Tin Angel

A/N: A hundred plus reviews for the last chapter and three nominations at Dangerous Liaisons!?!?! Damn, do I ever love you guys!!!! This is a short chapter, but I hope you enjoy!!! And please keep up the reviews, I’m in heaven!!!!!!!!!!

Post Hogwarts: A chance encounter with Hermione Granger in a Muggle café leaves Draco Malfoy aching for more. D/Hr with mentions of BW/Hr, H/G, and R/L. Disregards the events of HBP.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would have bought myself a ticket to the Golden Globes to watch Hugh Laurie win for best actor and probably made a fool of myself by drooling all over him. Unfortunately for me, though probably good news for Hugh, JKR owns Harry Potter and I can’t even afford a T.V. to watch the Golden Globes as all my money is being sucked up furthering my education. One day it’ll pay off, and then, Hugh, it’ll all be lovely and fine…



Tin Angel


* * * 6 * * *


The loose curls on the nape of her neck had long since drawn Draco’s attention away from the man playing the Spanish guitar on the tiny stage of the little Muggle jazz club, the somber melody of the flamenco solea fading to the back of his consciousness as reached round the back of her chair to gently wind a honeyed strand of hair round and round on his finger.


He made a game of watching her grow accustomed to him toying with her hair, relaxing into her chair as she lost herself in the music. He would then run the pad of his finger lightly along the sensitive skin at the back of her neck, amused at how she would tense up, her eyes fluttering shut and shivering as his finger skimmed from her hairline to the collar of the airy little dress she wore.


He found her delightful.


And delicious.


At that thought, his finger dipped lower along her neck, tracing the light bruise he’d left there two nights ago. By then, the mark he’d left on her skin the night they’d seen La Traviata had nearly faded away, and he’d taken care to leave another in its stead. Draco liked seeing evidence of his desire for her upon her skin. Although, her friend Lovegood, it seemed, thought it rather too risky.


Hermione had scolded him playfully about it when they met for dinner Monday night. Apparently, Lovegood had intercepted her the moment she’d walked into the Weasel soiree and gaped at the sight of her. She’d immediately dragged a bewildered Hermione to the loo and shown her the dark love-bite Draco had left upon her neck, teasing her about having a wild snog with him in the opera house broom-closet before casting a quick concealment charm over the bruise.


When she’d told him this, he’d fought back a grin, sporting a petulant pout instead and asked her if she was ashamed of him. She’d just smirked and asked if he was really all that keen on having a hoard of drunken Weasleys and Potter out on the streets, eager for his blood. Draco had sobered quickly at that thought. No, he’d rather put off tangling with that Griffyndor lot over his presence in Hermione’s life for as long as possible. Although, he had to admit, Lovegood seemed to be shaping up to be a potentially valuable ally in that regard.


When the guitarist finished up the solea and moved onto a sultry malaguena, Draco leaned in closer to her, breathing in the light scent of lavender soap on her skin and brushing his lips over the little bruise on her neck. She sighed as he scraped his teeth over the spot, murmuring something about Faustus trying to leech immortality with a suckling kiss as well. He snickered and pulled away, picking up his glass of wine from the table to sip at it, not bothering to mask the hunger in his eyes as he watched her.


“Was not Hermione the daughter of Helen of Troy? I thought it at least worth a try, Granger.”


“She was. But I assure you, you won’t find immortality here, much less a trace of Helen of Troy. My parents were thinking more along the lines of Shakespeare. Perdita’s mother.”


“Really? Doesn’t she die in that play? It’s an awfully morbid choice on the part of your parents.” Draco mused.


“Well, they bring her back to life in the end, but yes, she dies horribly,” she agreed, looking thoughtfully at her glass of wine, “It always bothered me as a child. As though there weren’t plenty of perfectly good names in Shakespeare that had happier endings.”


“Yes, but then everyone loves a good tragedy. Perhaps your parents assumed you’d be famous in some regard and wanted to give you a name worthy of an opera.”


She cocked an eyebrow at him and gave a short laugh, “I think that may be pushing it a bit Malfoy,” she said skeptically.


