Chapter 20 That's my girl, keep out of sight, Draker commanded
to Hermione much more aggressively than he had
intended, and she blanched slightly.
He offered her no more comfort, instead just turning on his heel
and following Poppy to the ward boundary.
He knew he'd been distant with her these past weeks, and it had
not escaped his notice that she was less than thrilled about the
cooling off of his affections, but it was safer that way.
He had studied with her in The Cave when his double life
allowed it, and had maintained an amicable if not mechanical
partnership in social hours. Had escorted her to her chambers
every evening with a late kiss on the forehead.
This was all he could do. This was all that was safe.
The closer he got to her, the more she painted her golden glow
over every surface and fissure of his mind, and the harder it
was to hide how deep his feelings for her were from the
Dark Lord. That's what he told himself, at
least. It was mostly the truth.
Drago exited the Manor at the front and travelled the path
down to the gates, freshly discarded leaves crunching
beneath his boots. Behind the iron bars just beyond
the ward boundary lines, Avery and Mulsiba stood with Theo.
Draco skipped to breath momentarily.
What is this play, Mr. Malfoy? Avery said with a polite short
bow as Draco approached. What do you mean by turning up
to my home unannounced? Avery scowled Draco, his
expression sharp and unyielding. I would be shocked to learn that
the regime's new blood sharing mandate has caused you to
abandon the pure blood etiquette you've so vehemently championed
over the years. I brought them, Sir.
Said Theo. Seriously.
Just give them a moment of your time.
I think you'll be open to what they have to say.
Wonderlessly, Draco cast himself into Theo's mind.
Are you fucking serious? Draco seethed.
They were going to come here anyway.
With firepower. Theo's internal machinations
were tinged with desperation. Very well.
Draco responded dully, and with a flourish of his wand.
The gates opened temporarily, granting the interlopers access.
Please follow me. Do not disturb the birds or the
house elves. Avery and Mulsiba shared a scowl
while Draco spun around, cloak swishing with the early autumnal
breeze, and headed into the Manor toward the new sitting
room, hoping that Hermione had made herself scarce.
Mercifully, she appeared to have listened to him for once.
Right, what is this about? Draco asked once the sitting
room door had been closed on the four men.
Avery and Mulsibur adjusted their cloaks and stood shifterly
by either side of the door to the back garden, shielding
themselves from outside view. Theo clattered some glasses
together by the beverage cabinet and began pouring a round of
Draco's finest Scotch. He resisted the tempting eye
roll. Well, Malfoy.
Avery cleared his throat, which, to Draco's amusement, had been
causing him some problems since the Prophet raid.
As you're sure to be aware, many among us have been less than
thrilled with the new political direction of late.
Draco sniggered silently into the Scotch that Theo had just
handed him. No, he said with mock
astonishment. That's news to me.
Don't be a cunt, Mulciba snarled.
Fine, fine. Draco surrendered and took a
casual seat on the piano stool. Not here tells us you'd be open
to hearing what we have to say, but we'd like your assurances
that this conversation will go no further than these walls.
Hmm. So long as he doesn't pry.
Drako granted. Well, that's the thing.
Avery added, crossing his arms over his chest.
We also reckon your mental talents stretch to keeping him
away from that. Drako gave Theo a daggered look,
who held his hands up. They needed to know how you
could be trusted, right? So considering Mr. Nott here has
shared a number of my secrets, please enlighten me without a
preamble as to what you want. The only sound in the room for a
moment was the ticking of the grandfather clock before Malsaba
took a step forwards. We want you on our side to take
out the Dark Lord. September 1st, 1998 afternoon,
Malfoy Manor. Run it by me again, said
Hermione, frustratedly, fiddling with the clasp of her golden
celestial gown behind her neck. Ah, she grunted, annoyed.
A subset of Death Eaters are planning an assault on the
school at the Welcoming Feast tonight, said Draco, who had at
first been watching her struggle with what looked like resistant
restraint, as though he were afraid to touch her.
He had certainly been showing caution any moment they got
closer than an arm's length these recent weeks.
Here, let me help, He finally offered, moving to her back so
that they were both facing the armoire mirror, and he helped
fasten her in. Why didn't you call for Greta?
He asked, brows tight in jaw set.
Draco, you might be fine with slaves waiting on you hand and
foot, but where I can exercise my own will without causing
offence to the staff, I'd like to take care of myself.
I think you'll find Gretta and Poppy still take offence at you
not allowing them to make your bed and get you dressed.
They just grumble to one another in their personal time about how
you are systematically stripping them away from their raison
d'etre. Hermione huffed.
He had her there and she hated him for it.
At least Dobby had wanted to be free, but Greta's family unit
was as stubborn as a graphorn on the matter of freedom.
Draco allowed his hands to fall from her neck, smoothing her
golden gown down to her skirt. Goosebumps awoke down her whole
body, she was so starved of his touch.
You haven't kissed me in a week. She said quietly, chest feeling
tight at the admission. He halted and brought his lips
to her cheek, offering a light Peck.
