Catalyst

A/N: I’m so sorry that it was so much longer than usual between updates! This chapter has been in the works for SO long but I had a very hard time deciding where I wanted to go with it.

A huge thanks to Michelle- gardengirlgarden for being such a brilliant and adorably fun Beta!

Previously:

Hermione grunted in response, as her scathing glare was temporarily out of commission in her elation. “Please. You know you couldn’t bear to be without me.”

The corners of his lips turned up slightly in a lazy half-smile. “So it would seem,” he whispered pulling her close again.

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Eventually, a not-so-discreet cough pulled the two lovers back to reality, reminding that them they did, in fact, still have an audience.

“So where’s this alleged ring?” demanded Ginny. “We read all about it in the Prophet. Let’s see.”

Draco gave her a stern look. “Shut it, little weasel-“

He gave a sharp cry and rubbed the sore spot on his ribcage where Hermione had just jabbed him roughly with her elbow.

“She has a name, Draco.”

“Fine. Ginny, then. This isn’t exactly how I meant to present the ring, in her living room with you lot all standing around. I had a whole scenario planned out, in the dungeons-”

“The dungeons?” Hermione demanded incredulously.

“That’s right. I remembered how you were always bringing them up when I first brought you to the Manor,” he answered with a snicker. “Anyhow, I was going to transfigure the ring into some sort of torture device to scare you with. I’d come in with it after you were chained to the wall, and then when I had you totally terrified, I’d change it back and surprise you.”

The room fell silent. Hermione stared at him.

“What? It would’ve been a surprise,” he continued defensively, looking for support from Harry and Ron, who were currently turning purple with the effort of holding in their laughter while Ginny gaped at him with an expression of horror.

“Malfoy,” she began, “I’m not even going to begin to go into the many levels on which that would have been horribly wrong and inappropriate. Let’s just be grateful that Hermione intercepted you when she did.”

The tension broke and Harry and Ron howled with laughter, unable to contain their mirth any longer.

Draco scowled and began rummaging through his inner pockets while Hermione looked a bit shamefaced at the reminder of her rather abrupt intrusion. Finally locating the small black velvet box, he snapped it open and pulled the ring from the plush folds of the lining.

Hermione and Ginny gasped, while Ron and Harry gaped. Draco pulled her hand into his, sliding the ring onto her finger and tapping it with his wand to size it. Hermione lifted her hand, gazing at the diamond as it twinkled brilliantly in the light.

“Malfoy, you may be total shit at proposals, but you do know how to pick a ring,” offered Ginny.

“Yes, well,” replied Draco dryly. “Mother and Father had quite a bit to do with that. With all of it, actually. I consider myself fortunate that they let me propose on my own. Mum had quite a few doubts as to whether I’d manage to convince her, and she’s quite excited at the prospect of Hermione as a daughter-in-law.”

The final pieces of the puzzle clicked into place as she remembered the comments from the article and the bits of conversation she had overheard. Her glow of happiness faded slightly as she remembered how she’d spoken to Draco’s parents, assuming the worst about them as well as Draco himself.

Draco caught her troubled expression and frowned. “What?” he demanded. “Do you not like the ring? You don’t have to keep that one if-“

“It’s not that,” She cut him off. “It’s just that I was so terrible to your parents.” She bit her lip and stared down at her hands. “I do feel quite badly about that now.”

“Justifiably so, I’d say,” he answered, his teasing smile belying the harshness of his words.

Ginny sent him a fierce glare as Hermione’s face fell even further.

Draco sighed. “I’m only joking. Believe me, they’ll forgive you once we tell them you’ve accepted. Speaking of which, if I’m not mistaken, they’ll be waiting rather anxiously for news. As, I suspect, are your own parents.”

“My parents knew that you were planning on proposing?”

Draco looked offended. “Hermione, do you honestly think I’d ask for your hand in marriage without consulting your parents? Specifically that terrifying Muggle you call a father? I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t ask our permission though, did you Malfoy?” Ron’s expression had suddenly darkened.

