A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

Things might be coming to a close between Hermione and Rabastan. Yes, some smut, but also a confrontation between Harry and Rabastan.




Chapter 46- Honor Defend

“Rabastan! Get the hell out of my room right now!”

A grinning Professor of Potions grinned wickedly and leaped onto Hermione’s bed, a feral growl bursting from his chest. “I will not be denied, little lady. Your body will be mine.”

Hermione shrieked, clutching the oversized towel to her chest as her hair flung droplets of bathwater across the room as she ran from him.

He pulled out his wand as his eyes followed her train of escape. In a flash he cut her off before she could dash from the room.

“That’s not fair! You can’t use magic on me, I’m naked!”

“All the better to take advantage of you my dear!” The huge man looked ridiculous waggling his eyebrows at her.

Hermione feigned a pull to her right and backpedalled instead, locking herself into the bathroom. A quick, forceful thrust of one arm took the entire door off its hinges.

“You have no right coming into my private quarters without my permission!”

“Like the day you came in unannounced to mine?”

“That was different; I had information to give you.”

“It didn’t stop you from failing to perform proper etiquette.”

“I wasn’t aware I had to let you know every time I came through the Floo.”

“You don’t, if you want to get fucked each time you step foot in my personal quarters.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just come in here and-“

He shut her up with a fabulous kiss. “On the contrary, I will do whatever I wish, and you will welcome it.”

This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening. Not here, not now. Not where I made love to Severus! Yet her feet remained glued to the floor, her vocal cords constricted tightly as her body trembled under his magical hands.

Her silence was his permission to strip the silly towel from her naked form. “Tell me how you want it, Hermione. Shall I do it slow and steady or hard and quick? You seemed to enjoy the last furious romp we had.”

“NO! I don’t want you! Get out of my room!” She beat at his chest with her bare fists and he caught them easily.

“Don’t toy with me, girl,” he growled roughly. “I’ve had enough of your fucking games. Get over your false sense of propriety and overdue sympathies for your missing boyfriend. I hardly think now is the time to be a remorseful little slut after the fact.”

She struggled weakly as he pulled her against him, her bare breasts electrifying even through the fabric of his tunic.

“Tell me what you want, love. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Hermione’s body shuddered involuntarily. Sighing with defeat, she said the only thing she knew he wanted to hear. “Take me hard, Rabastan.”

His breath hitched as he sat her up on the substantial bathroom counter. The green marble clashed beautifully with her silky cream skin. He shoved her legs open and plied her wet cunt with probing fingers, finding her slick, needy center. Their heads thudded against the mirror, lips warring with tongues, calloused fingertips bringing her to a quick, shuddering climax.

“You are so beautiful when you come for me, Hermione. Come for me again sweet princess.”

“Finger me, Rabastan!”

“With pleasure.” His middle finger stroked her heat, thumb working over the pleasure. Her breath came in short gasps as he adeptly took her on a brief walk off a towering cliff and caught her with his thrusting member, burying it deep inside. He prolonged the second orgasm for her with long, slow strokes, milking out her creamy essence to lubricate him to the fullest. She had grown to stretch so very nicely for him over the past week. Her pussy barely fit around him and the achingly tight fit was exquisite. The Gods themselves couldn’t have tailor-made a better woman to wrap herself around him.

Hermione’s head was flung back against the mirror, hands pulling at his tawny hair until the last of her shudders subsided. “Do it now,” she rasped out, those legs giving him the telltale go-ahead when they tightened around his waist.

The bruising tightness of his grip shook with the force of his gratification. His imposing length thrilled with gusto, the climax washing over him much sooner than he wanted.

“Damn,” he muttered into her hair, mad at himself. This was the second time he had lost himself in her tightness. Either he was getting old or this witch had cast a spell on him. This was not something he made a habit of doing.

“What’s the matter?”

He hated when witches asked questions. It made the moment awkward. “Nothing.” Pulling out of her was like a junkie coming down off of a high. As soon as he was done with her he wanted more. It was weakness to admit the fallibility but was eating him up inside not to indulge. He was still hard. It often took two, sometimes three times if he was really raring to go, sessions of lovemaking to satisfy him. That was for par for the course. He wondered how many times he would be able to take her if he had her naked and alone in his bed for a full twenty-four hour period.

