Haunted

To my wonderful readers:

I extend my sincerest apologies for the tardiness of this chapter. I know it's been such a long time and I haven't updated any of my stories in a long while but I promise there are perfectly logical reasons. My life is starting to level out again which mean I should be updating faster (hopefully). Again, I am so, so sorry for how long this took to get out and I appreciate you hanging with me for so long.

So here you are, after long last. The next chapter!

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Draco stared out at the night sky, his thoughts racing by faster than the scenery out the window of the Hogwarts Express. He tried to quell the anger that boiled in his stomach when he thought of the scene he’d walked in on. He’d been so sure that she was warming up to him, but it appeared otherwise. It seemed he was too late and had lost her to none other than Jimmy fucking Pace. The little prick. He didn’t like the way that guy acted, something about him just screamed trouble. But it wasn’t his business; she was free to fuck anyone she wanted.

His fist came down hard on the window sill. Damn it! No, she wasn’t! What did he have to do, what did he have to fucking prove? It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t want her at all, but since he did he wanted all of her. Malfoys didn’t share, even when it came to Muggle-borns.

Shit. How had it come to this? How had she wrapped him around her dainty little finger? It was all he could do not to break into her room and demand she tell Jimmy off. Or, better yet, snap that pretty boy’s neck and show Hermione that it was Draco she wanted, not some Hufflepuff poof.

Of course, if he made his way into her room he doubted very much whether there would be any talking at all.

Groaning, he glided over to his bed and flopped himself onto it, dragging his legs along. As he heaved himself into some semblance of order, he cursed his lame legs. Ever since that single twitch he hadn’t been able to get a thing out of them. Had he just imagined it? Would he ever walk again? How the hell was he supposed to seduce Granger if he couldn’t even fuck her?

Merlin’s balls, his life had gone right down the shitter, hadn’t it?

He heard the doorknob turn and looked up, his breath catching in his chest. She walked in, her sightless eyes to the floor. The door shut as quietly as it was opened and she leaned against it. The moonlight streaming through his window did nothing to diminish her features. She looked like a mysterious faerie, come in the night to steal him away.

They said nothing. He noticed that she had yet to change into pajamas and he wondered what she had been doing. The stuffy room turned sweltering and he pulled himself into a seated position.

“I know what you must think of me,” she said so softly he could hardly hear her. His jaw clenched in an effort to let her say her piece. Images of she and Pace kissing burned across his mind, anger welling up once more. “Please, let me explain.”

He said nothing so she walked forward. “I know you’re in here. I can feel you, I can hear you breathing. I won’t take but a minute of your time.”

He grunted for her to continue so she started forward jerkily, a hand out to feel for the edge of his mattress. She stopped at the end of his bed and looked up at him, or at least at the wall behind him.

“I’m sorry for what happened, I didn’t mean for it. I was unaware he had those kinds of feelings for me. When he kissed me,” she swallowed, her eyes cast down, apparently embarrassed. “When he kissed me, all I could think about was you and how much I wished it was your mouth saying those things. I tried to feel something, but I couldn’t. He’d be good to me, you know? He’s always been very sweet. And yet I couldn’t seem to get you out of my head.”

She spoke very calmly, as if she had thought this all through in great detail. Of course she had, she was Hermione Granger, wasn’t she? But Draco was anything but calm. He started to tell her off but she lifted a hand.

“I know it doesn’t make anything better, I can’t erase the past. I’ve been right horrid to you and I’m sorry, again, for acting that way. You hurt me so much.” When she swiped the heel of her hand across her cheek, Draco was stunned. Was she crying? “I just wanted to get over you; I wanted you to feel that pain too. But that was wrong. I know you didn’t have a choice. I don’t know why you went back, but I trust that you were doing what you had to for your family. I didn’t mean to fall for you and it certainly wasn’t your fault that I did so. Well, I mean, it was,” she let out a watery laugh, took a deep breath.

“What I guess I’m trying to say through all this incomprehensible babble is that you have every right to hate me, but you can’t hate me without knowing the whole story. I don’t want Jimmy,” she said sternly, looking right into his face somehow. “I want you.”

Well, hell.

His wand was in his hand and he was casting a Silencing Charm on the door before he knew it. The next second he had Summoned Hermione to him and she screamed in terror as she flew across the bed to land atop of him. He took her mouth and ravished it, that scream turning into a moan. They grappled, fighting to catch a grip on the insanity they were consumed by. He couldn’t get enough of her, of her taste, her smell, her feel. He crushed her against him, pulling her closer, taking her deeper, making her feel the fire that raged within him.

