Softness

Disclaimer #2: I DO NOT own Harry Potter, and I DO NOT make any profit from writing this.

Author's Note: So. Because I actually got a couple of reviews (Thank you guys, for letting me know what you thought, I REALLY appreciate it! It was good to know someone liked what I had to offer, just starting out here on AFF. =D) I decided that I would go ahead and update this story, see where it would take me. There is no definitive plot for it--it's a working brain-child in progress, so... there may some be ridiculous turns it takes. I'm always going to be working on one or two other stories I want to get up on here, but I will try to keep up with this one, updating it at LEAST once a week, maybe more, depending on my muse, and where this tale ends up at. =D Thank you again for the reviews, and please, continue to let me know what you think!


“Undress. Slowly.”

I set my glass to the side, and leaned forward, folding my hands together and resting my chin on my interlaced fingers. The soft glow of the fire in the hearth lit the room just enough for me to see her sly smile, that small, encouraging twitch of her lips, before she took a step towards me, swaying her hips in an exaggerated, but yet seductive, manner.

“Draco Malfoy, did you just give me an order?” she asked, standing before me.

I looked up at her, my posture unchanged. “Yes. And generally when I give orders, I expect them to be followed.”

“Am I one of yours, now? Am I to follow every command you give me?”

One of mine? Yes. I liked that. She was mine, in every sense of the word. She had been for some time now, and she would always be. I still did not know how I deserved her, or how everything had happened. I was little surprised to find that I did not care—things were as they were, and I would have them no other way.

“Only the ones that are reasonable,” I said lightly, leaning back again to reach over and grab my glass again. Once more, the profits of being a Malfoy—the finest wine England had to offer, here at my fingertips. “I see nothing unreasonable with this one, do you?”

She smirked. “One thing.” She came to me then, gathering her skirt in her hands, pulling it high enough that she could sit on my lap, straddling me, without it getting in the way. I took a sip of the wine, then held the glass to her lips, tilting it up so she could have a taste as well. “Hmm,” she said in satisfaction, and kissed me, pushing the glass to the side. I slipped my arm around her, pulling her into the kiss. She moaned as my tongue delved into her mouth, dominating her own, then suddenly she was pulling away, standing up, taking a couple of steps back.

“What was the one thing?” I asked, not missing a beat.

She smirked at me. “You're still clothed.”

I waved one hand dismissively. “That can be easily remedied. I want to see you. Fully.”

“Then who am I to deny you?” she whispered softly, turning her back to me with another seductive sway of her hips. She was magical beyond merely being a witch—she was mesmerizing, addictive, sultry, everything a man could want and more. How had no one else seen this? How had she remained untouched until I had come along?

* * *

“Please, Draco...” her soft whimper drew my attention immediately.

“Please what?” I demanded, somewhat roughly. I was in no mood to deal with this. Not here.

“Don't make me... don't... again...”

“You're not making sense, Granger,” I growled, and turned away from her.

She let out a soft cry and grabbed my arm. “And you're not making this easy on me!” she shot back. “I'm going out on a limb here, very nearly literally! The least you could do is talk to me!”

“I don't know what there is to talk about.”

“Because you've never let yourself get this close, you've never had these feelings before, right?”

I said nothing—she had hit the mark perfectly, and she knew it. Her grip on my arm slackened, then I felt her press against my back, her arms sliding around my waist. “Don't go,” she said softly. “I'm sorry.”

I turned in her arms, but she refused to look up at me. I put a finger under her chin and raised her beautiful face, so I could see her amazingly deep brown eyes. “I won't go,” I promised her quietly. I wasn't sure why I said that, but... there it was, hanging between us now. “You... you are important to me,” I finally stammered out, not breaking eye contact. She needed to see me right then. She was the only one who could, who could look beyond the facade that everyone else say, the only one who could see ME, and know ME.

“Draco...” I cut her off with a kiss. I needed her, and she needed me, but now... I had no words to describe my feelings. How I had went from hating her, and everything she stood for... to being in love with her, completely and utterly. It wasn't just the sex, it wasn't just her body... it was HER. She could touch me in ways no one else ever had, and had awoken these feelings within me... a few minutes ago, when she had said those three little words, I had thought for sure I was about to die.

No one loved Draco Malfoy. No one.

People feared me, people admired me, people wished to be me, but no one, never, had loved me. Maybe my mother, but... it was different, when you were speaking of a parent, as opposed to a lover. I had had girls before, girls that were after different things, be it power, wealth, reputation, whatever. I had had them, and used them, and discarded them when I was done. I had undone entire families, because I could. I had laughed in their face when they cried and begged for me to love them. Love was simply NOT part of my life.

Hermione changed that. By merely... being. By existing. By allowing me to come into her life, by allowing me to live with her by my side...

