Second Time Around

Draco woke the next morning to the pounding headache of having had too much Firewhiskey the night before. He scolded himself for drinking on a work night but the damn minx was driving him to do things he never would have normally. He hated her ability to tangle his mind into lonely knots but he really should have seen it coming.

Sighing, he dragged his hands through his hair and hit his head against his down pillow several times, causing his head to throb intensely. He’d dug his own grave. He’d harbored some kind of hero-esque feelings for Hermione since she’d saved his ass and he should have known better than to take her case. Instead, he should have given her over to Audrey Smith. The witch was sharp, would have gotten her through this with ease. But now he was stabbing himself in the face by the mere proximity of her and causing her greater problems than she should have to deal with. He knew she wanted him, he could see it in her eyes, and it wasn’t fair of him to pull on that string when she was in such an emotional time of her life. He should be supporting her, helping her get through it in a professional way. However, the only way he wanted to help her was to drag her into his bed and force her to forget she was ever married to such a pathetic excuse of a human being.

Not to mention the fact that her life was now being threatened because of that article Skeeter had come out with. He’d had a small talk with the bug-eyed woman and there had been no follow-up article since that time. That didn’t mean they were out of the blue, however. The damage had been done. Every magical magazine had Hermione’s bruised face plastered on it with images of him pulling her through the restaurant or standing up for her. All of them had so far failed to mention the fact that he was indeed her lawyer and so the scandal of their affair raged on.

Throwing back his covers he padded to the bathroom of his lavish flat. This was where he spent most of his time, reserving his Grecian getaway for long weekends when the world had lain too heavy on his shoulders. Lately, however, he’d taken to staying at Weston in case Hermione came or because she was there. He felt her safety was in his hands and had only left after as very strict talk with Jadie and Hamlet, his two most trusted elves, that no one was to go in or out except for himself. He had told them he would be at the house at 7:30 to collect Hermione, not a minute earlier or later. Hamlet had been stationed at the fireplace while Jadie had been at her door since Hermione knew and was comfortable with the elf. Others had been placed at every entrance, including her balcony. Even then he’d worried himself into a drunken stupor until the wee hours of the night when he’d collapsed on his bed and drifted into dreams of her being taken by an unknown villain, determined to see her harmed. She was quite right in her rant last night; he was obsessed, completely and utterly. The realization did nothing to quell the burning in his chest when he thought of others touching her, of hurting her in any way. He’d heard her tears through her door where he’d stood last night for nearly an hour until the sobs had quieted.

He was obsessed.

Stepping into the shower he flicked his wrist and hot water flowed down upon him. Closing his eyes he tried to ignore his throbbing head. Even harder to ignore was the throbbing in a completely different part of his anatomy.

He remembered the way she’d looked in that green dress he’d picked out especially for her the night before she’d worn it. It was a Vera, a Muggle woman for whom he’d had a great respect when it came to women’s clothing. He had known when he’d seen it how it would look but the actuality of her beauty revealed still hit him in the gut and made his hard member twitch. Trying to think of other things he scrubbed himself roughly, washing away the impure thoughts that refused to leave him. Finally, knowing it was no good, he caught himself up in his hand and in a burst of breath he’d been holding, began to stroke himself furiously. His eyes rolled as he thought about her, the way her hips swayed when she walked, the way her clothing clung to her sweet little body, the way she chewed on her lip when she was thinking too hard about something. Oh, gods, how he wanted to chew that plump little lip for her.

He could only imagine how her hot body would feel writhing beneath him and he jerked his hand over the swollen head of his cock at the image and gasped as his body reacted. Her luscious breasts bouncing as she rode him, her innocent mouth locking itself around him, her tight sheath sucking him in as he pounded her into the mattress while she screamed his name. One hand braced on the wall in front on him, water streaming over his steaming body, he came hard, thick ropes splashing onto the cream colored ceramic walls of his shower, his hips bucking into his hand. Panting, he leaned against the back of the shower and wondered at his actions. It had been a while since he’d been reduced to what he’d just done and even longer since he’d thought about Hermione while doing it. He remembered the first time he had, when his feelings about the Muggle-born had been confused. He’d nearly passed out with the power of his orgasm and afterward had felt dirty, as he did now. Except then it had been because she had always been his mortal enemy and he should still hate her but somehow couldn’t. Now he felt dirty because she deserved better than that. She wasn’t just some whore to whack off to. She was the most amazing person he’d ever met, beautiful inside and out and she deserved more than a randy teenager. Vowing to get himself under control, he finished washing and got ready quickly, a toothbrush scrubbing away by itself in his mouth while his wand floated around his face, shaving away the morning stubble as he checked the time, pulling on a pair of cream-colored slacks. He had seven minutes to get to his office and floo to the mansion. Swearing, he dragged his arms through the dark blue silk shirt and summoned his matching jacket on his way to the sink to spit.