He didn’t know how it happened, didn’t know who moved first or that they even had, but he had her on her back and his lame legs were tangled but he just tugged them into position and continued right on kissing her. It wasn’t like he could do anything else; because anytime he moved even a millimeter away she was pulling him back down, drowning him in her kisses. Her sheer need fueled him on and his hands were suddenly everywhere, taking in every piece of the girl beneath him.

She wanted him.

Hermione Granger wanted him. Him. Draco Abraxas Malfoy.

And Draco thought he had problems.

It didn’t matter, not anymore. Not when she was writhing beneath him, her innocent body begging for his touch, her quiet whimpers urging him on. He was harder than he could ever remember being, every muscle in his body taught with a lust only she could sate. Her fingers clenched his shoulders, sliding down his arms. He unconsciously flexed and she purred in approval. But it wasn’t enough. She was here, he had her and she had admitted to wanting him as well. Now there was nothing stopping them, no bars to separate them. The truth was laid out between them, raw and confusing and powerful. He would have her, he had to have her. There was nothing he’d ever wanted so badly in his life and he wasn’t going to stop until he had it.

His hand sidled up her loose shirt and he marveled at the smoothness of her skin and the sharp intake of breath she produced at his action. He grinned mischievously. She was quite obviously as innocent as he’d always dreamed. This thought did nothing to quell the flame of need he had for her, instead it ignited it and he found it hard to go slow. His palm felt inconceivably rough compared to her silkiness as he climbed to one supple peak and massaged it while Hermione’s eyes rolled. Glancing down he admired the beauty of what was before him and realized that if he were any harder he could cut diamond.

Hermione had never felt so many emotions at once. She was terrified and thrilled all at once with a longing and a burning she’d only come across in these past weeks from the man who was even now going further with her than any had gone before. Never had she felt so wanton, so feminine. And the way he was touching her was driving her mad beyond repair. And yet, deep inside, she was aching for the chance to see him, to know this was real and not some sick figment of her imagination.

“Draco,” she whispered as his lips sailed down her neck leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Tell me this is real, tell me it’s you.”

His mouth left her skin but his hands continued to knead her small mounds making her arch to his touch.

“It’s me, Hermione. Like it’s never been anyone else. No one else will ever make you feel this way. Never doubt this. Never.”

His lips sought hers out again and she was riding a wave of passion and need. He tore her flimsy shirt over her head and then his hands were on the buttons of her jeans. She sucked in a breath knowing that this was the point of no return. There was no turning back from this. He didn’t ask, didn’t slow, just took and took all that she had to give and her heart pounded as that last barrier was stripped away and she was laid bare for him. Her teeth sought her bottom lip as she had no idea what his reaction was, not able to see his face. Nervous, she cleared her throat.

“I know it’s not much to see-,”

“Arrête mon amour. Tu es parfaite, exquise. You’re beautiful.”

His smooth French lay over her like a swath of silk and she was floored that he knew the language. Then again, of course he would. A vacation there was no more than a fireplace away. But actions followed his words and his rough hands and hot, wet lips began systematically driving her wild. He couldn’t touch enough, it seemed, and soon there was no part of her unsearched, except for the one portion which needed it the most. She lifted her hips to his deft fingers which were skittering over her inner thighs. She could feel the sticky wetness coating her most private area and wondered if it was normal. She was a bit embarrassed, but nothing was going to stop her now, not even her own inhibitions.

She didn’t dare to breathe when his hand slid down to her crease and held that breath as one finger slowly delved in, rubbing ever so softly and igniting her pleasure like gasoline to a fire. When he found her little nubbin and rubbed ever so gently the breath whooshed out of her on a moan and she lifted her hips ever higher into his hand, begging for friction.

“Shh,” he hushed her gently. “Don’t worry, I will give you everything you have ever wanted and more.”

How had his voice become so…erotic? Even his breath at her ear was stirring that ever-present need.

His hands continued their exploration and just when she thought she might go mad at his touch, one of his fingers pushed inside her and she cried out. He pumped the single digit slowly, excruciatingly so. She moaned, begging for more with her hands, which were gripping his shoulder and side, and her mouth, which was beginning to learn of the sensual smoothness of his neck.

“Please,” she whispered, although she wasn’t quite sure what she was begging for. Just more.