“No, I didn’t,” replied Draco defiantly, “because I didn’t need it, Weasel.”

Ron continued to glower and Harry looked a bit insulted.

“You do realize that you aren’t actually related to Hermione? That you don’t wield any sort of influence over her life?”

Harry’s expression hardened while Ron looked positively mutinous.

Draco sighed. “Well it isn’t as if you two didn’t essentially give me your blessing when you decided to play matchmaker last summer. Remember that? You all but threw her at me, so I hardly thought you’d have any objection.”

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. Finally, Harry shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘close enough,’ and he and Ron broke into smiles, enveloping Draco in a manly embrace, thumping him on the back affectionately. Ginny looked uncharacteristically sentimental and a bit misty-eyed as she offered her own congratulations.

Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “Come along, sweet cheeks.” He laughed and dodged her elbow as she moved to jab him again at the sound of the term of the ridiculous term of endearment. “We’ve got announcements to make.”

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Their first stop of had been the Manor. Hermione had been filled with dread at the prospect of facing Draco’s parents after they’d endured her outburst. She’d actually yelled at Lucius Malfoy! At the very least, she was anticipating the return of the cold cruelty he’d always shown her in years past. She didn’t even want to contemplate what the worst could be.

She needn’t have worried. Draco had his parents pegged, and true to his prediction, they were delighted that she had accepted their son’s proposal. Narcissa had teared up and thrown her arms around Hermione, promising to give her the same talk that Lucius’s mother had given her before their own wedding, on how to handle a Malfoy man over the years. At Hermione’s horrified expression, she’d just laughed and swept from the room to begin making arrangements for the wedding. The younger witch had been left listening to Lucius’s lecture to Draco on married life and wondering what on earth she’d gotten herself into.

When Lucius had started in on the appropriate methods of handling women’s heightened emotional states during their monthlies, Draco brought the conversation to a halt, sensing that the tolerance of his future bride was being stretched severely. She’d given him a scathing look as they’d apparated to her parents’ back yard.

“It could have been much worse,” had been his only comment, shrugging apologetically.

Her own parents hadn’t behaved much better. Her mother had burst into tears, exclaiming that she’d given up hope several years ago. Hermione had pointed out through gritted teeth that she was only twenty-four and hardly past her prime. This, apparently, had been the wrong thing to say, as it set off an immediate line of questioning as to when they could expect grandchildren.

Throughout her mother’s tirade, her father had grown more and more distraught, finally beginning to hyperventilate at the idea of his only daughter, still little more than a child herself, bearing her own children. Once he’d calmed himself and resumed breathing normally, he’d proceeded to watch Draco through narrowed eyes for the rest of the afternoon, as though expecting the young man to impregnate his daughter at any moment.

After they’d left the Granger residence, they’d both felt that they could use a bit of time to themselves and had headed for a posh restaurant in Diagon Alley to celebrate. As luck would have it, Draco had forgotten that today was in fact Blaise Zabini’s birthday, and that Blaise Zabini very much enjoyed celebrating in posh restaurants.

Upon entering the restaurant, they were greeted with a rousing welcome as the large party of former Slytherins made room for them at their table.

“We didn’t think you were going to make it, Malfoy!” boomed Vincent Crabbe, beaming at the blonde.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Draco answered with an apologetic glance at Hermione. He had actually intended to join the celebration, but had forgotten about it in the chaos of the morning’s events, and he hadn’t known that they were planning on dining at that specific restaurant.

“Not to be rude,” sneered Pansy Parkinson, casting Hermione a look that suggested she fully intended to be as offensive as possible, “but I thought you two split up.”

“Evidently not.” There was a note of warning in Draco’s voice that caused Pansy to quiet, despite her disgusted expression.

“Good to see you, Granger.” Blaise smiled coolly at the flustered brunette witch, passing her a menu.

