Fate

Fate

Fate rules the affairs of mankind with no recognizable order.
Seneca (5 BC - 65 AD)


Hermione slipped quietly into her small flat, not bothering with the lights and made straight for the bathroom. She turned the water on; shrugged out of the clothes she was wearing and stepped into the shower. She took the soap from the dish and started to scrub her hands trying not to notice as the water turned muddy from the blood. She kept scrubbing them even after they were well and truly clean before finally dropping the soap and leaning her hands and head against the cool tiles and allowing the tears she’d been fighting to overtake her. If there was one thing Hermione Granger knew about herself now, is was that she hated war. She wished she could just run; get away from all the fighting.

Eventually her tears ran their course and she turned the water off and took her towel from the rail. She wrapped it around herself and then ran a hand over the clouded mirror. He darkened reflection stared back at her. It had been over two years now and Harry was no closer to finding the final horcruxes, Voldemort was conducting almost daily attacks on Muggle-borns and The Order of Phoenix had lost another member tonight. Hermione still remembered feeling the warmth leave the body of her friend and colleague while she held them. She shivered and turned away from the mirror. She made her way quietly into the bedroom and pulled on her pyjamas, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

She moved into the main room and went straight for the cabinet near the dining table, pulling out a glass and a bottle of fire whiskey, flipping the cap off and pouring a good amount of the amber liquid into the glass. Before she could take a sip however she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and knew that someone else was in the room with her. She froze; the glass held to her lips and strained her eyes to hear.

“Granger,” his voice was hoarse and quiet but she knew it well. She allowed herself to relax a bit, taking the sip and then turning to face her unexpected guest, “Can I have one of those?” She leaned over and took another glass from the shelf and handed it to him as he came out of hiding and stood before her.

Draco took the glass from her without saying another word. She had changed so much. That youthful innocence that used to be in her eyes was long gone and she had a very different demeanour to the one he remembered. She was no longer the girl he’d known; now she was the seasoned fighter and a part of him wished that she hadn’t had to go through the things she had seen. He longed to see that light, the spark of brightness that had made her stand out amongst all the other girls at Hogwarts. Now, while still beautiful, it was more hauntingly, like she had seen too much, like she was damaged. He supposed it was hardly surprising, considering everything she’d been through. He watched her as she took the bottle and poured the whisky into his glass. That was another thing, Hermione Granger drinking whiskey. When had that started? He didn’t take her eyes from hers while he drank. She was standing so close that even in the darkened room he could see the tiny lines of worry and stress around her eyes. Her proximity was just as intoxicating as the drink he was sipping and he felt his body start to react to her presence. She took a drink, her eyes never leaving his.

Hermione was staring at him. She should be feeling fear but instead her mind kept replaying their last encounter. Draco Malfoy had been the man she’d given her virginity to, just over two years ago. He was taller than she remembered and the scared boy she knew once was long gone. If possible the years had made him even better looking and she felt pressure start to build in her body.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” she asked finally sliding into a chair at the table and inviting him to do the same.

He sat and stared at the liquid in his glass, “I don’t know,” he replied shrugging shoulders and glancing over at her. She didn’t know what to say, so she followed his example and didn’t say anything. Soon enough their glasses were empty and he reached over and grabbed the bottle, refilling both glasses. She smiled at him softly.

“Thanks.”

“I saw you out there today,” he said. She looked up at him with shock.

“How?” she said raising one eyebrow.

“I think he thought that it would break me,” Draco said quietly.

“You were there today? What did you see?” she asked her voice full of concern. She hoped to God that he hadn’t seen the body.

“Everything, including how you stayed with her,” he said his eyes filling with tears. She was out of her seat and enveloping him in a hug before the first one fell. She held him while the sorrow took him over. She had no idea that while she held Narcissa’s body earlier that Draco had been watching.

“Oh, Malfoy, I’m so sorry,” she said. He half sobbed, half chuckled.

“He’s spent the better half of the last two years trying to punish me for failing to kill Dumbledore. When he got the news that Mother was leaking information to your side, he flew into a rage. He knew she’d be with you tonight, that’s why he attacked. That’s why he finally released me from the prison I’ve been in.”

“You’ve been incarcerated this whole time?” she asked shocked. She’d had no idea. He nodded slowly.