She knew she shouldn’t have asked him that question as soon as she said it. It had put him on the spot and made him turn away from her. Instead of ruining an already awkward moment for him, she quietly left the room and went to lie on her bed. She closed her eyes and lazily ran circles around her nipples, pinching them gently, licking her fingers and running them over the tips. The pink rosebuds blossomed in the cool air of the room. She moaned softly, breathing his name when she slid two fingers inside to start pumping herself.

It didn’t take much coaxing on her part to get him inside of her again. “My God Hermione, what are you doing to me?” he exclaimed wonderingly. “I can’t get enough of you.” He shoved her up to the top of the bed and grabbed the headboard for leverage to pump her with wild abandon. He didn’t hold back the pounding or grunting with their flesh crashing together, making loud slapping noises that she was sure the rest of the house could hear. An uninhibited Rabastan enunciated his release with an open mouthed moan of her name, long and drawn out. She was almost finished as well, begging him to stroke her a little longer until she panted breathily, small hands clutching his broad shoulders, impaled to the hilt. His full length felt so incredibly sexy during her third orgasm in the space of fifteen minutes.

Her sweaty body bullied him onto his back and his cock was in her mouth before he could say “Holy Merlin’s Balls.” No unbidden thoughts of any negative experience came to her mind. In this moment, her only focus was on Rabastan.

Her come and his mingled into her mouth, her oral pleasure submitting no hesitation in the efficiency with which she sucked his tender, half-erect member back to full form.

“Hermione!” The vociferation of sound was a wall of desire that landed her prone on hands and knees. Breathing, moans, and the sweaty slapping of engorged flesh permeated the balmy evening air. Three sets of fingerprints bruised her hips on either side from his unconsciously rough grip.

He was almost too sensitive to come. It was too soon after the second one. He was desperate to get off this one last time inside of her. The peak seemed to hover just out of reach while his pounding reached a fever pitch of intensity.

Sensing his desperation, Hermione pulled her trump card. She clenched her vaginal muscles firmly on the outtake. The shock of surprise blasted the orgasm from him. At last, his balls felt empty, the lust satiated with completion. He collapsed on top of her back, keeping inside of her for as long as possible.

Neither of them spoke, not wanting to be the one to break the contentment. At long last he rolled her over and ran languid kisses on and around her neck and breasts, latching on before spoiling her with kisses, nuzzling her chin.

“Thank you Hermione. I have sincerely enjoyed this time we have shared. If the mission I’m to take part in tonight leads to the apprehension of Severus I will not put you in a position to betray him. I give you my word as a pureblood Slytherin. I leave the choice to you. I will no longer come to you, but if you desire me, you know where my bedchambers are.”

She nodded, holding him close to her chest for a few more moments before releasing him to leave.

He might be able to stay away from her, but she was not so sure about her own convictions anymore.


--

An exhausted, cold, soaking wet crew huddled around steaming mugs of tea in the Weasley’s kitchen. No one paid him mind when Rabastan left to go upstairs to apprise Hermione of their search that day. Minutes later the unmistakable rhythmic thumping of a headboard against the wall and shouts of pleasure sent disquieted glances rocketing around table from one Order member to another.

“That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Neville put to the others in a disgusted tone.

Arthur tried his best to tear his gaze from the others and stare blankly at the wall. “It’s none of our business, mate. Best be pretending you don’t hear a thing.”

Harry shuddered, knowing who Hermione’s ‘distraction’ from reality now was. It sounded like he was taking her pretty violently. “Maybe I should go up and check to see if she’s okay,” he wondered aloud but Arthur clapped a fatherly hand to stop him.

“It’s not your business, either of you. If those two,” he cleared his throat, clearly unsettled, “wish to be intimate, they are consenting adults and none of our concern.”

The trio were all visibly relieved when the disconcerting noise subsided. Rabastan sauntered down the stairs as if nothing untoward had happened. His indiscreetly pulled the last of his belt through the buckle before flashing the men a grin. They all looked away uncomfortably.

