Chapter 4 : In Good... hands
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 65|
Background: Font color:
“Where are you going?” The little girl asked while stuffing some clothes into her tiny overnight bag.
“I’m just going out, and I won’t be home until very late and I can’t leave you here by yourself.”
“Can I come too?”
“No Isabelle, not this time. Are you almost ready to go? It’s already noon.” He said.
“Yeah.” She replied. Draco held her small hand in his large one as they walked to the park. When they arrived, he sat her down on the soft green grass before letting her run off.
“No fighting, understand? I don’t want to have to pull you off of someone again. Keep your hands to yourself.” He said sternly.
“No buts young lady. Have fun, but not at someone else’s expense. Do you hear me?”
“Yes sir.” She said in a bored tone.
“Alright, go on now.” She dropped her bag and tore off across the park towards where all the other children were congregating. After she had gone to play, Draco started searching for Hermione. He sat down on a bench and let his eyes casually scan the park. He looked it over twice, but couldn’t find her. He waited, and five minutes later her heard the *pop* of someone apparating. He turned his head towards the direction the sound came from, and he saw Hermione putting Nicky down and kissing him on the forehead before letting him go off. She opened up a large tote bag she had brought with her and pulled out a blanket. Unfolding it and spreading it out on the grass, she then gracefully sat down and stretched her legs out in front of her, leaning back on her hands. He watched her for a while, just observing her movements. She got bored watching the little kids, so she pulled out a thick book from her bag. Finding her page, she began reading. That was his signal. He got up from his bench and walked over to where she sat on her blanket.
“Is this seat taken?” He asked her, pointing to the unoccupied spot of blanket next to her. She raised an eyebrow but did not look up from her book. Seeing no signs of objection, he sat down next to her. “Wonderful weather we’re having.” He said informally.
“Mm hmm.” Was all he got out of Hermione.
“So what position does Nicky play?” He asked politely.
“Chaser.” She said simply, still not taking her eyes off of the book. She turned the page.
“Oh. Isabelle plays seeker. Just like I did.”
“I know.” She replied.
“Go out with me tonight.” He said, looking intently at her face.
“What?” She dropped the book into her lap and looked at him.
“Go out with me tonight.” He repeated. Hermione stared at him blankly. Blinking a couple times she was finally able to unfreeze her brain.
“Oh. I’m sorry I can’t. I have other plans.” She picked up her book again. He scooted a bit closer.
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not. I really do have a previous engagement.” She said seriously.
“Tomorrow night then.” He suggested.
“I can’t Draco.” She said with a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Fine. Next weekend…”
“Brilliant, next weekend it is.” He kissed her on the cheek quickly and got up and left before she could object. Sighing, she tried to settle back into her book, but the warm tingle on her cheek where his lips had been distracted her. She looked up and saw him sitting on a nearby bench. Isabelle waved to him as she zipped by on her broom, and he smiled and waved back. She brought her hand up to her cheek and lightly caressed it with a feathery touch, hoping that she could someway make the feeling last. If you get back together with him the feeling could last forever. The little voice in the back of her head told her. She closed her eyes for what seemed to be only a moment, but before she knew it she was being dragged out of her daydream by a very persistent poking on her arm. Coming out of her daze she lifted a hand to shield the sunlight from her face, and looked at Nicky who stood looking down at her.
“All set?” She asked him.
“Yeah.” He answered. He helped her pack everything back in to the bag and they apparatede back to their flat.
“Go wash up for dinner please.” She told him. She went in to the kitchen and started dinner. Pointing her wand to a small bag of potatoes, they began to peel themselves. She brought a pot of water to boil and dumped the potatoes in. Next, she pulled out two chicken breasts and sliced one of them into strips, since Nicky liked chicken fingers better than a whole breast. Flouring them, she then stuck them in the over and turned her attention to a head of broccoli. Cutting it up and magically steaming it, she put the cooked broccoli into a nice bowl. Opening the refrigerator, she grabbed a bottle of wine. Pouring herself a small glass (she was not a big drinker) and leaning against the counter, she waited for the chicken and potatoes to be done. She slowly sipped on the wine, and tried to imagine what the evening had in store for her. The timer went off and she was alert again, draining the potatoes and mashing them, she put them in a bowl as well. Next was the chicken. They came out of the over and onto the plates that Hermione had set out for Nicky and herself. Just as she was about to call him to the table, Nicky came ambling in to the dinning room.
