State of the Union

Wow! I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Déjà vu?” but it’s not! I have actually posted a new chapter! I felt terrible leaving the cliffhanger in the last one, having already left one in chapter 9, and I also felt that last chapter was terribly short. I honestly did want to continue it and add what is in this chapter to that one, but I knew this part was going to take some time to write and I wanted to be sure I got something posted as soon as possible so you’d all know I was still here! I also wanted to make sure to do this part well, since I knew many of you were waiting for it. Anyway, that’s the reason for this update so soon. This isn’t the final chapter, but I think this story is slowly wrapping up. The situation that it’s based on is coming to an end, and I think that it’d be best for the story to end so that I don’t try to take it too far and thus ruin it.

As you know, I like to try to respond to everyone who was kind enough to leave a review and answer any of the questions people asked (or comments that I felt the need to defend), so here goes:

Guard Geek – I’m glad you liked it, despite the smut. I’m definitely a Porn Within Plot kid of person, myself.

Madeleine – Whoa, DIE? Just because I dropped a cliffie?! Holy cow! Better keep reading… just in case…

kazfeist – Rome wasn’t built in a day, so don’t expect things to come together too soon, but things will start to work out, here, don’t you worry…

Miah – I’m glad you liked it! Wow, art..? Thank you!

Jayna – Here’s your more, and soon, even, how about that?

liuv2dance – If I tell you everything she’s going to say, it would ruin the chapter! Wouldn’t you rather just read it…?

sheedy – Here’s another update for you, and this time no cliffy, I promise!

Mandy – I’m glad you liked it! Here’s an update, and even a quick one!

Experience My Dreams – Aw, c’mon, I only did it twice in 10 chapters!

crescentmoon – Thanks for the review, and keep reading!

oxcab – I know, I feel sorry for him, too... but she had a good reason, honestly!

Rosei – Ages ago? I only published it a year ago, here! You must’ve been one of my first readers, when I did.

Ravenna – Don’t worry, it wasn’t and this one isn’t, either! I haven’t quite decided how I want it to end, but I have decided that it won’t be just now!

errika – I hope this is sooner rather than later for you! Thanks for reading!

jamieblye – I hope you like what Hermione had to say in this chapter; thanks for the review!

BuffyXO – I’m glad you liked the dynamic I set up with Draco and the others and I hope the next few chapters clear up Hermione’s disappearance and her choice to leave. Thanks for your reviews!

Panther Eyes – You’ll see. =0)

Anathema – Cliffie witch? Harsh… don’t you love me anymore…? Hopefully, this chapter will make it up to you.

Joanna – I’m not sure it actually changed his mind, but knowing that you someday want children and then suddenly being faced with a small person actually being born into your life within the year are totally different things… I hope you like this chapter!

VanilleSky – I’m sorry for the terrible cliffhanger, honestly, I am… but I wanted this one to be great for you all! Doesn’t that count for something?

Anon – I’m guessing that this review and the one before are the same person, so I’m going to respond as if they are. I’m glad you were hooked from the first chapter and I’m glad you’re enjoying my writing style! It feels odd to think I might have a style… I’ve never considered myself a talented enough writer to have a ‘style’ so thank you! Regarding the telephone in Draco’s office, although I didn’t specify, Draco was actually at his work office, not at his office in his home. The floo network needs a fireplace to be effective and since I thought that fireplaces in every office at the ministry was pushing it, I did some creative licensing and made telephones one of the muggle technology phases that Hermione worked to integrate; I just never specified, but I suppose I should have. That works, right? =0)

lovelytiger – I’m so glad you like it! I hope this update is soon enough for you!

zara – Thank you so much! You’re writing is perfectly clear to me and I appreciate you reviewing!

Sacharissa S. – I’m glad you approve! I truly dislike instant love stories and it just isn’t natural or realistic… not that the Harry Potter universe is at all realistic, but you get the general idea, right…?

kazfeist – You did, but you know I love reviews, so I forgive you! =0)

invisible-8 – I’m so glad you’ve found a story you like and that it happens to be mine! I hope you’ll continue reading and I hope you like where it goes from here.

To all those who have posted links to my story elsewhere and have referred friends, I humbly thank you for your support and spreading of my story.

Obligatory No Ownership Clause: I obviously don’t own a single character portrayed here, but the situations and wording are completely mine.

Chapter 11, just for you!