As she reached for it, the diamond sitting atop her left ring finger caught the light, sparkling brilliantly. Pansy’s eyes narrowed into slits as she caught sight of the twinkling jewel. Her lips curled into an unpleasant smile and she gave a bitter bark of laughter.

“Something funny, Pansy?” Draco’s grey eyes glittered dangerously, daring her to comment.

She contemplated him for a moment, then shrugged and sat back, leaning over to whisper into the ear of the girl next to her. Hermione couldn’t remember the other witch’s name, though she knew that she’d been in their year. She turned her attention back to the menu, making a valiant attempt to ignore the curious stares of the men and the veiled hostility of the women at the table.

“So, tell me Granger. When did you two get engaged?”

Hermione looked up to find a familiar face gazing at her intently. Bulstrode. Millicent Bulstrode. She felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. She and Millicent had not spoken openly since the rather violent conclusion of their duel in second year. She gulped slightly and contemplated her response carefully as visions of the bulkier girl leaping across the table and beating her senseless filled her mind’s eye.

“Just today, actually.”

Draco squeezed her hand encouragingly under the table while continuing his conversation with a man on his other side.

“Congratulations then.” Millicent flashed her a smile, which came off somewhat menacing despite her apparent good wishes. Still, she sounded genuine, and Hermione was in no position to turn down a friend in this situation.

“Thank you.”

The two women began chatting, the conversation slightly stilted but amiable. Millicent turned out to be decent company, actually. She was gruff, to be sure, but like Hermione, her interests ran deeper than the latest fashion and gossip, and her bluntness was actually refreshing, though a bit intimidating.

After the first course, Hermione excused herself to the ladies’ room. She was just about to emerge from her stall when the sharp click of heels sounded on the tile as the door to the room slammed shut. The two newcomers were giggling and whispering as they entered, the volume of their voices escalating as they moved into what they perceived to be a private area.

“-almost feel sorry for her,” came Pansy’s high-pitched whine. “I give it a year, tops.”

“Did you see her? When I heard the rumors, I’d assumed she’d at least grown out of the ugly duckling phase.”

“At least he won’t have to worry about her letting herself go. She’s got absolutely no room to fall,” Pansy snickered. “It’s a phase. Draco may think that whole earth-mother thing is appealing now, but after spending a few weeks in the constant presence of a sloppy mudblood too wrapped up in whatever rubbish it is she does at the Ministry to perform the most basic of grooming tasks, he’ll be tossing her out on her fat arse.”

Hermione stood behind the door, too stunned to formulate any sort of response or plan of action. Instead, she remained silent and still, listening to their continued criticisms of various aspects of her appearance, elaborating on the many reasons that Draco would not tolerate such coarseness in his bride. Eventually they finished touching up their carefully constructed masks of cosmetics and charms and vacated the bathroom, leaving Hermione on her own.

She emerged from the stall and stepped forward to wash her hands, gazing at her own reflection as she did so. She dried her hands slowly, contemplating their derisive comments and wondering about their validity. As she obsessed over Pansy’s several references to her “fat arse” and apparent resemblance to a Yeti, she came to an abrupt conclusion. She’d had enough. Every person had limits, and she had just reached hers. She could either continue to agonize over her potential deficiencies as perceived by the snide socialite, or she could remind herself that Draco wanted to marry her, and he hadn’t stipulated that she had to downsize her arse or make herself over before he’d do so.

She left the washroom, sauntering confidently to the table where she dropped a kiss on Draco’s cheek before seating herself. He looked up and gave her a small smile, wrapping his arm around her possessively where she sat.

“I was getting worried,” he murmured in her ear. “I saw Pansy and Tracy go right after you left.”

She gave him a dazzling smile. “Nothing to worry about,” she assured him, turning frosty eyes on Pansy, who was looking distinctly nervous as realization dawned. Hermione could see the blonde woman squirming as she tried to ascertain whether or not Hermione would be filling Draco in on what she had overheard in the ladies’ room.