“No, really Granger, they may have had the right idea. Think about it,” he said, moving closer to her, twining his fingers again in the loose curls at the back of her neck, “Once Potty and Weasel find out you’ve been letting me snog you, they’ll both go stark raving, and then those two arses and their band of loyal redheads will corner us in Diagon Alley with various gardening tools and they’ll force you to watch as I’m drawn and quartered. And after they’ve mounted my head on a pike over Gringotts, you’ll be locked away in Griffyndor tower, where you’ll go mad with longing for my rapacious wit and hurl yourself out over the ramparts. It’ll make a spectacular opera one day, mark my words.”


“That actually sounds eerily similar to something Luna said,” she laughed, then sobered and pouted at him, “But why does my opera have to be a tragedy? All the operas about women are always so sad. Most of the men get to live with honorable suffering, or at least go down in a glorious sword fight. The women always die of grief or stab themselves through the heart.”


“Surely there are a few good ones where the women don’t meet horrible ends…” he started, but she cut him off.


“Not really. Think of all the famous ones you know. Violetta, Carmen, Isolde, Aida, Cio-Cio-San, Juliet, Mimi, Gilda… the list goes on and on.”


“What about Brunnhilde? She makes it through Die Walkure.” Draco offered, enjoying the rising color in her cheeks.


“Only to meet a fiery end later in Gotterdammerung.”


“Then it seems the only solution would be to teach you to sing in a high enough pitch to make Potty and Weasel’s heads explode. I’ll even get you a spear and a horned helmet with some long braids attached, and you can trample all over their bodies upon your trusty steed.”


“Well the spear and the helmet are all fine and good, Malfoy, but you are the one with the blond hair. Perhaps you should be the one sporting the long braids and… ” she said slyly, but he silenced her by leaning in to nibble on her pretty bottom lip.


Merlin, but he did like this woman, he thought, struggling to keep the kiss decent enough for the smoky little Muggle club. They’d been out for dinner or drinks nearly every night in the past week, introducing each other to various favorite Muggle bars and cafes. It was easier this way. The could loose themselves in the Muggle world, enjoying each other’s company without having to worry about anyone in the Wizarding world recognizing them and reporting back to the gossip mill.


Aside from the probable violence on the part of her friends should word get out, Draco feared that the idea of a very public relationship would scare her away. He’d cursed himself for letting things get so far in the carriage after the opera, then cursed himself again when she’d blushed furiously when he’d arrived to escort her to dinner Monday night. He had taken extra care this week not to let anything progress past playful teasing and heated snogs in the entryway of her building. It was difficult though. Her kisses were drugging and his mind would go hazy, his traitorous fingers itching to tear at her clothes and get at the bare, feverish skin within.


“We should get going if we want to make it in and out of that Dawntreader bar at a decent hour,” he whispered against her lips, before pulling away and smirking at her, “We wouldn’t want you to oversleep and miss your Bungalow Brunch obligations, now would we?”


“I suppose.” she murmured, gazing intently at his mouth for a moment before shaking herself and reaching for her bag and sweater, “Actually, they’ll be very upset with me if I miss it. Society pages for last weekend come out tomorrow and Fred and George will want as many people around as possible to hear them gloat if their party gets top mentions.”


“Those two have always been shameless attention mongers.” Draco snorted, dropping a few bills on the table for their waitress and offering Hermione his arm, “Though, I’d wager most of our society mavens would sell their firstborn sons to find out how those two get so much coverage.”


“With all the events and openings you attend, I’d think you’d scramble to sign up for that lecture as well.” she said smugly as he led her out into the cool night air.


“Come now, Granger, you know that’s all just publicity for my company. I’d live the life of a shy hermit if Blaise didn’t insist I make appearances… what?” he said, as she threw her head back and laughed.


“Nothing, I just had this wonderful picture of you with dirty, matted hair, grunting around in some dilapidated cabin wearing nothing but a loincloth and raving about Ubermensch.” she hiccupped, merrily.


“Do you often think of me in nothing but a loincloth?” he remarked, turning to give her a mischievous grin when she stopped walking and looked at him strangely. Her eyes flicked down to his groin and the blush that spread across her cheeks made the breath catch in his throat and he felt slightly dizzy as all the blood in his body seemed to rush southwards. With a speed he didn’t know he possessed, he’d tugged her behind the garden wall of one of the little houses that lined the street, pressing her up against the bricks and sweeping his tongue into her mouth.


