Intensity

Disclaimer: This story contains characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. and AOL/Time Warner, Inc. No profit is being made and no infringement is intended.
Song lyrics used belong to Matchbox Twenty, and again, no profit is being made and no infringement is intended.



Chapter Four

I'm sorry 'bout the attitude
I need to give when I'm with you
But no one else would take this shit from me
And I'm so
Terrified of no one else but me
I'm here all the time
I won't go away
[Matchbox 20 - 'Long Day']

Hermione rushed down to Harry's bedside as soon as Corey had informed her of his sudden consciousness. She had almost flown down the flights of stairs from the library upon hearing the news, but when she arrived at the doors to where Harry's limp body had rested for the last however-many-days, she could not find the strength to go through.

She had waited for this moment for weeks. She had sat by his side day and night, waiting for him to open his eyes so that she could shout obscenities at him. Blame him for everything that was going wrong. Hate him for all the deaths on their side that had been happening in the masses daily.

But now that she was on the brink of that moment, she couldn't face it. She didn't want to be this person anymore; so bitter and angry. She just felt raw all of the time... And fucking Draco day and night wasn't doing anything to hinder that pain.

As Hermione was lingering outside the doors to the Great Hall, where the hospital beds had been set up to cope with the magnitude of daily casualties, Amber stepped out and seemed thrilled to see Hermione.

“Oh, you must be so relieved!” she exclaimed.

Hermione figured the only answer she could give in this moment was the lie she had perfected over the last month.

“Well, yes, of course!” she smiled, feeling hollow.

“I'm afraid he's dropped back off again now, but I think that's normal. He's been out for such a long time his body is just exhausted, but it's so good that's he managed to come around. It's one step closer to a full recovery,” she beamed.
In other words, Hermione thought, it's one step closer to the end of this war.

She entered with trepidation, and stepped cautiously toward Harry's bed, as if he would suddenly awake and hurl hexes at her for all the things she'd said and done while he was in here.

'You were such a great man,' she thought, seated in the chair besides his bed which she had sat in for so many hours at a time in the past weeks. 'You were kind, and loving, and I used to dream of marrying you one day... and having you love me in return. You were generous. You laughed, and had fun, and broke all the rules. You were alive...What happened?'

Harry's eyes flickered open for the second time that day, the second time in weeks. As Hermione sat watching him breathe, thinking of the past, she didn't know if she had the strength to speak to her husband, to hold a conversation pretending she was even concerned with his well-being.

Harry looked directly at Hermione, daring Hermione to stare back into his own emerald orbs. Hermione obliged and waited for Harry to speak.

After a few minutes- to which Hermione thought felt like an hour- Harry spoke with a weak and gruff voice:

“How's Ginny?”

Hermione nearly snorted at the question. She should have expected it though. She smiled, almost genuinely, and replied softly: “She's fine, Harry. She's not been hurt at all,” she paused, “She's been worried about you,”

Hermione wasn't too sure why she was responding in such a way; so calmly. It was just so typically Harry though; asking about another woman as soon as he can open his mouth. She saw the relief in his face when she gave him the information though. It almost made her happy to know that Harry at least cared for somebody else these days though except for his hard done-by self.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione continued, not wanting the conversation to drift too far toward Ginny. She didn't need too much reminding of her husband's affection for their long-time friend.

“I'm... fine. Just fine,” he answered, tiredly. He had almost forgotten how hard it was to be alive in this place.

Harry had been in a make-believe world for the last several weeks while he was unconscious. A world where Ron was alive, and Ginny was his. A world where he and Hermione were friends. A world where the fate of the world was not resting on his shoulders. A world with his parents, and Sirius, and Lupin. A world with sunlight, and fresh air, not just this grey mist which seemed to just exist around them. He wished to go back to this place, even for a moment, just to appreciate the magic of having everyone he loved.

“Well, that's good then I suppose. Amber and Corey reckoned you wouldn't wake up again for a while, least of all be able to talk sense, so that's all very good,” Hermione replied in her most clinical and detached voice.

Harry didn't respond, he just lay in the bed he'd been in for nearly a month.