“Good. Do you mind terribly if we stay a bit longer?” He looked apologetic.

“Not at all.”

She looked up to notice Millicent watching her, an expression of amusement on the other woman’s face. Once Draco had been engaged in conversation again, she leaned in slightly towards Hermione.

“Run-in with Pansy, then?”

“Not so much a run-in as a verbal ambush. She didn’t know I was listening.”

Millicent rolled her eyes. “Figures. Stupid cow is so jealous she can’t see straight.”

A squeal of high-pitched giggling came from the other end of the table where Pansy was seated. Millicent rolled her eyes and glared down at the smaller witch.

“Pansy, would you please just shut the fuck up?” she barked, turning back to Hermione and rolling her eyes as she cursed viciously under her breath.

Pansy sniffed, looking affronted, and slumped back in her chair with a sour expression on her face.

“Finally,” Millicent harrumphed, looking satisfied.

Hermione tried to stifle a grin. Failing miserably, she allowed a complacent smile to cross her lips as she fixed Pansy with a victorious gaze. She turned back to find Draco observing the exchange with interest, an amused smile twitching at the corners of his lips. He arched an eyebrow.

“All settled, then?”

“All settled.” She pulled him in to drop a kiss on his cheek.

“Let’s get out of here so I can stake my claim on you officially.”

She rolled her eyes at his lewd expression, but grinned despite herself. “No arguments here. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” she murmured into his ear in a deliberately sultry voice and the flush of arousal that appeared high on his pale cheeks.

He turned to meet her gaze, his silvery eyes devouring her, lit with desire.

“Check please.”

Minutes later they reappeared in Hermione’s flat, having said their goodbyes and settled the bill. Draco wasted no time in seizing Hermione and pulling her to him roughly for a deep kiss. It wasn’t long before the kiss escalated as lips, tongues, and hands roved and clothing was shed.

A plaintive vocalization sounded from around their feet, and Hermione pulled away abruptly, cooing to the large ginger cat as she soothed his apparently wounded feelings at being neglected.

Draco groaned. “No, no, no. No bloody cat tonight, Granger.” He glared at the furry monstrosity currently cradled happily in her arms. He could’ve sworn that the animal was smirking at him.

“That’s it.”

Without further adieu, he plucked the protesting cat from her arms and tossed him onto the sofa, casting a temporary immobility hex. He then proceeded to seize her by the arm and pull her down the hall to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them before breathing a sigh of relief.

“You jinxed my cat!” Hermione had apparently been shouting at him for some time, but only now was it penetrating the fog of annoyance that had occupied his brain.

He scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. “It’s only temporary. He’ll get better.”

She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. He could sense the impending danger of a full-fledged “Wrath of Hermione Granger” headed his way and decided to attempt to circumvent it.

“No. You absolutely cannot argue with me about this. Unless you want that cat popping up, screeching and wailing, during every intimate moment for the rest of our lives, someone has to put an end to it. And somehow, Hermione, I don’t think a little spray of water or a bop on the nose will go far towards reforming that wild beast.”

She scowled at him. It was hard to argue, given that she herself had experimented with all the tried and true methods of training her beloved cat, all to no avail. Crookshanks would simply look at her scornfully and resume his previous activity with increased fervor, be it swatting at her hair or shredding her carpet. She had long since given up on training him, but she supposed that it would be necessary to set some boundaries, especially now that he would be living with Draco and herself. The reminder of living with Draco, and of their engagement, went a long way towards banishing the irritation she’d felt at his hexing of her cat.

“I suppose that you have a point.”

“Too bloody right, I do,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “May I please shag you now?” he demanded impatiently.

Her eyes narrowed at him and he immediately realized his mistake. “I meant,” he began, frantically searching for the right words, “may I please make mad, passionate love to the woman that I adore and desire desperately and cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with?” The coarseness of his voice belied the sweetness of his words. He was quite clearly calculating the fastest way to get his lovely fiancée into bed.

