Sex Talk

She didn’t know how long she laid there, naked and vulnerable in what was sure to be her last moments atop what seemed to be Draco Malfoy’s private bed. But she did know that she had to find a way out, and quick. The air was cold, and her hair stood on end. Voldemort was here, and this was surely going to be the end. Secretly, she scolded herself. If she had just listened to Ron. If she hadn’t insisted that there was a Horcrux here… if Harry had just sided with Ron instead of her… now they were all going to die, and it was her fault.



Hermione looked around for something –anything to set her free from these magical binds, but there was nothing in her midst that would save her –surely not the belt buckle lying on the floor or the glass of water atop the night stand. Her hair plastered to her face. Just as she was about to throw herself off of the bed with her body weight, the door opened and she closed her eyes, fearing the worst.



“If you’re going to kill me, do it quick.” She said meekly.



“Kill you? I dare say I’m not much of the murdering type.” It was Draco Malfoy, back in the room, an apple in his hand and a smirk on his lips. “Comfortable?” She wanted to sneer back at him, but remembering what happened last time she kept her mouth shut. “Hungry?”



“Don’t taunt me. Where’s Harry?” She grasped for any news. “Is Ron alright?”



“Eat.” He said, sitting down next to her and placing the apple in front of her face. She glared. “What?”



“You poison it?”



“Like I would give you the satisfaction,” Draco growled, taking the apple and tossing it on the bed. He leaned over and whispered, “Potter’s fine. For now. I don’t know about Weasley.” Then he leaned back up and yawned. “I need a holiday.”



“You better start talking quick, Malfoy!” She growled, using her body weight to sit up on the bed. “Or I’m going to rip out your throat.” She had never talked so harsh, but in the face of death she was not about to give up without a fight.



“With your hands bound like that?” Malfoy smirked wider. “I’d like to see you try.”



“I didn’t say I’d use my hands.” She glowered, baring her teeth. The suggestion left Malfoy uneasy, and he shifted his weight on the bed. “Get us out of this. I know you can.”



“I’m just a house guest like you.” He state, reaching back for the apple. Hermione could not take his rude arrogant attitude any longer; she swung both arms simultaneously and whacked the apple out of his hand. It landed on the floor with an authoritive thud. “Fuck sakes…”



“Don’t ignore me, Draco Malfoy!” She screamed at him.



Draco eyed her uneasily out of the corner of his perception, then took in a heavy breath and sighed. “I can’t do much for you. I could probably get you out of this. But I can’t Potter.”



“You best do better than that.” Her voice was no longer the timid, sweet Hermione Granger from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. No, this was a new Hermione, a powerful Hermione, that was not going to take weak answers lightly.



“I’ll do what I want to do.” He hissed, standing up from the bed like a cobra ready to strike.



“Really? Is that why you gave in to dear ol’ dad and that horrible woman??”



“He’d have done worse!” Draco was on the defensive, and Hermione felt that due to his rising voice, the other Death Eaters were no longer outside the door, and that must mean that Harry… “He’d have gut you –done terrible things. Mutilated you. I love my Father, but he’s no prince charming.”



“You love that man?” She scoffed.



“Fuck you, Granger. I’m outta here.”



“Malfoy wait!” She pleaded as he made it to the door.



“You want my help?” He stiffened, back to her so she could no longer read his expression. “Quid pro quo, Granger.”



“What do you want?”



“You.” His voice echoed. There was a scream somewhere downstairs. Hermione winced –it was a woman. “I want out of this Hell hole. And if I help you out, and maybe get Potter and Weasley out of this, you’ve got to give me something in return. And that something is you.”



Hermione wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but she was running out of time. “Me?”



“Did I stutter?”



“What could you possibly want with…?” But there was no need to finish the question, because deep down she already knew exactly what he meant. “But why?”



“Are you going to sit around all day asking questions or do we have a deal?” He had his wand already out. Hermione debated the outcomes, and decided that anything was better than dying at the hands of Lord Voldemort. She whispered her answer. Malfoy’s face tugged back in a grin and he spun around at once and the binds released. Hermione was free! She rummaged to the blankets to cover herself up. Malfoy offered his services, saying, “I could transfigure you something.” With a wave of his wand, the covers surrounding her became a mock dress, plain but simple. Hermione jumped out of the bed and instantly regretted it. The room spun like a merry-go-round on acid. The floor was her only comfort as she fell to it, tears in her eyes. She needed strength. She needed to get going…



“Eat.” Malfoy said, above her holding the apple out.