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After dropping his tie, Draco struggled with a serious case of indecision: hug her or strangle her. In the basic contrariness of his nature, he opted for neither and crossed his arms over his chest, pasting a blank expression on his face. He was silent for several moments, taking in her appearance. Obviously 4 months pregnant didn’t mean much, at least not in visual physicality, because she didn’t look at all different to him. To be fair, she was wearing a fairly loose blouse over a long skirt, so perhaps there were changes he couldn’t see. He wanted to ask if she’d exhibited any signs of her pregnancy, but for the moment, he schooled his features into his best scowl; one that usually sent people scurrying the other direction. Hermione, of course, simply stood there.

“You’re back,” he said; a statement, not a question. Always the observant one, Hermione thought, wryly.

“How have you been…?” she asked, lightly. Draco was far too focused on her nonchalant attitude to realize that this was the first question she’d ever asked him not pertaining to permissions for herself.

“How have I been? Well, my wife went missing a couple of months ago, but other than that, peachy keen, thanks for asking.” O.k. she had expected that. ‘How are you’ was a fairly stupid question, considering the situation, but just standing there in silence had been making her jittery. Hermione sighed and prepared for the onslaught.

“Look, I just needed to be alone. I was feeling… smothered… overwhelmed by all of this.” There was a slightly pleading tone to her voice, but Draco was miffed enough that he didn’t notice.

“Nice of you to keep your husband and friends in mind while you flit off to be alone,” he snapped. She should’ve known he wasn’t going to make this easy on her.

“Perhaps if the lot of you would’ve left me alone, here, I wouldn’t have had to go elsewhere,” she rejoined, quietly. Implying that he was overbearing was the last straw as far as Draco was concerned and he started forward, raising his voice.

“We were only trying to help you! Hermione, you weren’t willing to mourn your parents; you were trying to forget them!” For what it was worth, Hermione had tried to play nice and explain why she’d left, but she’d be damned if he was going to stand here and yell at her, now.

“The fact that I do not consider grieving a group process doesn’t mean I wasn’t mourning my parents! Even if I did consider it such, why in Merlin’s name would you think I would grieve around any of you? None of you knew my parents, even remotely, and those people that did know them didn’t know me!” They’re voices were starting to reach the screaming point, sending the houseelves and other servants in the wing scurrying to find work elsewhere to do so they wouldn’t have to listen to the master and mistress argue.

“But we know you and we didn’t like seeing you so unhappy!” How could she stand there and blame her friends for her disappearance? How?

“Then the lot of you should have been clever enough to invest in blindfolds, because anyone who loses their parents is going to be unhappy for awhile! Besides, you never saw me unhappy, you saw what you believed was indifference, and that’s certainly not the same!”

“And weren’t you indifferent?”

“Of course not! You think I don’t care that my parent’s died? I do, but what’s roiling around in my head is none of anyone’s business unless I care to share it, which I didn’t!” Draco snorted and recrossed his arms over his chest.

“Back to the group process thing, now, are we?” he asked with no small amount of sarcasm.

“Don’t be an arse.” Draco’s voice, having lowered with his last few comments now rose in anger, again.

“Me? You’re the one who wandered around here like a bloody zombie for months, making us all think you’d lapsed into some kind of waking coma instead of reacting like a normal person would have when their parents-”

“Oh, normal?” Hermione broke in, incredulously, “So, Mr. Normal, did you cry when your parent’s died?” That caught Draco by surprise and it took him a moment to answer.

“No, but-” She interrupted him once more, pointing a finger at him as she advanced.

“So, it’s perfectly alright for you to seemingly ignore your parent’s death, but not for me?”

“That was completely different.”

“Why? You loved them, didn’t you?” Loved them? That was probably a stretch in terms. He had known them; lived with them most of the time and even appeared a few social functions with them… but loved them? Draco constantly had to remind himself of the things his father had done to try to make his son’s life go as he’d planned. Misguided, perhaps, but loyal to his family, regardless. His mother had simply been the typical society wife, never highly involved with her son’s life, but present nonetheless. But… love?

“Not the way you did your parents, but I cared for them, yes.” Draco finally replied, “But you’re…”

“I’m what? A girl…? Of course… girls are supposed to sob and sigh and have hysterics when something happens, isn’t that right?” Actually, his train of thought was the fact that she’d been truly raised by her parents and therefore had created a deeper bond with them than he had with his, but since she brought it up…

“I seem to recall an incident during first year where a female student spent the afternoon in a troll-infested loo crying because one of her classmates made fun of her within her hearing,” Draco sneered, nastily, “Was that you or a Hufflepuff?” Link pink tinged Hermione’s cheeks; how in Merlin’s name had he found out about her being trapped in the bathroom with that thing?

