Chapter 12 : Realizations
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A slice of white, winter sunlight cut through a slit in the floor to ceiling curtains in Hermione’s bed chamber. Her eyes blinked open to focus on the beam and she felt warm and contented with Draco’s arm draped round her. Their legs were tangled together comfortably and she closed her eyes again, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in tranquil slumber.
She inhaled deeply and sighed with happiness. It was scrumptious waking up engulfed by his warmth; his body entwined with hers. Sensing her deep breath, Draco murmured incoherently into her neck and gave her a squeeze. She slipped carefully out from under his arm and slid from the four-poster. He rolled toward her with a soft sigh and rested on his stomach revealing the well defined muscles of his back and shoulders.
Collecting her white tank from the floor, she quickly slipped it on while her eyes scanned the room for her pajama bottoms. She could not find them in the twilight of the morning so she grabbed Draco’s boxers that were hanging from a knob on her chest of drawers. She stepped into the silky fabric pulling them over her hips and they hung low, revealing her midriff. She padded out of the room smiling to herself and her brilliant idea.
As she made her way toward the outer chambers she pondered the last few weeks and how she had hated it when Draco had given her a wide berth. After yesterday, when he told her he loved her, serenaded her and said he wanted to make love with her on her terms, well, she was done for. She knew it now without a doubt; he had her – hook line and sinker. The business with Pansy was a fading memory; she was sure it had to do with whatever McGonagall wasn’t telling, so she would leave it at that.
It was still scary for her to let Draco’s love in, but it was exhilarating and exciting at the same time. He excited her in ways Ron never had. Ron always seemed so childish and boorish. Draco was anything but. Draco was engaging and matched her in intellect. It was refreshing to talk with someone with more depth than a teaspoon.
Draco Malfoy was naked in her bed, right this moment. And she, in his silky drawers which swished about her hips with every step she took. She almost laughed out loud and she would have but she was too preoccupied with the memory of his body so close to hers. She wanted him; all of him. There was no doubt left in her mind about that any longer. Ron was her first and they’d only had sex a few times before she had found him in the throes of passion with Lavender. Sex with Ron was just okay for her and she thought maybe that was why he’d stepped out on her; she wasn’t adequate or good enough for him. Even just this summer, at the beach house, she had wondered if something was wrong with her.
The fact was she had never felt such dizzying heat envelop her body and concentrate in the pit of her stomach, traveling deliciously down to her core the way she did when Draco touched her. The things he did to her last night on her couch with his hands were incredible. He seemed to savor her and every moan or sigh from her lips—he seemed to delight in. Whether he moved with urgency or took his time, he made her feel … cherished.
Cherished, what a peculiar choice of word, she mussed to herself.
A few moments later she returned to her boudoir with two steaming mugs of elf-made coffee that she had arranged to be delivered to her door. She placed Draco’s mug on the nightstand and backed up against her vanity, studying his features in the gathering morning light. They were so much softer in sleep and exquisitely aristocratic. From his finely arched brows and his slim, straight, noble nose to his perfect lips and strong, slightly pointed chin- he was truly a beautiful man.
Without stirring, he opened one eye to catch her observing him and a slow easy smile spread upon the very lips she had been admiring.
“Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?” He held his hand out, beckoning her to come to him.
“Yes. Quite well, in fact.” She moved toward him, taking his mug and placing it in his outstretched hand. “I’ve brought you your favorite morning treat.”
Draco took the mug as he leaned back against the bedstead and took a sip. “Mmm. Elf-made? What a woman.” He set the mug back on the stand. “But I must tell you, I may have a new favorite morning treat.”
“Really?” inquired Hermione, also setting her mug down and crawling onto the bed.
“Oh, yes. Actually, I’m quite certain I’ve a new favorite morning treat.”
“And pray tell, Professor Malfoy? Whatever might it be?” She continued crawling toward him, up his reclined body, reaching his lips in time for the answer to roll off of them.
“Why, you, of course.”
“Me?” She closed her eyes; his mouth a whisper away.
Her lips sought his and found them warm and inviting as they claimed hers with vigor.
“Don’t tell me to go,” he insisted.
His arms encircled her waist to pull her closer as she straddled his lap. “I could get used to this, waking up to your kiss … and the coffee, of course.”
He smirked and she shot him a dirty look before he took her lips again with a deep, needful kiss. It was full of force and exigency, but beneath it she felt the tenderness of his love. He slid down to lay supine pulling her along and she could feel him hard against her while she enjoyed that familiar dizzying pleasure of his touch, his kiss. His hands wandered up her thighs to her waist and he noticed at last what she wore.
