The Homerun Blues

Chapter 10

 

It had been three days since
Harry had last spoken to Hermione and it was worrying her to no ends. Two days
ago, she had managed to corner Ron after he had been coming back from Quidditch practice, and she had successfully managed to
sort things out between them. Sure, he was still a bit bothered by the idea
that she had willingly started going out with Draco Malfoy,
but was comforted with knowing that Hermione had broken things off with him.
But Harry wasn’t as good-natured as Ron in regards to Hermione’s ‘stray from
the path’.

Hermione luckily was rational
enough not to blow her break-up with Draco out of proportion.  It wasn’t
as if they had fallen in love or anything. It had seemed like a good idea to
start spending time together to see if something was there, but apparently it
just wasn’t meant to be.  It was a shame that they wouldn't be able to
explore what might have been, but they honestly hadn't been going out long
enough for Hermione to cry over it.  She just didn't know him enough to
know for sure what she'd be missing out on.  Hermione wasn't prepared to
throw away 7 years of friendship for a relationship that would most likely end
up in disaster.  She wasn't going to be one of those girls who'd forget
that there was still a world out there once she had gotten a boyfriend. She had
her principles and she was going to stick to them.

And if a friend and lover
couldn't exist together... one of them would have to go.

Sad, but
realistic.  

She did expect that most people
wouldn’t accept her authority as Head Girl anymore, since her dirty laundry had
been publicly displayed for the whole school to see. So it had come to
something of a surprise that suddenly her amount of Head Girl-consultations got
doubled. Not only that, but students had also started consulting her on
subjects other than their studies, the only field in which Hermione was usually
queried about.

It appeared that the public
display of her humanity had finally made other people feel comfortable about
the idea of talking to her about their own personal
matters.

If only Harry would talk
to her again.

Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book shut in annoyance. Her brain just didn’t
seem to be able to focus itself on her studies. She resolutely got up from her
seat in the library and headed towards Gryffindor tower. She was going to
confront him and she would get him to talk to her again, even if it killed her
in the process.

“Harry, can we talk?” Hermione
asked as she approached her friend, who was playing chess with Ron in the
Gryffindor common room.

“I think we’ve talked enough,”
Harry said bluntly while moving one of his pawns forward.

“Harry, come on! I’m not seeing
him anymore!” Hermione pleaded, strategically avoiding saying Draco’s name.
“Please, just... stop being angry with me!”

“That doesn’t take away the fact
that you willingly started consorting with the enemy!” Harry spat while still
refusing to look at her. “How can you possibly expect me to trust you again?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said
helplessly. “It’s not like I actually sided with he enemy! I just-“

“Decided to be
the enemy’s whore!” Harry finished.

Hermione gasped at her friend’s
harsh words.

“Harry!” Ron scolded and gave him
a look that clearly stated that he had gone over the line.

“Did you just call me a
*whore*?” Hermione yelled incredulously, making the entire common room drop
into silence and every eye rake towards the Golden Trio.

Hermione had set herself out to
grovel and to plead, but she didn’t have to take this.

In response, Harry just grumpily
stared at the chessboard, probably very much aware that he had gone too far,
but too proud to apologise for it or to take it back.

“I did none of this with the
intention to set out to hurt you,” Hermione yelled crossly. “I know that I did
anyway and that it’s the last thing you needed in this time of your life. But
you can’t deny that I never turned you down. I’ve always been
alongside you, facing danger and death. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“So it’s my fault, now is
it?” Harry spat.

“No. I’m just saying...” Hermione
trailed off.

“For Gods sake
Hermione, why Malfoy of all people?”
Harry yelled, rising from his seat so he had the advantage in height.

“I don’t know,” Hermione sighed.
“It just... happened.”

“Things like that don’t just happen!”
Harry said pointedly.

