A Dragon's Love

Helena was still below the blessedly warm sheets, lying on her bed in a fetal position. She shivered. Why had that man been after her? Memories dashed through her mind. Her past was never far from Helena’s thoughts, and most were bad. They were all full of pain, bloodlust, the longing for retribution flowing through her. She had killed; killed without a hint of mercy, not a particle of grief. Auror training had taught Helena not to feel, not to let emotions take over.

Had that Death Eater wanted something in particular? Was there some unsettled business between the? Funny, Hogwarts had lulled her into a false sense of protection. This event was just a reminder that Helena would never be able to lead a normal life. She closed her eyes, trying to block out all the negativity. If it hadn’t been for Draco…

Bitterness clouded over her. Karma sucked. Of course it was Draco Malfoy that Helena had to be indebted to. The man got past her every defense, managing to say exactly the things that could break down all the barriers she put up. Helena found she detested him, even after a single meeting. Nonetheless, the man had saved her. He deserved a thank you face-to-face, and if there was anything the former Ravenclaw wasn’t, it was a coward. She never shirked her duties, even if the thought of thanking the smug, silver eyed bastard caused bile to rise in her throat.


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Pansy Parkinson knew she was beautiful. Her glamorous blonde hair was cut in an expensive style, falling luxuriantly over her left breast. Dressed in a clinging, revealing dress of blood-red crimson, with heels and lips the same color, she was obviously in seduction mode, and the object of her seduction was none other than Draco Malfoy.

At the moment, she was sitting in Draco’s private chambers, with a permanently alluring smile attached to her carefully made-up face. He was pouring out two glasses of Madeira, and turned around to offer her one. Pansy took it, looking up at Draco under her heavily mascara-ed eyes. He was as handsome at thirty as he had been at seventeen, if not more.

“May I ask why you are here?” Draco asked, rubbing his temples.

“I heard about the Death Eater attack, and was absolutely DEVASTATED. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” Pansy affected a worried tone to her cooing voice. Her high pitched voice made the migraine building in his head increase a thousand fold, and Draco wished he could perform a silencing charm on her. Still, he had the Malfoy dignity to keep up, so he gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“I am fine. Shouldn’t you be at home, Pansy?”

“I’ve missed you,” she said huskily. Getting up from the chair, Pansy slithered up to him, her cold hands running down his chest. Her lips brushed over a beard-stubbled cheek.

Try as he might to resist, Draco was a man. He had a man’s urges, a man’s desires, and he hadn’t had sex for quite a while. When Pansy’s full red mouth pressed against his, Draco responded, his eyes shutting, a moan filtering through his lips. He felt his penis jerk against Pansy’s lush curves, and thought, *I’m going to fuck her tonight.*

“I need you so much, Drakey,” she moaned. Her voice grated against him, his lust cooling a bit, but Draco needed a woman tonight. Roughly, he pressed her against his desk, grinding his hips into her.

The door opened, but neither heard it, too busy exchanging kisses. A gasp alerted Draco that they weren’t alone, and he froze, letting go of Pansy, who made a sound of protest. Turning around, he saw Helena Simmons, blue eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, a faint blush across her cheeks.

“Um… I was going to… but you’re busy so… I…” she turned away, horribly embarrassed. It was obvious he had been in the middle of… something.

“No,” Draco said, grabbing her arm. “Wait a minute.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just talk to you in the morning,” Helena replied hastily, attempting to pull her wrist from his warm grasp.

The woman with long blonde hair pouted. “Drakey, tell her to come back later!” she whined. Helena caught his wince, and a martyred look cross his face.

“Pansy, let’s conclude our … business at a later time. I’ll contact you later.” Pansy’s face was sulky, but Draco’s face was clear enough that he wouldn’t abide any arguments. Instead, she got up, heaving her large breasts out, and left, but only after she’d given Draco a blazing kiss right in front of that snippy little thing in teaching robes.

After Pansy had left, Draco quite calmly gestured towards a seat in his private chambers. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

“No that’s okay.” Helena didn’t sit, preferring to keep the conversation as short as possible.

“All right then,” Draco replied agreeably, his eyes resting on her face. “What is it you wanted to see me about at this hour?” There was just a hint of mockery in his voice. She stared at his face, which was covered with red mouth imprints. Strangely, jealousy burned through her as Helena noted each sign of lust-filled kissing, from the marks to his swollen mouth. Draco raised a silvery-blond eyebrow at her searching gaze.

“I just wanted to say… thank you for this morning,” Helena said stiffly.
“You’re welcome.” He looked slightly bored. “Is that all?”

“No… I just…” Helena coughed. “I want to keep our relationship civil. So… let’s let bygones be bygones. I don’t want to fight with you.” It had taken a lot to say that, but it was the truth. She waited, tense, for his reaction.

Draco looked at the petite witch, amazed. She wanted to call a truce, despite all the things he had said to her. Something like guilt lurched inside him, but pride wouldn’t allow him to apologize. Instead, he extended a hand towards her.

“Deal.”

Hesitantly, Helena extended her hand as well, and their hands met. Something like fireworks crackled between them, causing Draco to tauten in surprise. Her hand was small, soft, and warm. It was like a great deal of hands that he had touched, nothing special. Yet he didn’t want to let it go.

A smile blossomed on the woman’s face, brightening the gloomy chamber with it’s light. His breath caught in his chest. Flora’s smile had been just as effective, making life seem utterly glorious. “Deal.”

Then, spontaneously, Helena reached up, and kissed Draco lightly on his left cheek. It barely touched him, yet electricity pumped through him. “Good night, Professor Malfoy.”

“Call me Draco,” he heard himself say.

“Draco,” Helena whispered, closing the door behind her.