A Step in Time

CHAPTER TWO: SOME LIKE IT HOT

“This is bullshit, Hermione! Bullshit!” Hermione winced as the door to her bedroom was torn open with a very loud bang, a gangly red-headed man interrupting her packing angrily. As he took in the sight of her clothes spread over the bed and her old Hogwarts trunk sitting at her feet, his eyes seemed to pop even further out of his head. She had to stifle her laughter as he reminded her of one of those squeezable Muggle stress toys.

“Honestly, Ron, calm down. I know it’s a big deal but there are much more important things at stake here. Like the entirety of space and time as we know it.”

Ron paused, pursing his lips as he contemplated what she’d said. He looked very cartoonish standing there, his expression rather like an angry caveman trying to interpret the words that had just come out of her mouth. His eyebrows knit together and he huffed like a child, obviously trying to decide whether he should attempt to be reasonable and understanding, or go into a rage like he wanted to. Hermione could practically see the cogs in his brain turning as he attempted to make a decision. It wasn’t until she turned and began folding clothes once more that he moved, angered by her insistence on packing.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like it!” he proclaimed far too loudly, stabbing the air with his finger for emphasis and pacing before her. Hermione turned her attention back to Ron and absentmindedly turned the sparkling ring on her left hand like she always did when he was being ridiculous. Really she couldn’t help but frown, her large brown eyes watching him pace in frustration before her. Grunting a little she pulled herself off of the bed, extracting her body from the pile of clothes surrounding her and setting her bare feet on the carpet of their bedroom.

“Ron.” She said firmly, stopping him mid-pace with her body and burying her face in his chest, her arms moving around his torso in a firm and reassuring hug. He froze for quite a few moments, but eventually gave in, securing his long arms around her shoulders and curving his shoulders to make up for her lesser height. Warm freckled cheek rested on the top of her head, and he breathed in deeply, obviously taking a very big effort to calm himself. It warmed Hermione’s heart to see him trying so hard to understand for her. Ron could at times be a little rough around the edges, but at least he constantly tried harder for her.

“Just don’t worry,” Hermione said with an easy smile, pulling away and tilting her face upwards to place a small kiss on his lips, “by the time I’m back it will have felt like no time at all to you. It won’t be more than a few days or even a few hours. I promise. The only downside to this arrangement is my travel companion…”

“It’s just that, Herm. I really wouldn’t care that much if you weren’t going with the Ferret. Can’t Harry or I go and simply take Polyjuice Potion or disguise ourselves?”

Hermione shook her head, frowning deeply. She wished it was that simple, but playing with time was a very delicate and tricky game. It had to be her and Draco; she wasn’t sure why, but it just had to be. Every time she doubted it, tried her hardest to think of an alternative, she could feel the air around her bristling as if the fabric of time itself was stretching at the seams. It was just the way things had to happen. She did her best to explain this to Ron.

“For whatever reason, Malfoy and I are meant to go back in time. It must be the two of us; if things don’t happen as close as possible to the way they already have, it could mean very drastic consequences for the Order and all of wizarding kind…”

“But Hermione, he’s the biggest arsehole I’ve ever-”

“I know Ron,” Hermione threw her hands up, not exactly enjoying being reminded of the horrific task she was about to undertake, “you think I asked for it to be Malfoy? I’m looking forward to this about as much as I look forward to snuggling with a blast-ended skrewt.”

Ron bristled as snuggling was mentioned, his eyebrows raising dangerously towards disappearing into his hairline and Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He had such a one-track mind.

“Ron, don’t worry. Malfoy may be a complete and total idiot, but we’re both adult entertainers, sort of, and professionals. I’m sure we’ll have no problem putting aside our differences and handling this situation with the utmost maturity and poise.”

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“I don’t wanna goooooooooooooooo,” Draco Malfoy whined loudly on his bed, rolling back and forth, his mouth muffled by the pillow in which he had stuffed his face.

“Vere exactly eez it you are going again, Draco?” Yelena, the leggy and bloody unfairly gorgeous Russian model that Draco was currently dating* (*see, fucking) was sitting on the side of the bed, watching him with raised eyebrows and a somewhat amused smirk. His answer was almost entirely inaudible, his face still stuffed in his large down feather pillow. After a few moments of ranting Yelena poked him hard on the shoulder, frowning and opening her full, beautiful lips.

“I cannot eer you, Draco,” she said firmly, trying her hardest to seem stern. “’onestly, you can be such a little boy.”

Draco poked his tongue out at her, rolling over onto his back and staring at his bedroom ceiling. One of his hands tucked itself behind her head and the other ambled over to absentmindedly stroke her thigh.

“I said that I unfortunately cannot tell you anything at all about where I’m going or what I’m to be doing there, Dearie. The details of my mission are absolutely Top Secret and whatnot. On a need to know basis and you, while very delectable and tempting, do not need to know.”

