Triumvirate

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the songs included in this fanfic nor do I make money off them. These stories are for entertainment only~

Starin' down the stars
Jealous of the moon
You wish you could fly
Just being where you are
There's nothin' you can do
If you're too scared to try

Jealous of the Moon - Nickle Creek
~

Harry felt the moment that Draco had ended her life and like so many times before he rose from his seat and went to the large garden near his study.



This was a soul garden as it had been dubbed. Here, through his magic and mourning glowing flowers bloomed that would never wither and never die.



Lifting his hand, he whispered, “Forgive me”. Then the soil began to move and a pale blue rose bloomed, from it’s silver leaf her name could be read. Like all the others here.



‘In reverent memory of Florinda Trevelyan. Lost in the war but never forgotten.’



Harry had little care who they had chosen to serve in life, the loss of them saddened them.



There was only one flower here that did not glow. It was black and twisted and bore no name. It needed none, for everyone knew who it was for. Bellatrix LeStrange.



Many wondered why Lucius Malfoy hadn’t earned a black rose, but no, Harry understood him to a point. His blue rose bloomed beside Narcissa’s, at her request and even though their portraits hung nowhere near each other for now. Harry was certain in time they might.



If she ever forgave him.



Oh she had already forgiven him for killing her. For using the Cruciatus on her so many times. But it was Draco she hadn’t forgiven him for.



Lucius had cursed his own son for refusing to serve. Not many people knew that. For Lucius had sent the boy away, thinking time would change his mind. He had wisely told all the death eaters that his son had joined their ranks but was away on business.



He’d died before he could recant any of it. Harry had seen to it. Most people thought he was serving a hefty sentence in Azkaban. Ha! The only thing there was a pile of bone by now, no doubt.



“Lord Potter?” came the soft trilling voice of the late Madame Malfoy. With a sigh, he turned and went back into his study.



Narcissa looked down at him with a small frown of concern. “It is done?”



He nodded, taking his seat and staring up at her. “I hate this Narcissa” he snapped, “I hate asking this of him. Of anyone!”



How she wished she weren’t locked in her portait. Oh to have a body again, just to comfort a boy, as a mother would.



“I know that Harry” she said gently, “And so does he. He believes in you, in this cause. Its something he’s never had before.”



Harry looked up once more, “whats that?”



“Conviction” Narcissa said simply, “War is terrible Harry. You can’t save them all, but you have already saved so many. Careful targeting has given you that victory at least.”



He nodded, that much was true. He had kept the numbers down, the battles small and away from innocents. The final battle, he wasn’t sure if he could continue in this light.



“What am I to do?” he asked her then.



“Do what you know is right, no matter how hard it may seem, how fearful.” she replied.



“And if I cannot heal him?” he asked her.



Her jewel hued eyes glittered with tears, “Then we shall do the best we can to make his life bearable.”



“I won’t give up on him” Harry promised.



Narcissa smiled gently, “I know you won’t. Odd that two boys who had nothing in common could be so close isn’t it?”



Harry nodded, “I never thought to count your son as one of my closest friends. I’m sorry it’s been cloaked in secrecy.”



She shook her head, smoothing her perfectly painted gown, “No need. Even Dumbledore kept his great sword hidden in his sleeve didn’t he?”



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Draco came round the corner just in time to see Zabini crush Hermione to him. She was pale and shaking, sagging weakly in his grip.



“No, don’t” she whispered.



“What the hell is this.. Mate?” Draco asked, the venom dripping from his voice made his two friends turn.



Zabini let go of the woman, who crumpled to the floor. Her breaths ragged still.



“Just a bit of fun is all” Zabini replied, “Why are you so upset about it Draco?” His tone was tinged with genuine confusion.



Draco moved forward like a panther, gracefully stalking his prey, “Because… I don’t want to share this one.”



Hermione watched through tearing eyes as he struck. His fists landing solid blows on his former housemates. They went down like stones in the dark hall.



Then he was up and rushing to her, “Merlin are you ok? Did they hurt you?”



She clutched at his clothing, and he caught the scent on her flesh.

Looking down he saw the remains of lust dust on the floor. Most had already seeped into her skin.