Hermione sniggered. “Yes?”
“Well, they are mine and I demand you give them back this instant.”
“No.” She laced her hands with his and flung them up over his head. Her bold little act of assertiveness gave him a jolt of excitement in his loins. She brought her face down mere centimeters from the curve of his ear and whispered, “I do believe, Malfoy, I’ve wanted to get in your boxers for some time now ...” Her tongue darted out and licked the tender spot below his lobe. “So the answer is no, I won’t give them back.”
Her incessant teasing had finally sent him over the edge. “You, woman, have told me ‘no’ for the last time. Now, I will make you mine.”
He wrapped his arms tightly round her and rolled, placing her gingerly beneath him. Then he took her lips with his, kissing her with sensual affection she though not possible. Drawing back, his gaze held hers; stormy grey eyes, hazy with unfulfilled desire. His fingers found the hem of her tank, slowly peeling it up over her head. She watched his eyes sweep down her body.
“You’re … beautiful.” Draco pulled her back into his embrace as her arms wrapped round his shoulders and her fingers played with the silken strands of his hair. His mouth skimmed down her neck and his tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat. “I want to taste every bit of you.”
Hermione exhaled a low murmuring hum and he took this as a sigh of her acquiescence. His hot, hungry mouth was on her, devouring and searing the delicateness of her neck then her breasts. He had waited so long to have her, to touch and taste her, to pleasure her. He bit down gently on her collar bone and rubbed his palm against one breast then pulled and rolled the perky bud between his fingers. She wriggled under his touch, sighing and humming as his mouth replaced his hand and he flicked his tongue on the firm peak. Draco groaned with pent up need as his lips sailed back up her neck kissing and nibbling along the way to her ear lobe.
“So sweet ...” he whispered, sending shivers down her side. His deft tongue danced across her skin setting her aflame as he trailed kisses back down to her bosom. He savored the sweet, velvetiness he found there. Cupping her with both hands, he pushed her supple mounds together while resting on his elbows and let his tongue flick from one to the other. Hermione’s hands were still in his hair winding it round her fingers, encouraging his efforts. Moans and sighs emitted from her parted lips as his reward.
Draco’s hands glided down her sides, sculpting the curve of her hips and bottom as he kissed his way down her middle. “Those are my pants …” His ragged whispers tickled her navel.
“Mm hmm.” It was all she could manage.
“I want them back. Now.” His tongue dipped into her belly button.
Hermione hoisted herself onto her elbows and gazed down at him with fire sparking in her eyes. “If you want them, you’re going to have to take them.”
The most devilishly, charming grin graced his lips and then he breathed, “If you insist.”
His long elegant fingers skimmed under the waistband, slowly tugging them down over her thighs, her calves and finally her toes. Once again, he tossed those green silk shorts clear across the room.
Draco’s eager mouth moved up her quivering legs by degrees, leaving a kiss here, a lick there, until he reached the fountain of her burning heat.
“Wait. I’ve never had that--” Her body tensed.
“Shh … it’s okay,” he murmured, and he continued his journey upward, reaching her mouth with his. He felt her relax into his kisses and her hands roved over the dip in his back, down to his waist and over his bum. He reached down between their bodies to touch her where his lips had been seconds before.
“Let me touch you?” His faint request was met with a gasp as she reared, rocking her hips to accept his strokes. She was wet and warm and he felt he might die if he had to wait any longer to make love to her.
“Yes … touch me … please ...” She gazed deeply into his tempestuous eyes as his swift, skilled fingers crafted her need.
Hermione shuddered at the sheer intensity of heat building and descending down into a delicious ache. She was careening toward something … something wonderful that she’d never known. This loss of control, it almost frightened her and she gripped Draco’s shoulders hanging on to him with all her might, for she wanted to go wherever it was he was taking her. “Oh – oh … Draco–”
Draco knew she was almost soaring and his own urgent excitement spilled into fervent kisses that made her limbs vibrate with anticipation. Her pleas and shivers set off a frenzy of sensation in his belly and he at once tore his mouth from hers suspending himself above her, trembling from want.
“Hermione …” his words came haltingly in between compulsory kisses, “I want you… more than anything, tell me you want me to … don’t tell me to stop.” It took all the will left within him not to take her that instant.
She wrapped her legs round his waist and lifted her hips, pulling him down against her. “No. Don’t stop. I want this. I want you, Draco … so much.” She kissed his face, biting and nipping at the graceful line of his jaw until her lips tickled his ear. “Please, don’t stop … don’t ever stop.”