Yelena frowned and pouted her full mouth and Draco almost felt a little guilty for leaving her. Much more than that he just felt irritated with the fact that he was leaving this beautiful and delicious sex goddess in order to spend an inordinate amount of time with Buck-toothed Granger of all people. It was ruddy unfair, was what it was, and he found it increasingly difficult to believe that he’d accepted such a mission. The glamour of saving the world really only lasted for so long, and for Draco it had already run out completely.

“But…” Yelena started, crawling over onto Draco until she was straddling him, “vat exactly am I supposed to do until you come back?”

Draco took in her sparkling blue eyes and the devilish grin on her pouty lips and couldn’t help but match it with a wide and electric smirk. “I suppose, my darling, that I’ll just have to give you something to think about until my return…”

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“It’s just… I’m going to miss you, Hermione…” Ron said timidly, ears flushing as he stared into the most convenient corner of the room with ferocity. Hermione found it equal parts amusing and sad that he still had a difficult time with emotionally intimate moments after all these years. They lived together for Merlin’s sake, and were going to be getting married in… well, in four months his time. Hermione sighed at this thought, trying her best not to frown. She’d been waiting long enough for this wedding as it was, and now she might have to wait up to four more years?

“I know, Ron. I’m going to miss you too. But I swear it won’t seem but a moment to y-” she was cut off as Ron grabbed her by the sides of her face, kissing her with a surprising ferocity that they usually reserved for special occasions. She was completely caught off-guard and stumbled backwards a little, smiling but wide-eyed and lifting her hand to her mouth. Beneath her t-shirt her breasts were heaving upwards as she attempted to catch her breath.

“What in Merlin’s name was that about?” she asked, but Ron interrupted her once more, catching her by her wrist and in an awkward attempt at a show of manliness pushing her roughly onto the bed. He slid on top of her, kissing down her neck and sliding her t-shirt to the side.

“I just don’t want you to forget about me when you’re with that pretty boy Malfoy,” Ron said into her hair, practically panting on top of her. Hermione couldn’t hold in her laughter, and it barked out from her chest in two loud peals.

“Malfoy?! Are you serious?! Trust me, Ron, you have nothing to worry abou-” but she was cut off yet again by Ron’s wet lips, moving on top of her mouth with a slight desperation. Hermione, though far more off guard than she typically preferred to be with intimate moments, did her best to catch herself and respond as best she could on such short notice…

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Draco rolled Yelena over with ease, perched carefully between her thighs and using one hand to keep himself up on his satin sheets, the other roaming its way up her bare thigh and inside the hem of her dress to cup her pert ass. Yelena growled in his ear and Draco thrust against her hips in response, re-assuring his dominance though honestly loving a woman who fought back. She whimpered once more like a wounded animal but smiled, grazing her teeth against his neck as he moved his hand up to roughly grab her breast.

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“Ow! Ron, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?!” Hermione cried out as Ron moved his hand away from her panty-clad ass. His face flushed and he looked sheepish.

“I, um, spanked you… I thought girls liked that?” Hermione looked at him, and it was her turn to blush, eyes wide in embarrassment and slight confusion.

“I don’t know who told you that but… look, let’s stick to what we know best, okay?” She smiled down into his face, kissing him gently before he could nod in response or even argue.

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“Handcuffs? Oh, you are my dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Draco leered as Yelena produced two pairs and a blindfold, setting them on the bed before slipping off her tiny black excuse for a dress. Her chest was bare and she was left in nothing but a black thong, grinning her most sultry grin at the blonde wizard before sliding back and spreading her hands towards his bedposts.

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“Should we turn the light off?” Hermione asked, gnawing her lip as she looked up at an almost naked Ron positioned on top of her. In the lamp light, his freckled body seemed to glow and radiate warmth. It made Hermione smile, running one hand up and down the side of his soft torso.

“Does it matter?” He asked, pulling his face back from kissing her breasts and looking up at her with wide blue eyes. “I mean, we can just leave it on, it’s not a big deal…”

“Yeah but… I dunno, my body is all squishy in certain positions and if you see it might turn you off or something…”

Ron rolled his eyes, moving down to kiss her stomach and moving even further South with an expression that made his fiancé very nervous. “You’re beautiful, Hermione. We can do it with the light on, I like to see you…”

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“Augh, yes, call me your big fucking dragon!” Draco cried out as he thrust into Yelena, the handcuffs still on one of her wrists and the blindfold hanging around her neck as he balanced her on top of her, both of them sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You are ze champion of sex, Draco! Oh God, God yes!” she practically shouted, pulling his platinum hair roughly as she bounced up and down with a relentless ferocity on his lap. Her long legs were wrapped around his waist and she used them like pistons to move up and down relentlessly on his cock.