“I managed to hide after the attack. They didn’t look for me, they just left,” he said.

“Well, you can stay here tonight and tomorrow I’ll talk to the Order. If you tell them what you’ve been through, I’m sure they’ll allow you refuge,” she said. He snorted in disbelief, “Really, Draco, it’s been two years. Please allow that time and fighting a war has changed them both a great deal. They’ll show you kindness.” He turned to look at her with a look of confusion on his face.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you mean what?” She tilted her head.

“What did you call me?”

“Malfoy?” She shrugged her shoulders.

“No, you didn’t. You called me Draco,” he said.

“So? That’s your name isn’t it?” she said letting her arms drop away from him.

“You’ve never called me that,” he said, “Not even when we…”

She stood suddenly and turned her back to him. She couldn’t remember when she’d stop thinking of him as Malfoy. She knew that late at night, when she knew that no-one was around she sometimes touched herself and that name, Draco, was always the name on her lips at her moment of release.

“You think about me, don’t you?” he asked rising from his chair. She didn’t answer him, nor did she turn around, even when she could feel him standing right behind her. She felt the hair on her neck prickle again with his proximity. She could smell him, that same musky scent from that night in Godric’s Hollow. She was nearly twenty years old and the only man to have touched her in that way was now standing right behind her. She felt the burning sensation between her legs and longed for him to ease it again, like he had that night.

“Malfoy,” she said in almost a whisper as she leaned back into him, pressing her hips back into his groin.

“Granger,” he muttered and closed his arms around her. She gasped at the contact and closed her eyes, leaning her head back onto his shoulder. She felt one of his hands reach up and pull her hair away from her neck and then his hot breath caressed the skin there. She let out the tiniest of moans at the sensation and then felt his lips against her neck. She gave an involuntary shiver and raised one arm to close around his neck, bringing him into more contact with her skin. She felt his arms close around her waist again and slide beneath the fabric of her t-shirt, gently caressing the soft flesh of her stomach. She closed her eyes and moaned again.

Draco could hardly believe it. When he’d followed her home tonight, it had been just to thank her for showing kindness to his mother in her final moments, yet here she was practically writhing in his arms. He hadn’t dared hope after all this time that she would still remember that brief tryst before he handed himself over to the Dark Lord, let alone be harbouring any feelings towards him. The thought of her warm touch and loving embrace had been the only thing that had kept him going all this time. He could feel her body trembling in his arms and she was pressing her bottom back against his erection. He slid his hands up and cupped her breasts. She groaned out loud when he massaged them and he could feel her rubbing her thighs together. He left his left hand cupping her breast and slowly slid the other down her body and along the waist band of her shorts. She sighed with anticipation and encouraged, he slid his hand inside her shorts to caress the sensitive skin encased within. She cried out in abandon and he immediately realized that no-one had touched her since him.

“Are those idiots she fights with completely blind or just insane?” he wondered. Those morons had this wonderful, sexy creature with them and not a one had tried to seduce her, “Why she’s practically ripe for the picking?” It didn’t take much for her to be bucking frantically against his hand as an orgasm took over her body. When she had come down he spun her and pressed her flush against him, dipping his tongue into her mouth urgently. She responded eagerly with a slight growl in the back of her throat. He found the noise completely erotic and lifting her by her buttocks spun her around and leaned her against the table, pushing her back and climbing up so he was over her body, never breaking the contact between their mouths.

Hermione’s mind was completely in turmoil. She knew she shouldn’t be giving into to temptation with him on the night where he’d just witnessed his mother dying, but he seemed to know exactly how to touch her to light her body on fire and it had been such a long time since she’d felt desirable in any way. She felt his lips trail along her jaw and down her ear to the crook of her neck, before her shirt was roughly lifted over her body and yanked over her head. Then she felt her nipples being captured one at a time by the warmth of his mouth and tongue. She could vaguely hear somebody crying out and somewhere in her mind was shocked to realize it was her. Then she felt his thigh pressing against her core and the feeling was almost satisfying so she pushed herself into it, seeking release.