Hermione could barely lift her head, so Malfoy tilted her back against the bed and put the shiny red apple to her lips. She bit down, and a sensation washed over her; renewal, life. Her arms did not ache, her head no longer swam, and the muscles in her legs were full of spring and ready to go. This magic was amazing. This new life was to die for.



“A potion?” She said, her eyes fluttering up to meet his. He only stared back, mildly transfixed on her as she took another bite out of the apple. This time her heart raced, and her eyes grew more focused. Her brain was sharp once more, and instantly she realized he had planned this from the moment he had walked in the room. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he had taken her virginity against her will only moments before, she would have thanked him. But instead, she sat up and said, “My wand.”



“It’s with Lestrange.” He answered, taking a lonesome bite then handing her the rest of the apple. “I doubt we’ll be able to fetch it.”



“Your plan?” She whispered feeling frightened that at any moment Death Eaters would burst in the room and confront Draco on his plans to help her.



“Grab Potter and run like Hell,” He answered, and Hermione felt like he was being dead honest.



“You can’t be serious. They’ll kill us before we even set a toe out of line.”



“I did manage to confiscate your invisibility cloak.” Said Draco, nudging to the side of the door, where a gleaming cloak lay ready to be used. “Left it upstairs when we raided you.”



Hermione felt like finally there was some planning to this scheme. She rushed over, having to feel it in her hands to feel safe. When her fingers trapped around the cloth, she gave a huge sigh. Maybe there was a way out of here… “Ronald…”



“I told you I don’t know. I can only think he’s in the cellar.”



“Where are we?” Hermione felt boggled. Was this not downstairs? Was this not the basement like she had imagined? Had her senses been knocked askew?



“We’re underground. But the cellar is west of here.”



“Where’s Harry?”



“They’ve taken him upstairs.” Draco now stood beside her, admiring the cloak. “The Dark Lord wants an audience. He wont kill Potter just yet until he makes it announced he’s caught.”



“Who do we get first?” Hermione felt pressured to ask this question. If they picked up Ron, they risked Harry’s life; if they picked up Harry, the chaos would be so great they wouldn’t be able to make it back into the cellars.



“Isn’t it obvious?” Draco growled, throwing the cloak over them both, “We go get Weasley. Then we pick up Potter. If time runs out before then, we high tail it back to Potter, got it? I may not like him, but I don’t want to live like this forever.” Hermione looked over and noticed a small cut above his right eye. It hadn’t shown before –a concealing charm. But out of the light and under the cloak, it was plain as day. She looked him over closer. It was more than one cut. There was a black eye, nicks on his lip and nose, and she swore she saw a long line of red across his neck. Malfoy had not noticed her staring, and she was sure he wanted it kept that way. They took off together under the cloak, Malfoy’s wand drawn. The room that had been occupied was now empty aside from one Fernir Grayback, who was rummaging through a chest on the far side. The door click shut made his head turn. He sniffed the air.



“Who’s there?”



“Petrificus Totalus!” Draco shouted, and Fernir fell backwards, stiff as a board. Hermione gasped at the loud thud. Then Malfoy led her out of the room and down a set of stairs that took off towards the west. The only light was a few lanterns every twenty feet or so, making it very hard to see. The longer they entered the maze, the more screams could be heard echoing off of the walls. Hermione bit back a gasp as she saw someone moving a few yards away; Malfoy covered her mouth to prevent any further noise. The Death Eater looked around for a few more moments, before returning back to his post at the door some twenty feet away. Draco put his finger over his mouth in a hush sign, and she nodded. Then he uncovered himself from the cloak in the shadows and emerged into the light. The Death Eater, still masked, crossed his arms at the door.



“What do you want, Malfoy?”



“It’s my house, I’ll do as I please.” Sneered Draco. Hermione stayed at his heels. “I’ve got orders from The Dark Lord to bring Weasley to the Grand Hall.”



“Really? I didn’t hear that.”



“Why would they inform you? You’re lower than dirt.” Malfoy pointed his wand high. “Step aside, McGregor.”



