Falling to pieces

It's been two months since I left. I had my period of remorse and regret, but it passed. I knew that I made the right decision for myself, my sanity. I knew Ron would move on. I know he loved me, but not the way either of us expected. I think we put such an expectation on our relationship after everything we had been through. Neither of us could live up to it.

I inwardly compared him to Draco, every chance I had. He never compared, not even slightly, to the man I truly loved. I had changed too much for him. I was not the Hermione he had fallen in love with at Hogwarts. I had hardened and shut down. I was bitter at times and took it out on him. He was always sweet to me, but I could see it in his eyes, he saw me differently. I hoped he would move on quick. Not dwell, not search for me. If he really wanted to he would know where to look. But being Ron, I knew he never paid enough attention to what I said, and would not know.

I have adjusted to my new life here. I have found a job in a small book store. My knowledge impressed the owner greatly and he hired me on the spot. I have found a nice little studio flat to call home. I slowly furnished it with furniture and décor, but it still feels empty. Harry had set up a muggle bank account in my name after the war. Said he wanted to thank me for always being there for him. He wanted to me to keep the money for University one day. He wanted me to be able to continue my schooling, the muggle way, as I had once told him I wanted.

I never went to University though. The money sat there, almost forgotten. Ron had never known, as was Harry's wish. It came in handy after leaving. I was able to transfer the money to another account here and was able to get myself set up before I found my job. I know if Harry wanted to he could track the transfer and find me, but knowing Harry he would leave me alone. We always had an understanding when one of us needed something.

I'm standing in the bookstore, alone. I'm the only one here today. Not much activity in the afternoons. I stare at the pile of books needing to go back on the shelves. I sigh and grab them. I wander the racks finding their homes. One title catches my eye, David Copperfield. I lay the other books on table to my right. I strum the pages with my thumb. The smell emitted from the movement makes me close my eyes. It even smells the same. I brought back six years........

**


“Draco stop.” I moved his head from the crook of my neck. He laughed and moved it back. He nibbled on the skin just under my ear, making my neck cringe in pleasure. “I'm trying to read.” I yelled again. He grabbed my chair and spun it around on one leg, making me scream in surprise. He bent down and snatched the book from my hand.

“David Copperfield? Isn't he some muggle 'magician' from America? Why do you want to read about his fake shit?” Draco teased me. I tried to grab the book back but he held it out my reach, a smile on his face.

“It's not about him. It's a novel, by Dickens. It's a good book. I was just getting to the part where him and Agnes finally get together.” I whined in frustration. He shook his head.

“You've read this before. That means it goes away, and you pay attention to me.” He teased, tossing the book behind his head.

“You lost my spot!” I stood up and slapped his arm playfully. He grabbed my wrist as my arm fell away and pulled me to him. He was inches from me, I could feel his breath on my lips. He kicked the chair away, knocking it to the ground. I turned to watch it fall and he backed me up until my bum hit the desks edge.

“I don't care.” He whispered against my lips. He reached down and grabbed the back of my thighs, lifting me onto the desk. I leaned back onto my hands, giving him a smug look of resistance. This gave him the perfect view of chest. He looked down briefly, taking in the peak of my cleavage he got through the low neck of my shirt. He grabbed my thighs and pulled me flush against him.

He was already rock hard, I could feel it on push into my lower half. I instantly soaked myself. But I wasn't giving in, I wasn't showing him. I wanted to make him work for it. He leaned in to kiss me and I turned away. He moved to kiss my neck. He bit, sucked and nibbled his way all over. I stifled a few moans, not wanting to show him I enjoyed it. When he reached the neck of my shirt he dove his tongue between my breasts, and ran it all the way up to my ear.

“Keep up the act. I know you like it. I'm going to have you begging me.” He whispered in my ear, making me soak my knickers even more. When he pulled away I looked at him. Confidence covered his expression. I smiled and faked a yawn, as if bored. He chuckled and stood up. He lifted his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. His chiseled body always did a number on me and he knew it. I raked my eyes up and down, and then looked in his eyes. I didn't change my expression in any way. I wasn't giving in.

He ran his hands tantalizingly slow up thighs. He found the edge of my shirt and lifted it over my head and it joined his. He ran his hands up my sides roughly, pulling my chest to him. He bit down hard on my nipple. Even through the fabric of my bra the feeling was intoxicating. I fought the urge to throw my back and sigh in satisfaction. I watched him as he did the same to the other. I felt his expert hand come up behind me and unclasp my bra. He forced me out of it. I fell back onto my hands again, helpless to watching him continue.