“Soon, Granger,” she heard him whisper. Then she felt the cool night air touching her bare body and realised that he had slipped her short of her body and spread her legs wide. She opened her eyes to look at him, finding him perch between her legs looking at her in the moonlight in wonder and fascination. He looked like a predator in that moment, wondering how best to devour his prey.

Draco was etching the image of her into his memory. Their last encounter had been slightly rushed and he hadn’t had much to remember. The image of this woman lying completely naked and open to him made his cock twitch painfully and he yanked his own shirt off, whilst sliding off the table. He unbuckled his pants and she watched him, hunger and passion in her eyes. Once he had discarded his clothing he climbed back onto the table between her legs and blew gently on her swollen moistness. She shivered but didn’t break their eye contact. He smirked at her before slowly extending his tongue and licking her from where he body touched the table to that sensitive button at the top of her privates. She cried out, her back arching, throwing her head back and he swirled his tongue around that nub and slid a finger inside her passage. As he started to pump the digit in and out of her passage she began bucking so much he had to use his other hand to keep her still enough for him to concentrate on her properly. He added another digit and sucked her clit into his mouth, grating his teeth against it gently before flicking it with his tongue. Once again, it didn’t take much for her body to respond to him and she was soon shuddering as another orgasm wracked her body.

When she began to come down, she realized that he was propped up over her, just waiting. She remembered the last time they were together, he hadn’t a wand so had borrowed hers for a contraceptive charm, so she motioned to where she’d left her want, on the cabinet where she’d pulled the fire whiskey. He followed her outstretched hand and spied the piece of wood. He reached over for it and whispered his spell.

“You haven’t been with anyone else since me, have you Granger?” he asked. She shook her head, feeling the blush rise up her cheeks at her admission.

“Good, I like knowing that you are mine,” he said before kissing her passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck and the pushed himself into her. He captured her cry of pleasure in his mouth and felt her legs rise and wrapped around his waist. He started to push himself slowing in and out of her, never letting her lips leave his, engaging her tongue with his own. He ran his hands down her sides and felt her hands move to his shoulders. He had to fight the urge to pound her hard and fast, wanting instead to bring her pleasure a few more times before he let himself truly have her.

The pace was driving Hermione half way out of her mind. It felt fantastic but she wanted more. She tried planting her heels back on the table and lifting her pelvis to meet his gentle thrusts and soon felt the pressure reach its crescendo exploding in her core again. When she finally recovered her breath, she was surprised to realize that Draco had stopped moving and instead was watching her intently, a completely new look on his face.

“What? Why’d you stop?” she asked hoarsely. He grinned and leant back on his heels, pulling her up with him before shifting his weight until she was astride him. She marvelled that he’d managed the position changed without breaking the intimate contact between their bodies, “What are you doing?”

“You want to be in control so much, so go for it,” he said folding both his hands behind his head. She looked down at him confused for a moment before he gave a gently up thrust with his pelvis and she smiled. She rocked forward and back experimentally a few times before grinning and nodding her head delightedly. She gripped him by the waist and raised and lowered herself onto his shaft, groaning as she did so. Draco too moaned at the sensation and she leaned forward on to her elbows, dangling her breasts in his face as she began to ride him. He watched those delicious mammaries swinging back and forward as he little lioness got herself off on his rigid member. When she came she leaned backward, her back arched and head thrown back practically screaming out his name. Not Malfoy either, she was calling out Draco. He couldn’t take anymore and grabbed her around the waist, moving very quickly until she was on her knees before him, her pert bottom in the air and he was plunging deep into her. She was crying out in abandon now and he was grunting with the need to fill her with his seed. He felt the need to come deep in his stomach and mentally willed her to hurry up and come again. Then it was too late and he felt himself come, whilst bucking sporadically into her. Thankfully she threw her head back and came one last time collapsing forward. He was still holding her hips whilst he drained himself of every last drop. Then he toppled down beside her.

Hermione felt Draco’s arms close around her and haul her into his arms. He carried her bride style into her bedroom and placed her on the bed.

“Draco,” she murmured sleep threatening to take over her.

“Hmm,” he replied.

“Stay with me. Don’t leave,” she said. He climbed up next to her and held her body against his.

“I promise, I won’t go anywhere,” he said kissing her cheek. He stayed awake long enough to hear her breathing deepen and then followed her into slumber.


*~*~* The End *~*~*