Claiming Hermione

You can’t unknow an idea.

That was Draco Malfoy’s problem. He had made love to Hermione Granger and now he knew.

He knew the taste of her. The sound of her. The velvet of her tongue. And he knew the possibility of her love – of what it might look like – because he had seen it in her eyes.

He knew each time he glanced at his bed that the image of her laying on his pillow, sweaty curls stuck to her flushed face, was carved permanently into his mind. A tattoo he would never be rid of.

And he knew – three times a day, he knew – as he sat next to her at the Head Table in the Great Hall, that he would never be free of the crazy scent of jasmine, amber and honey that overwhelmed him, sank into his bones, and made him feel raw and abused.

He was exhausted.

Loving someone, wanting them, when they don’t want you is like that point during Apparition when you are being squeezed from all sides, only you never pop out on the other side. Draco felt like he would never take a full breath again.

**************************************************

A neat row of parchments, rolled and sealed, sat the edge of Hermione’s desk in the HCR. Parents. Grandparents. Ginny. Ron. Even one to the Weasleys as a whole.

Her letter to Harry lay open in front of her. Three jammed-full pages of nothing important, and all of it an attempt at avoiding the one thing she really wanted to tell him – to tell someone – but couldn’t even begin to put into words. Not even for herself.

She stared out at the white-grey sky, unfocused and quiet. The last five days had been strange. Since that night, an odd cycle had developed: avoiding Draco, and then having to sit next to Draco, and then avoiding him all over again so she could recover from having to sit next to him.

It was like a cruel joke that it had somehow been assumed that the Head Students would sit together at the Head Table for meal times. If she were to change that now, it would be obvious. Well, something would be obvious. So, like the courageous Gryffindor she was, she plastered on a bright face, made an extra effort to be involved in conversation, and tried to ignore her body’s urge to either press herself into him, or run and hide.

That’s what she was doing now. Hiding. She hadn’t seen Draco in the HCR since the day after that night, and while that had been incredibly uncomfortable for her, this was worse. His empty chair felt like the chair of a dead person. She suspected that the air molecules in that part of the room were denser than anywhere else. She didn’t like it.

So she read, she wrote letters, she drank countless cups of tea – and the occasional hot chocolate when she was really missing him – and she stared out the window for long stretches of time and just thought.

She thought about sex. She thought about it a lot. Did she feel different? More grown-up? More womanly? More knowledgeable? Nothing. Every time she tried to get a handle on her thoughts about it, to come to some rational assessment, Draco was there, and that coiling, that dull ache at her core, was there too, confusing and distracting her. She scowled.

Draco. Draco Malfoy. He… bothered her. He made her feel out of control. Like she was a spring, wound too tightly and shaking with the effort not to burst. And God! She wanted to burst so badly!

She thought about the other girls he had slept with. She thought about Pansy. And she thought that maybe she understood Pansy a little more than she had before. And that really bothered her.

Hermione’s eyes refocused on her letter to her best friend. With a resigned sigh, she signed her name and rolled it up. What could she tell him about it anyway?

**************************************************

A cheerful bright blue sky peeked in Hermione’s window Christmas morning. She smiled. Hermione loved Christmas. It made her feel giddy and excited and ten years old again. Nothing could compete with her happiness on Christmas.

In a rare request to a House Elf, Hermione ordered herself a mug of hot chocolate and sat in front of her fireplace in her pjs. A small pile of presents sat before her and she grinned stupidly to herself. Yes. She loved Christmas.

Fifteen minutes and a mess of wrapping paper later, Hermione reached for her last unopened present from her parents. The Muggle wrapping paper didn’t twinkle brightly or blink or have snowmen zooming around on brooms. It was just plain green with small pink and white Christmas trees all over it. Hermione loved it. For all the wonders of magic, she couldn’t help feeling a little sentimental about the things with which she had been raised.

She carefully peeled open the paper to reveal a long carved wooden box with an intricate silver fastening. Inside lay a beautiful feather quill from what must have been a rare or exotic creature. She held it up and the mix of sunlight and firelight made its iridescent feathers shimmer softly. It was exquisite.