He chuckled low in his throat and as his lips closed over her breast, he added another finger and pushed Hermione into utter bliss. As his fingers worked her at amazing speeds her eyes rolled and a tingling sensations spread throughout her body, capturing her in the single most amazing feeling she’d ever felt.

She floated back down slowly with his mouth on hers. She tried to thank him with her kisses, to tell him exactly what he had given her but somehow, she felt he already knew.

She was suddenly very aware that she was completely naked and Draco was still fully clothed. Eager to fix this, she tugged at his shirt and he helped her pull it off. Sorrow lay heavy on her heart that she would never be able to see his body, to witness the beauty she knew he exuded. But she would not let this stop her. The scholar in her could find ways around such trifle obstacles. She shifted them so he was laying flat on his back and she straddled his hips and began her exploration of Draco Malfoy. For a moment she just breathed him in, that scent that permeated the air in every room he graced. She could know that smell anywhere; it haunted her dreams. Oh, how she longed to see him now. She couldn’t imagine his face would be hard with troubles or twisted with hate. As those were the only faces she’d seen of him it would be nice to know what he looked like relaxed or as intensely elated as she. But there was only one way she could see him now.

“Let me touch you,” she whispered, her fingertips sailing over his smooth cheeks, his sweaty temples. “Let me feel you, know you. Let me see you.”

Using her fingertips for her eyes, she glided them over every plane, every valley and hill of his neck, his chest, strong shoulders and arms. She felt the smoothness of his skin, the steel of the muscles beneath. She could feel the erratic pulse in his neck and knew he was feeling the same as she, even without the hard evidence pressing against her bottom. Somehow she could make him feel the way she did every time he touched her. His breath hitched as she moved lower, ever closer to his manhood. But she didn’t touch it, not yet. She wanted to have him begging for her, she wanted to feel that power over him and know, without a doubt, that he needed her too.

Sliding down his dead legs she found the waistband of his boxers and hooked her fingers around them, tugging them down as he sucked in a breath and held it. Pushing the obtrusive material down his legs and off, she threw it to the ground to join her other garments. Hermione reveled in the silky hair on his upper thighs and trailed the tips of her fingers over the smooth skin there as he whispered desperately to her, urging her on. Biting her lip, Hermione tried not to smile in her utter glee as he groaned every time she got close to his member.

“Fuck, Hermione! If you don’t touch me now I’m going to explode!”

Figuring it was as close to begging as she was going to get, Hermione moved in for the kill.

Her fingers brushed over the very tip feeling a bead of moisture which had gathered there. Curious, she used her thumb to spread it around and when he moaned she knew she was doing something right and quickened the movement while her other fingers explored the unusually soft skin of his erection. It was like silk over steel. Only allowing the tips of her fingers to touch, she felt the entire (rather intimidating) length. She had somehow imagined the male anatomy smaller and less…grandiose. Just the feel of him was better than anything she could have imagined. He was rock-hard and so large she shuddered just imagining him inside her, filling her up.

“Please, Hermione,” he ground out through obviously barred teeth. But she didn’t quicken her pace, she continued to explore, even cupping his balls and playing with the fine hair there. So fascinated was she by her explorations that she didn’t notice Draco’s accelerated breathing until his hand came around hers roughly, forcing her hand to circle his cock. He yanked her hand up and down and she let him take control as his hips lifted from the bed, a moan escaping his lips. His hand left hers but she didn’t stop, didn’t slow, and soon she was as heated as he. Hermione could feel the wetness coating her thighs and the movement of his hips had her so hot she could hardly stand it. His hand came to her hair and he pulled her up and kissed her urgently, his need consuming her. He ravished her lips and pulled her to straddle his legs, her wet core pressed against his shaft. He moaned as he rubbed his length between her wet lips and she gasped against his mouth at the sensation. She pressed harder against him, wild for friction, for the heat, for him.

“Hermione,” he murmured. “I’ve wanted you for so long, you have no idea.”

“I do,” she sighed. “Draco, I’ve never felt this way, never needed anyone like I need you. You make me feel things I can’t explain.”

“You don’t have to.” He kissed he neck sending electricity right to her aching nub and she rubbed against him harder. She had known before she’d even walked into his room that she would give herself to him, the man who had more of her, of her heart, than she cared to admit. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remind herself not to fall, not again. It didn’t matter, couldn’t matter, that he would never feel for her what she felt for him. All that mattered was that he was here and he wanted her on at least some level. It would be enough. It had to. And still her heart ached.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Yes.”