He finally made it to his office with seconds to spare and stepped out of the fireplace to a very loud argument. Wondering for a split second if he had stepped out of the wrong grate, he looked around for the commotion. To his left a bewildered Jadie was trying unsuccessfully to push an irate Hermione onto the couch.

“-he says! I am a grown woman and am perfectly capable-,”

“-meant no offense, miss! No offense! But misters said-,”

“-busy and I don’t have time for what he says!”

Draco cleared his throat loudly as neither seemed to have noticed he’d arrived. This made no effect whatsoever as the two were yelling so loudly they wouldn’t hear a Blast-Ended-Skrewt go off.

“-miss, he is just worried about your safety is all!”

“-obsessed! There’s no reason for all this worry! Just a bloody divorce!”

“-says to not let anyone in or out, he says!”

“-completely nutters, I tell you, this is ridiculous-,”

“-Hamlet at the fireplace just to make sure, he says-,”

“LADIES, IF YOU PLEASE!” Draco bellowed, striding over to them. Their reactions were completely conflicting. Jadie hit the ground in a bow, sobbing her apologies while Hermione swelled like a Hippogriff.

“Malfoy, this has gotten out of hand! Now I’m not allowed to go to work as I please? This is outrageous!”

“What in the world are you doing going to work at 7:30 in the morning anyway?”

“For your information I’m supposed to be at the Holdings’ by eight to investigate some missing rings! Now if you will please get your well-intentioned elf off my back I will be on my way and-,”

“Have you had breakfast?”

She seemed stunned for a moment and paused her attempt to hurry passed him. “What?”

“Have you had breakfast?” he repeated.

“No, not yet. Please, Malfoy, I am very busy!”

“It’s Draco and you’re not too busy for breakfast. You have plenty of time to get where you’re going. First, you need to eat. I assume I’m correct in guessing you did not eat dinner?”

She said nothing and since the damn woman always had something to say he took it as a grudging affirmative. Gripping her elbow he led her to the dining room where breakfast had already been served and pulled out a chair for her. She crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows at him as if to say ’you’ve got to be kidding’. Indeed, he was not and pushed her down into her seat where she fell with a slight squeal and he began dishing her plate.

“Mal-Draco, that’s enough! I’m fully capable of serving myself!”

He plopped a roll onto her plate and took his own seat, stacking pancakes on his own and digging in. Jadie stood in the corner, lip trembling. Knowing there was no way to sooth her without her taking offense, he asked her for his morning tea and praised her greatly when she brought it. She smiled weakly and resumed her spot, darting forward to pick up his fork when he dropped it or to refill his pumpkin juice every time he took a sip. Normally he would scold her when she did this but he knew it was the only way to make her feel better. She had done nothing wrong, but the poor dear was always worried about upsetting him.

“There, I’ve eaten. Now may I get to work? I have some papers I need to get to Bryce before I head out.”

Draco surveyed her plate and knew he should be bugging her to eat more. She was too thin. But she was indeed an adult so he stood and escorted her to the fireplace while she grumbled away. He smirked. He loved that she never like help with anything. He couldn’t wait to teach her to live with it because he wasn’t going to disappear after this was over. No, he planned on hanging on. He’d wait. However long it took, he would wait. She would see.

He allowed her to stalk off to her office alone and checked his mail. He flipped through the parchment envelopes, dropping a few in the bin and separating the rest until he came to one on the bottom. It was blank, just as the one on his bed had been. He flipped it over, the seal was the same. Ripping it open he read the message, his heart racing. Bursting out of his office he startled his secretary who grabbed her chest looking scandalized.