She thought about the quill on Draco’s desk. This was every bit as magnificent as anything she had ever seen him use. She sighed. What was Draco’s Christmas morning like? She tried to imagine him in his room opening presents. Would the house elves at Malfoy Manor send him gifts? That seemed unlikely. Maybe Dumbledore or a distant uncle? Hermione frowned. Did Draco have any relatives that weren’t Voldemort’s henchmen? Suddenly she felt very, very sad for Draco. For the first time she understood just how truly alone he really was.

She popped up from her spot on the floor and put the quill box on her desk. She pulled on her favourite jeans and the new sweater from Mrs. Weasley and hurried down to breakfast.

She had a plan.

**************************************************

Draco looked sleepily at the bright smiling face of Hermione Granger as she sat next to him. Well, “sat” didn’t quite describe it. She was practically bouncing in her seat. He had never seen the bookworm so excited and he almost wanted to laugh. He was a little surprised – and more than a little discomfited - to find it hard to look at her smiling face without smiling too. It was infectious.

And when she suddenly turned that happy smile on him, the brightness in her eyes caught him off guard and made something in his chest swell.

“Draco,” she bit her lip and her crooked smile took his breath away, “Um…I was thinking of spending the day in Hogsmeade, to, you know, look around and stuff and… I wondered if you’d like to go with me?”

Draco smiled back at her, captivated. And before he could stop himself, he said the stupidest thing possible.

“Sure.”

The smile that broke out on her face was dazzling.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

**************************************************

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Draco was still kicking himself as he trundled through the snow next to the bundled witch.

Her cold-reddened cheeks peeked out from the scarf wrapped snugly around her neck and her curls looked like they had exploded from under her little fuzzy grey cap. Draco shook his head at her insistence at not casting a warming charm. She claimed she liked the cold – that it made it really feel like Christmas. Mental. But if she wasn’t going to use a warming charm, neither would he. He did have to draw the line somewhere though, and he cast a charm to keep their feet dry, adamantly refusing to walk around with soggy, cold toes.

The snow crunched under their feet. It was a perfect winter day. Blue sky, sun shining, the white snow glistening brilliantly. Even Draco had a hard time not feeling a little lighter – despite his present company, or perhaps, because of it.

Granger was lively and animated and talked almost the whole way to the village. The warm tone and sing-song cadence of her voice was a perfect complement to the sunny day and Draco found that it somehow soothed him, made him feel more content than he had been in a long, long time.

**************************************************

They passed the Quidditch shop and Hermione wrinkled her brow at him. Draco smirked.

“Did you want to go in? Want to check out the latest brooms?” he asked her with a teasing lilt.

She tried to scowl but her smile got in the way and it wasn’t very effective. “No. But… Well, I thought you would.”

“I’m all for torturing you Granger, but dragging you into a Quidditch shop isn’t my idea of fun,” he said with a devilish wink.

Hermione’s cheeks burned and she was grateful she could blame the redness on the cold. Too flustered to think of a reply, she turned and kept walking down the high street.

**************************************************

At each window display, Draco watched her face light up all over again, and she marvelled at the ingenious use of magic each shop used in hopes of selling more of their products. She told him about the displays at Muggle stores and what the Muggles were able to accomplish without magic and how, as a child, she had loved going to see what she then thought was magic.

Her awe was refreshing and satisfying and made him wonder where he had gone wrong in life, that he hadn’t known this feeling until now. But, then, he knew the answer to that.

When they passed Honeydukes, his heart became heavier. The cream and red striped awning brought to mind countless packages of treats sent by his mother over the years. It was her way of loving him.

His changed mood must have shown because he suddenly had a small warm hand in his. Draco’s heart lurched. And then she was dragging him up the steps until they both stood in the entrance, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of options. Granger’s hand stayed in his for a good ten seconds while Draco tried to analyze the odd feeling in his stomach before she slowly let go.