“I’m ok” she whimpered.



“Lust dust” he swore, “Rotten bastards.”



He lifted her up, “Sorry love but I need you to hang in there just a bit more. Can you do that for me?”



She lifted pained eyes to him, “It itches and aches” she whispered.



He nodded, “I know. Did you get it?”



Her brow furrowed as though thinking was hard to do.



“Did you get it?” he asked again, more firmly now.



She patted the front of her gown, feeling the small earring scrape lightly against her chest. “Yes. Yes I have it.”



She swayed on her feet and Draco drew her close to his chest, pressing a kiss to her brow. “Good girl”.



His praise made her blood heat and she felt the wetness pool in knickers. She groaned as her body began to sweat making the effects of the dust worsen.



She grabbed hold of his broad shoulders for support as she swayed again, “Oh merlin Draco” she moaned, feeling the world spin in a fiery vortex around her, “It hurts”



Her breathless words made him see red and he suddenly wished that he hadn’t knocked the two buffoons into sleep, just so he could do it again.



She pressed her sweaty brow against his shoulder, her knees wobbling terribly.



He tightened his grip, “I need to hang on love. Just a few minutes more. You can do that right?”



She nodded, trying to take deep breaths. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked softly.



He quirked a pale brow with misplaced humor, “I would have thought you knew. It’s arousal”



She glared up at him, the effect ruined by the dilation of her eyes and the yearning he read there.



“Ok ok” he conceded, “Amplified to abnormal levels.”



He took out his wand and murmured another glamour over her. Her black hair shining around her shoulders.



“I look like her” she muttered, trying to focus.



“Yes, just like my target. And we are walking out of here.” he told her, slipping his arm around her, holding her against him.



Hermione didn’t even think her feet were touching the floor at this point, not that it mattered her long skirts hid that.



Her skin felt like a thousand tiny needles were ghosting over her skin. She bit her lip in an effort not to cry out. Draco kept a steady stream of murmured encouragements to the foyer.



“A carriage, At once!” he demanded imperiously.



Death Eaters were watching them with amusement. “Never could keep their hands off each other.” “Oh she’ll not be walking right tomorrow.” The murmurs and chuckles followed them into the street.



Just as Draco had meant them to.



When the black coach arrived pulled by the gentle thestrels, he all but shoved her inside and drew the curtains. As soon as the coach darted forward he removed her glamour.



“Ok, we’re safe now” he told her.



She was curled on the seat opposite him, sobbing. “Oh gods Draco!”



He knew what would help her, knew it would take only a few good orgasms to nullify the effects. But she wasn’t herself and despite his younger years he disliked anything that dealt with rape. This would be tantamount in his mind.



“Draco please! Please help me!” she cried out, thrashing against the seat, tearing at her clothing, “Its hot, too hot. I am burning!”



He swallowed hard and restrained her hands when she began to claw at herself.



He watched for a few moments more, unable to see her suffer so.



Finally he reached across the seat and dragged her to him, “I’ve got you Mione” he said against her ear, “I’ll help you.”



His teeth caught her lobe and she moaned as his hands cupped her breasts through the material of her gown. He situated her on his lap, spreading his legs and hers along with them.



He fisted the fabric of her skirt and dragged it up around her waist. She panted against him as he latched onto her neck, biting down on the swell of shoulder and neck. Licking his way to her jaw and turning her face for a kiss.



She groaned into his mouth, his tongue curling to lap against the tender roof of her mouth. Tangling with her own. One elegant hand slid into her bodice, pinching and pulling at one stiff peak, then the other until she arched against him, her nails scrabbling against his arms and thighs.



“Oh gods Draco!” she cried out as he pushed her higher and higher into bliss. His free hand skated up the inside of her thigh, finding dewy skin and wet silk.



For the second time that night, Draco touched a woman. Though this time was much harder for him, since he knew he had to keep solid control of himself. He was merely helping her after all.



She gave a low keening cry as Draco slid his hand into her undergarments, finding her wet slit. Merlin but she was hot and soaked. Artfully he parted her and while one long finger toyed with her entrance, his thumb brushed against her pearl.