Hermione swallowed the nervous
lump in her throat. She loved Harry dearly, but he just didn’t understand.
There was no denying that Harry was in the centre of the war with Voldemort and that he had to endure the largest amount of
crap, something he himself was very much aware of. Therefore he didn’t really
understand how much other people’s lives were influenced by it all, Hermione’s
life one of them. His own misery blinded him sometimes, making other people’s
problems seem trivial. They might be trivial in comparison, but that didn’t
mean they were of lesser value to the people in question. Hermione might not
have lost her parents or her godfather, but she was still in the middle of a
war where everyone she knew had a big part in it, even she herself. Everyone
she knew could die at any time and as much as she could try to pretend that
wasn’t the case, it was always in the back of her mind.

Harry just didn’t understand how
much she could use someone to turn to, someone with whom she didn’t have to
hold herself strong all the time, someone who, like
her, could use a safe harbour in the stormy sea that is this life.

Someone like
Draco.

In the room, people were staring
at her from all angles, making Hermione feel like she was a stage performer.
She looked at the ground and sighed helplessly while trying to pretend that she
wasn’t surrounded by a bunch of curious people.

“I yearn
no less for happiness as you do, Harry,” Hermione said softly. “I’m just a girl
who’s blindly touching around in the dark void, trying to find a little spec of
light to help her see, and that’ll keep her warm when the coldness of these
dark times have become too much to bear.”

Hermione suddenly realised that
she was crying. Somewhere along the way tears had started gushing down her
cheeks and a painful knot had lodged itself in her chest, making it hard for
her to breath. The surprising thing was that Hermione wasn’t crying over Harry.

She was crying over Draco.

She missed him more than she
thought she would. He had been her little spec of light and she had hurriedly
thrown it back into the darkness. Moreover, voicing her feelings like that in
front of everyone in the common room had never made her feel more vulnerable in
her life.

“I’ve got to go,” she said
hoarsely, embarrassedly covering her tearful eyes with her hand.

“Hermione...” Harry said, his voice now filled with compassion instead of anger.

But Hermione didn’t comply. She
stepped through the portrait hole and hurriedly made her way through the
corridor, not really sure where she was running off to.

*

 

People were avoiding Draco like
the plague. Ever since he had been forced to break up with Hermione his mood
had been as foul as dragons’ dung, something other students took as a clear
sign to keep away from him. There was no knowing how Draco might react to any
external influences and no one wanted to risk losing a head or a limb while
trying to find out.

Draco spent his days moping like
a kid whose sugarquill had been taken away from him.

Damn Potty and the Weasel!

And damn his father!

Draco hadn’t seen his father for
over a year and he still had to obey him. There used to be a time when
Draco blindly followed his father’s orders without question. Lucius Malfoy was powerful,
influential and respected; things Draco aspired to become himself.
If doing things the way he did could make Draco become just that, so be it.

Father knew best, so why do
things differently?

So Draco strived for the best
grades, only hung out with Purebloods, and made his voice heard whenever he
could to make sure Malfoy’s had a say in everything.
But when Lucius had been forced to go on the run from
the law, Draco was required to make his own decisions instead of having them
made for him; thus detaching himself from the active influence of the Malfoy senior. He had never consciously regarded his
actions as a result of his father’s influence, but it had become quite apparent
that Draco felt less obliged to certain things he usually did when his father
was still around.

Draco just didn’t feel like
stalking Potter whole the time to see what he was doing, something his father
had urged him to do. Most of the time, The-Boy-Who-Urgently-Needs-To-Get-Laid
was a dreadful bore! Over the years, Draco had stumbled on a dragon and a
secret DADA-group; two somewhat exciting moments in seven years and that
really wasn’t enough to keep Draco interested!

Sure, Draco still had to deal
with his mother, but she had never really been interested in Draco’s affairs.
Her sole goal in life was to marry a rich pureblood and to produce an heir.
When all that was over and done with, Narcissa had
restricted herself to focussing her attention on her ever-expanding liquor
cabinet. Therefore, apart from the occasional mail from his father, Draco was
free to do as he pleased.

Draco had always regarded his
sexual escapades with the other gender to be something he did purely for his
own enjoyment, but now he pondered on the idea that there might have been
something behind it. With Granger, he felt like he had finally found something.
Something Draco didn’t even know he had been looking for. Ever since he was
little, his father had taught him that affection was a weakness to be exploited
in others, not something you should be wanting for yourself.