Draco snickered at her attempts to ply him with candy and she huffed at him with each thing he turned down. She was trying to make him feel good, he knew that, and for a moment he felt a twinge of jealousy towards the Gryffindorks she called her best friends. Lucky sods. After having his bit of fun with her, Draco filled a small bag with his favourite buttery caramels and paid for both of their bags.

Hogsmeade had never really done much for Draco, but he had to admit, he was having a good time. It could have even been a great time if he weren’t so busy comparing her face flushed from warmth after being out in the cold, to her face flushed from pleasure after she’d come.

Those thoughts really weren’t helping.

**************************************************

They had lunch in The Three Broomsticks and stopped in Scrivenshaft’s so Draco could get a new ink bottle. When Hermione asked what happened to his, Draco just muttered under his breath. When she asked again he told her he accidentally broke it trying to transfigure it. She gave him a disbelieving quirk of her eyebrow, but didn’t say anything else about it.

Hermione suggested visiting the Shrieking Shack, and they turned down the small street in that direction. The last time Draco had been there had not been pleasant, but it was years ago, and if it meant spending a little longer in this ambiguous state with her, he would have probably agreed to just about anything.

Hermione finally relented and let Draco cast a warming charm over both of them and they trudged through the deep snow in relative comfort. The road to the Shrieking Shack was deserted and neglected, and something about the lack of buildings, people, and even trees gave off a sense of quietness. And so for a while they were quiet and the only sounds they could hear were their feet displacing and compacting the snow and the high pitched warble of small bird in the distance.

As the derelict building came into view, Draco was reminded of the hurtful words he had said to her here, years before. While he had apologized, the regret was still there. He leaned on the wobbly fence and looked thoughtfully at the old, broken down house. He tried to imagine it in it its full glory and almost had the picture formed in his head when something hard and cold collided with the back of his head.

Draco whipped around to see Granger doubled over in laughter. Oh, he could play this game…

“Think that was funny, do you, Princess?”

“Oh my…you.. you should have seen your face,” she doubled over again.

Draco started to advance on her and she squealed and ran behind a tree. A second snowball came flying towards him and he dodged it easily. Draco smiled evilly. Bring it on, Granger. Bring it on.

Draco kneeled behind a large mound of snow and pulled out his wand. As soon as he had about twenty good-sized balls piled up he levitated them and snuck out from behind the mound to send them flying. More often then not, his ammunition found its target and the regular litany of shrieks and screams confirmed his accuracy.

“MALFOYYYY!!!”

“What Granger? You didn’t think you’d be able to win, did you?” he laughed.

A second later, a very red-nosed witch stepped out from behind the tree, clumps of snow clinging to her cloak and hair.

“Face it Granger, you’re no match for me.” He snickered as she brushed herself off and put her hands on her hips.

“Actually, Malfoy…,” Draco didn’t like the gleam in her eyes, “you’re right. I am no match for you. Because, in fact…” she paused for effect, “I’m quite a bit better than you,” she finished smugly.

She flicked her wand so fast he barely saw it, and before he could move, at least ten large white snowballs were flying towards him.

Draco flew behind his mound, thinking he had just managed an escape when the first ball smacked him in the shoulder. And then the next, and the next, and Draco abandoned his hideout in favour of a tree. Smack. Smack. Smack. He ran behind another tree to escape the relentless onslaught and didn’t even have time to wonder how she had spelled the snowballs to follow him.

He peeked out from behind the tree and flicked his wand at the stream heading towards him and yelled a choppy Finite Incantatem. When it didn’t work he shot her an evil glare and yelled a promise of retribution. The little witch just crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a self-satisfied grin. Well, there was really only one thing to do in a situation like this.

Bring the mighty down with you.

Draco started to run towards her, snowballs smacking him in the back and the shoulders and a couple finding his head. The smug smile slipped off Hermione’s face as she realized what was Draco was going to do and she screamed that scream only girls can make, and ran towards her hiding spot.

