Catalyst

A/N: None of it belongs to me. It’s been a while on review responses, so here they are for the last two chapters. Thanks for taking the time to leave feedback!

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Until very recently, Hermione Granger had never ever considered her job to be dull. She’d never once called in sick or taken a “mental health day.” She was usually the first one in to the office and one of the last to leave. Her work was always thorough, accurate, and precise, and she never wasted a single minute of her time in the office.

The typically studious brunette witch was currently reclining in her desk chair, her eyes closed and a dreamy smile on her face. Every so often she would open her eyes, steal a glance at the image of the tiny two-year old Draco Malfoy and sigh softly, basking in the warm glow that enveloped her. It was quite ironic, if she thought about it, that the boy who’d been the absolute bane of her existence for so long could now inspire such an emotional state.

She was in the midst of a heated internal argument on the merits of returning to the stack of papers before her when the door burst open with a shouted command. In the doorframe stood a very pale and terrified looking Harry Potter.

“What is it Harry?” She leapt from her chair and crossing the room.

“Need to sit down,” he gasped, sounding as though he couldn’t catch his breath. “Must talk…”

Her brow furrowed in concern as she led him to a seat across from her desk. The uncontrollable trembling of usually solid form was most disconcerting. She shut the door, muttering a quick locking spell, and took a seat across from him, waiting for him to speak.

“Oh God,” he groaned desperately, his head falling forward onto her desk with a thump.

Hermione’s sense of alarm was growing rapidly. She’s never seen her friend in such a state, and that included the period during which he was preparing to defeat the evil wizard who was hell-bent on killing Harry and ruling on high after slaughtering great masses of people. If this was worse than that, well then, things were not looking up.

“I need to tell you something.” He looked up suddenly, his green eyes brighter than usual in his panic. “I’m not allowed to, but I have to.” He looked around nervously before turning his gaze back to her, seeming to come to a decision.

“Right then. I’m going to tell you but you’ve got to act surprised when she tells you or I’ll really be in for it.” He stared at her, looking frantic for her to agree.

“Alright.” She could only guess at what he was talking about, but figured that the sooner he told her, the sooner they could try and find a solution.

He didn’t speak for several moments, his chest heaving as he sucked in shallow breaths. Beads of sweat were gradually appearing across his frighteningly pale forehead.

“Gin’s pregnant. She was late, so we ran the test this morning.”

Hermione waited patiently for him to continue. After several moments, it became evident that he had indeed finished, effectively shattering her assumption that there had to be some further explanation of his current state of terror.

“I take it that this wasn’t planned,” she offered tentatively.

“Of course not,” he snapped. “It’s preposterous. We’re far too young to have a baby. And the idea of me as a father...” He snorted angrily.

Hermione found herself in the rare state of being at a loss for words.

“I mean, can you imagine? I grew up with a family that treated me as an indentured servant. Worse, an indentured servant that they hadn’t sought out and deeply resented.” He sighed and leaned forward once again, threading his fingers through his exceptionally untidy black hair and resting his elbows on her desk.

“Every morning I wake up expecting that day to be the day that it all falls apart. I mean, honestly, how many people at our wedding actually thought that we’d make it through the first year of marriage. I can\'t say that I blame them; not one bit. Because really, how much more screwed up can one person be? It’s a bloody miracle that we’ve made it this far.”

Hermione could feel her heart breaking for him. There had been people, many of them, that had predicted an explosive end to the Potter-Weasley marriage. ‘Too much drama, history, stress,’ they’d said. But she’d always known how strong they both were, despite their respective childhood traumas and battles. More importantly, it was obvious, to her at least, how very much in love Harry and Ginny were, and she’d known that neither of them would be willing to surrender the other, no matter the circumstances.

“And now, just when I’ve started to believe that it’s possible that she isn’t going to get fed up and leave me one day,” Harry continued, “she gets pregnant. And I have no idea how to raise a child. Some days it’s all I can do to keep myself together, much less be responsible for an entire other human being.” His voice was thick with emotion as he finished, sounding on the verge of tears. He let out a deep shuddering breath and slumped forward.