He kissed her tenderly, his hands stroking her curls, pushing them from her face. “It will hurt, but only for a moment. I’m so sorry I can’t give you more, but someday, I swear, when I can use my legs again, I’ll show you everything.”

Hermione tried not to take his comment to heart. Even if this was the only night they had, she would cherish it. She had no hopes for a future, but she would take every moment with him she could get because when he left again he would take every piece of her that mattered with him. He filled every lost place in her and when he left again she would be empty.

Because she loved him.

His hands stroked down her sides to her hips and she turned off her mind and focused entirely on the new sensations he created within her. He guided her over him and she held her breath as the tip of him slid over her sensitive slit, lingering over her opening, rubbing, rubbing, until her hips were swaying of their own accord. He lifted his hips just slightly, allowing himself to enter her by millimeters, the stretching hinting to what was to come and she whimpered, but he exited and continued rubbing until she was so wet she couldn’t stand it.

“Please, Draco,” she moaned. He found her lips and kissed her hard. Then, without warning, he centered her and he grabbed her hips and pulled her down hard, piercing into her to the hilt. A burning, ripping sensation made her cry out and she tried to pull away from him, away from the pain, but her held her close, pulling her down so their chests were pressed together, one hand holding her head to his heart, the other rubbing her back as the pain ebbed and she realized he was talking to her, apologizing.

“That’s the worst, it will be better now,” he promised, his lips caressing her forehead. “Are you alright?”

She nodded and honestly, the pain had waned to a soft throbbing. He kissed her again and pulled her hips up, then back down. She moaned, the feel of him inside her overriding any lingering aches. She knew instinctively that she was in charge, his lack of leg power making it hard for him to do much more than lift his hips and that would grow tiring for him. She was nervous, suddenly, unsure of what to do.

“Show me,” she asked him. “Show me how to please you.”

He chuckled softly, his hands sliding down the outside of her thighs to her knees and he pulled them higher and tighter to his body. Then he anchored her hips and kissed her shoulder.

“Just go with what you feel,” he whispered into the shell of her ear, making her shiver. So she did, lifting her hips and pushing them back down, the movement making her eyes roll. She moved slowly at first, taking in the feel of him filling her up, completing her. He moaned and praised her, his words pushing her on. Soon the slow glide of her movements, though seductive, were not enough. She wanted more, needed more. So she took it, riding him hard and fast, her hips whipping against his as he reached up to meet hers and going higher, harder, faster. He panted against her neck, his teeth nipping that sensitive skin and making her moan. She could feel that ball of heat building in her once more, growing to unimaginable heights that his fingers had only hinted at. Her legs were growing tired but nothing could stop her, not now, not when she was so close.

“Come for me, love,” he murmured, his fingers digging into her bottom, bringing her down harder as she moaned, that coil building and building inside her until it burst open and she cried out as her body exploded and Draco bucked beneath her, calling out her name as he yanked her roughly against him, holding her there. Entangled and as close as they could get to one another they gasped, sated. Grasping each other tightly they basked in the wonderment of what they’d shared.

Coming back down to earth, Hermione’s lips found his neck and she kissed and licked as his breathing returned to normal, but his hold never loosened. She could feel his heart racing and taste the salt on his skin, smell the musk of their coupling and still it wasn’t enough. She yearned to look into his eyes, to see their bodies entwined and know for certain this was real.

Not a word was said between them for several long minutes and Hermione soaked in the reality of the moment. Draco Malfoy had taken her virginity and was still currently inside her, holding her, kissing her sweaty forehead. A moment she had longed for was here and the gravity of the situation was not lost on her. She had given her heart to a man who had spent most of his life fighting against her and everything she stood for. She didn’t know how long or if he would stay and her heart clenched knowing that he would leave her some day when the war was over. She knew this was probably the biggest mistake of her life, but she couldn’t get herself to regret it, not when she felt so warm and safe and loved. Would she ever feel like this again?

“Turn off your mind for a minute, will you? It’s exhausting watching you think so much.”

She smiled and he kissed her softly, his knuckles brushing her cheek. “How are you?” he asked.

“Perfect,” she sighed. He chuckled and laid her head back on his shoulder. She cuddled closer and pretended, just for tonight, that they could be like this forever.

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Hermione woke to someone kissing the back of her neck. She remembered the events of the night before and smiled, leaning back into Draco’s chest, opening her throat for more of his explorations. She sighed as he moved to her shoulder and down her arm, tugging her closer so that she could feel his sizable erection against the small of her back.