He caught up to her just as she jumped behind the thick trunk of a tree and, without slowing down, he barrelled into her, bringing them both crashing to the ground as she shrieked. That did the trick. Her concentration was broken and the remaining snowballs plopped to the ground. Draco looked down at the laughing girl under him – eyes almost shut with mirth, head tilted back, and her belly puffing with her laughs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw something move and he looked up to find a pair of snow-hands balling up spheres of snow and adding them to a humungous pile of snowballs. Clever little witch.

“Nice arsenal, Granger,” Draco scowled down at the giggling girl.

“Yes,” she said with a wide goofy smile. “Do you like it? I made it just for you.” She barely got the last word out before succumbing to a new fit of giggles.

That unholy, mischievous grin she had seen once before suddenly lit on Draco’s features and Hermione’s eyes became huge as she shook her head in protest even before she knew what he was planning.

Without giving her time to figure it out, Draco’s fingers were digging into her ribs beneath the heavy wool cloak. She squirmed and wriggled and laughed and kicked underneath him as he tickled her and Draco would have done anything to stop time right then.

The little grey cap fell off as her head thrashed around, her skinny arms pushing at his chest as she tried unsuccessfully to dislodge him. Unexpectedly she managed to bring a handful of snow to his face and smash it onto his cheek and ear. She cackled, but then yelped and screamed at the coldness as Draco retaliated with a much larger handful of snow that he smooshed over her face and down her neck.

She shook her head back and forth trying to get the cold, wet snow off her face. Blood rushed through Draco’s ears. Her frantic wriggling was making him lose control and he quickly trapped her arms and legs under him.

Her warm brown eyes blinked up at him and he felt her body suddenly go still. The change in the air around them was tangible. To Draco, it seemed as if the world had shrunk suddenly, so that all that existed was the space between their faces and her ragged breaths sending her chest into his.

In what felt like slow motion, Draco watched his fingers come up to her face and brush the remaining snow off her cheek, and his eyes followed them down, over her jaw, to her neck, where he dragged his fingers over a small clump of melting snow.

“Well, this is familiar.”



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Thank you to kazfeist and hafthand for being awesome betas! Everyone will benefit from your magic!

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You guys make me feel so good! SO FREAKIN’ GOOD!

To Laur, Rainaangel, DracosBear, tootsie, angeles, Episkey, Mrs.Malfoy, Liz, Anon, Crissy, RussianRouletteKiss, and DrpnBlood4U: Thank you! You know all the love is what keeps this going. You all are like the water-people at a marathon. I think I would drop dead of dehydration without you. (That was a bad analogy, I know. I’m sorry. * hangs head *)


distinctlyME
Aw! You’re not that guilty of lurking. I know you have left me love before. Thank you for that! I’m so glad you like the pacing and the wording. Squeee! I’ll look forward to your reviews.

JKRsunkmyship
Sage’s The Fallout is in my top three fics of all time. (Which continually switch order on me). I even stopped reading because waiting for updates was making me crazy. I’m going soak it in, in all it’s gloriousness, when it’s done. But, yeah, I’ve gone and reread chapters to get my fix. LOL! I totally can’t believe you do that with this story. That makes me feel like a pile of warm goo. Thank you! I hope that Draco’s Christmas lightened the mood a little bit. ☺

Dreamweaver
Well, shit. There you go again. Are you peeking in my head? Jk. It’s great, as always, to hear your guesses and reactions. Thanks!

Himitsu
* hand you a tissue * I’m glad you don’t hate me for the not happy morning after. And I love what you said about the story. Thank you. I’m all gooey inside. I won’t tell you what is going to happen except to promise a happy ending. ☺

the bells
LMAO @ grudge sex. I never even thought of that.