Hermione rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around him and cradling him close to her.

“Oh, Harry,” she began, sounding close to tears herself. “You’re so silly sometimes. Ginny will never leave you, partly because she loves you far too much and partly because you will never give her a reason. No matter what you may think, you have so much love to give.”

She stroked his head soothingly as she continued.

“You may not have had the best childhood-“

He snorted loudly.

“-but you mustn’t look on it as something that spoiled you somehow. You are nothing like those people and you never will be. You are one of the warmest, kindest people I’ve ever known and you must believe me that you will not be anything less than a wonderful parent. You’ll learn as you go along. Surely you don’t believe that Ginny will expect you to do it alone.”

He said nothing, but she could feel his body relaxing slightly in her arms, and the trembling had subsided. It was a truly unnerving experience to witness the unflappable Harry Potter in the throws of a nervous breakdown. She clutched him tightly, feeling suddenly protective of the man that had been so mistreated as a young boy. She tended to forget, as did everyone, that Harry had deep childhood scars hidden beneath the man he’d become.

“I can’t believe you guys are going to have a baby,” she cried out softly, the tears finally spilling over. “I’m so happy for you.”

He made a muffled chuckling sound and she released her grip on him slightly. He looked up at her from his station, his head still resting against her bosom and his green eyes glinting with mischief.

“You don’t have to let go. I was quite enjoying that position,” he quipped wickedly.

She laughed and pulled away, blushing and slapping his arm lightly.

“You’re incorrigible, Harry Potter.”

“So, uh, where’s the naked picture of your boyfriend you’ve got stashed away in here?” Harry asked, poking through the clutter on her desk.

She slapped his hand away and he laughed.

“Let’s go to lunch. My treat, to thank you for putting up with the drama of the Boy-who-Lived.”

“Do you see this desk? I haven’t even begun to work through this stuff yet.”

“Then you aren’t in the middle of anything important, are you?”

“Harry, I haven’t done any real work at all to day. Nor, I would presume from your emotional state when you entered my office, have you,” she admonished, looking at him sternly.

“What’s your point?” Harry looked distinctly unruffled. “Come on, let’s go, I’m starving,” he finished without waiting for her response, grabbing both of their coats and dragging her towards the door.

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The evening found a gathering of friends and family at the Potter residence, where a very nervous looking Harry and very excited Ginny filled everyone in on the good news. Reactions were a mixed bag indeed.

Molly Weasley burst into tears and enveloped both daughter and son-in-law in a bone-crushing hug. Arthur looked a bit misty-eyed but beamed at them both. Fred and George were delighted and immediately began whispering to each other in a way that had everyone else looking distinctly nervous. Fleur immediately began offering Ginny advice and assistance while Bill and Charlie looked happy, if a bit shell-shocked that their baby sister was having a baby.

Ron, on the other hand, turned a nasty shade of reddish-purple and stared at them silently, cracking his knuckles menacingly before Hermione delivered a swift kick. He glared at her and she gave him a meaningful look, tapping her wand against her leg purposefully until he grudgingly offered his congratulations, though he refused to shake Harry’s hand.

Draco waited until the family had cleared off a bit before clapping a red-faced Harry on the shoulder roughly and proclaiming, “Well done, Potter,” with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows in Ginny’s direction.

The evening proceeded in a blur of food, laughter, and reminiscences. After one particularly delightfully embarrassing tale about Bill’s reluctance to don the appropriate undergarments until the age of nine, Harry chimed in to the conversation with a very unwelcome contribution.

“Sounds a bit like someone else we know, eh, Hermione?” He snickered with a pointed look in Draco’s direction.

Hermione struggled to school her features into blank innocence as she felt his grey eyes turn upon her.

“Granger,” he began warningly, “I’d be very interested to know why Potty is inferring that I have some sort of aversion to underwear.”

“Not just underwear,” Harry added blithely. “Though he was wearing a hat. I suppose that’s something. Almost makes it kinkier though, doesn’t it?”

Hermione felt the corners of her traitorous mouth twitching in a smirk as Draco looked from Harry to Hermione with an expression of utter horror.