Her arms slipped around his neck to thread in his hair, and she moaned into his mouth as his hands slid greedily over her body, desperate to feel every inch of flesh on her delicate frame. She was soft and warm under his touch and he couldn’t stop himself from slowly grinding the hard length of his growing erection against her. His hands drifted up to fondle her breasts, delighting at the way she arched into his touch and the feel of the hard little peaks of her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress.


Her hands left his hair to wind round his shoulders as he dipped his head down to the slim line of her neck, laving at the fading mark he’d left there before, intent on deepening its color. He was reveling in the delicious friction of rubbing his trouser-clad arousal against her, when her hands suddenly applied pressure to his shoulders and pushed him away just a bit. He froze, an icy thread of panic slipping down his spine as he watched her shut her eyes and take a deep shuddering breath.


Oh gods, he thought, he’d royally fucked it up now. His mind scrambled to string together an apology for his loss of control, but all coherent thought seeped out of his brain as her eyelids flickered open, her gaze locking with his own. Her eyes were wide and dilated, and she licked her lips slowly before moving her hand from his shoulder to brush first gingerly, then more firmly against the ache in his trousers. He sucked in a breath, his hands moving from her body to rest on the brick wall on either side of her, bracing himself as his knees felt weaken.


Her hand slid to the fastenings of his trousers, pulling them open and tugging them, along with his shorts, just far enough down his narrow hips to expose the turgid length of his straining cock to the cool night air. He bit his lip as she traced one finger from the tip of his erection down to the base of groin and back again, rubbing her thumb in small circles over the sensitive head. She was still looking at him with those large dark eyes and he could swear he saw just a trace of a smirk tug at the corner of her mouth before her slim fingers closed around his shaft and gave a firm upward stroke.


Merlin, this couldn’t be real, he thought, unable to stop himself from moaning and glancing down to watch her hand establish a slow, smooth rhythm up and down his cock.


“Malfoy,” she murmured, and he tore his eyes away from the sight of her hand on his body, fixing instead on the parted lips of her pretty mouth, which she licked again before whispering, “Have you ever heard of Anais Nin?”


What?, his brain screamed, struggling to process her question when he just wanted to sink into the bliss of her hand working at the aching flesh between his legs. “Who?” he managed to stutter.


“Anais Nin.” She repeated in a matter-of-fact tone reminiscent of the bossy schoolgirl of yore, and he could swear he felt his cock twitch in her hand. “She was a writer. Famous mostly for her published diaries, but also because she was one of the first female writers to ever explore the realm of erotica.”


“Oh.” He murmured, one his hands leaving the wall to reach for her body, eager to try to pleasure her as well. She simply shrugged off his touch, grasping him a little more firmly and continuing on her tangent, in a soft breathy voice.


“Anais Nin once said that the body is an instrument.”


“Did she?” he breathed, his voice husky and low.


“Yes. And like an instrument, the body only gives off music when it is used as a body.”


“Merlin, Granger… ”


“Always an orchestra, she said, and just as music traverses walls,” she paused, quickening her movement till she had him panting and thrusting into her hand, “so sensuality traverses the body… ”


He was getting so close, could feel the tension drawing up at the base of his erection.


“…and reaches up to ecstasy.”


“Oh gods, Granger… please… ” he whimpered.


“Malfoy?” she whispered, her wide dark eyes searching his face, long slim fingers gripping him tightly, “Do you like the way I play upon you?”


At her question, all the tension in his body snapped, and he was moaning and coming in her hand, his release scattered over the brick wall and the foliage growing at its base.


When it was over, he leaned his head into the crook of her shoulder, trying to calm his breath and vaguely registering her movements as she carefully tucked him back into his shorts and did up the fastenings of his trousers. She reached up to smooth his hair back away from his face and he bent in to kiss her, trying to convey his regard and affection for her in his gentle movements against her mouth. A few minutes later, as she pulled away and took his hand, Draco found himself unable to stop the childish grin that took over his face as she led him out of the little garden alcove to resume their original path.

* * *


Draco woke the next morning feeling better than he had in years. He arched his body lazily within the warm sheets, stretching the kinks of sleep out of his taut muscles, before relaxing back into them and replaying the events of the night before again and again in his mind. Hermione’s dark eyes and loose curls, the warm touch of her slim fingers where he liked it most. He could stay in bed all day with such thoughts in his mind.