Breenieweenie
* heart heart heart heart heart *

I’m probably going to go the marriage law fic route. I’m afraid I don’t know much about veela (though I DO love a possessive Draco, but I can still do that). And I’m too much of a chicken to do anything with Voldy. That man-thing scares the shit outta me. I’m definitely going to wait to CH is done so I can concentrate more on it. And OF COURSE I will write you sex scenes! lol! What’s marriage without sex? Speaking of being a smut-lover, you should check out the Smutastic Awards (and maybe nominate some of your favorite smut). Spread the love!

http://community.livejournal.com/smutastic_award/

scarletwitchextreme
So you’re the reason the hit counter is so high? Lol. Just kidding. I reread my favorite sexy scenes too! * points to Bound By Duty * I’m afraid “fixing” it is going to take a bit of work. But it’ll be a fun*cough*smutty*cough* ride.

LittleMissPrincess
The shortness is about the average length of my chapters, unless there is some serious smexing – cause I like describe smexing in detail. While Draco admitted his love to himself, I wonder how he is going to work up the nerve to tell Hermione. Too bad he wasn’t a Gryffindor. Thanks for reviewing! ☺

Wildcatcdc
* hugs * I think it’s good that you are feeling more for Draco right now. It reflects how deeply each of them are feeling – or how aware of how they are feeling. Hermione’s still a tad out of touch. So, I guess I’m glad that came through and affected you that way.

SoftObsidian74
Girl, you can fangirl me anytime! Will you throw your knickers at me and send me naughty letters? * dreamy sigh *

Okay, I read that over like (I’m from The Valley, forgive my “likes”) four times and I’m trying to think of something to say other than, “Awesome!” I guess I’ve never really noticed that sort of thing in literature unless it’s so bad that it hits me in the face. I’m also debilitatingly picky about what I read so… I’d be interested to know what authors you think do that well. When I analyze what I think emotions, I suppose I don’t think that men and women necessarily feel that differently. I’ve had a lot of “sensitive” men in my life and a lot of “powerful, driven” women. There maybe some differences in how we express things, and generally in how we interact. But I have to tell you that my husband has surprised me so many times with his depth of feeling and the poetic-ness of it, that it has made me question the stereotypes. It’s interesting what you said about relating more to Draco that Hermione (and wildcatcdc too). I hadn’t thought of it before, but I wonder if I do also…. Ohhhh, epiphany….

I think Hermione is like me writing about my intellect (as well as my past personal experience to a degree), while Draco is like me writing about my emotions (as well as my desires). Two sides of the same coin (that need to come together). And I can keep going with that and even say that Harry is kind of like a higher-self. The one that has perspective and watches from outside.

Okay, that’s enough indulgent mumbo-jumbo. I’m fucking ECSTATIC that this has affected you to this degree. WOW! * loves *

kittycat30
Draco? Give up? Never! Yes, you will get a happy ending! ☺

hate2luv
I know, wtf? I’m with ya.

sheryne
Thanks darlin’!

ichi.ruki
“ichi be speechless now, she only keep thinking....WOW!” (snicker) ichi refer to herself in third-person caveman talk. lol! You better snap out of it if I’m going to send Draco over to your house tonight! ☺

I’m glad you find things funny. I count on you for catching and appreciating my almost non-existent humor. lol! “my brain is swimming with possible "naughty, naughtier, and naughtiest" type options” Damn girl, you make me laugh! “Miss Wordy-Word Smith”, “Again with the "Find your sack, dude" and then the "speak your mind"”, “again with the "can't wait to see what happens next" part” DOES IT EVER END! LMAO! I’m going to break something! LOL!

Wait…What? Smut Drabble? * gets down on her kness (you pervs) and pleads * Pretty pretty pretty please?

kazfeist
* big giant hugs *

gabby1234
* hands over the contract for royalties *

Ero Sennin
Oh Ero! I know I already reviewed a couple chapters (and I’ll review the others too – very neat concept – even when I have no idea who the characters are!) but I wanted to say thank you for sharing with me! I’m still loving the image of exploding in a pile of sparkly confetti. I might have to borrow that phrase! xoxo

Smartgirl13w
I thank you twice and thrice for the love-nuggets! ☺ (Really, consider writing – a drabble maybe?)

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I hope you all liked this chapter. Pretty please let me know! * hugs for everyone *

Oh, and thank you to all the lurkers who've been popping up. It's so great to draw you out of your holes so we can get to know you!