“Draco, now before you get upset-“

“Before! You don’t think that I’m upset already? Where did you get that picture and why in god’s name has Potter seen it?!”

The rest of the table looked on with increasing interest.

“I haven’t seen this picture,” grumbled Ginny, pouting.

“And you aren’t going to, either,” snapped Draco, glaring at her. He turned back to Hermione, his eyes dark and steely, and raised one pale eyebrow in question.

“Do you remember the day I spent with your mum?” she began nervously.

He groaned. “I should have known. Alright, so that answers the question of how you got it. No doubt she was beyond delighted to flaunt my humiliation as thoroughly as possible. It still doesn’t explain how he-“ Draco gestured towards Harry, “got a hold of it.”

“He was searching through my purse the next day. it’s not like I pulled it out to show off,” Hermione explained defensively.

“And you just pulled it out and looked your fill, did you Potty? Where’s your sense of propriety?”

“I just wanted to see it because I have so few childhood photos,” Harry responded slowly with an expression of dejection. “My parents never got to take pictures of me when I was that age, you see.” He sniffed slightly and looked down at his plate.

The female contingent of the party immediately began cooing over him, murmuring comforting sounds and shooting Draco venomous looks for upsetting Harry. The dark-haired man remained despondent for several minutes before glancing around furtively to make sure none of the women were watching and flashing Draco a triumphant smile.

Draco shook his head to himself, his jaw dropping at the calculated deception. The boy really should have been in Slytherin.

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“So, tell me Granger, where do you keep your nude photos?”

She stared at him. They’d come back to her flat and were just settling in when he’d spoken.

“Fair’s fair. You’ve got one of mine, after all. I demand the same.”

She huffed. “I don’t keep a stockpile of nude pictures of myself for handouts.”

“Hmmm…” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Not a problem. I’ll just pop back to the Manor and get my camera then, shall I?”

“You most certainly shall not!” She looked utterly horrified. “I’ve got a picture of you as a toddler. That’s hardly the same as whatever it is that you’re suggesting.”

“Well, if it’s reciprocity that you’re worried about, I’d be happy to provide you with an updated version.” He leered at her.

“What?! No, that is not what I’m worried about and it doesn’t even make sense, Draco.”

“Look, Granger, all I know is that not only do you have a photograph of my naked body, you showed it to Potter.” He gave her a stern look. “Because of you, Potty has seen my naked bits,” he added for emphasis. “The way I see it, you owe me.”

She gaped at him. “You can’t be serious, Draco. You wouldn’t actually try to equate the two.” There was a note of panic in her voice.

He frowned at her for a moment, then sighed in defeat. “No, I suppose not,” he grumbled. “I would enjoy it though,” he added hopefully, his grey eyes deceptively innocent as he regarded her.

“I’ll bear it in mind.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at him, melting into his arms as he pulled her closer.

“You are just so bloody sexy,” he murmured into her ear. “I can’t get enough of you.”

She scoffed slightly, and he pulled away, looking hurt.

“What?”

“Sorry, it’s just, I’m hardly centerfold material, am I?”

He stared at her, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

She looked down at herself, gazing regretfully at her worn t-shirt and loose, faded jeans she’d changed into after work. They were too long on her petite frame and dragged on the ground, nearly covering her feet as she’d never bothered to do a hem on them. Her hair was tied back in a loose braid that fell down her back and she wore minimal makeup.

“I’m just saying that, especially compared to the women you must usually date, I’m not exactly a stunner.”

She found herself being pushed gently back on to the sofa as he knelt before her.

“Hermione,” he breathed into her ear, leaning forward to nuzzle her neck, “there is nothing about you that is not enticing, intoxicating, and delicious.”

He pulled back, meeting her gaze. “Why must you question me every step of the way?”

Nimble hands reached for the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it over her head. She curled up slightly, feeling very self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He reached for her arms, pulling them away from her body.

“Draco, what are you doing?” she whispered, sounding distressed.

He leaned in again, chuckling softly. “I’m showing you exactly how beautiful and desirable you really are.”

