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The favour
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
9,772
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
9,772
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or films. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Ten years later
Ten years later
“Didn’t Rosie look marvellous?” says Ron.
He’s had a little more champagne than is good for him and—with his hair tousled, his bow tie unravelled and his shirt collar unbuttoned—he looks disarmingly like the young boy Hermione had fallen in love with all those years ago.
“And Scorpius looked handsome,” she says.
“Well...”
“He’s your son-in-law now,” she chides, but she’s laughing, “and I happen to know that you’re really quite fond of him.”
“Well, if he’s chosen our Rosie, he must have some good qualities.”
“He’s a nice, polite boy,” says his mother, with the all finality of the Wizengamot pronouncing sentence—and Ron’s expression shows that he concedes defeat.
Hermione squeezes his arm affectionately and, leaving him in Molly’s care, she scans the room, looking for Scorpius’s father.
...
The ballroom of Malfoy Manor is hung with drifts of champagne-coloured silk, its windows draped with coral pink velvet, its long wooden tables dressed with a riot of pink roses tumbling from silver scorpion-shaped planters.
Still slightly disturbed by that particular piece of symbolism, Hermione threads her way through the wedding guests, smiling stiffly, as she passes, at the mother of the groom, who is sitting—with her usual elegant poise—between a slightly tipsy Narcissa and an impassive Lucius.
She spots Malfoy standing in one of the window bays—a tall, lonely, black-clad figure, staring out into the night. His beloved son has just set off on his honeymoon, she thinks. He must be feeling as old and as uprooted as I am.
She skirts a knot of merry-making Potters, and joins him at the window.
“I’m so proud of him, Granger,” he says as she approaches.
She doesn’t bother to ask how he knows it’s her. “Of course you are,” she says, laying a supportive hand on his arm. “And I’m proud of my daughter.”
“I know.”
She hears him take a deep breath, and release it slowly, and she knows him well enough to recognise that he’s struggling to master some very profound emotions.
She gives him time.
“Did you like the doves?” he asks, at last.
“They were wonderful.” She smiles. “The doves, the carriage, the fireworks—all of it was magical, Malfoy, in the Muggle sense of the word. It was a fairy-tale wedding. You couldn’t have given them anything better.”
“I did it for you—at least half of it was for you.”
Beneath her hand he feels strong and hard. At forty-six he’s still muscular, and there’s not an ounce of extra flesh on his body. She glances round the room. They’re partially screened by one of the floral arrangements—and, besides, no one is taking any notice of them—so she moves a little closer, and she murmurs, “Shall we go somewhere more private, Malfoy?”
“And then...?” he asks.
“And then,” she replies, huskily, “I want you inside me.”
He smiles, and she watches his eyes dart to Astoria, to his parents, and to Ron, before he leans towards her, and—with a welcome gleam of mischief in those pale grey eyes—asks, “Again?”
“It must be something about weddings,” she says, innocently.
“You,” he says, slipping his arms around her waist, “are a wanton,”—kiss—“woman,”—kiss—“Mrs Malfoy.”
THE END
...
Epilogue
She sinks into his arms, laying her head upon his chest, and she’s just drifting off to sleep when he wakes her with a pat on the bottom.
“You know, Granger, we’re really not too old.”
“You speak for yourself,” she sighs. At the moment, she feels like she’s run a marathon. “Oh, Merlin, Draco, we have to get back to the ballroom. People are going to start missing their host and hostess...”
She lifts her head, looking for her discarded robes and, as she spots them in tatters beside the door, a question occurs to her. “Too old for what, Malfoy?”
“A baby,” he says. “A Granger-Malfoy baby.”
* * * * *
Thank you to everyone who has left comments on the first part.
DarQuing: I will be writing more about teenage Draco and Hermione, including what happens when the others find out :-)
Flaming Moth of Doom: Thank you :-)
Eppie: I hope you liked parts 2 & 3.
Dreamweaver: It had quite a sad touch to it... I’m glad you felt that—it’s not going to be easy for them when the others find out.
kimbclar12: Thank you :-)
jaceni: Thank you for your comment!
why didn't she like kisses Plot-wise, I felt that she shouldn’t respond to Draco too soon—she’s curious about sex but, at first, she’s observing it rather than taking part, so Draco has to work hard, and when she does begin to respond to him, it’s a big part of what makes him fall in love with her. Character-wise, I felt that, being a bit of a control freak, she would prefer to kiss rather than be kissed (which is why she is happy to give Draco a blow job, because it puts her in control). Her previous experience has been with Viktor Krum, a big bear of a man who probably made her feel physically small, with Cormac McLaggen, a groper, and with Ron, who, for the purposes of a Dramione story, was not particularly good ;-) When she turns to Draco-the-expert it’s partly because—not having enjoyed kissing—she’s afraid that she may not enjoy sex, and she needs to find out.
did she love him before she asked him to be her first I don’t think she loves him, but she’s very attracted to him, and it’s not just physical. She’s seen him coping with his change of circumstances, she’s seen how protective he is of his mother, and she’s intrigued. By the end of part one, he’s given her the best experience of her life and she’s well on her way to loving him, but she’s still not quite there yet...