McGregor seemed put off, but did as he was told and stepped aside. Hermione followed swiftly behind Draco, and just made it in before the door was shut. There, ahead of her was Ron, arms hanging by chains above his head and a giant gash against his face from the bottom of his jaw to the top of his eyebrow. When he saw Draco, he became instantly enraged.



“You motherfucker! I swear to Merlin I’m going to kill you!” He shouted, struggling against his binds. “I’ll do it!”



“Do it then.” Sneered Draco. Hermione looked around for the source of the screaming that she had heard moments before, but there was no one else in the cellars but Ron. If she had been honest with herself, she would have wondered why she was taken to the room outside Draco’s door with Harry and not put down in the cellar with Ron. –Malfoy aimed his wand at Ron, and Ron instantly kicked forward, attempting to knock the wand out of his hand. Draco flew back to avoid the kick. “Watch it!”



“Where’s Hermione? Hmm? Where is she?” Ron seethed. “Tell me! I know you know, you bastard!”



“Is that any way to talk to me?” Draco growled.



“You do anything to harm her and I swear I’ll… I’ll tear your eyes out with a spoon!”



Malfoy laughed a cold, dark laugh that only Hermione interpreted in the cold dungeon cellars. Only he and she knew why his laugh was so vicious. Malfoy put his fingers to his lips and reached above the spot where Hermione stood, taking the invisibility cloak off her head. Ron’s face went from anger to instant relief. “Her-“



SLAM!



Malfoy’s right knee went into Ron’s side. He repeated the shh pantomime, and Ron glared in response. Draco only nudged to the only exit, referring to the one lonesome Death Eater standing watch. Then he released Ron’s binds. Hermione rushed over and caught him just before he hit the floor and leveled him out. As he sat against the wall, she held out the apple still lodged in her hands. Ron, confused, took a bite and instantly color filled his rosy cheeks. Then he reached up and hugged Hermione. She hugged back. Malfoy gagged in response. Hermione’s eyes met his, and there was foreboding glinting in the retinas that said, ‘We had a deal. You’re mine.’ The hug ended, and both got to their feet. They were just about to throw the invisibility cloak on themselves when Draco suddenly gave out a large cry of pain and clutched his left arm. “Gah!” The ache was so bad it sent him to the floor.



Outside, a rattle at the door was heard before McGregor emerged, saying, “He’s calling, Malfoy-“



He stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Ron, then Hermione, then Draco in disbelief. His wand raised, but Draco was faster. He dove at him in a body rush and sent McGregor toppling to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Together, they wrestled, one not having an advantage over the other. Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and tried to drag her to the door, but she shook her head. “He saved our lives.” She insisted, and looked around for anything.

“Granger!” Draco shouted as he was slugged in the face. “Some help would be nice!”



She spotted a large book of spells sitting at the far right and rushed over. Then, without thinking, she ran to the fighting men and whacked McGregor on the back of the head with her full force. He was sent over, completely knocked out. Draco coughed, now able to breath, and scrambled to his feet. “Bout time.” He muttered. Then he rubbed his sore arm and threw the cloak at Ron. “Put it on, Weasley. You too, Granger.” When they did, the followed him out the door and back down the maze. A few short minutes later, they were at the bottom of a large staircase. Draco went first, wand drawn, and they followed suit. They emerged at the floor of a grand hall, lined with Death Eaters and victims. Harry was in the center, tied to a wooden pole like a witch ready to be burned at the stake. He was barely conscious. His glasses were askew. He looked like he had been thoroughly beaten.



And there, in the midst of the room, was Voldemort. Hermione had never seen him face to face –the gag reflex in her throat was on overload from fear and repulsion. His white, sallow skin and red eyes put a sickening low in her stomach, reminding her of a Dementor. Bellatrix stood at his side, Hermione’s wand tucked casually in her dress band. She was looking longingly up at her Lord, like a pup ready to do her master’s bidding. Anger washed over Hermione. Anger and greed to rip out Bellatrix’s throat.



“Ah, Draco, so glad you could join us,” Said Voldemort. Hermione felt her legs go weak from the ice in his venomous voice. “I trust McGregor is on his way?”



“Sick.” Muttered Draco in response. “A bit under the weather.”



“I see.” Voldemort nodded. “Shall we begin, then?”



“You’re a coward! Give me my wand! I want to fight!” Harry shouted to the Dark Lord, breaking his concentration and pulling him over to Harry. Hermione seized the chance and whispered in Draco’s ear, “There’s got to be fifty Death Eaters! How are we going to take on so many? And with no wands?”