Is that why he had slept with so
many girls? Had it been a subconscious way of searching for affection while
staying within the limits of his father’s teachings?

At times like this, Draco wished his
father would just get hit with the Killing Curse and let everything be over and
done with. If Lucius wasn’t as dangerous or
influential, Draco would probably have told him to stuff it regarding his last
letter.

But since that
wasn’t the case...

As Draco rounded a corner, making
his way back to his quarters, he suddenly found something hard colliding with
his chest.

“Will you watch where you’re-”
Draco began, but quickly swallowed his words back in when a pair of familiar
brown eyes stared back at him.

Hermione was breathing heavily,
both from the shock of running into someone as from the emotions that came
along with Draco’s presence. Why did she have to run into him so soon after
realising how much she had missed him? She felt at a loss. Should she say
something? And if so: what should she say? Should she just turn around
and leave?

“Err, I’m sorry... I just...
err...” Hermione stammered, realising with embarrassment that what she really
wanted to do was to jump and ravish him.

Perhaps it was her current
emotional state that made Hermione crave for physical comfort, but just the
momentary feel of her body colliding with Draco’s had made her ache for his
touch once more. She was still standing incredibly close to him, unable to draw
herself away. When Draco seemed to notice that she had been crying, he looked
at her in question and concern and touched her cheek to caress her tears away.
Hermione closed her eyes and automatically leaned into his caress.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she
couldn’t help it.

She wanted to feel his hands
caressing her, making love to her, while she wasn’t under the influence of some
potion or spell anymore.

Even though the potion had
stopped functioning, the pull she experienced towards Draco felt just as strong
without it. She momentarily covered his hand with her own and looked into the
grey depths of his eyes. She put her hands on his chest and felt his muscles
tense up beneath them. She briefly lost her nerve, wondering if she should take
his tenseness as a rejection. Instead she rounded up all her Gryffindor
courage, leaned in and lightly pressed her lips against his.

O Gods, please
respond!

Hermione’s body became alive with
joy and relief when she felt Draco putting pressure on her lips in return; reciprocating
her kiss. She opened her mouth to invite him and their tongues met in a sloppy,
needy kiss. She smiled against his lips, the momentary haziness of his
kissing-technique silently telling her that he had missed her as much as she
had missed him. Draco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him in a
comforting embrace. Hermione’s hands roamed over the rough material of the
fabric on his back, desperately searching for a way to feel the skin beneath.
Her body was awakening to his touches in a rapid tempo and the feel of Draco’s
erection growing against her thigh told her that the feeling was mutual. She
felt a familiar ache awakening in her feminine core, shouting out to her and
wanting to be quenched. Hermione grabbed Draco’s hand and placed it unto her
breast, wanting their touches to become more intimate. His hand eagerly clasped
around the responsive globe, her nipple instantly hardening under his caress.
Hermione knew that she shouldn’t be doing this, but she didn’t want to stop.
She wanted him. Nay, she needed him. Just one last time! Just once so
she could remember doing it right.

Just once!

 

As much as Hermione’s touches
excited him, Draco didn’t know if going any further would be such a good idea.
If they gave in to their passion now, it would only further their torment
afterwards. Yet it was clear that Hermione wanted this to happen and Draco
didn’t feel like he was in any position to deny her anything. If anything, he owed
her.

He owed her a sexual experience
that was worth remembering.

But Draco also knew that it
wouldn’t do if it was consummated in the middle of the hallway.

Hermione groaned in displeasure
when Draco unclasped his mouth from hers. He quickly grabbed her wrist and
pulled her behind the statue of a Hydra. Once they were inside the dark alcove
and safely hidden from view, Hermione put her hands on either side of his face
and stretched upwards to capture his lips into another suffocating kiss. They
tenderly caressed each other’s tongues; relishing each other and getting lost
in their mutual embrace.

Merlin, she couldn’t believe she
really was going to do this! She was going to shag Draco behind a statue in the
hallway like some sexually deprived hussy.