Eventually, he pulled himself out of bed, making a quick trip to the loo before shuffling sleepily in his pajama bottoms towards the kitchen to find some juice. He was yawning and giving his stomach a pleasant scratching, when a snicker snapped his attention to the dark figure draped on a chair of his kitchen table.


“My, my, but aren’t you a vision of loveliness in the morning.” the intruder taunted, his smooth, cool tone, barely concealing the taunt that lay within.


“Sod off, Blaise.” Draco muttered, moving to his cabinet to find a glass.


“And so pleasant.” Blaise mused, cocking an interested eyebrow at him, “Late night?”


“Not really.” Draco replied carefully, filling his glass with juice and moving to sit across the table from Blaise, “And just why, might I ask, do I have the pleasure of you charming company in my kitchen on a Sunday morning. Surely an owl would have sufficed for any important business matters.”


“Of course.” Blaise intoned, the slow smirk that spread across his face making Draco’s stomach feel uneasy. “But I felt a deep seated desire to be here in person this morning.”


“Any particular reason why?” Draco said testily, feeling annoyed that his friend was obviously finding some kind of amusement at his expense.


“Well, it’s a rare opportunity, in my opinion,” he paused, studying Draco’s face and seeming even more amused at the rare flare of Draco’s temper, “I just simply had to be here when you got your morning paper.”


Draco swallowed hard, feeling all the blood drain out of his face as Blaise pushed an open copy of the Sunday Prophet across the kitchen table.


There, at the top of the open page, was a large black and white photograph of himself watching Hermione chatting amiably with Teddy and Jo Nott on the balcony of the Wizarding London Opera house. He stared with horror as the little picture him would very clearly lean into little picture Hermione and press a gentle kiss just below her jaw, before slipping his arm possessively around her waist.


“ ‘Draco Malfoy, head of Malfoy Industries, makes first public appearance with new lady-love, war-heroine Hermione Granger, at Wizarding London Opera.’ ” Blaise read out silkily, his small smirk widening into a devilish grin, “This is brilliant. You couldn’t plan for better publicity than this. Although, you do realize Potter and Weasley will be out for your blood, don’t you?”


Merlin help us, Draco thought, gulping hard. They were both dead.

* * * * *

A/N: All I can say is wow!! The response to my last update was just overwhelming. You are all so wonderful, and I can’t say how much I just love everyone!! Donavon: I promise to keep practicing, and often at that : ) ; NAR: I absolutely agree with you. Does this little bit of conflict help?; Oetbmalfoysmom: how could I say no when you ask so nicely!!


Also, I’ve been nominated in three categories at Dangerous Liaisons!!! Thanks to Lilycat, Nikki and Moonie for nominating me!! I’ll try to post the link in my profile and hopefully you guys will go and cast a ballot for me once voting starts February 13th!!!! I know this chapter is a shorter one, but its necessary to my meager plot as well as good practice for improving my smuttiness skills. I am doing the update list, let me know if you want in. Hope you enjoy and please, please keep reviewing. Your comments, praise, critiques, etc, really really help me out when I’m working through a new chapter!!!!


* The remarks about Faustus and Helen of Troy refer to British playwright, Christopher Marlowe’s The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus.


* The mentions of Hermione and Perdita refer to British playwright, William Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale.


* Violetta Valery is from Verdi’s La Traviata, Carmen is the title character from Bizet’s Carmen, Isolde is from Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde, Aida is the title character from Verdi’s Aida, Cio-Cio-San is from Puccini’s Madama Butterfly, Juliet is from Gounod’s Romeo et Julietta, Mimi is from Puccini’s La Boheme, and Gilda is from Verdi’s Rigoletto.


* Brunnhilde is a character in Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen quartet, which includes the operas Die Walkure
(The Valkyrie) and Gotterdammerung(Twilight of the Gods.)


* I can’t recall where exactly the Anais Nin quote comes from. She is brilliant though. Check out her diaries, particularly Henry and June, or Delta of Venus, which is a collection of her erotica.


* Ubermensch refers to German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche’s book Thus Spoke Zarathustra.