“Didn’t Rosie look marvellous?” says Ron.
He’s had a little more champagne than is good for him and—with his hair tousled, his bow tie unravelled and his shirt collar unbuttoned—he looks disarmingly like the young boy Hermione had fallen in love with all those years ago.
“And Scorpius looked handsome,” she says.
“Well...”
“He’s your son-in-law now,” she chides, but she’s laughing, “and I happen to know that you’re really quite fond of him.”
“Well, if he’s chosen our Rosie, he must have some good qualities.”
“He’s a nice, polite boy,” says his mother, with the all finality of the Wizengamot pronouncing sentence—and Ron’s expression shows that he concedes defeat.
Hermione squeezes his arm affectionately and, leaving him in Molly’s care, she scans the room, looking for Scorpius’s father.
...
The ballroom of Malfoy Manor is hung with drifts of champagne-coloured silk, its windows draped with coral pink velvet, its long wooden tables dressed with a riot of pink roses tumbling from silver scorpion-shaped planters.
Still slightly disturbed by that particular piece of symbolism, Hermione threads her way through the wedding guests, smiling stiffly, as she passes, at the mother of the groom, who is sitting—with her usual elegant poise—between a slightly tipsy Narcissa and an impassive Lucius.
She spots Malfoy standing in one of the window bays—a tall, lonely, black-clad figure, staring out into the night. His beloved son has just set off on his honeymoon, she thinks. He must be feeling as old and as uprooted as I am.
She skirts a knot of merry-making Potters, and joins him at the window.
“I’m so proud of him, Granger,” he says as she approaches.
She doesn’t bother to ask how he knows it’s her. “Of course you are,” she says, laying a supportive hand on his arm. “And I’m proud of my daughter.”
“I know.”
She hears him take a deep breath, and release it slowly, and she knows him well enough to recognise that he’s struggling to master some very profound emotions.
She gives him time.
“Did you like the doves?” he asks, at last.
“They were wonderful.” She smiles. “The doves, the carriage, the fireworks—all of it was magical, Malfoy, in the Muggle sense of the word. It was a fairy-tale wedding. You couldn’t have given them anything better.”
“I did it for you—at least half of it was for you.”
Beneath her hand he feels strong and hard. At forty-six he’s still muscular, and there’s not an ounce of extra flesh on his body. She glances round the room. They’re partially screened by one of the floral arrangements—and, besides, no one is taking any notice of them—so she moves a little closer, and she murmurs, “Shall we go somewhere more private, Malfoy?”
“And then...?” he asks.
“And then,” she replies, huskily, “I want you inside me.”
He smiles, and she watches his eyes dart to Astoria, to his parents, and to Ron, before he leans towards her, and—with a welcome gleam of mischief in those pale grey eyes—asks, “Again?”
“It must be something about weddings,” she says, innocently.
“You,” he says, slipping his arms around her waist, “are a wanton,”—kiss—“woman,”—kiss—“Mrs Malfoy.”
THE END
...
Epilogue
She sinks into his arms, laying her head upon his chest, and she’s just drifting off to sleep when he wakes her with a pat on the bottom.
“You know, Granger, we’re really not too old.”
“You speak for yourself,” she sighs. At the moment, she feels like she’s run a marathon. “Oh, Merlin, Draco, we have to get back to the ballroom. People are going to start missing their host and hostess...”
She lifts her head, looking for her discarded robes and, as she spots them in tatters beside the door, a question occurs to her. “Too old for what, Malfoy?”
“A baby,” he says. “A Granger-Malfoy baby.”
* * * * *
Thank you to everyone who has left comments on the first part.
DarQuing: I will be writing more about teenage Draco and Hermione, including what happens when the others find out :-)
Flaming Moth of Doom: Thank you :-)
Eppie: I hope you liked parts 2 & 3.
Dreamweaver: It had quite a sad touch to it... I’m glad you felt that—it’s not going to be easy for them when the others find out.
kimbclar12: Thank you :-)
jaceni: Thank you for your comment!
why didn't she like kisses Plot-wise, I felt that she shouldn’t respond to Draco too soon—she’s curious about sex but, at first, she’s observing it rather than taking part, so Draco has to work hard, and when she does begin to respond to him, it’s a big part of what makes him fall in love with her. Character-wise, I felt that, being a bit of a control freak, she would prefer to kiss rather than be kissed (which is why she is happy to give Draco a blow job, because it puts her in control). Her previous experience has been with Viktor Krum, a big bear of a man who probably made her feel physically small, with Cormac McLaggen, a groper, and with Ron, who, for the purposes of a Dramione story, was not particularly good ;-) When she turns to Draco-the-expert it’s partly because—not having enjoyed kissing—she’s afraid that she may not enjoy sex, and she needs to find out.
did she love him before she asked him to be her first I don’t think she loves him, but she’s very attracted to him, and it’s not just physical. She’s seen him coping with his change of circumstances, she’s seen how protective he is of his mother, and she’s intrigued. By the end of part one, he’s given her the best experience of her life and she’s well on her way to loving him, but she’s still not quite there yet...