“Who gave this to you?”

“W-what?”

“Who gave you this letter? Did an owl bring it? What did it look like?”

“Mr. Malfoy, please, I only just walked in!”

“Did you or did you not put the mail on my desk?”

“I did, just as I do every morning,” Gretchen replied, her voice quivering at his obvious rage.

“Did you see which owl brought this envelope?”

He dropped it onto the desk and she looked it over.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’ve never seen it before in my life and I most certainly did not put it on your desk! I would never put something that was not addressed specifically to you on your desk!”

Draco felt as if his head was going to explode. “You haven’t seen this before?”

“No, sir.”

“Did anyone come in before me?”

“No, not that I saw. I only got here a few minutes before Mrs. Weasley walked out of your office.”

“It’s Miss Granger now. Was my office unlocked?”

“No, sir. I had to unlock it to bring in the mail.”

“Did anything seem out of place to you?”

“No, of course not. Mr. Malfoy, what is this about?” Gretchen seemed worried. He knew he shouldn’t be interrogating her, knew if she had lied he would know. She didn’t lie well. Nothing in her face betrayed anything other than innocent curiosity and fear of being sacked.

“I’m not sure. Hold my calls.”

Draco stormed out of his office, clutching the parchment, shaking in fury. Now they knew not only where he lived, but where he worked. Which meant they also knew where Hermione worked. The Ministry had been breached, whether from the inside or out, he didn’t know. But he intended to find out.

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“Mr. Holdings, please, we are doing the best we can!” Hermione cajoled to the enraged man as she ran her wand over the doorknob for the third time checking for prints. Frank Schmidt was scanning the other end of the house but she knew he was going to end up with nothing more than she. The entire ordeal had been sketchy from the get-go. Ketcher Holdings had been steadily losing money to a cache of goblins known for their notorious bets. Yesterday he had burst into the Department’s office and demanded someone compensate him for his stolen rings. It was supposedly a set his family had collected over the years of all kinds of famous people including Oquil Szchgewick, the man who flew the first carpet around the world and Betebus Broomskey, the leader of the successful Goblin Revolt of 1603. Hermione had doubted the man from the start, but the more he ranted, the more sure she was that this man was nothing more than a down-on-his-luck crook trying to scam money from the Ministry.

“I expect you to find these thieves and get my rings back or you had better compensate for them! Some of those were priceless artifacts! Cleopatra herself-,”

Hermione tuned him out and went about her business. She would do her duty and check the house, write the report but she and Bryce knew this man was a fraud. That wasn’t her department, however.

“-listening to me?” the bristly man spat, drops of spittle sticking to his mustache.

“Yes, sir. I understand you are upset but there is nothing we can do about-,”

Hermione was cut off when ropes wrapped around her, including her mouth. Her wand was trapped her to side, useless. She was whipped around and Mr. Holdings was staring at her, wand raised, eyes mad.

“You will get me that money, every last cent, you hear me?”

Hermione tried to yell at him through the bindings but nothing more than a grunt escaped the rope digging into her cheeks. Rolling her eyes, she flicked the end of her wand out from the bindings as he threatened her with ever increasingly painful procedures and hit him with an Impediment Jinx. He flew against the wall and she tried to aim her wand at herself to break herself free of the bindings but her wrist was prevented by the rope which was steadily tightening, cutting off circulation and air. Her balance was precarious and she tripped as she tried to get enough room to turn the wand on herself. Keeling over she hit the tiled floor with a bone-jarring thud and dropped her wand. Holdings moaned on the other side of the room and she heard quick footsteps.

“Wha’ the bloody ‘ell?” she heard Frank say and the bindings were released. Hermione gasped in much needed air and rubbed her shoulder where she had hit the floor.

“Wha’s going on?” he asked, helping her to her feet, his wand on Holdings who was starting to sit up.

“Tried to blackmail me into giving him the money. Knew it was a fraud,” Hermione said, bending over and picking up her wand.

“No you don’!” Frank yelled and Holdings was on his back, stiff as a board. “Went for ’is wand,” he explained and they walked over to him.