Every voice of doubt suddenly
fled her mind when Draco’s fingers found their way between her legs to her
soaking knickers. She moaned appreciatively and pressed down into his hand,
spreading her legs a bit wider to accommodate his touch. Hermione hummed
contently while he lazily drew circles around her clit with his middle finger
and affectionately nuzzled her neck. She had never imagined that anyone would
long for her so much that he would ‘take’ her in a semi-public place. She loved
how Draco made her feel, so sexy and wanted. Desire was filling her and setting
her body aflame. Her knickers were absolutely drenched and the scent of her
arousal even reached her own nostrils.

As she still had part of her wits
left, something she might be lacking in a few moments, she quickly took out her
wand and cast a contraceptive charm on herself. After she had succeeded in
casting the charm, something that hadn’t been easy with Draco nipping and
suckling the sensitive spots of her neck, she carelessly dropped her wand and
resolutely reached down to unbuckle Draco’s belt. When it was opened, Draco
released her neck, took over for her and proceeded to open his fly. Hermione
urgently kissed him again, not wanting to come down from her bliss by losing
contact with him for too long. She softly nibbled on his bottom lip as Draco affectionately
ran his hands over the soft curve of her lower back, his touch making
Hermione’s skin break out in goose bumps.

She felt Draco sliding his hands
downwards to cup her bum. He lifted her up while urging Hermione to wrap her
legs around his waist, something in which she eagerly complied. Suddenly she
felt her back making contact with the cold marble wall behind her and
comfortably let her back lean against it. Draco’s lips came down upon hers once
again as his hand lovingly caressed her breast through her shirt, his thumb
enticingly circling the pebbled surface of her nipple. Their tongues heatedly
ran alongside each other while they revelled in each other’s taste and feel.

Hermione squeezed her legs
tighter around Draco’s waist, bringing his pelvis closer to her; urging him on
to go further. She was so desperate for him she was physically aching. Draco
reached his hand between them, went inside his boxers and grabbed hold of his
erection. At the same time Hermione reached under her skirt and pulled her
knickers to the side. She shuddered in anticipation as she watched Draco
position his cock against her entrance. She couldn’t help but to look down;
wanting to see the physical act of their joining, something she had missed
before. Hermione watched the head of his cock disappearing inside of her and
sighed contently as he steadily continued to slide further. She could feel him
gradually stretching her swollen inner walls as she watched him fully
disappearing inside of her. There had been no pain like last time, just the
feeling of being complete.

Draco’s lips playfully nipped at
the sensitive spot below her ear as they both took a moment to simply revel in
their union. Hermione contently closed her eyes as she let her fingers play
with a lock of his silken hair. It felt so incredibly nice, simply holding each
other while physically entwined and remaining motionless. It felt warm and
comforting, like being cuddled up under a warm blanket on a cold winter morning
and knowing that you don’t have to get up for a few more hours.

As Draco slowly withdrew from
her, Hermione almost felt like scolding him for leaving her so empty. But when
he slid back inside of her, she had never felt more content; knowing what she
had lost and then regained. He proceeded to plunge inside of her with slow
rhythmic thrusts, seemingly trying to mind himself to restrain the amount of
noises they’d produce. The school corridors echoed like mad and they both knew
they’d have to control themselves if they didn’t want to get caught.

As Draco continued to move within
her in a leisurely pace, Hermione let her hands roam across his back; wishing
she could feel the softness of his skin and the bumps and curves of his
muscles. His lips affectionately nuzzled her neck as he picked up the pace a
bit. The dusty smell of school was replaced by the peachy scent of Draco’s
hair, the soapy spices of the softener used on his clothes and the musky scent
of sex.

She felt Draco’s arm snaking
around her waist as he slid to his knees and pulled her along with him, his
legs probably unable to fully support them any longer. His furrowed brow told
her that he was bit bothered with his weakness, but Hermione found that the act
–even if it wasn’t deliberate- aroused her even further. The knowledge that she,
the bookish Head Girl with the unmanageable hair, could get Draco Malfoy’s knees to buckle had stripped her of most of her
remaining insecurities. As he started moving inside of her again, she let her
feet touch the ground so they both would get better support. Hermione arched
her feet with each of Draco’s thrusts, meeting his plunges with her pelvis and
driving him deeper inside of her. Draco’s pants started getting heavier and the
occasional husky groan he emitted would send tingles over Hermione’s spine.
Seeing the usually icy Slytherin expressing himself
in such a carnal way was incredibly arousing.