She watched him silently for a moment, a pensive expression on her face. “Now that,” she began, “would have been a good proposal.” She giggled slightly at his pleading expression.

He smiled smugly.

“But you should never end a sentence with a preposition,” she continued primly, giggling at his scowl and allowing herself to be pinned to the bed by a very frustrated and aroused Draco.

“That’s it,” he growled. “You’ve become far too cheeky. Clearly you need to be reminded of your proper place.”

“And you think that you’re up to the task, do you?” she asked skeptically.

“Funny you should mention that,” he retorted, a lascivious grin on his face as he pressed his hips against hers, demonstrating just how “up to the task” he was.

She let out a breathy laugh. “I’m feeling quite resistant,” she mused. “It may require more stamina than you have at your disposal.”

His eyes narrowed as he stood abruptly and made short work of their remaining clothes.

“I think you’ll find that I’ve more stamina than you’ll be able to handle, Miss Granger,” he answered, shucking his shorts as he spoke, his eyes glittering at her challenge.

She looked his body over hungrily, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as her eyes fell upon the evidence of his desire. She fell back on the bed and stretched luxuriantly.

“Then by all means…”

He pounced, pinning her beneath the weight of his body once more. Pulling her wrists together, he stretched her arms out above her head before bending to nip lightly at the slender column of her neck.

Hermione felt her body go slack under his, rapidly becoming in lost in the dizzying sensation of his slow, wet kisses and caresses. His movements were languid as he moved over her body, delighting in the flushed, hypersensitive skin. He paused to blow cool air over the patch of her tummy he had just kissed, chuckling softly as she shivered at the sensation.

Hermione could feel him moving downward, growing ever nearer to the juncture of her legs. She knew where he was headed and what he was about to do, but couldn’t muster the energy or even the will to stop him. Even if it was still a bit unnerving to have someone’s mouth there, she was too far gone to worry about that at the moment.

She could feel his heated breath ghosting over her and nearly went rigid with anticipation before his tongue grazed her outer lips. She gasped audibly and made an unintelligible guttural noise before falling silent, her hands fisted tightly in the bedclothes. Smiling inwardly at her receptiveness, he continued to probe gently, his tongue warm and wet.

Her fingers twined through the silky strands of his hair before he felt himself being yanked roughly upwards.

“Ow!” He pulled away, cursing under his breath and rubbing at his sore scalp.

“I thought you were going to show me my ‘proper place’,” she reminded him. Her brown eyes were dark with desire and gleaming with amusement as she watched his expression change. His eyes narrowed once more and he disappeared suddenly off the foot of the bed.

“Draco?”

He popped back up suddenly, looking triumphant. She heard him muttering as ribbons shot out from his wand, binding her limbs securely to the four posts of the bed.

“Draco?” Her voice was smaller this time and held a hint of fear.

His expression morphed immediately into one of regret. “I’m sorry, I’ll take them off-“

“No. Just,” she hesitated, “be a bit careful.”

He tossed his wand aside. “Right.” He crawled up the bed, kissing and caressing his way up from her ankles to her neck as he moved with agonizing slowness.

“Draco.” She was whining now. He laughed softly as he settled atop her, nuzzling her neck. She bucked against him as best she could in her restrained position. He pushed back, thrusting his erection against her.

She glared at him.

He smiled back, brushing a curl from her face. “You’re lovely,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

“Nice to know,” she groused, feigning annoyance despite the flutter of happiness she felt at the obvious sincerity in his eyes. “Now get on with it.”

He laughed again but obeyed, shifting to guide himself to her entrance.

“You’re dying for it, aren’t you?” He pushed in about an inch and held steady. “Hot and wet,” he murmured, gyrating slowly, “perfect.”

She pushed against him, working to draw him in.