His expert tongue did wonderful things to my nipples, and I was finding it harder by the second to fight it. He kissed his way down my stomach to the waist band of my jeans. He looked up at me and held my gaze. He was waiting for me to respond, but I held my ground. He smirked as he unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs. I heard them fall to the floor as he knelt onto his knees. He looked to my knickers and smiled widely.

“Jesus, Hermione. You are soaked. All for me. Just my touch makes you wet, doesn't it.” He reached up and ran his finger down my folds. It was becoming harder for me to stay composed. The mixture of his touch and talking dirty, was slowing doing me in. I continued to stare, expressionless. He grabbed the sides of my knickers and pulled them down to my ankles. I wiggled them off, hating it instantly. I had shown a second of weakness.

He kissed my ankle and ran his tongue up my calf. He kissed my knee and bit his way up my thigh. When he got to my folds, his hot breath drove me to the edge. My head fell back as I knew what was coming. I remained silent. His tongue dove in, licking the entire length of me. He stopped at my clit and sucked it into his mouth. I grabbed the edge of the table for stability. I didn't know how long I could resist, but I was determined. His assault was unrelenting. He licked, sucked and nibbled me into bliss. My breathing had increased, but I still remained silent, biting my bottom lip for strength. I could feel the explosion building in my stomach, I tried to hold it back. He was too good.

My orgasm hit me hard and fast. I gripped the table so hard I thought it would break. I don't know how but I remained silent as I rode it out. Not one moan or sigh or whimper had escaped my lips. He gripped my hips hard and he lapped up all the juices. He stood, wiping his face with his hand. He looked down at me, waiting. I stood my ground, through panting breaths. I could see the frustration on his face, and then a smirk cleared it away.

He unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his huge erection. I watched as he rubbed it for a few moments. I wished inwardly it was my hand doing it. Oh how I loved touching him. He took a step back and I was confused. He reached out and grabbed my thighs and pulled me from table. I stood for a second, and was about to ask what the hell he was doing. He spun me around and bent me over the desk hard.

My breasts slammed onto the cold wood and made me gasp. I was instantly filled with the excitement of his roughness. For someone who was a complete control freak, being controlled by him in these intimate times was the biggest turn on. I felt some juices spill down my leg. He did not miss this. He wiped them with his hand and when I looked over my shoulder to see why, I saw him using them to coat himself. I looked back to the desk to gain my composure.

He stepped against me, teasing me with his head, rubbing it up and down my folds. He would stop briefly at my entrance but then move away, leaving me disappointed. I knew I couldn't hold on much longer. We had spent the last few days, since our first time, experimenting, learning new things and this was by far my favorite position. He could go so deep, and hit that special spot inside. And I felt more dominated this way, and it made me crazy. Another flick by my entrance and I broke.

“Fuck me already!” I whispered.

“What? I didn't hear you?” He bent over and whispered in my ear. I repeated my whisper, and he leaned back. “I didn't hear you.” He said louder and I knew what he wanted.

“FUCK ME!” I yelled.

He dove into me faster than I knew was possible. All the way, so I could feel his sack slap against my clit. I slammed my forehead on the desk as pleasure washed over me. I ran my hand up and grasped the edge of the desk above my head, anchoring myself to the spot. He began to move, in and out, slamming into to me at the perfect pace. His attack seemed to last forever, and I didn't know I could ever be this wet. I felt the second explosion building inside of me. He felt me clench onto him and knew it was coming. He reached down in front of me and rubbed my clit with his thumb, as he continued to pound into me.

I came, hard. I screamed against the desk. A few more pumps and felt him lean into me. I felt him spasm inside of me as he clamped his mouth onto my shoulder blade. His breath on my back sent chills down my exhausted body. We stood there, leaning into the table for what seemed like an eternity. He finally stood up and pulled out of me. I looked over my shoulder and saw him pull his jeans up and button them. He bent down and picked up my book.

“I told you I would make you beg.” He winked at me and laughed. He threw the book on the desk, next to where I still lay. He smacked my arse and ran out of the room.

“Oh no you don't!” I yelled and pushed my self up from the desk. I ran after him, revenge needing to be paid.

***

I never went back to that book. I was lucky that later that night Draco had gone in to get my clothes as I slept. Erasing the evidence of what had happened. It was our last night together. Our last night as house mates. We had some stolen moments after that, but never the time we wished for. Remus returned the next day and I had to rejoin the boys on the hunt.

I place the book back in it's place, amongst the other Dickens novels in the store. I smile as I walk away to return the rest of the books. Moments like these occur, a small object or a word someone says, will trigger a memory. I welcome them, but they come with pain. The pain of what could have been. I had escaped a lot by coming here. But I couldn't escape everything. I couldn't escape the ghosts. The ghosts of Grimmauld.