With a wicked smile and groan of satisfaction he entered her sweet softness, slowly tormenting her, as well as himself.
“Oh, Draco … I want you inside. I want all of you.”
She bucked up to join him and he readily gratified, filling her with his full length. Her long luscious moan mingled with his and barriers between the two existed no longer. Draco knew she had opened her heart to him at last and it was there that he intended to stay.
“Hermione…” A singsong voice called out from her vestibule.
“Get up, Sleepy-head!” another voice rang out.
“Are you ready yet girly-girl?”
Her boudoir door burst open and Ginny stopped cold at the sight before her. A splint second after, Cho and Luna piled into the redhead like dominoes, knocking her to the ground and all three girls where sprawled on Hermione bedroom entryway.
The two lovers spoke at the same time.
“What the fu-”
“Oh, Merlin’s beard!” Hermione let out a yelp and scrambled to gather the duvet around their nakedness.
“Uh-er-sorry! The spa. We have our appointment.” Ginny was struggling to get up and out of the room while covering her eyes with both hands.
Cho was beaming with an open mouthed smile, eyes wide and taking the sight of Draco in the nude.
Luna looked nonplused, and then, oddly pleased. She stood, smoothed her blouse and walked out of the room with a tiny grin tugging at her mouth.
Ginny sputtered, “Right. It’s time to go, so we’ll just wait for you out here okay.” Having finally managed to stand, she dragged Cho out the door and slammed it shut behind them.
Hermione smacked herself in the forehead and let out a growl. She flopped back on the bed and continued groaning, her face in a grimace.
Draco lay on his stomach beside her, winded but smirking and chuckling at her reaction. She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“What?” he questioned. “Is it really that bad that your friends know we’re … er … shagging?” He stretched out next to her, his hand resting lightly on her tummy.
“I knew it. You just wanted a shagging, didn’t you.” she teased.
“That does not count as a shagging, little girl.” He drew closer to her nuzzling her temple with his nose. “I guess we will have to finish this business tonight, after the Ball.” He bestowed several feathery light kisses on her chin and neck.
“Damn it” she bemoaned, rolling into his body, molding herself into him.
“Oh, no my love … I need to take much more time with you. I’ll get dressed and go. I need a very, very cold shower or an extremely hot one, with visions of you writhing in my head.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. She pinched his bum.
“Ouch! Behave, won’t you?” He kissed her nose, then her forehead.
“What are you going to do in the shower?” she feigned ignorance.
“The same thing I did that night after the Yule Ball, you little vixen. Oh, and as for your massage, pick the fat, ugly woman named Bertha. I heard you’re scheduled with Adonis the Greek god, but there are parts of you no man, except me, should be touching.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Jealous? Of some randy masseur putting his hands all over your naked body, while I wank off in the shower? Yes, if you must know. I’m extremely jealous.”
Hermione laughed at him in earnest.
“However, I do believe I can deal with it, knowing you’re my date this evening. Shall I meet you at your door or by the Grand staircase?”
“Um, meet me by the Grand staircase.”
“As you wish, my lady. Well, then …” He kissed her deeply and pushed of the bed. “Until, tonight.”
She watched him move across the room gathering his clothes. She loved this knew awareness of him, the way his sinewy muscles worked beneath his smooth pale skin.
Draco noticed Hermione watching him and he loved it. He held her eyes as he walked to her, giving her one last kiss before disappearing out the door.
The girls were huddled on Hermione’s sofa, urgent whispers wafting about them. The three stopped the instant they saw Draco emerge from the bed room, shirtless. He strode to the exit pulling his jumper on. His normally perfect hair was mussed, blond fringe draped across his forehead giving him a boyish look.
“Ladies.” He nodded at them gallantly, an amused smile graced his good-looking face and then he was gone.
All three women jumped squealing from the lounge simultaneously and careened into Hermione’s bed chamber.
“By all that is magical!” screamed Cho. “You’ve been holding out on us, Hermione! You and Draco Malfoy are shagging and haven’t told us about it?!”
“No, we haven’t, not really. Thanks to you lot!” Hermione sat on her chaise in her satin dressing gown. She knew the girls would burst into the room as soon as Draco left.
“What?” questioned Cho. “It certainly looked like--”
“I think what Hermione is saying,” Luna’s dreamy voice broke in. “—is that we interrupted them, so they were about to, but didn’t quite get to – er, finish.”