“How does it feel?” he continued, his voice maddeningly low and hoarse. “How does it feel to be dripping for me, wanting me to slide in and fill you?”

She gasped slightly, blushing even as she whimpered under him.

He finally slid in with a low guttural noise, holding stock still for just a moment before beginning to move. He held her eyes as he slowly thrust, grinding his hips against hers as he moved. She ceased to struggle and lay helpless beneath him, her body taut with the slow build of tension. She wanted to scream at him to move faster, harder, but found herself unable to do anything but lie still and tense, staring into his eyes as her orgasm built excruciatingly slowly.

Nearly there… Almost, almost…

She cried out as the coil of tension broke, her body shuddering in its bonds. Her eyes fluttered but remained open under his intense gaze. She could feel his soothing touch on her cheeks and hear his voice murmuring in her ear as he continued thrusting. Within moments he was groaning and she felt his entire body go rigid above her as he erupted within her.

He collapsed on top of her, panting and burying his face in her neck.

“Draco?” She was hesitant to break the silence.

“Mmmm?”

“Would you undo the spell now?”

There was a moment of silence as he lifted his head to look at her in confusion.

“Oh!” He rolled off the bed and grabbed his wand, muttering the counterspell. As her limbs dropped to the bed, she sighed with relief and stretched lazily. He fell into bed next to her, pulling her close and dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder.

“That was lovely,” she told him, looking shyly into his eyes.

“It was all right? The spell, I mean?” He looked uncharacteristically nervous.

She could feel the blush rising from her chest. She wasn’t sure that she was ready to admit to enjoying being bound to the bed. It was rather kinky by her standards.

“It was nice,” she finally answered, her blush darkening.

He stroked her face gently, occasionally petting her hair. “You are full of surprises, my love.”

“Good thing, that. I’m going to have an awfully long time to keep you on your toes.”

He snorted. “I somehow don’t think you’ll have a problem with that.”

Her reply was interrupted by a pleading sound from the direction of the door. Draco groaned and buried his face in his pillow as Hermione’s eyes lit up.

“Don’t be so cruel, Draco, he sleeps with me every night. He’s probably traumatized from being immobilized,” she pointed out with a glare. “We’ll need to ease him through the transition.”

“Fine.” He watched with interest as she rose from the bed, unmindful of her nudity, and walked to the door to grant the cat entrance. Crookshanks leapt onto the bed before she’d even returned, looking reproachfully at Draco before settling in the center of the bed. Draco prodded him, shoving him to the foot of the bed to make space for Hermione. He pulled her close, spooning her body against his own. The cat bolted to her side, settling in the curve of her waist and purring contentedly.

Hermione was fast asleep within minutes. Draco leaned further into her, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo and listening to the rhythmic pulse of her breathing. His eyes fell on the large ginger cat and narrowed into slits.

“Sleeping arrangements will soon be revised,” he threatened, even as he scratched the animal behind its furry ears. “Bloody cat,” he muttered, settling back down against Hermione’s sleeping form and cuddling her close. His last thought as he drifted off was of how drastically his life had changed over the months since they’d become reacquainted. She’d entered his life uninvited and unwanted, bringing with her the baggage of her mangy cat, terrifying father, and an ever-growing number of overprotective and irritating ex-Gryffindors. Gradually, the entire lot had managed to work their way under his skin. That thought was rather off-putting indeed.

But still…

Hermione snuggled deeper into his arms, sighing softly in her sleep.

She was worth it.

A/N: That’s it folks. *sniffle* Thanks for sticking with me for the entire story and thanks SO much to everyone who left such inspiring and helpful reviews.

There have been some rough moments these last couple of weeks and I really appreciate all the encouragement and moral support from those of you that left reviews and comments on lj. *hugs*

Happy Holidays!


P.S. Any children of the 80’s catch the blatant rip-off of my favorite Tom Cruise flick?

Feedback is always much appreciated!