A month didn't seem like a particularly long time, but for Hermione, these last few weeks had felt an entire lifetime. She'd not only come to resent her husband with more malice than she thought existed in a person, but she also fucked Draco Malfoy. She had had more sex in these few weeks than she had in the last year with her husband, and found more passion in herself than she'd ever held for her estranged husband.

“How long was I out?” Harry eventually broke the hovering silence once again.

“Nearly a month,” she replied, emotionless.

“I see you're happy to find me awake then,” Harry commented, his voice seething with sarcasm.

“Not everything is about you, Harry,” Hermione sighed tiredly. “Have you considered how your current state has effected me in the last few weeks?”

“Hermione, I was in a coma. You really want to have a go at winning this one?” he bitterly retorted.

'I've already won,' she thought, memories of Draco's naked form sprung to her mind. His sweet, skilled, sensuous tongue licking her cunt until she came, leaving her taste on his lips which he then brought up to her own as he then moved his hard penis inside of her, bringing on multiple, heartbreaking orgasms.

“I can't be doing with this right now, Harry. You have no idea what's being going on. The people who've been injured, killed.”

Harry looked into Hermione's eyes, probably the first time since Ron's death.

“Sorry, I guess I don't,” he replied simply.

And Hermione believed his apology.

“Okay,” she replied, “Okay.”

They sat in silence for several hours after that, Hermione keeping an eye out for an appearance from Draco. To be frank, Hermione had been more worried recently that Draco would end up in here injured, than that Harry might not wake up. She knew it was selfish. Everybody was relying on Harry to wake up to end this thing.

He was her husband, of course she didn't want him to die. But, at the same time, she really wasn't too fussed about him waking up. It was Harry, of course he would come around and save the day eventually. Hermione's mind, though, was so concerned that the one man who provided an escape - and just happened to be the son of a renowned Death-Eater - would be killed, which would force her to face reality. If Draco Malfoy were to die, she would lose her escape and the small amount of freedom she had in this world, and be dragged to reality to face the terrors of the war. Hermione realised that if Draco were to die, she would be standing alone within this terrible and magnificent castle. That thought terrified her more than if the war should never end.

“£$%^&*&^%$£$%

I know, but I still
Believe in ignorance as my best defense
So go on, wreck me
Funny how I carry on, and not be taken over
Will not roll over on anyone,
cuz anyone would stand up on my side

“He's awake then?” Draco drawled, looking at Hermione with an expression she could not read. Of course, this was nothing new. Draco was nothing if not a constant mystery.

“Yeah...” she answered half-heartedly, her mind more focussed on trying to work out where Draco could have been for the last week, and why he was suddenly willing to talk to her after their departure last time.

“So...?” Draco asked, expecting Hermione to suggest an end to their convenient shags.

She looked at him blankly.

“Are you calling this off then? Feeling guilty now the arse-hole is conscious?”

Hermione smirked.

“We were shagging before he was in a coma, I don't see any reason to suddenly stop,” she replied.

She couldn't understand her feelings. When Harry had awoken, she'd felt guilty. Well, not guilty, per se, but somewhat ashamed of her disloyalty and anger towards her husband.
But when she was with Draco, oh she just could not help but not give a shit.

“Sounds good to me,” Draco responded, moving towards Hermione, forcing her to lean back on the bookshelf.

“We're in the library, Malfoy. Someone might catch us.”

“Correction: someone might catch you. I'm not committing adultery,” he grinned, “ and I didn't see you putting a stop to it in the middle of the very public corridors when my cock was deep inside you.”

Hermione moaned as Draco laced sensuous kisses down her neck, towards her cleavage. “But, Harry's awake now,” Hermione managed to whisper while still under Draco's spell. “I just don't think it's a good idea-”

“Shut up, Granger,” Draco retorted, suddenly angry. “Do you actually think I give a crap about you and save-the-world Potter's relationship? I mean, do you think I'm fucking you out of concern for your own sexual satisfaction?” he shouted, looking Hermione in the eye now.