“Draco,” she sighed.

“As much as I would like to continue this, you should probably get to your room before someone wakes up and notices you’re not in your bed.”

Hermione groaned, imagining if any of the others found out about them. What would they think? The boys would hate her, Mrs. Weasley would be so disappointed…well, at least Ginny would be happy for her.

She turned around and found his lips. They kissed slowly until she heard voices downstairs. Draco found her clothes and she dressed quickly, soaking her panties in the mixture of juices that dripped from between her legs. From all the talk she’d heard about this carnal act she’d never once been told how messy it was.

She turned to leave but he pulled her back for one more hard kiss. She tried to pull away but he held her in place. She laughed against his lips which were smiling back at her.

“Draco, really,” she said before he took her lips again. “Draco! Come on, I have to go!”

“We could squeeze in another quick round.”

“What if someone walks in?”

“Door’s locked.” She could hear the humor in his voice and kissed him again.

“Remember you were the one who told me to leave.”

“I take it back. Come to bed.”

“No, Draco, I need a shower!”

“I’ll join you.”

She laughed. “You are incorrigible.”

“Indulge me.”

“Draco-,”

“Fine, fine. Just leave me to my own devices. I suppose a person can’t really die from want, can they?” he sighed sardonically.

“So dramatic!”

“I’m a Malfoy.”

“That is true, I suppose.”

Hermione jumped when she heard someone on the stairs. “I have to go.”

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll see you in the shower.”

“Draco!”

“Hurry, now. Mrs. Weasley won’t fancy you sneaking out of my room.”

“You-,”

“Go on!”

Grinning from ear to ear Hermione hurried across the hall, fumbling for her doorknob as the footsteps grew louder. She swung the door open and stumbled inside closing it softly behind her. She was three steps to her bed when a knock sounded and the door swung in.

“Sorry to wake you so early dear but- oh! You’re already up! Good, good, come along downstairs and we’ll all have breakfast while we talk,” Mrs. Weasley stated, bustling into her room. “No sense in an empty stomach. Oh, dear, you wore that shirt yesterday. Wait, I’ll grab you a new one, how does that sound? Here, what about this one? This green is just lovely on you. Go on, put it on and I’ll see you in the kitchen. I need to get back to that bacon before it burns.”

Mrs. Weasley pressed the shirt into Hermione’s hand and exited as quickly as she’d come. Shaking her head, Hermione changed her clothes and used her wand to clean the mess so Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t get suspicious. After groping around on her bedside table for a hair band she pulled her thick tresses back and grabbed her cane. She was just shutting her door behind her when she heard a muffled grunt which sounded like it came from Draco’s room. Wondering what he was doing she started across the hall and ran when she heard a loud crash and gurgled cries. Screaming Draco’s name she fumbled for his door and flung it open, sprinting towards the noise, tripping over something soft. Panic gripped her heart as she realized it was him and he was twitching, horrid choking yells being ripped from his throat.

“Mrs. Weasley! Ginny! Somebody! Help!” Hermione shrieked, her mind frantic. “Draco, can you hear me?”

She felt his chest, his clammy face, the drool leaking from the side of his slack mouth. Never had Hermione felt so helpless. She screamed for help again and heard footsteps crashing up the stairs while she continued to speak to Draco, turning him on his side to open his air passage.

“What happened?” Mrs. Weasley cried, somebody behind her gasping.

“I don’t know, I heard a crash and-,”

“Ginny, get your father, quickly!”

Hermione felt Draco being levitated out of her hands and stood with him.

“Where are you taking him?”

“To St. Mungo’s, dear. Stay here, there’s nothing you can do for him now. I’ll send Ginny back as soon as we know anything.”

“I can’t leave him,” she said, following the sickening sounds of Draco struggling for air, tripping on the stairs in her haste to stay as close to him as she could.

“You can’t do anything for him, Hermione. We need you here to watch Headquarters. Arthur, quickly, he’s choking!”

“But-,”

Small hands grabbed her shoulders and stopped her at the foot of the stairs.

“We’ll take care of him,” Ginny murmured. “I won’t leave his side, I promise. I’ll be back as soon as we know anything.”

“Ginny!”

With one last squeeze the redhead left her and Hermione was left alone, more scared than she’d ever been in her life.

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A/N: Thanks to my friend Nell for help with my French! Arrête mon amour. Tu es parfaite, exquise: Stop, my love. You are perfect, exquisite.

Until next time,


XOXO

Ryn