She came alive in his arms, her mouth open and panting as she chanted his name like a broken incantation. Her hips moved on his lap and his own hardness leapt at the contact.



“You like this Mione?” he growled in her ear, enjoying this power over her.

“Oh yes” she breathed.



He smiled as he plunged two fingers into her molten core. She hissed and tried to press down on them, whimpering when he drew them away.



“I’ll give you what you need” he promised, slamming the fingers into her sheathe again, curling them as he drove upward. He flipped them so that she was beneath him on the seat and he could use his weight as leverage.



Again his thumb, his magical thumb, brushed against her.



Hermione lost herself to him, to his touch. She felt the tight knot form in her stomach and knew she was getting closer. Her hands flew into his pale hair, dragging him down for such a kiss, that Draco nearly saw stars.



He pumped her, stroked her, bringing her orgasm fast. Feeling her muscles flutter around him he added a third finger. She’d need it for what he had in mind.



She clamped down on him and wailed as he shoved against her hard. The third finger wriggling with it’s brothers to prolong her orgasm. Just as she was coming down, he pinched her pearl and sent her headlong into another.



Her whole body shook but Hermione felt the greatest of pleasures and relief. That horrid red haze was starting to clear, and her body wasn’t as painful as it had been.



She slumped against him, her breathing still rough. “It’s better” she managed, “I’m still hot and itchy”.



He nodded, “I know love I know. It’s not done yet.”



“How will you know when it is?” she asked, already feeling the tendrils of desire spark to life.



“I’ll know” was all he said.



He kissed her again, slower this time, gentler. And she moaned into it, tasting him finally. The earthy tones of fire whiskey and mints. An odd combination but she adored it.



He pulled her bodice down, taking her hard nipples into his mouth, suckling them, biting them gently and then with greater force as she moaned and writhed beneath him.



Lifting her skirts from his path, he kissed her soft stomach, and then her inner thighs, sucking hard to leave his mark. He was a Malfoy after all. She gasped when he tore the soft silk from her body. He knelt on the coach floor, wedging his big shoulders between her legs.



“What are you - Ahhhh!”



Draco took her into his mouth, his tongue sliding through slick folds to tease her pearl, tasting the salten sweetness that was woman alone. He ate at her like a man possessed, never too fast or too slow. Varying tempo and pressure until she could nothing but accept it.



Her hands fisted in his hair, nails scraping against his nape and he growled against her flesh. He wanted her so badly. But this, would have to do. He slipped two fingers into her and latched onto her button sucking it hard. Her small calf had managed to end up between his and he ground his aching erection against it.



She came with a hoarse cry, twice more before he would let her be. Her body was so relieved that she cried. Her flesh returning to it’s former pale splendor and it lost that overheated feeling.



She slowly came back to herself. Draco’s face buried against her neck, his breathing ragged as he fought for control. He felt like a schoolboy. He’d made a mess of himself. He looked up a moment later, wiping her tears away.



“Better?” he asked.



She bit her lip and nodded.



He began to right them both, but she stopped him with a question in her eyes.



“Don’t worry I would never have taken you in that state” he assured her, “You have not been completely violated by a Slytherin”.



She shook her head and drew his down once more, “No. You misunderstand.” she whispered and then she took his lips with her own.



Draco recovered swiftly taking control of the kiss for a long moment before breaking it.



“You must be exhausted from all that” he said quietly, “We will be linking up with Saya and Cain soon. They’ll have another car and we can make our way to France. I assume you want to report before that.”



She nodded, feeling cold now that it was over. She shivered and Draco drew her close, smoothing her skirts for her and pulling her bodice back up, then tucking his heavy robes around her.



“What was that stuff?” she asked him.



“Lust dust. Big hit at most death eater parties. Great for those not so into it partners you could say.”



She shook her head, and smiled softly when his large hand drew her to rest against his shoulder. “Get some rest.”



He felt her nod and then her body relaxed completely into his. This was bad, he thought. It was all well and good to want Hermione Granger. But to WANT to keep her was another story. He was fairly certain Lord Potter had plans for her. Who was he to interfere?



Did she have to be so lovely? So brave, so damnably imperfectly perfect?



He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and let his eyes close.