco didn't stop.
Her body was still convulsing, still seizing around him as he
kept thrusting, kept taking. Fill me.
Draco cursed, his hold on her strengthening as his vision went
white. Gods, make me a daddy.
He groaned, his entire body shuddering as he emptied himself
inside of her. Five unsteady thrusts, each one
deeper than the last as he forced his seed to take before
his body went limp. Long after their sun drenched
nap, a booze fuelled dinner, and in another 2 rounds that left
Draco shooting blanks, they sprawled across their lounger,
watching the sunset crystallize over the horizon.
Jinny rested against him, his fingers harping down her arms,
his chin nestled against the side of her neck.
They sat in silence, growing together like entwined roots.
I don't want to go back to reality.
Ginny sighed. We don't have to.
Draco pressed a kiss to her temple.
We could keep travelling, hop from beach to beach.
If you wish. Ginny hummed, though the
wistfulness in her voice was laced with realism.
My wish. But I'm already missing two
matches and six practices. Plus, considering I'm about 80%
Malfoy DNA at this point, I'll likely go home pregnant and be
out next season. Draco tapped her knee.
Which is exactly what I'm trying to do.
She rolled her eyes, but grinned.
Then, as if a thought struck her, she turned.
Did you notice how frantic Hermione and Ron were about as
coming over when we got back? Practically insistent.
Draco groaned. He flipped her onto her stomach,
running his palm down her spine. I do not want to think about
either of them while I'm on a week long mission to ravish my
wife. Jinny exhaled.
You're right, probably nothing to worry about.
Nothing to worry about? Draco echoed, sealing the
thought with a lingering kiss. She still tasted like the
meringue from dessert. Draco.
She pushed his face up, guiding his stare back to hers.
Her skin was peached, and new freckles scattered across every
inch of her. Draco took to stray strand
behind her ear. Red.
I'm glad you became obsessed with me, regardless of how
alarming it was at first. She teased.
You could have fallen in love with anyone, Pansy.
Astoria. Hermione, perhaps?
She wriggled, the corners of her eyes crinkling.
Draco scoffed, shaking his head as his thumbs wiped over her
lips. I'm sure in every universe it
was always you. You think every universe?
He pictured the life she teased him about, one where he had
ended up with someone else, and felt nothing but emptiness at
the thought. I'm positive every single one.
Thank you for listening to Winning Over the Weasleys by
Emeralds in the Dark, narrated by me, Briar and 10s.
If you really enjoyed this work, which I hope that you did
because I absolutely loved it, please don't forget to give the
author a big fat wet kudos over on AO3 and I'll see you soon.