“Why don’t you take him in and I’ll finish up here,” Hermione suggested, peeling off her gloves and shoving them in her back pocket. “We’ll get this cleared up by the end of the day and you can get back to the Shumaker case. I want a report on my desk by six. Have Dealings fill you in, tell him I said to make a copy of any updates and get them to me asap. He was supposed to send them in last night.”

“Right-o, boss,” Frank saluted in his cheery way and he grabbed the plank form of Holdings and Aparated away. Blowing the hair which had escaped from her bun out of her eyes, Hermione got to work collecting her report and Aparated back to her office so she could get some real work done.

As soon as she landed on her feet, however, she was accosted by Bryce.

“A word, please,” he said, ushering her into his office. Dropping the papers on her desk she followed him and took the seat he offered.

“Tea?”

“No, thank you,” she replied.

“Alright, I’ll get right to it. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway. Jennings brought this in from the lab, said a Mr. Malfoy dropped it by this morning to have it checked for prints or any other signs of who it may be from. Said he brought a similar one by the other day. He is your lawyer, am I correct?”

“Yes,” she breathed, looking down at the parchment wrapped in plastic. Her stomach fell and she felt faint.

I TOLD YOU ONCE, I’LL TELL YOU TWICE,

THREE TIMES AND SHE’LL SUFFER.

DARE TO TRY?

“What did the other one say?”

He handed it over and the blood ran from her face.

“Who sent these?” she asked, her voice low and steady.

“Don’t know. He won’t tell us anything more, just asks for an analysis. We haven’t found anything. Hermione, have you noticed anyone acting suspicious lately?”

Hermione’s mind swirled. “No, not out of the ordinary!”

“Has Mr. Weasley tried to contact you in any way?”

“He-he sent me flowers, but…he couldn’t have. This isn’t even his handwriting!”

“Hermione, we have to look at everyone. Now I want you to go to your office and write down every single person who might have a grudge against you. You know the blackmail drill. Follow it to a ‘T’, you hear me? No going out alone and let people know where you’ll be, when you’ll be back. Check your office for any signs of intruders. Security will be tightened around here, we’ll have people on watch. I don’t like the feeling of this.”

She shook her head. How was this happening? Was this why Draco had been acting so-

Draco. Oh gods, she’d been so awful to him! Now she knew why he was acting as he had. Clutching the papers, she muttered incoherently to her boss and hurried from the room. She didn’t stop running until she was in his office. He looked at her, worry etched in every line.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked darkly, throwing the plastic covered parchment onto his desk. He took a deep breath and rose.

“Hermione-,”

“Don’t,” she snapped. His blue eyes bore into hers. “I know why.”

Before she could think she was in his arms, kissing him hard. Clutching at his neck she dragged his stunned lips down to a level where she could plunder them more easily. He was still for a moment but then sprang into action, grabbing her hips and pulling her harder to him. Hermione wrapped herself wantonly around him, knowing she was cheating on her husband, knowing that she was playing with fire. It didn’t matter. All he had done was try to protect her, watch out for her and she’d fought him every inch of the way. She fought him against this as well but there was no denying it. She wanted him. Maybe she always had. She’d never felt more alive than when his lips were dancing with hers, when his tongue was engaging hers. She moaned deeply into his mouth, the warmth coursing through her system making her crave even more. Clawing at his shirt she ripped the buttons off, needing to feel his skin, warm and soft beneath her hands. His toned muscles clenched at her perusal and she gripped his back pressing him to her as his hands branded her through her clothing. Pushing her robe off her shoulders, he shoved his hands up her jumper and gripped at her flesh, one hand on her waist, holding her tight, the other on her breast, making her gasp. Her eyes rolled and she grabbed at his hair. His lips pulled away from her and travelled her jaw to her ear, biting down and making her shiver. She wrapped a leg around his waist and the hand that had been on her breast hooked itself beneath her knee and he twirled with her, ramming her into the wall where she moaned as he took her mouth again and his obvious arousal pressed against her weeping core. She rubbed herself against him and he groaned, pushing against her ever harder.