“Fuck! That’s right slut, tell me more!”

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“Oh Merlin, Ron, yes!” Hermione cried out as he moved on top of her, holding himself onto one elbow while the spare hand fondled her breast. He was panting and moaning into the pillow and her face was tucked into his neck, which she was kissing and gently nipping at playfully.

“Mione I can’t… I can’t go much longer…” he said, grunting a few times as he moved his hand down to her hip for leverage. “I’m getting pretty c-c-close.”

“N-no, not yet I’m not there, just wait!” she exclaimed, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him in deeper.

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Yelena screamed Draco’s name as they finished, his hips slamming into hers with a bruising force. They seemed to be grunting and sighing for minutes afterwards before they finally collapsed, Yelena falling back against his pillows and Draco sitting on the corner of the bed, running his hands through his hair.

“Vere are you going, Draco?” she asked sleepily, her blue eyes lolling as she struggled between the realm of being awake and asleep.

“Are you kidding darling?” he said with a smirk. “I still have to pack.”

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“So, you, um, got there, right?” Ron was lying behind her as he spoke into her hair, his long arm draped over her stomach. Hermione winced a little at the question, pausing for a long moment before rolling over and propping herself up on her elbow.

“Yes,” she said with a smile, kissing him on the tip of his long nose, “of course.”

“Good.” He said with a smile, attempting to pull her closer by her waist and nuzzle his face into her shoulder before she stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. “What? What’s wrong?” Ron asked, his smile immediately melting into a frown as she pulled away from him and began to slip on her panties.

“Nothing’s wrong at all,” Hermione assured him, slipping her t-shirt on over her bare breasts and reaching back for her wand on the nightstand. With a gentle swish her clothing floated back up from its pile on the floor, having been knocked over from their sudden bought of passion, and she re-directed it straight into her trunk, watching carefully as they folded themselves neatly on top of her books and other school supplies. Only one set of school robes, along with her uniform and head girl’s badge, remained resting peacefully on the chair next to the nightstand.

“Oh.” Was all Ron managed before he succumbed to his exhaustion, flopping back onto his pillow and snoring in less than a minute. Hermione smiled down at her sleeping fiancé warmly, patting him on the cheek and pulling herself off of the bed to inspect for the umpteenth time the contents of her trunk. If she forgot something, she couldn’t simply owl home for it. Her parents would be in Australia, and Mrs. Weasley would certainly be confused and difficult to deal with if she received an owl from Hermione asking to send a few pairs of socks and a toothbrush.

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Draco had to wait until Yelena was asleep to pull out his wand, painfully pulling out trousers and sweaters with his hands and folding them on the empty spot of his massive bed. She took so long to finally drift off into dreamland that he was beginning to get a little irate, and was considering giving her some sleeping draught disguised as tea when she finally slipped off into a deep slumber. Nodding with satisfaction, Draco quietly maneuvered his old school trunk from out of his closet, his clothes soaring over his head and folding themselves somewhat haphazardly in the large space. A few times Yelena stirred and he paused, preparing to find some way to distract her or throw a blanket over his wide trunk, but she simply rolled over and continued breathing softly.

With magic it took only ten minutes or so to pack his things and he checked his trunk. The books from his seventh year were still stacked on the bottom, and his robes, clothing and uniforms were all stacked as neatly as he cared. Gently he extracted a pair of slacks, sweater, crisp white shirt and green and silver tie. He stashed all of these, along with a pair of robes, in a separate bag to change into in the morning once his Muggle girlfriend was gone. His trunk he carefully transfigured into a large Muggle suitcase so as not to arouse suspicion from his nosy little Russian in the morning.

With everything packed, the situation before him seemed much more real than he’d care for it to be. With a resounding finality he set his suitcase/trunk next to his bed with a dull thud, frowning down at it for a long time before slipping into bed and putting out the light. He hadn’t yet reached the point of no return, but it was getting uncomfortably close.

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Hermione closed her trunk with a snap, patting the top of it gently and scanning the room to ensure she hadn’t missed anything. Once she was satisfied that everything was packed, nothing missed, and she was fully prepared for the journey ahead, she climbed into bed with her fiancé sighing as she moved into him and put out the light.

“You done packing?” Ron asked sluggishly, the sleep in his voice slurring his words. Hermione nodded, pressing back into him, enjoying the warmth of his body.

“Yes,” she said with a sigh, “all ready to go.”

Ron moved a bit behind her, shifting closer against her. “Are you?” he asked heavily, and Hermione frowned into the darkness of their room. The silence that passed between them was long, and Hermione was sure Ron had fallen asleep by the time she whispered her answer.

“Yes,” she affirmed the black night before her unconvincingly, “of course."