“Leave that to me.” Replied Draco. Hermione saw his wand hand shaking violently.



“You’re not serious!” She gasped.



“When I give you the signal, you go for Potter and get the Hell out of here.”



“Malfoy-“



“Do as I say.” It was not a request. Bellatrix strolled over, almost brushing against Hermione as she put a smooth hand on Draco’s cheek.



“So young to have witnessed so much,” She said, eyes boring into his. “Talking to ghosts, Draco?” Her eyes shifted down, and Hermione thought she was looking directly at her. Draco did not answer, merely shifted his wand in his hand. “I’d watch what my last few actions were. I’d hate to have to kill you.” She whispered, licking his cheek before strolling away to join Lucius at the side of Voldemort. Hermione had not wasted any time, and had stolen her wand from Bellatrix and now had it laying peacefully within her hands. Draco tapped his foot, and Hermione guessed that was the signal. She nudged Ron and began their slow pace into the center of the room to retrieve Harry.



“My Lord!” Draco shouted to be heard as Voldemort raised his wand.



“What is it, Draco?” Hissed Voldemort.



“I wondered… shouldn’t someone retrieve Granger and Weasley so they might see the Golden Boy die at the hands of our Almighty Lord?”



Voldemort seemed to ponder this. Hermione was only feet away.



“An excellent idea. Goyle! Retrieve them both.”



Hermione whispered the incantation, and the ropes around Harry’s wrists slackened. He noticed, but only whispered in almost an inaudible voice, “Hermione?”



“Shhh!” She whispered. “Don’t talk.” She looked to Ron. “When I give the word, throw the Invisibility cloak over you both and Apparate as far as you can from here. You’ll need my wand-“



“Are you mental? We’re not leaving without you-“



“I’m not leaving without Malfoy.” Hermione insisted. Harry seemed to be listening in on the conversation. He gave a scoff. “I’m not, Harry. I’m just not that cruel.”



“Who cares about cruel?” Sneered Ron.



Hermione shoved the wand in his hand. “On the count of three. One… two…”



Suddenly, Goyle emerged from the cellar door, screaming, “They’ve gone! They’ve escaped!”



“Impossible!” Malfoy Senior howled.



“He’s done it!” Bellatrix pointed an accusing finger at Draco. “I know it. They’re around here, I know it!”



“Three!” Hermione pushed herself out from underneath the cloak and exposed herself to the surrounding Death Eaters before Ron could protest. There was a lot of gasps and whispers, but no one seemed to raise a wand. Voldemort looked idly, as if he had been expecting this all along.



“And you too, Draco, shall defy me?”



“Expelliarmus!” The voice was Ron’s, and it hit Bellatrix square in the chest before Harry disappeared and a loud POP was heard. A flurry of spells were sent to the spot where Harry Potter had once stood, but it was hopeless. They were long gone, and Hermione had held back. Her heart was in her throat.



Then a number of things happened at once. Voldemort began casting spell after spell, angered, at his fellow Death Eaters. They began to drop like flies. The one’s closest to the doors began to flood out, others were scrambling to find a safe place to hide. There was a shout, Draco shouted a protective charm to counter act it, and suddenly Hermione was pulled at the midst of a spell and flew over to Bellatrix, who had a small blade at her throat. “Put the wand down, Draco, or the baby gets it.”



Malfoy instantly looked torn. His lower lip trembled. Hermione felt the blade pressing closer, harder at her skin every second. Draco began to lower his wand. “Don’t hurt her.”



“How dare you feel for this mudblood?” Red crimson leaked from Hermione’s supple skin. “I’ll take away what’s most important.”



“No!” Draco cried, and out from his wand came a silver flame followed by a glowing silver dragon that burst forth, flames licking at Bellatrix. It flew smack into her and Hermione broke free, but the blade caught just enough. Pain seared in every inch of her throat, and she fell to the floor, warm liquid washing over her.



“Hermione!” Draco cried, rushing to her side. “Shit. Granger…” He frowned. The blood made his eyes queasy. “Vulnera Sanentur…” The gash began to heal. Hermione took in a large breath. Then she looked upon the eyes of her savior, stuttering for the words. The air was thick with danger, but she could care less.



“Thank you.”



“Welcome.”