Hermione couldn't bear this, though. She looked down, at the small distance between both their bodies. She couldn't help herself as she reached forward and unclasped Draco's robe, pulled his plain, tight, black t-shirt over his head and nearly drowned in the sight of his torso.

His body was so satisfying to look at. Overwhelming, almost.

He was toned, no doubt from Quidditch. Harry and Ron had the same slim yet muscular physique, yet neither of them could compare to Draco's pale, flawless skin and untouchable aura.

Her fingertips lightly brushed down from his collar bone, over his muscular stomach, down to the zip on his trousers. Draco practically thrust his cock into her hands right there, desire yearning from his own body at her slightest touch.

Hermione's experienced fingers reached down and groped his prominent erection through the material of his trousers. He was hard as ever, and Hermione came to the conclusion that it was fighting with her that got him so aroused. He was so hard so quickly when they'd been shouting or disagreeing over something. Being Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy though, they usually were having some kind of disagreement so it worked out quite well in terms of their sex life.

Hermione felt herself grow wetter and hotter as she gripped Draco firmly, and dropped to her knees to fill her throat with his cock. She knew girls who were disgusted by the thought of giving head, but Hermione was never that fussed by it. In her opinion, anything which got her man this fucking hard and horny was well worth the trouble. And she didn't particularly dislike the actual doing of it. To feel his long hard shaft moving against her lips, her tongue, and against the back of her throat turned her on. She was as close as she could be to Draco's most private parts of his body, and she almost felt like it was an honour, like it was a treasured jewel which she should be lucky enough to have this much control over.

After a few minutes of Draco growing to his biggest, Hermione stood up and looked Draco in the eyes as if daring him to make the next move.

He obliged.

His hand reached out to Hermione's middle and turned her forcefully to face the bookshelf which leaned against the back wall. He shoved her forward so that she fell upon it, and he pressed his stiff erection against Hermione so that she could feel it hard against her arse. He lifted her skirt up to around her waist and pulled aside her knickers. She moaned uncontrollably when he thrust inside her. She felt like it had been so long that she had been deprived of this sensation.

Her hot, wet tightness led to Draco letting out a sigh of pleasure as well upon entering her.

After some time fucking each other against that wall though, Draco pulled out, causing Hermione's disappointment. She need not have reacted in such a way though, as Draco then promptly fell to his knees and spread Hermione's legs over his face.

By this point, Hermione's inner thighs were smothered in her own cum and both Draco's and her own sweet sweat. Draco slowly licked it up, and caused Hermione to bite her lip to stop any extreme volume as his tongue dipped into the thick cream inside her cunt. He then continued to suck and lick her deliciously wet pussy, and finger her clit, until her knees were quivering, unable to hold up her body any longer.

“Oh God, Draco. Please...”

“Please what? Please stop?” Draco smirked into Hermione's inner thigh, knowing she hated it when he wouldn't obey to her demands.

“Please shut the fuck up and bring your cock up here,” she replied, her voice quivering as she looked down at Draco's one hand pumping his own cock and his other rubbing her clit so excitingly. She felt him give one hard lick of her pussy before he stood up and dragged Hermione over to the nearest study table. He laid her down so that her legs hung over the edge of the table and his feet stayed on the ground as he leaned over her body and pushed his way back into the slick deep hole.

One leg over his shoulder, they thrust together, Hermione screaming uncontrollably.
Draco held on as long as possible; Hermione's moans making it hard not to come there and then.
He ripped open Hermione's plain white blouse and pulled her firm, round breasts from the cups of her bra. With his mouth he sucked on one while his hand played with the other. Squeezing and sucking, Hermione arched into him to get more of it. He stopped then though, and his hands squeezed her small waist, holding her down whilst he fucked her into oblivion.

They came at the same time, which didn't often happen, and Draco collapsed, exhausted, on top of Hermione's own sweat glistening body.

“Blimey,” Hermione whispered.

“What?” Draco asked, lifting his head from next to her own to look her in the eyes.

“Harry should wake up from comas more often,” she smirked.

“Mm,” Draco agreed as he sat up and pulled out, his own cum falling onto the desk with Hermione's own.

£$%^&*&^%^&)^%

TBC


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