“I’d like to think I’m slightly more emotionally stable, now, thank you, and that is far beside the point under discussion,” she retorted, coldly, “The fact that I wasn’t acting the way you and Harry and Ron and the rest of you lot thought I should be acting didn’t mean that I wasn’t unhappy.” Hermione seemed to deflate, slightly, and the bitterness left her voice in place of something softer, entreating. “I just… I wanted to deal with it in my own way. None of my friends were really allowing that. You seemed to be alright with it, for awhile, until I told you about the baby and then you had a bloody meltdown-” Now it was Draco’s turn to interrupt and, when he did, it was angrily.

“I did not have a meltdown!” he seethed, and Hermione arched a brow.

“I consider yelling at someone while physically accosting them a meltdown,” she replied, primly. Draco was livid.

“Physically accosting them? Bloody hell, you make it sound like I beat you!”

“I did not, stop overreacting.” She was back to that stony calm and it made Draco even more irritated.

“Overreacting? My wife disappears for 2 months, taking with her my unborn child-”

“Our unborn child,” she interrupted.

“-and she thinks I’m overreacting…?” Hermione was silent for a moment, and then cocked her head to the side, watching him carefully.

“You could have come after me,” she stated, quietly.

“You asked me not to!” he pointed out, still agitated.

“You seem upset enough that I’m surprised you took my request seriously.” Draco took a deep breath and leaned against the bedpost, resting anxious hands on his hips.

“….Alright,” he agreed, slowly, “I’m overreacting.”

“Thank you.” Draco arched a pale brow.

“For admitting that I was overreacting?”

“For taking my request seriously.” Something occurred to him.

“So it wasn’t some kind of test to see if I cared enough about you to come after you anyway?” Hermione snorted, rather unladylike, and furrowed her brow.

“You don’t know me well enough to know the answer to that?”

“The fact that I know you in the marital sense doesn’t mean I know every thought in that grief-addled mind of yours,” he replied, satisfied when the blush that was just dissipating came back in full force. He found that he liked finally being able to make her blush.

“My mind was never grief-addled, and while we’re on the subject, does that mean you don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t care enough about me to come after me anyway?” she questioned, shrewdly, and Draco struggled with his anger once more.

“Don’t you dare try to turn this on me in some psychological mind game…” he warned, “You asked me not to look for you and I didn’t. End of story.” Fair enough, she thought.

“So you trust me then…” she pressed.

“What?”

“My note said if you trust me, don’t look for me,” Hermione pointed out. Draco thought about it for some moments before responding.

“There are times when I wondered why I did, but yes; I trusted you to come back when you said you would,” he answered, carefully. Then he half-glared at her, wryly, “Although, a more specific time frame would have been nice.”

“I apologize for that,” she conceded, “I didn’t know how long I needed.”

“For what?” When she only looked at him, blankly, he elaborated, “What did you do while you were gone for two months?” Hermione shrugged one shoulder, lightly, and glanced away as she thought about how much work there’d been to do in her parent’s home.

“I…went through their things, packed some of it up… sold some things. Mostly just said good-bye, in a way,” she murmured and he was suddenly struck with the urge to be comforting. He squelched it, cruelly.

“Did you put the house up for sale?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to keep it in case I need a place to live.”

“You have a place to live,” Draco informed her, firmly.

“With a husband who only married me because he thought I needed help getting over my grief,” Hermione specified.

“With a husband that cares enough about you TO marry you because he thought you needed help getting over your grief,” he returned, before another thought occurred to him… something he probably should have asked before now when she was more inclined to answer without question. “Were you unhappy living here?” He was starting to hate that damn one-shoulder shrug she had that seemed to convey her chilly attitude more than any answer she could give.

“To be perfectly honest, aside from the sex and the surroundings, my life hasn’t changed all that much,” she confessed.

“I’d have to agree with you there,” he granted, “although in my case it was the constant companionship that was different. But, Hermione, it will be changing in the coming months. We’ll have a baby to care for.” There was something in his voice she hadn’t heard before when he mentioned the baby.