I needed her, more than ever, because she was something different. She was a path to redemption, to LIFE.

“I love you, Hermione,” I whispered into her hair, and felt her tears fall against my chest.

* * *

I tapped my wand once, and the music started. A slow, soft beat, nothing corny or overly dramatic, just something to listen to in the background. Hermione glanced at me over her shoulder, and I could see in her eyes the love, the devotion... she would never let me down. Never. I trusted her absolutely—and that scared me. But I couldn't turn away from it. Not now.

She shrugged out of her grey sweater, and dropped it on the table. Her white shirt would have been see-through, had it been brighter in the room. As it was, all I could see was the indentation her bra strap made across her back as she slowly unbuttoned the shirt. And then slipped out of it as well. She turned towards me then, smiling coyly as she dropped to all fours and crawled towards me.

I bit my lip, feeling my own reaction growing to her. She really, truly, honestly was a goddess in the flesh. She put her hands on my knees and pushed herself up, her breasts dragging over my legs and crotch as she slowly climbed up my body to sit in my lap again. I ran my hand down her back, feeling her soft, silky skin, until I hit the waistband of her skirt, and ran my fingers along it's edge, until I found the fastenings on the side, and deftly undid them, peeling her skirt off of her and tossing it aside, leaving her in only her white bra and black knickers.

She smiled down at me, tracing my lips with her fingers. I kissed each finger as it passed before me, then she was pulling me forwards, her hand locked around the back of my neck, her lips on mine...

I heard the approaching sounds a split second before she did, sitting up straight, holding her from falling off with one arm still wrapped around her. My other hand shot out, the magic coursing through my veins despite the fact that my wand was laying next to my leg, and my cloak shot across the room to land in my hand. I threw it around her shoulders with one quick moment, and she stood, turning her back to me as she wrapped it around her front, bowing her head—just as the door behind me opened, widely to admit three laughing and talking men.

I stood, spinning, fury dancing through my eyes.

“Oh, hey Draco...” one of them began, but trailed off when he saw my face. I knew what he was seeing—fury, unrestrained, my lips firmly compressed. Then his eyes flickered over my shoulder to Granger, and widened.

“What's that mudblood doi-”

“Don't you DARE question me, Blaise,” I hissed, my hands clenching into fists.

“Hey, mate, calm down, alright?”

“Get out.”

“What? You... why is... Hermione Granger?” Blaise stuttered. Crabbe and Goyle stood there, doing what they always did best—look stupid, their arms crossed across their chests, pondering what was going on.

“I said get out!”

“Draco, what in the hell is going on here?” Blaise demanded instead.

I raised my hand, unable to keep back the explosion of anger. A soundless concussion rocked the room as all three were pushed out of the door before it slammed shut in their faces. I turned to Hermione, and saw the fear etched on her face.

Fear of me, or fear of what had happened? I winced as I realized that I wasn't sure which.

“Hermione...”

“I... I had best get going,” she said softly.

“You can't,” I said weakly, looking back at the door.

She froze in the act of picking up her skirt and shaking it out. “Why?”

“That's the only way out, and they're out there,” I said, waving a hand at the door.

“They've already seen me here, they already know.”

She continued gathering her things, dressing slowly. Despite the events of the past minute, I still felt a pang of longing for her as I watched her pull her skirt up her shapely pale legs, moving the cloak out of the way to get at the side-snaps. “I'll get them,” I said, and stepped forwards to help. She let me, but didn't move as I did up the buttons slowly, watching my hands until I finished, then her eyes trailed up my body to meet my eyes.

“What's going to happen?” she whispered.

“They'll talk,” I answered without a moment's hesitation. “The school will know, now.”

I looked away from her eyes. It was the worst thing that could have happened. We both had our reputations to consider, had everything that could be risked riding on this. If my parents found out I had been consorting with Granger, a muggle-born, their fury would be endless. If the school found out she had been consorting with me, her friends would abandon her, others would mock her...

“I don't care,” she said suddenly, and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I said it already. I said I love you. I meant it. I do mean it. I have meant it. I will mean it.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “You're babbling.”

“I don't care,” she mumbled. “I love you, Draco. The others, Harry, Ron, the rest... they don't know you like I do, they don't see this side of you, the softness in your heart. They can't. You won't let them.”

“You're the only one who does, Hermione. You awoke it within me; without you, it would not exist.”

She looked up at me. “You sure of that?”

“As sure as I have ever been of anything in my life,” I responded. “You changed me.”

She hugged me tighter, and rested her cheek back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her in return, and rested my chin on the top of her head.

“I don't care,” she repeated again. “Let them know. It's time they knew. I'm not afraid.”

You might not be, I thought to myself. But am I?