Ignoring the obvious, they were all relieved when the discussion was revived to plan their vigil for the night. A few hours of sleep would be all the group was afforded before taking Arthur’s flying car and Neville’s grandmother’s sedan.
Draco hadn’t left them an easy trail to follow. The three stars, as far as they had been able to find, was an obscure design wound into the vines of an old couple’s trellis in their back garden. No other design of similar description was found so this was all they had to go on.

They followed the rest of the description to a non-identifying looking lane that ran behind a row of abandoned buildings slated for demolition. It would be easy to position themselves at either entrance to the lane, about a quarter mile apart and in plain view from one end to the other. There was nowhere to hide a vehicle. It was going to be a huge risk sitting exposed out in the open. The best they were going to be able to do was disillusion the vehicles, hide in a nearby building and wait.

Molly Weasley stomped into the house from the horrid squalling weather outside. Both babies were wailing at the top of their lungs under her great rain slicker. “If I’d have known the fickle weather was going to turn sour I would have never chosen to walk home with the babies. Husband of mine, you need to tell your daughter to quit losing her wand and borrowing mine. It’s going to be the death of these poor babies. Hermione!” she shrieked.

A chagrined Hermione rushed down the stairs in freshly laundered robes and tidied hair. Her arms filled with wailing children as she hushed them while bustling back up the stairs. The looks exchanged between her and Rabastan were not lost on Harry or Arthur. Neville, as always, was clueless, adrift in his tea, musing over the pattern of the granules in the bottom of his mug as if in introspection over some long forgotten divination lesson.

Harry looked annoyed while Arthur shifted in a vexed manner to a new position. “I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep.”

“Yes, we all should,” Arthur agreed with Harry, shooing the rest of the group from the table. “The night is going to be eventful enough without having four tired wizards in the mix.”

“At least some of us will have an easier time falling asleep,” Harry muttered.

Rabastan crossed his arms over his chest, blocking Harry’s way. “Do you have a problem with me, Potter?”

“I might,” he countered, jaw jutting out and green eyes flashing. “I don’t like my best friend’s vulnerability being taken advantage of by opportunistic pigs.”

Deadly calm issued from the man three sizes bigger than Harry. “Who I shag is none of your fucking business, Potter. She was not an unwilling participant.”

“She’s been through hell and back! What would you know about who she really is!”

“I could care less who she really is. If a young witch wants to share her body with me, I am not a fool to turn her down.”

“You’re using her you swine!”

“Now see here Potter!”

Out came the wands of both powerful, incensed wizards, taking a dueling stance.

“Whoa! This is going to stop right here and now!” Arthur interjected, drawing his own wand on the pair.

Molly Weasley skirted the confrontation, shaking Neville by the shoulders and hissing, “What is this all about?” Neville just shook his head, dumbstruck and unable to reply.

“You tell this unprincipled boar to get out of here before I hex his balls off!”

A warning shower of sparks erupted from the tip of Rabastan’s wand. “Back off, Potter. I will not tell you again.”

“Both of you back off. There will be no petty dueling in this house! There are children about! Now if both of you don’t put your wands away you’re both going to have more to worry about than wounded pride!”

Harry begrudgingly lowered his wand. His respect for Arthur outweighed his disgust for Rabastan in the current moment.
Rabastan sneered, shoving his own wand back up his sleeve.

“Stay away from her.”

“I will do as I please.”

“That’s enough! Now both of you go cool your heels and get some rest. Settle this another time.”

“This isn’t over Rabastan.”

“Yes it is Potter. If you come after me you won’t know what hit you. Your brains will hit the pavement before you can say ‘Avada Kadavra’.”

“Do not speak the death curse in my house!” an outraged Molly Weasley admonished. “I don’t care if you’re the right hand of Merlin himself. No matter what has transpired this evening I will not have such obscenity spoken of in my own home! Now off with both of you! Get!”

Boots stomped their respective opposite ways in stormy forbearance. Arthur sighed as Molly followed him into his study. He wouldn’t rest until he had given her a thorough explanation. Neville sat back down at the kitchen table, snoring within minutes, and head in his arms.

Hermione stood on the landing of the stair before heading back to the nursery and quietly closing the door behind her.