“Don’t you mean the nurses and nannies will have a baby to care for?” she clarified, “After all, you’d hate for your wife’s duties to be disrupted by a baby….” When Draco glanced at her, sharply, as his frown deepened, he noticed a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, tinged with a touch of mischievousness. His eyes narrowed.

“You knew…” he reasoned, pushing away from the bedpost to stalk towards her.

“That you wouldn’t uphold the contracted arrangements? Of course I knew… Sometimes I think you’ve only pretended to hate me all these years because it was what you were used to doing,” she observed. “Consistency is much easier than having to outright change your attitude.”

“So, you let me offer for you, knowing that I didn’t mean a word I said in the contract?” he asked, disbelievingly.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it!”

“Well, I thought the same of you!”

“If you recall, according to the law, I didn’t have much choice. I had to accept the offer if another wasn’t already on the table,” she reminded him.

“Weasley offered for you. You could’ve married him.” A chill swept through Hermione at the thought.

“That would’ve been like shagging my brother,” she protested. That thought made Draco shudder, himself.

“Mental image unnecessary, thank you. And speaking of shagging, you could’ve warned me, you know,” he admonished.

“About what?” she asked, confused.

“Your virginity,” he answered, fairly pleased with himself when a flush spread over her cheeks.

“You were going to find out on your own, anyway. Would you have done things differently if you’d known?” she countered.

“Maybe.”

“Why?” Hermione grinned, now, “I think you did just fine.” Finally, it was his turn to flush and her grin got wider as she held back her amusement.

“Keep in mind that the contract said I could beat you,” he warned, only half-teasing.

“You’re welcome to try,” she drawled, still smiling. Both of Draco’s eyebrows shot up, this time. “There was nothing in the contract that said I couldn’t fight back; just that I couldn’t leave you,” she reminded him. Draco almost smiled through his bewilderment, then instantly became serious, again.

“But you want to….”

“Fight back?” Hermione was suddenly puzzled.

“Leave me.”

There was silence for several moments, now as the two considered each other and all that had been said. For Draco’s part, he felt he’d already proven to her whatever she needed to know. Hermione wasn’t so sure, and their differences in opinion on this subject were partially based in their upbringing. The marriage of Draco’s parents had been arranged and as far as he was concerned, they already had a more solid ground than in an arranged marriage. He trusted her, he cared about her and he was willing to raise the child they’d made together with her. The rest was easy. Hermione, of course, had the idealistic vision that people married for love, so she was still waiting for some proof that Draco cared for her and not just about her. It was finally she who broke the silence.

“Do you want me to leave you?” she asked, softly, with a touch of skepticism. Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“I think it’s my turn to be on the asking end of a question like this. Do you want to leave me?” he turned the question on her, deviously. Hermione sighed and reverted to what she considered her only true fallback: logic.

“Well, we’re already married, and we are going to have a baby-” she started, reasonably.

“I didn’t ask for the reasons you think we should stay together. I asked you if you want to leave me,” he persisted.

“I don’t want to stay if you don’t want me to,” she responded.

“I don’t want you to stay if you don’t want to,” he retorted and Hermione gave a wry half-smile.

“I think we’re at an impasse.”

“So it seems.” Draco’s head fell back as a mocking laugh slipped from his lips. “For someone who was supposed to be such a little lioness, you’re really a coward.” Hermione looked gravely affronted.

“I beg your pardon?” He stalked towards her, coming to stand less than a foot from her face which held a mystified expression.

“Coward,” he repeated, slowly beginning to circle her like a predator would its prey, “You’re supposed to be this brave, clever witch, but the truth is that you’re nothing but a coward… Oh, it’s very easy to stand up to something you can fight; something you can charm away with your wand, but when it comes to communicating something as simple as your basic wants, you’re completely… in….capable,” he kept on, enunciating his words.

“Now, just a minute-” Hermione stammered, but Draco continued, rounding her without so much as even brushing her clothing as he moved.

“You won’t admit that you like being here,” he hissed into her ear, “that you want to be in my bed, that deep down, you’re afraid to admit that maybe, just maybe you’re even a little glad that your parents died, because you’re happy being my wife-” That was as far as Draco got before his head rocked back with the force of the blow she’d thrown directly at his lower jaw, and before he could recover from it another fist came whistling past his face that he was lucky enough to have dodged, inadvertently.