“Perfect timing.” Hermione said, pulling his chair out for him. She took her seat across the little table from him. “Napkin please.” She reminded him. He put his napkin neatly on his lap. “Thank you.” She said, watching him. After they had finished, she decided to be lazy and let her magic do the dishes tonight. As Nicky was about to leave for his bedroom, she stopped him.
“Nicky sweetie you’re filthy, let’s get you in the bath before I take you over to Grandma and Grandpa Weasley’s house.” Nicky shed his clothes and ran naked down the hallway to the bathroom where Hermione had drawn him a warm bath.
“Do you need me to help you?” She asked,
“No mummy, I can do it all by myself.”
“Alright then, I will be in my room, just call for me when you’re ready to get out. And don’t forget to use soap.” Hermione instructed. She left him and walked in to her room. Throwing open the wardrobe doors, she stared in to her closet. What to wear… She pondered. Ginny had offered to lend her her red dress, but Hermione had yet to see said dress, and if she new Ginny, it was going to be short, tight, and sexy. When Ginny got dressed up, she would go all out. However, because Ginny was a little bit shorter that Hermione, that meant that a short dress on Ginny would be a micro mini on Hermione. She stood there mulling over the blandness of her wardrobe. Eventually she just pulled out a pair of slim fitting dark jeans and a simple black halter top. Next she had to decide on shoes. Her tango shoes stared at her from their place on the shoe rack, as if saying, “Pick me”. She grabbed the strappy black heels next to them and slammed the wardrobe doors closed. She set her outfit on the bed and began to change. She had just slipped on her last shoe when she heard Nicky calling.
“Muuuuuummm! I’mmm DONE!” He yelled from the bath. She picked up a large fluffy towel from the linen closet on her way, and then poked her head around the corner of the door.
“Yep.” She came in all the way and wrapped him in the towel as he carefully stood up in the tub. Lifting him up and out, she helped him dry off before sending him in to his room to change. Examining herself afterwards, she found it to be a miracle that she only got a few spots of bath water on her clothes, since usually she gets soaked trying to pull the little guy out of the tub. Going back into her room to grab her purse, she contemplated doing something with her hair, which she had just left down. Deciding against it, she shook her head and hurried in to the common room. Nicky was standing next to the fireplace in his pajamas waiting for her. Reaching into the small pot of floo powder, Nicky grabbed a handful and threw it in to the fire. He got in and waited for his mum. She followed him in, and clearly said, “The Burrow”. Knowing his way around the house already, Nicky ran off toward the kitchens to look for more food. As Hermione slowly followed after him, she passed Arthur.
“Don’t let him fool you,” She told him. “He has already had a big dinner no matter what he says.” He chuckled.
“It sounds like we have another Ron in the family.” He said lightheartedly. Hermione laughed.
“Yes, it certainly does.”
“Hermione? That you?” Ginny called down from the top of the staircase.
“Yes, it’s me Gin.” She yelled up.
“Well get on up here, we need to get ready.”
“I’m already ready!”
“Oh no you’re not!” Ginny protested. As Hermione began to ascend the stairs, Arthur touched her arm.
“Have fun tonight. You deserve it.” He said with a kind smile. Hermione gave a modest one back, and went up stairs to Ginny’s room. Entering without knocking, she shut the door behind her.
“I’m all ready.” Hermione said. Ginny turned around to face her and she laughed.
“You’re not wearing that.” Ginny said with a disapproving laugh.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Hermione asked, slightly offended that Ginny scoffed at her.
“Oh nothing is wrong with that outfit,” She started. “If you were going shopping, or out to lunch with a friend.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you look… cute. And simple. Tonight, we want hot and sexy.” She pulled out a blood red dress from behind her back. It was small, with very thin spaghetti straps, and small, and red, and… small. Hermione gave a tiny gasp.
“Ginerva Weasley I am not wearing that. I want to look good, not like I’m advertising a free shag.”
“You’re wearing it, and I don’t care if I have to use magic to do it, but I will get you in to this dress.” Ginny insisted.
“No.” Hermione said firmly. “I’m putting my foot down.”