He was just about to smile when a hand grabbed him by the shoulders and he was sent flying backwards. Lucius Malfoy stood above him, angry and fuming. He raised his walking cane -and Hermione heard a cracking noise and a hand pulled her away from the now dueling Lucius and Draco, underneath the invisibility cloak once more. “Ron!”

“I came back.” He said. “I couldn’t leave you here.”



“You big lug.” She said, then turned to Draco. “We need to get him.”



“Leave him!”



“No,” Hermione growled. “I will not. He saved us too many times.”



The cane went flying down upon Draco, and his wand was out of reach.



“I’m sorry, Mione…” Ron said, and grabbed around the middle before Hermione felt her insides turn to jello –they Apparated just outside of Shell Cottage. Hermione struggled, fought, kicked, “He’s gone, Hermione! He’s gone! Shh… he’s gone…” Ron held her, taking every punch and kick. She shook from head to toe. Her arms wouldn’t work any longer. Her throat closed up. The world was an empty black hole. To Hermione Granger, the world had been ripped apart.





THREE WEEKS LATER





“D’you reckon she’s ever gonna forgive me, Harry?” Asked Ron as he watched Hermione refuse yet another helping of stew Fleur had cooked for them. Harry merely shrugged, saying, “If she was ever gonna forgive you, I think you’d have to crawl through the gates of Hell first.”



Hermione stood and excused herself from the table and took a stroll outside. The air was thin and smelled of honeysuckle. The birds chirped, and the ocean beat across the rocks on the other side of the house, but all of this seemed perverse. The world felt empty. Even though it went on, as it should, it felt wrong. Like a clock running counterclockwise. She made a run for the cliffs behind the house, and as she stood at the precipice, her heart gave a leap. Here, at the edge of death she felt more comfortable.



Could he have made it out? She asked herself for the thousandth time.



Just as a wave crashed against the rocks beneath her, something toppled and hit her in the ankle. Startled, she turned and looked down. Beneath was a shiny, red apple. Her heart leapt. She spun around, but nothing was there. No one. The hope she had faded dim again. Then, beside her, a voice called out, “You gonna just stand there all day or are you going to greet me properly?”



Her head flew to the left, and there, next to the tree beside the house, he was. He wore a simple attire of black slacks and a green button up shirt. The wind blew through his blond locks. His smirk was wide and pratty. There was a gash over his eye, and a busted lip, but it was him; Draco Malfoy, come back from the dead. Hermione, having to know it was real, rushed as fast as her legs would carry her and flew into his arms, not caring if he protested or not, which he didn’t. He was real. His arms were solid, his chest firm. He smelled of cologne and peppermint. She inhaled, taking it in as if it were to disappear at any moment, as if he were to just fade away into nothingness.



“Are you really here?” She sighed into his chest.



“Are you daft?” He sneered, though the smile was in his voice. “I do believe someone agreed to be my slave, and I don’t think I’d die just so you could get out of a deal.” They embraced, and as they pulled away he tucked a small bit of hair behind her ear.



“But I thought you were…?”



“My Father may be tough, but I’ve endured plenty.” He referred to the gash on his face. “It’s going to take more than beating me with a cane to get rid of me.”



“But how did you… how’d you know where to find me –I mean us. I mean… we have charms all around the place…”



“For enemies.” He explained. “Not for friends.”



“So we’re friends now?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.



“Don’t flatter yourself.” He stuck out his tongue, and they both laughed. Then he placed an arm around her waist and led her back to the edge of the cliffs. She wrapped an arm around him, and they both held the other’s hands. The sun was just beginning to set. The wind picked up and salt air flew into their faces. A bird chirped. Draco inhaled like it was the first time. Then he said in a casual voice, “Ever been in a French Maid’s outfit?”



Hermione tried to pull away, but he kept a firm grip and smirked widely. So she said, “Don’t try to deny it, Draco. You care for me.”



“I’ll admit it. Only if you admit that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”



“You’re the only I’ve ever had.” She retorted, a glower on her face.



“And I’ll be making sure it stays that way.” He pulled her closer. “Remember, Granger. You’re mine.” Then he kissed her cheek. “And I’ll be making sure it stays that way.” Then her lips. “You’re mine. Forever.”

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Please don\'t forget to review and refer this story to your friends! This is the final chapter, I promise.

AMY

AKA

COCACOLAQUEEN!