“Don’t you ever say anything like that to me, again, you sod-off bastard!” she cried, as she continued to wallop at him, blinded by the anger clouding her mind over what he‘d said. The baby… remember the baby… he thought as he struggled to catch her small, fierce hands in his while attempting to keep his face and vital organs safe from her attack. Once he had them, however, it wasn’t nearly over as she fought and screamed incoherently at him, bringing her knees, teeth, elbows, anything she could into play in order to try to get him to release her. He finally had to shove her until the backs of her knees bent at the bed’s edge and she was forced to fall back on it, still thrashing at him. Finally, Draco had her sufficiently restrained enough to reach up with his one free hand and rub his jaw where she’d caught him with the first blow.

“I don’t recall you hitting that hard in third year…” he quipped with a sardonic grin. Hermione growled at him.

“You’ll be lucky if you survive my next attack you son of a-!” Draco’s lips came down hard on hers before she could finish her thought and for a moment she seemed to be responding. He started to nudge her lips apart and then drew back so fast he nearly got whiplash, loosening his hold enough for her to shove him away and off the bed. He landed off the edge and carefully probed the oozing blood on his lip as she crouched on the edge of the bed, watching him like a hawk.

“You bit me!” he mused.

“You’re damned right I bit you!” Draco laughed, pleased.

“Fair enough. You admit that you want me and I’ll take back what I said,” he bargained, still grinning.

“You can never take back what you said!” With her words, she’d thrown herself at him, again, intent on finishing what she started but this time he was prepared and caught her before she could do any damage. He hauled her beneath him, finding it infinitely easier to cover her with his own body on the floor than it had been on the bed, until she was subdued, once more.

“If I try to kiss you, are you going to bite me, again?” he asked, rationally.

“Until every drop of blood in your body is on this floor, if I have to!” He grimaced in mock pain at her words.

“Ouch. Alright, I give. What’s it going to take?”

“What?” Draco grinned, just barely brushing her lips with his, careful to draw back before she could attempt anything.

“What’s it going to take for you to admit that you want to stay here?”

“Why should I be the one to have to admit it?!”

“I’ll tell you why,” he ground out, deadly calm now, disregarding his earlier amusement, “Because for two months I made all your decisions for you; for two months, you were able to retreat into yourself and did not have to think while I put up with the questions from everyone, the accusations from your friends, the silence from you and the knowledge that despite all I did you might not ever come back from wherever the hell you’d mentally gone and I’ll be damned before I continue making decisions for someone who left me for two months!” He glared down at her, seriously, and continued fairly calmly, “If you want this, you had bloody well better speak up. I will not be responsible for any further regrets you might retain past this point.”

His grip on her hands had slackened, considerably, and it allowed her to easily reverse their positions until she was sitting over him, her fingers still caught up in his above his head. For one moment, he was worried and thought he might have actually flinched when she leaned down, but was pleasantly surprised when all she did was cover his mouth with her own. Some actions speak louder than words, he thought, as he sat up to wrap his arms around her back while hers rested around his neck. It was several moments before they drew apart and he frowned when he realized unshed tears glittered in her eyes and that one had actually made its way down her cheek. As he brushed it away, he gave her a questioning look.

“I’m not glad my parents died,” she whispered, desolately. He stood, carefully, lifting her up with him and perched on the edge of the bed, pulling her down to sit beside him and clasping her hand.

“I know you’re not,” he acknowledged, as he lightly skimmed the tips of his fingers over the hand that he held, “You seemed better when you came back, but I wanted the Hermione back that I remembered… the one who wouldn’t have hesitated to belt me when I said something like that…” he smirked and rubbed his jaw. “I think I got her,” he added, dryly. Hermione had the grace to blush at that, but leaned over to graze the rapidly bruising area with her lips.

“I’m not going to apologize, because you deserved it,” she admonished. Draco nodded, thoughtfully.

“I know I did. But I’m not apologizing, either, because it served the purpose I had for saying it.” Hermione gave an ironic half-smile.

“Have you ever read the French novel Les Liaisons dangereuses?” she asked, suddenly. Draco shook his head. “There’s a character in it that always reminded me of you. One of the other characters said of him, ‘He never opens his mouth without first calculating what damage he can do’… That line ran through my head every time I saw you in school.” Draco looked slightly wounded. “When we started working together at the Ministry, you still deliberately antagonized me, but it seemed more for your own amusement, rather than for my humiliation.”

“What I said in school was for my amusement, as well. Humiliating you was a lucky bonus.”