“Bye Issy, be good.” Draco said good bye to Isabelle as he dropped her off at her grandmother’s house. She waved to Draco from the doorway until she was ushered in to the house by Narcissa for some tea and biscuits. Apparating back to his own home, he quickly changed in to a black silk button up shirt and easy fitting trousers. Then, it was off to the club.
“Hermione you look so great!” Ginny gushed. Hermione shot her an evil glare.
“I can’t believe I’m wearing this.” She said with an air of disgust. She looked down at herself, unsure as to how she managed to cram her body in to it in the first place. It was tight. Merlin was it tight. And short, boy was it short. The dress stopped mid-thigh, but fortunately for Hermione, what skin it revealed below, it covered on top. The neckline didn’t show too much cleavage. “I refuse to leave the Burrow looking like this. I look like a tart.”
“Now about this hair…” Ginny mused. “I’m thinking a wild half up look, with a couple loose strands down in front. What do you think?” She said, ignoring Hermione’s protests to the dress. Hermione sighed, giving up and letting Ginny use her as her life size doll. Half an hour, two coats of “Ravish Me Red” nail polish, a thick application of deep red lipstick, a sprits of “Passion” perfume, and breath mint later, Ginny deemed Hermione ‘ready’. They snuck out the back door at Hermione’s insistence, because she didn’t want Nicolas to see her dress the way she was.
“I still don’t understand what was wrong with my outfit.” She grumbled. Once they had gotten a safe distance from the house, they grabbed hold of the portkey that Ginny had arranged to take them there. They could not apparate because Hermione didn’t know where it was, and the clubs don’t have fireplaces. They felt themselves being tugged along, and when they stopped, Hermione nearly toppled over from the impact and the somewhat unstable heals. The music could be heard from the street in front of the club, which appeared to be packed. The line of people waiting to get in stretched out down the sidewalk and around the corner, and Hermione felt her sprits drop when she thought that they could have gotten all done up for nothing.
“Gin, it’s going to morning before we get in there.” Hermione said, surprised at herself for being disappointed when she thought she didn’t want to go out at all.
“Oh not its not,” Ginny said. “OY! Carlos!” She spread her arms wide and embraced the bouncer at the door.
“Miss Ginny, looking fabulous tonight, as always!” He said. Apparently the young Weasley came here often.
“How many will you be tonight?” He asked with a foreign accent.
“Just my friend and I. Carlos, this is my friend Hermione.” She said. He took Hermione’s hand and kissed it.
“Another beautiful lady, welcome.” He lifted the thick velvet rope and directed them inside, to the great displeasure of the people who had been waiting in line for hours.
“Thanks Carlos! I love ya you big bloke!” Ginny yelled to him over the pumping music. Taking Hermione by the hand and pulling her through the heavy crowd, Ginny led her to the bar located in the back of the club. “Two fire whiskeys!” She ordered from the bartender.
“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed.
“What? It’s the only way to get you to loosen up. Oy! Bartender! You better make that four!” She called, holding up four fingers. Slamming the drinks down on the counter and smirking at Ginny, the bartender said, “That’ll be four pounds.” Hermione fumbled for her purse, but Ginny snatched it out of her hands.
“It’s all on me. Just take your shots.” She said with a mischievous grin. Hermione picked up the first one warily, and took a sip. She flinched slightly at its strong flavor and burning sensation. Getting up her nerve, she opened up her throat and knocked back the rest of her drink.
“Now that,” Ginny raised her glass to Hermione. “Is what I’m talking about.” She threw back her drink as well, and after two more fire whiskeys each they sauntered on to the packed dance floor. Hermione moved with the beat. Her hips swaying, feet stepping, hands moving freely along her hips and thighs, head back and smiling, she felt the unmistakable feeling of carelessness and freedom, or, perhaps it was the alcohol. Which ever it was, she didn’t care. Men came from the surrounding tables to dance with her. They rubbed against her, a majority of them wanting a free feel rather than a dance. She would leave them before they could get too grabby because, after all, she wasn’t that drunk. Her head was buzzing, and she was engulfed by the feeling of euphoria. She was about to go back to the bar for another drink when a hand grabbed hers, keeping her on the dance floor.
He twirled her twice, and then pulled her close to him. He expertly slipped an arm around her waist with his free hand, his other one still holding onto hers. Her movements mirrored his perfectly as they danced in flawlessly in tempo. She dropped his hand and snaked her now free arm around his neck and she pushed her body tightly into his. He let the other hand sink to her lower back, and he pulled her to him with each stressed beat in the music. She felt his leg prying her knees apart, and she obliged by widening her stance. His leg sandwiched between hers and they continued to grind, until the music changed to something a little more… danceable.