He thrust into her deeply, making
sure that his pubic bone was pressing against her clit with each of his
thrusts. Hermione felt that if she could get him deep enough, they could melt
together. Her mind knew this wouldn’t be the case, but her body was refusing to
listen.

She didn’t even really know what this
was. Was it a way of relieving the stress of their separation or was it just
plainly saying ‘goodbye’? But in honesty, she didn’t really care.

Whatever it was, it was perfect.

Hermione smiled, finding it
ironic that only when the lust potion had wore off did she experience her fill
of passion.

Draco’s hand found its way down
to her clit and mercilessly rubbed against it. Body moved against body as they
thrust and writhed against each other, their earlier careful movements ignored.
At this point during their union, Hermione had stopped caring if they were
caught. She didn’t care if anyone would see them; Draco with his pants around
his ankles, the muscles of his pale bum flexing as his cock plunged inside her
soaking pussy and Hermione wantonly writhing against the wall; desperately
wanting him deeper.

She didn’t care, because whatever
that person would see was nothing to be embarrassed of.

She would probably think
differently afterwards, but at this point the entire world could get lost
except for her and Draco. Hermione found it horrendous that she had to do this
in secret behind a statue so no one would find out that she still cared for
him. If people couldn’t just shut up and be supportive, they shouldn’t be
surprised that they might walk in on a desperate attempt for them to meet each
other. There should be no taboos about two people wanting to express their
affection for each other.

Suddenly Draco clasped his hand
in front of her mouth and it was only then that Hermione realised that she was
about to come. Draco grabbed hold of her hand and placed it over his own lips in
return. His grey eyes were dark and stormy and his gaze was so intense it was
almost predatorily. She could feel his hot breath running over the back of her
hand, grasping for air as he pounded inside of her; climbing the last flight of
steps on the stairway to heaven.

Hermione’s ecstatic yelps were
muffled by Draco’s hand on her mouth. She felt her inner muscles contracting in
prelude of her nearing orgasm. Suddenly her inner walls squeezed together
tightly, which instantly set off a chain reaction along the rest of her body.
Hermione arched her back when a feeling of such intense pleasure and release
washed over her; a feeling so forceful it was almost too much to bear. Her
hands harshly clamped onto Draco, no doubt leaving a set of dimples in his cheeks
as her fingers dug into his flesh.

As she started coming down from
her climax, Hermione felt Draco spilling his warm essence inside of her as he
came with a muffled groan; the sound of his cry carefully hushed by the palm of
Hermione’s hand.

When Hermione felt his body
relax, she let go of his mouth as he had done a few moments ago during his
climax. His pale skin was gleaming with perspiration and his eyes were
sparkling. Hermione reached out to move some of his hair out of his eyes while
she let her gaze roam over his face, mapping it out and storing it into her
memory. She snaked her arms around his back, buried her face in the crook of
his neck and held him close. He curled his arms around her in return. As they
held each other close, Hermione could feel his heartbeat rapidly thumping
against her chest. This was the first time she had been close enough to feel
someone else’s heartbeat and she was mesmerised by how humble it made her feel.

“Draco?”

“Hm?”
he softly replied against her neck.

“Thank you,” she simply said.

In reply, Draco gently squeezed
his arms tighter around her, words no longer needed.

At that moment, Hermione wished
she believed in some sort of a supreme being, so she could pray for time to
stop. She wanted to stay in the here and now, where things were still perfect.
Not in the future, where she and Draco would have to get up, go their separate
ways and pretend like this had never happened.

But as hard as she wished, time
didn’t stop.

 

**********

End of Chapter 10

A/N: Just letting you know that
tomorrow we’ve reached the final chapter.