“You’re a snarky wanker, do you know that?”

“Does that mean you’re not going to finish what you started on the floor?” Hermione pinkened and, when Draco grinned at her reaction, she purposefully shoved him back on the bed, resuming her earlier seat on his lower belly. Once there, she crossed her arms and leaned down, resting them on his chest.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“What I want would be infinitely easier if we weren’t both fully dressed.” He started to lean up, but Hermione effectively pinned him with the arms across his chest.

“No. You had two months of telling me what to do, if you recall, and I’m quite sure it’s my turn.” Draco tried very hard not to look surprised so as not to discourage her, but this was definitely going to be new… he wasn’t sure he was willing to give up control when it came to sex, but it didn’t look like she was giving him a choice in the matter. That in itself might be worthwhile, he thought.

He sat up on his hands as she slid off the bed to shed her clothing and his gaze dropped immediately to her stomach when it was uncovered… nothing… No, wait… there was a slight rounding that hadn’t been there, before. Having not noticed, Hermione immediately came forward to start tugging at his clothes when he caught her wrists, gently.

“Wait…ah… is this o.k…? I mean, with… well, with you being pregnant…?” She almost smiled at the uncertainty written all over Draco’s face. She’d never seen him so openly concerned.

“There are only a few circumstances where sex during pregnancy isn’t advised, and I’m perfectly healthy. Unless something changes, which isn’t likely, we’re fine until a few weeks before the baby’s born,” she assured him and then tugged his shirt loose, “Now, are you up for this or not?”

“Interesting choice of words,” he quipped, sitting up to help her divest him of his clothing. Once they were curled beneath the covers together, he couldn’t help running just the tips of his fingers over the taut skin of her lower belly in wonder. “Has it moved yet? Can you feel it?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a topic for a later date and time,” she maintained, pressing him back flat on the bed and stretching out above him, “Now, kiss me or I’m going to go find something else to do.” He smirked and obliged, making sure to nip sharply at her bottom lip in retaliation for her earlier blood-letting. Hermione sat back and pulled him with her, putting him at the perfect level to nuzzle her breast, which, he realized, were just slightly fuller than he remembered. Bully for the side effects of pregnancy, he thought as his long fingers cupped one, gently, while his lips found the peak of the other. She emitted a sharp gasp, only half-pleasure and he laved over the area with his tongue. Her sharp nails scored his back when he switched to give the other breast the same attention, and she squirmed against him, making him groan.

Unable to wait any longer, Hermione shifted back and slipped a small hand between them to help guide him, slowly, inside her, shifting to make sure she was deeply seated. When Draco began to move beneath her, she drew his mouth up to nuzzle his lips and ordered, “Let me…” He obediently ceased his actions and she began to rock, slowly, above him, unfamiliar with this aspect of participation and he wrapped his arms round her back to help steady her. Draco did his very best to stay stationary, but refused to keep completely idle, bringing his mouth and lips into play in numerous ways, leaving small marks across her neck and jaw, occasionally dipping lower to nuzzle or nip at her oversensitive breasts.

When he finally felt he had to touch her, again, he moved to cover one of them but she caught his hand and drew it purposefully down between their bodies to where they were joined. He smirked and, when her shifting became slightly erratic, he deliberately stroked there, off her pace until he could feel the faint fluttering of her muscles around him. When her breath caught against his lips, he pressed, firmly, and was rewarded with a jagged cry as she contracted sharply around him, while he surged upward hard enough to trigger his own orgasm and drowned the following moan from her throat with one of his own.

Hermione let him pull her down with him as he fell back, one arm resting loosely over her back, stroking gently, as she settled stretched out above him.

“We still have some things to talk about,” Draco finally broke the silence. Hermione turned her head so that her chin was resting on his chest and wrinkled her nose.

“They can wait, can’t they?”

“Not forever, but for now, yes. Just so you know we’re not through talking,” he allowed.

“I figured.”

“I’ll give you one thing, though….” Hermione arched a brow.

“What’s that?”

“You were right…” he smiled, slyly, “I barely survived that attack...”

This time, after successfully fighting off her attempts to clout him, he got to be on top.

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It took me several days to write this chapter. I promised a longer chapter, which it is, some explanations, which there are, and some smut, which you got. I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Read and review if you’ve a mind. I believe the next chapter may be the conclusion of this series.

~§~ Duchess ~§~