Hermione buried her face in her hands; her blush deepening to match her scarlet dressing gown. Cho looked from Luna to Hermione and back again.
“Oh. Sorry about that.” Cho let out a tinkling giggle.
“Hermione, you’ve forgiven him. Are you happy?” Ginny asked brightly.
The chestnut haired Hermione beamed at them all. “Yes. Yes, very much so. I’m over the moon, really.”
Ginny bounded forth embracing her best friend. “I’m so happy for you, and Draco, too.”
“Look, girls, we’re going to be late. Hermione, just throw on a jumpsuit and let’s go.” Cho pulled her up off the chaise.
“I’m coming, I’m coming …”
Ten minutes later the girls disapparated beyond Hogwarts gates to Hogsmeade’s newest attraction: Madame Moon’s Crystal Ball Spa and Retreat.
Draco needed to think. He had just enjoyed a long, hot shower and was sitting by the fireside in his black terrycloth dressing bathrobe with a cup of tea. He had hoped to be further along in his task by now. He realized the last time he met with Snape that he should have had more information for his contacts. Dismay filled him as he realized he just might have to cave in to Snape’s insistence to involve Potter. Draco dropped his head back on the leather chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Snape had suggested they enlist ‘the boy who conquered’, telling Draco that Potter would not be able to refuse.
Bugger that! thought Draco. He just needed a bit more time. Merlin, it couldn’t be that hard to find that bleeding book could it?
Snape had said to his knowledge, the last one to have it was Harry Potter. He had told Draco the dark magic Harry had used on him, in Myrtle’s washroom was from the very book they sought. If Potter, just a fifth year student, could inflect mortal wounds such as those, imagine the fall out of that dark magic in the hands of an older, wiser, more accomplished wizard. Snape went blathering on that the situation was now dire and it was time to approach Harry.
Fuck! Bloody Potter to the rescue again! Draco seethed.
He, Draco, couldn’t even publicly take credit for helping the ruddy git and his precious Order. Draco had fed them the intelligence needed to take down the Dark Lord. Sure, he had been saving his own arse by doing so, but he’d risked it, too. He’d risked everything.
And now Pansy had shed new light on the situation. She was something— Pansy. Draco shook his head. The evil bastard was after the book as well. Maybe it was time he went to Potter.
Bloody hell…not yet. I just need a bit more time.
The girls had had their massages and where sitting in the spa whirl pool room receiving pedicures, while a cute attendant brought them mimosas. Cho flirted with him shamelessly which the other girls thought quite amusing, especially after three champagne and orange juice drinks.
Luna had picked out a blue green color for her toes, while Cho had chosen black polish. Ginny wanted a simple French pedicure, while Hermione vacillated between pink and red.
“Go for the red, Hermione. Be daring.” Cho winked at her knowingly.
“Okay, red polish it is.”
“So, Hermione, you have got to tell us about Draco. He is a very fine specimen of a man.”
Ginny giggled and added, “Yes, he’s nicely muscled … not too bulky, lean and defined. Did you see his back!"
“Of course we did,” squealed Cho. “Did you see his backside? What a yummy tight bum he has!”
“You lot are terrible!” choked Hermione.
“Well, its true, Hermione,” said Luna. “He’s very good-looking and with those muscles he could probably sustain himself long past other lovers. I bet he could put you in positions that would be too difficult for men with less strength …”
Cho interjected, “Really? Hermione you must let us know if this is true.”
“I will do no such thing! I don’t kiss and tell.”
Ginny leaned over and whispered, “Hey, I’ve got something for you … an early Maid of Honor gift. I planned on giving it to you today because you’ve been so down these last weeks. I know things are good now, but I still want you to have it.”
“Ginny, you’re so thoughtful.” Hermione opened the small package. “A Dame Zemelda Original!” She held up the pretty little evening clutch that was shaped like a lions head. It shone a sparkly gold with ruby eyes and would match her ruby ball gown perfectly.
“Ginny! You shouldn’t have. This is an extravagant gift. Thank you.”
The auburn haired Weasley smiled and patted Hermione’s hand. Ginny, with her caring and thoughtful ways reminded Hermione more and more of Molly.
“Speaking of the wedding, how are your plans going? I know I haven’t been much help to you lately.”
“Things are splendid, actually. Mum has been taking the lead in the planning — can you imagine that?”
The girls chuckled.
“It will be at the Burrow of course, Harry wouldn’t have it any other way … over Spring Holiday.”
“Fantastic! When you get back from you final exams, in January, we’ll sit down and I’ll help with any and all details. It will be great fun.”