They parted slightly, and his hand went back up to her hip. Her hand reclaimed his and with the other she rested it on his shoulder. They danced the dance of love, of passion; the tango. He pushed on her hip, knowing that she would remember the steps. Her eyes were closed, trying to count out the beat. It wasn’t hard, and came most naturally. However, her eyes remained closed. She still hadn’t gotten a good view of her obviously very talented dance partner, but the familiar scent, the way her skin tingled under his touch, and the dance routine that only two dancers and a choreographer knew by heart told her who this person was.
Hermione hooked her leg around his and tilted her head back, as she would always do, and waited for him to dip her, but he never did. Draco stood there holding her close, just staring at her face, glowing beautifully in the soft red light that was being beamed onto the dance floor. She brought her head back up, and slowly opened her eyes. She could see him perfectly, only a couple inches from her own face. Their bodies pressed together, hearts racing, minds blank. Hermione could feel his hot breath on her cheek, but she was sure that he could feel hers as well. She glanced down at his lips, then back up to his eyes. Her head instinctively tilted to the right, and Draco wasted no time moving in to kiss her passionately on the mouth.
Her hands were in his hair now, and he had one hand on her back, one hand on her neck. They could taste the lingering flavor of fire whiskey in each other’s mouths. His tongue probed its way in to her mouth, and she showed no hesitation whatsoever as to letting it in. She kissed back feverishly while slowly backing up off of the dance floor. She kept going backwards until she felt her back hit something solid and wall-like. Hermione, while never a big supporter of pubic displays of affection, could not possibly give a flying hippogriffs ass if anyone saw her necking heatedly with Draco at the moment. She missed him in every conceivable way, and now that she was near him she didn’t care who knew it.
“Come with me.” He mumbled against her lips. She didn’t reply, but rather just continued kissing him with vigor. Pulling her to him as tight as he could, he apparated them to Cornwall, his beach side estate. It started there, and now he intended on making it come full circle. Fumbling drunkenly in the dark, they managed to make it upstairs without their lips parting once. Pushing her on to the bed, Draco quickly shed his shirt before lowering himself back on top of her. He felt around her back for the dress zipper, but unable to find it, he broke away from her to give her a questioning look. Taking the hint, Hermione unzipped the dress, which opened on the side, not the back. Fighting with it a bit because it was so darn tight, she was finally able to wriggle out of it and kick it off.
Feeling slightly foolish for not being able to find the bloody zipper, but too turned on and in love to care, Draco moved to her neck. He knew just where to kiss her, and just how hard to bite. They knew the ins and outs of each others bodies, and they knew what they liked and didn’t like. After all, they had done this before…
“Anit pregnato.” Draco smoothly whispered, his wand pointed at her abdomen.
They were hurried in their love making, furiously grabbing at one another as if wanting to do it before one of them realized what they were doing and backed out. That was mostly Hermione, who was fighting to keep the thoughts out of her head. However, once they had gotten started, forgetting didn’t seem to be a problem anymore. It was the kind of sex that only two people who are so crazy in love with each other, that they don’t even realize how strong the feelings really are can have. Throughout all the sinful moans and the blissful gasps, the immeasurable love was there, driving them wild. They couldn’t stop; they couldn’t get enough of one another, and tonight was their night to make up for the long time apart. When they finally fell asleep in the early morning, they both did so with content grins on their faces.
Ginny pranced through the front door of the Burrow in a very happy and slightly intoxicated mood. Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the kitchen table with her husband drinking tea when Ginny skipped in for a glass of water.
“Where is Hermione?” Molly asked.
“Out.” Ginny said simply, unable to keep the smirk off her face.
“Out where?” Arthur asked.
“Just out. Don’t worry, she’s in good… hands.” Ginny giggled. Taking a drink of her water and then setting it on the counter, she turned to her parents.
“Let’s just say that it’s safe to assume Nicolas is spending the night here tonight.” She told them. “Good night.” She skipped up to her bedroom, giggling all the way. Molly and Arthur exchanged curious, yet understanding glances, but neither one said a word.
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
I Hate That ...
Love is a Mu...