“Fuck, Hermione, you have no idea what you do to me,” he growled, his hand creeping up her leg. He locked eyes with her and she begged him silently to take her, take away her choices. But he didn’t. He stopped, pulled away slightly, dropping her leg where it fell to the floor. They were both breathing hard but he brought his hand up to her face and stroked it tenderly.

“I don’t know what happened to provoke this, but I can’t let it go on. When we do make love, I want you to be with me all the way and when you wake up the next morning, I don’t want you to be full of regrets. So although I’ll probably have to make myself a eunuch after this, I’m going to have to ask you to take a seat so we can discuss the reason you came into my office.”

Hermione nodded, touched that he understood her better than she understood herself. He pulled away completely and sat on his chair, missing the first time and attempting to sit on the arm. She laughed and he grinned at her. She sat her own shaky self on a chair across from him and clasped her trembling hands together.

“Now, I believe you want a little bit of information?”

“Yes, please.”

“I got the first one two nights ago. It was on my bed at Weston.”

“Wait, I thought you said no one knows-,”

“They don’t. As far as I know, the only people who even know Weston House exists are sitting in this room. Well, except now for my boss who I told when it happened. No prints were found, no fibers, no evidence of anything. I checked my room top to bottom, checked the whole damn house. There’s not a trace of where this came from. The next one came this morning with the mail, only Gretchen doesn’t remember seeing it. She and the other secretaries are on strict orders not to allow suspicious looking mail to make it past them as lawyers tend to get things like this. She’s seen them before and has never let me down on that instance. Someone must have put it on my desk before she arrived, meaning they could get into the Ministry and my locked office. Gretchen had to unlock it this morning to take in the mail. She and I are the only ones who know my security system and seeing as I nearly gave her a heart-attack with my interrogation, I doubt she has anything to do with it.”

Hermione took in the information and the wave of guilt overtook the initial shock. She’d dragged Draco unwillingly into a dangerous situation. Now his life was at stake simply because someone didn’t like her marital decisions.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I will go straight to the head of the Wizengamot and see if he will grant me a quick and quiet divorce. I helped his granddaughter out of a sticky situation last fall, maybe he’ll remember and-,”

“No.”

Hermione looked up. “Excuse me?”

“Hermione, this is exactly why I didn’t tell you. You’re not going to shut me out because you feel guilty. We’re in this together. Don’t start working that mind to figure out how to save me. We’re going to figure out who this bastard is and we’re going to make sure he can’t hurt you. Go to Earl and see if he’ll get you through fast, but I’m going with you. This isn’t your fault and you are not going to go all sacrificial on me. I’m in this, whether you like it or not. And I’m not leaving.”

Hermione couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand the conviction in his voice. When was the last time she’d ever had someone at her back? It wasn’t his duty, it wasn’t his place, and yet here Draco Malfoy was, single-handedly pulling the Mudblood through a sticky divorce.

“Thank you.”

He stood and walked over to her. She took the hand he offered and he pulled her up, clasping her chin in his hand and forcing her to look into his deep silver eyes. The emotion brimming in them made her breath catch.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ve been waiting seven years to get this close to you and I’m not going to back out now. You’re stuck with me.”

“I think I can deal with that.”

He smirked, making her think of days at Hogwarts, and bent down, taking her lips in a slow, sweet kiss, completely erasing any thought in her head. When he finally released her she had trouble opening her eyes and she grinned at her lethargy.

“Makes you wonder why we waited so damn long, doesn’t it?” he said, his voice deep and seductive. She purred low in her throat as an affirmative and he kissed her again, drugging her full of lazy summer days and soft, warm beds.

“What do you say we forget what I said earlier and make use of that beautiful beach just awaiting our pleasure?” he rumbled. She smiled and pulled out of his grasp rather reluctantly.

“Mmm, I’d love to, but I have deadlines to meet. Meet me for lunch at one?”

“Expect it.”

She back towards the door, her eyes never leaving his. Turning the knob in one hand she turned and vacated the only place she truly wanted to be right now.

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A/N: Sorry for the long update! Hope this will quench your thirst

Happy Writing!: S_G? I’m not sure what that means…

Voracious Reader: Thank you for catching that!

XOXO

RynStar15