No, Draco. She said, turning to face him,
curls hanging loose and pinned to fall at one side of her neck,
leaving the other exposed. I don't mean like that.
Hermione searched his expression, hunting for the
barest glint of the same knee she felt in her core.
A shadow crossed over his face. Don't lock me out.
Her words were both an invocation and a command.
He took a step back, looking past her to himself in the
mirror, writing his well fitted dress robes in the reflection
with an air of indifference. It's easier this way.
Hermione's shoulders fell along with her heart.
Easier for who? She argued, bringing a hand to
his pale cheek and forcing his mercurial eyes on her.
I'm about to enter the Viper's den for the second time in a
month, the place I once called home, a place I am dulled by
your mother that I will hardly recognize, and you're making me
feel so alone. He closed his eyes and turned
his face away, emotion warring with his rationale.
His weakness is you. It's always been you.
Use that to your advantage. Please don't leave me alone in
this. I need you.
I have no one else. She begged softly, pulse
beginning to quicken. Draco hung his head in mild
surrender. Granger, So what?
It's, it's Granger now. Her voice began to climb, hands
bawling into fists. Stop.
I, I can't do this. Draco rasped, low and quiet.
What can't you do? As she pushed on.
Well, it's a little too late for that, don't you think?
She yelled, hands going to her stomach.
She wanted him to respond, to banter, to battle, but just like
the weeks previous when she had been all alone in his company,
he was retreating in on himself. No, She shouted, pressing 2
hands to his chest with so much force he actually lost his
footing and stepped back. Come on, do something.
She shoved him again, this time he held his ground and still his
expression remained unmoved. Fight me, fight before me.
Hermione's chest heaved, her cheeks felt hot.
Fucking do something. Hermione raised her hand to
strike him across the cheek, but this time his hand shot up to
catch it. He grasped a hold of her and
pulled her into him, chest to chest.
Don't you dare fucking hit me again.
He warned, looking down at her. A crackle of lightning struck
behind his glazed eyes, parting the clouds.
Or what, hmm? She looked at him with fire in
her eyes. This is what she needed to do to
get through to him. What is the big scary Death
Eater going to do? His lips plummeted into hers
with a ferocious hunger, conquering her own, marking his
territory. Her taunt did it, had broken
through the shield he had been holding up against her.
Draker's tongue thrashed against her own, fierce and dominating,
and her body lit up in a blaze of glory, her needy core
screaming with desire to be touched while his hands scoured
every inch of her upper body. He snaked his hands around her
and squeezed her arse while she rubbed a palm against his fresh
erection beneath his robes. He groaned in her mouth.
Fresh waves of desire surged through her, a hand taking her
throat and leading her over to the bed.
Her own gasped married his heavy pants.
Why do you have to be such a fucking brat?
He breathed against her lips in desperation, throwing her
roughly down in a seated position at the edge of the bed.
Hermione quipped back. Why do you have to be such a
fucking Dick? Her dark and ravenous gaze
meeting his. You're making this impossible.
Draco studied her from above. A towering monument of grace and
authority. Hermione dipped her head to the
side and eyed him quizzically, breasts still rising rapidly.
She chewed at her bottom lip. Let me show you just how
impossible. She purred, rooshing up the hem
of her gown, eyes never leaving his.
Draco's expression grew fierce. She didn't know what had gotten
into her, she had never, to her knowledge, been so brazen, but
when she was with him, she felt invincible.
Oh fuck, Granger, what are you doing?
He fucking whimpered. Draco Malfoy whimpered, for her
that was enough to send a mini orgasm through her system.
A teaser. She wasn't wearing any underwear
yet, and so in bringing the dress up to her navel, she
exposed herself fully to him. Pink pussy on show.
Desperate to be touched, Hermione brought her heels to
the edge of the bed and opened her legs a little wider.
Can you see how wet I am for you?
Draco was speechless and she chuckled darkly in her mind,
beginning to trace her fingers along her slick folds.
His Adam's apple bobbed, yet he remained stock still.
She brought 2 fingers to her lips, tasting herself, eyes
closing slowly and seductively. You're going to be the death of
us both. He whispered raggedly, and
Hermione swirled circles around her engorged nub, moaning
lightly, not entirely to wind him up, but also because it felt
so damn good touching herself like this in front of him, for
him. She dipped 2 fingers deep into
her core, curling them towards her to graze against her
favorite spot, the spot she had hit every night for the past
three weeks, thinking of him and his hard cock ramming into her.
Do you understand how hard it is to resist you?
He pleaded, watching her play with herself intently, his cock
so hard it tented against his trousers.
Then stop resisting. She teased, raising up to greet
his stomach and tugging at his robes to pull him closer.
He shuddered at her command. His weakness is you.
A burst of desire bloomed once more all over her body, and he
fell forwards on his knees, watching the place her hand had
just been a moment ago with hungry intensity.
Hermione moved her fingers there again, gore pulsing with
desperation, but he grabbed her wrist and authoritatively placed
it to her side. All right, Miss Grainger.