He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck, gradually tracing the slender column with his lips and tongue before moving downwards. His long fingers stroked lightly over the swell of her breasts before reaching behind her to release the clasp of her bra. As he eased the garment from her body, he leaned in, pulling a dusky nipple into his mouth.

“How could you ever question your appeal?” He pulled back, meeting her gaze again with lust-darkened eyes. “You’re perfect.” He watched, fascinated, as her nipples pebbled beneath his fingertips. “Everything about you is uniquely Hermione.” His fingertips moved to the silky skin of her lower abdomen, drawing a gasp from her as he traced the soft swell of her tummy.

She drew in a shuddering breath and reached out to stroke his silken platinum strands, noticing as she did so that her arm was trembling violently. Evidently Draco noticed as well, a lazy smile crossing his lips as he went for the zip of her jeans, pulling them off and discarding them in record time.

He stroked the newly exposed skin slowly, reverently, tracing lines up and back on her smooth legs. She felt as though she were melting. Who knew that the knees had to the potential to be erogenous zone? She shivered as he caressed a particularly sensitive patch of ankle, sucking in a sharp breath. Opening her eyes, she noted the glint of amusement in his expression and decided to take matters into her own hands.

Pushing herself to her feet, she grabbed his collar and jerked him up from his kneeling stance, leading him to the bedroom. She was filled with a sudden burst of confidence as she did so. He’d been treating her body with the utmost reverence, practically worshipping it, and the desire glowing in those smoldering silver eyes was enough to accomplish the impossible. He’d made her feel beautiful. And for that, she was determined to reward him appropriately.

She pushed him down on the bed, still clad only in her knickers, and began stripping the clothing off of his body piece by piece. Unlike herself, Draco was neither shy nor modest. He watched in anticipation, making no attempt to resist as she revealed his nude form.

Finally reaching the final layer, his shorts, she paused to admire her handiwork. He lay back, watching silently, his lean, strong arms tucked behind his head. His bare chest gleamed in the moonlight filtering through her window pane, tapering to a narrow waist and hips, the muscles of his abdomen evident above the line of his boxers. He, evidently, was enjoying the show as much as she, judging by the rather substantial tenting of the crisp green material.

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband, pulling them carefully over his swollen arousal. As she yanked them down his legs and tossed them aside, she couldn’t help the little sigh that escaped her lips. The sight of Draco Malfoy, complete with a massive and leaking erection, sprawled across her bed in the moonlight, was too beautiful for words. He remained uncharacteristically quiet, content to let her run the show as she obviously planned on doing.

She slipped off her knickers, climbing on to the bed and crawling up his body slowly before straddling his hips and sinking slowly on to him, allowing him entrance to her body. Her breath released with a soft whimper as she took him in, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him.

Draco’s eyes were screwed shut tightly as he felt her enveloping him gradually, wrapping him in searing heat. He couldn’t watch her, couldn’t gaze at her sensuous curves and her head thrown back in pleasure, for he was already too close to the edge. The slow, seductive undressing had done nothing to calm the tide of his arousal, nor had the predatory look in his witch’s dark brown eyes. His erection had been throbbing by the time she’d finished, and as she began to slowly rock against him, he knew it wouldn’t be long.

His hands moved to her hips, caressing the flare of the curve there and sliding around to graze her rounded bottom. She was moaning lowly now, writhing against him, grinding down on him. His fingers curled of their own volition, gripping her hips and guiding her motion. The undulating motion of her body and expression of ecstasy on her face was irresistably sensual and he felt himself losing control, fighting to hold back for as long as possible. The sound of his strained breathing, coming in shallow pants, pushed her over the edge and she cried out as her body convulsed with pleasure and relief.

His grip on her hips tightened, holding her flush against his own hips as they jerked helplessly upwards. She could feel a sudden warmth spread through her as he groaned his release, spilling himself within her. Soon after, her arms gave out and she collapsed against him, snuggling into his chest without bothering to move off of him.

He certainly wasn’t going to complain. His arms tightened around her, holding her close and breathing in her familiar scent as she quickly succumbed to sleep in his embrace.


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