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Accidental Magic

By: margaritama
folder Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating: Adult +
Chapters: 7
Views: 25,027
Reviews: 136
Recommended: 2
Currently Reading: 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Chapter 6 - A Maelstrom

Thanks again to everyone for your support and reviews. I’m so happy you are enjoying this little story. I do so like to write from a more comedic perspective and it seems you like it as well. Thank you to everyone who noted that I tried to do my best to keep the character canon – that is so important to me. I can’t tell you how much it means that you feel that I’ve succeeded in doing that.



Now, I wonder what happens next? Hmmmm *taps chin*



PS: thanks to my lovely beta, again, all mistakes are mine!



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If she didn’t know better, Hermione would swear that her husband was attempting to . . . she swallowed in distaste . . . woo her.



Flowers, books and other presents would be waiting in the corridors outside her newly repaired bedroom, daily. Confused, she would thank him coolly at breakfast and go about her day only to find him waiting for her in the library every bloody evening. He claimed he wanted to merely . . . she shuddered . . . talk.



It completely unnerved her. She continued to work even later hours, completely forgetting her conversation with her woo-determined husband.



Draco, naturally, knew exactly what he was doing. What he should just done from the start – soften up the little witch to make her his. Swallowing in distaste, he realized along the way that he . . . dear Merlin . . . l-l-liked her.



She was quite pretty – beautiful, even, when she was burning in anger. The more he watched her, the more he allowed his long buried longing for the temperamental slip of a witch to surface. Oh, he truly, madly, deeply despised when his mother was right! More so as of late, when his damn wife was not keeping up her end of the bargain, yet he was trying to be a gentleman.



It would be nice if she reciprocated by actually being home and making an attempt to talk to him. Didn’t the little she-demon realize that he was being . . . oh, fuck him . . . nice? He sent presents, left notes, made conversation, was polite when he saw her, stopped making rude comments, not yelled and had controlled his temper. And what had she done? Spoken to him in clipped tones, acted even more distant, barely acknowledged him and continued to keep late hours at the office.



He’d reached the end of his tether after a month and half of their ‘truce’. She was going to deal with him, whether she wanted too or not! As was his norm, he waited for her in the library, rising as she came through the Floo after yet another late-night working session.



Draco was quite angry by this point. “It’s about bloody time.” He towered over her, threateningly.



Hermione looked up into the furious face of Draco Malfoy. “Pardon?”



“Are you shagging Davis?” Draco took a step forward.



Hermione tip-toed back. “How dare you? I’m doing no such thing!”



“Why else would you be working late every sodding night?” His fists clenched in frustration.



Her hands itched from the need to slap him again. “Because I’m working! You should try it sometime, you salacious sluggard.”



“I do work, you shrieking Hydra. I just work normal hours, unlike you. Why can’t you ever be home early?” Feeling as if he was going to go completely barking, he took a deep breath.



“Why would I do that?” Hermione place one hand on her hip and glared.



Draco was going to strangle her, he was sure of it. “Because you promised to try; you infuriating, insane Harpy!” Shite, he was yelling.



Fuck it – they needed to suss this out.



“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, you man-whore.” A tiny finger poked him in the chest.



Draco raised a white-knuckled, closed hand to his mouth, and then pointed a finger at the heart-shaped face looking at him in fury. “MAN-WHORE? Listen here, shrew; I haven’t fucked a woman since our signatures were matched. I’d like to fuck you but you’re nothing but a closed-legged, little puritan who probably couldn’t please a man.”



Neither noticed the flames in the hearth activate and leap.



She smiled cruelly. “Did you think I played the virginal wife this entire time?”



Draco stalked her. “That had better not mean what I think it does, Hermione.”



Floorboards rattled. Walls bowed. Moldings popped.



“You married me by proxy, since you weren’t here for our wedding night . . . well, a girl has needs . . .”



An invisible wind whistled low in the enclosed room.



Low, dark and deadly, he whispered, “Witch, do not fucking toy with me!”



“Why not? You toyed with me!” she hissed in response.



He had backed her towards the settee and gripped her arms; her fury rivaling his own. By now, the library walls were rattling, furniture was levitating and books were whirling about the room.



His head bent low, lips hovering over hers. “Stop the games. Stop fighting me. Stop fighting us. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m just sorry!” Shaking her gently, Draco realized that he actually meant the words.



Time seemed to stop. Draco stared at her with heartfelt longing. Hermione gazed back in honest fear.



Blinking back sudden tears, Hermione continued to look up at her husband, whispering, “I’m afraid.”



Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding; Draco nodded in understanding. “So am I.”



Then he kissed her.



Suddenly, his hands, lips and tongue were dancing everywhere over her skin. She could feel her body melting under his expert ministrations. He was rough, yet tender; dominating, yet playful. She wanted to touch his hard, muscled body and slide her palms over his skin. To feel what she did to him. He kissed his way down her neck and she could only tilt back allowing him better access.



Damn, but this woman was divine. Her skin was soft and she was so genuine in her responses that it only urged his need for her further. Anywhere he touched he could feel her shiver in delight, moan in passion or whimper in want. Coupled with his long-term celibacy, it had him on edge. He needed to take his time and not overwhelm her with his desire to just thrust into her. No, it took all his will to caress and lick her sweet body until she was hot and wet for him.



Neither noticed the contents of the room rise up in a maelstrom surrounding them as they tumbled onto the settee. Neither noticed the bubble of magic encasing them as they tore each other’s clothes off in a desperate frenzy. Neither noticed the waves of magic emanating from their intertwined figures as they bit, sucked, tasted and explored naked, delicious skin. Neither noticed the sudden stillness and whoosh of silence as Draco plunged his cock into a very virginal, willing Hermione.



By the time he had kissed away the tears, offered soothing words to relax her; there was a warm, golden glow pulsing around their joined forms. Shallow, gentle thrusts gave way to a powerful, faster rhythm. Beads of perspiration trailed down their bodies. Soft caresses, interweaving of fingers and words such as “mine” and “finally” lost in between grunts of “yes” and moans of “oh”, solidified invisible threads forever weaving the couple together.



Heavy panting and calling out of names carried on their breath; culminating in a brilliant explosion of mutual bliss and true, tangible magic as old as time.



Resting in each other’s arms, the new lovers fell into soothing, dreamless slumber.
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