He began taking a new control of the scene, and her breath
stuttered. No more touching for you, hands
behind your back. You are going to be a good girl,
aren't you? This was the Draco she looked
her. Miley paused that thought in her
mind before it could complete. This is what she'd been needing.
Wanting maybe. She said coyly, playing his game
for the time being and knotting her hands behind her while
holding his gaze. If you're a very good girl and
do as I say, you'll be rewarded. His hands trailed up from her
ankles to the outside of her thighs in light strokes that
sent her hairs deliciously on edge.
But what if I want to be bad? She played back.
Bad girls get punished. Drikko flicked a stern eyebrow
at her. But you want to be a good girl
today, don't you? Hermione bit the inside of her
cheek, anticipation and longing overwhelming her.
He brought a single finger to tease a line from her opening to
her slit and back down all the way to her back entrance.
She gave a little shiver and a gasp in response.
Please, I need you, please, I need you, Sir.
Is what I want to hear you say. Grainger.
He counted. You want to be the good little
girl? You are right.
He brought his face down to the apex of her thighs and nibbled
lightly up one thigh, inching closer and closer to her needy
and dripping cunt. You smell so fucking good.
All she could respond with was a soft, whiny moan.
Oh fuck, the way you sound when you're this desperate.
Sighed Draco, breaking his cool facade for a second.
He placed an edging, delicate kiss to her clit, causing
Hermione to lose it and throw her head back at his slight
touch. He chuckled against her core,
the wisps of his breath sending mini shock waves up her body.
She released her hand to reach for his head, but Draco held his
own hand up to stop her. Ah, ah, ah, he chastised.
Remember your being a good girl tonight, hands behind your back.
She grumbled but surrendered to his request as he brought his
lips down on her once more. He kissed her lightly and
confidently three times from her slit to her nub.
Now he soothed his tongue all the way up her cunt and she
keened back in pleasure. Fuck, Hermione.
He moaned once more, breaking character before gathering
himself together. Are you going to do as you're
told and lie there while I fuck your gorgeous little cunt with
my mouth and fingers? Ye, yes.
She stuttered. Yes, Sir.
Yes, Sir, she repeated, click now throbbing intensely.
She could feel her juices welling between her thighs.
That's my girl. And fuck, she was broken.
Draco took her entirely in his mouth, and with a free son and
frenzy she had not anticipated, he devoured her pussy like she
was his Last Supper. She cried out in relief and
distress at the wave of emotions flooding her system.
Draco Malfoy was eating her out and it was everything she could
have dreamed of and more. Dark and naughty and wrong and
so, so right. He lapped his tongue in all
directions, smothering her core and tasting all the rewards of
his commands. One of his hands crept up to
meet her swollen breasts, so damn tender and only adding to
the climbing pressure within her while he brought 2 fingers to
the edge of her opening. Hermione nudged herself closer
to the tips and Draco stole a breath of air to laugh against
her clit, the vibrations sending her wild trying to top from the
bottom. That is so, Granger.
He chuckled before diving back to suck against her clit.
I wish I could do this every day of my life.
He admitted. You can.
Hermione almost cried as he pushed 2 fingers inside her,
their tips meeting the place she'd been so desperate for his
cock to pound against. Oh fuck.
She screamed. Draco kneaded her breast while
she kept her hands behind her, still so desperate to touch him.
He fucked her cunt with fervor and rhythm, all the while
devouring her wet folds. I'm fuck Sir, I'm going to come.
That's it Granger, that's my girl, she heard inside her mind.
Gum for me, baby. She screamed at his soft praise.
Inside her mind, her climax rose and rose to heights unheard of
pleasure brimming to an unfathomable level.
He was so deep within her, inside her core, her mind, Her
heart. Flashes met her consciousness,
blade, blood, last breaths, and her orgasm broke.
She fell over the edge, flinging her arms free from behind her
and grabbing his head. She grinded her cunt against his
mouth and firm nose while Crimson waves of climax thrashed
within her. Moments that could have been
hours passed while Draco manoeuvred her spent body to a
comfortable spot on the bed, shuffled the skirt of her dress
down and lay against her. After a while, once she had
returned to her body, Hermione said softly to Draco's head in
her lap. They aren't going to achieve
anything, you know. He turned to look up at her,
having been toying with the sequins of her dress in deep
thought. Hmm.
He responded distractedly. She was losing his attention
again, and a small node of loneliness returned to her.
Are the Death Eaters so egotistical that they think they
can subdue Voldemort where the Order have failed?
Draco sat up, concern at moulding his facial features
into a sallow, troubled visage. What role are you hoping to play
in this? Hermione pushed.
The role of the one who lives? Hermione huffed.
What about all the children, Hermione?
This is happening whether we participate in it or not.
Voldemort will fall by Malfoy's wand unless another snips the
thread of fate. She needed to let this happen.
Maybe this is how it was meant to be.
Maybe, she thought to herself while she cleaned herself up
with a scorgify, tamed her hair once more, and Draco excused
himself for a cold shower. Maybe this was how she saved
him. If Voldemort died before
Halloween, perhaps Drako would be safe.
Perhaps then she wouldn't have to kill him after all.