“Thank you, Hermione; I’d like that very much. And I do want you to know, Draco is welcome to join you at the wedding.”
“Are you sure Harry won’t mind?”
“Hermione, I’ve said it before — I can handle Harry.”
The girls had another hearty laugh and continued to enjoy their day of pampering.
Draco found himself outside Harry’s apartment. He gritted his teeth and knocked. Harry opened the door muttering. “Ginny, I thought you’d be gone most of the day —”
“Potter, we need to talk.”
“No, I don’t think we do. I’m not discussing Hermione. You’ve really buggered things up with her —“
Draco held up his hand. “I’m not here to discuss Hermione –besides Hermione and I, we seemed to have come to and understanding.”
“A meeting of the minds?” Harry’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
“Well, something like that,” Draco sniggered, recalling their ‘almost’ encounter just that morning.
Harry’s eyebrows shot up; he hadn’t missed the insinuating tone in Draco’s voice. “Are you saying she’s given you another chance?”
“Look, Potter, I know you haven’t any manners, but may I come in or shall I stand out here all day?”
Harry’s face contorted into a snarl as he turned and retreated to the sitting room. “Funny, I thought you didn’t want to discuss Hermione?”
“I don’t, you’re the one nosing in my business again.” Draco glared at the raven haired hero and Harry returned the sentiment with his own icy stare.
Draco spoke first. “All right, here’s the thing, remember McGonagall’s office after the duel?”
“You mean after I wiped up the floor with you?”
Draco gritted his teeth again. “Right. Well, I need to discuss something with you having to do with why I’m really here.”
Harry’s ears perked up. Draco now had his full attention. “I thought that might get your attention you meddlesome git.”
“Gee, Malfoy, flattery will get you no where with me.” Harry shook his head. “Well, what then, out with it …”
“You cannot tell Hermione, Potter. Swear. Swear you won’t tell her a thing I’m about to say to you.
Harry’s glistening eyes turned to slits. “Why?”
“Just bloody swear! I don’t want her dragged into this. She’s so damned … she’ll want to help and it’s too dangerous. I don’t want her hurt.”
Harry was intrigued to say the least, but he enjoyed toying with Draco, and Malfoy’s un-Malfoy like behavior concerning Hermione had him quite bewildered.
“Malfoy, Hermione is an accomplished witch; quite a force to be reckoned with. She can hold her own.”
“As is Ginerva Weasley, but you wouldn’t allow her to follow you to hell and back to fight the Dark Lord. And I know Hermione is strong and clever — hell, she’d probably kick my arse in a duel. I know all those things about her, Potter. But in this case … she’d be a target. Because of me. You of all people should understand what I’m taking about. You didn’t drag your girlfriend into your mess with the Dark Lord did you?”
“Why do all you ex-Death Eaters still say ‘Lord Voldemort’ and ‘Dark Lord’”, Harry gagged.
“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Potter. Don’t pretend to know everything about me.”
“Are you telling me Hermione is your girlfriend?”
Draco ignored the question. “Will you help me or not? And keep your bloody mouth shut about it?”
“What’s all this about? I’m not going to say yes to something, some unknown task, without knowing what is has to do with!”
Draco stared hard at Harry. “Even if it comes from Dumbledore, himself?”
Harry faltered. His emerald eyes, ablaze with fire bore into Draco’s skull. Harry’s mind seemed to pop like an exploding snap. “What –did –you –say?”
Draco looked uneasy. “You heard me. I’ve been given a mission,” he paused for affect. By the Order of the Phoenix.”
“You bloody git! Dumbledore’s dead. Thanks to you, and you –sully his memory by using it to get to me?”
“Just calm down, Potter and listen to me—”
“I want you out of my sight. You’re a right bastard, you know that?!
“Don’t say another word. Never speak to me of Dumbledore again, not after … just get the fuck out!”
“Have it your way, Potter. You always were an emotional mess.”
Draco threw open the door so hard it bounced on its hinges. He stalked out of Harry’s vestibule kicking himself for even bothering approach the soddy wanker.
So much for dependable ol’ scar boy, now what Snape?
Draco was determined to push the unpleasant business from his mind. Tonight with Hermione would be the best night of his life and Merlin’s bollocks; he wasn’t going to let anything ruin it this time.
A/N: sorry about the wait- my computer was offline for two weeks. thank you so, so much to everyone who reads and thank you to those of you who leave a review. i love, love, love the support and encouragement each review brings! :D
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