Life Is What You Make of It

Author’s Note: This piece wrote itself, to be frank. It was inspired by a drawing from the Reverse Fic Challenge at Hawthorn & Vine. Thanks to my betas: Ali and L.

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Hermione sighed as she arrived home and made her way to the sitting room.

It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day, seeing her oldest off to Hogwarts. She had done her best to hold back tears of pride as she watched Rose excitedly wave good-bye from the slowly departing Hogwart’s Express. The rush of memories had been overwhelming and she had looked over to Ron and Harry, smiling. Their crooked grins made her feel better.

Kicking off her shoes and removing her outer robes leaving her in a simple Muggle wrap dress, she rolled her shoulders, wearily, and thanked her lucky stars Hugo was spending the day at The Burrow with his father. She appreciated that Ron understood she needed some quiet time to reflect and accept that Rose was gone. A small “pop” caught her attention.

“Missus is home,” a tiny voice squeaked.

Hermione smiled gently at the tiny house elf looking up at her. He was clean and dressed in a handmade silk tunic bearing her husband’s crest, one she hadn’t even been aware he possessed. He’d laughed when she teased him and said all pure-blood families had a coat of arms or crest, even the Weasleys, he’d joked.

“Hello, Bink. Yes, I’m home.”

“Is Mister home, as well?”

Shaking her head, Hermione walked over to the plush sofa in her expansive sitting room. “No, not yet. He’ll be home in a bit, I suspect. He went to lunch. Don’t mention anything to him, Bink, but I believe he was a bit sad as well, today. It’s not easy letting go of your children.”

“Bink says nothing, Missus.” The little elf piped. “Bink gets cocoa, now.”

“No thank you, Bink,” Hermione noted. “May I please have a glass of white elf wine, instead? In fact, bring the bottle and two glasses, then the take the rest of the day for yourself.”

In a flash, Bink popped out of sight only to return quickly with the requested wine and glasses. He placed them on a small table in front of the sofa where Hermione sat. He then bowed and, with a “crack”, disappeared.

Pouring a glass of her favorite wine, Hermione mused at the odd situation in life where she had a house-elf. Initially, she had argued endlessly with her husband but they had, eventually, come to a compromise and agreed, on several conditions, that having house-elves was passably acceptable. Hermione’s conditions included dressing and offering them wages, however, the elves promptly rejected the galleons so she’d had to concede on that demand. Hermione had also, emphatically, insisted that they not have an army of elves serving them. They had agreed Bink would be the one to act as liaison, of sorts, and manage the household affairs and small number of elves, while working closely with Hermione.

Taking a sip of her wine and removing the pins holding her hair, she closed her eyes and thought of her husband. She was emotional and bit tense, the wine tingled throughout her body making her feel the first stirrings of desire. When would he be home, she wondered?

Holding her glass in her left hand, she trailed her right hand down her body imagining it was a strong male hand touching her. Hermione adjusted her body on the sofa so she was lying on the sofa and spread her legs, slightly. Her fingertips danced along the soft fabric of her dress tugging it up slowly.

A deep male voice roused her from her delicate explorations. “Well, what do we have here?”

Her breath caught as her eyes flew open and she drank her in her husband, who stood at the doorway gazing at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. She bit her lip as she contemplated how delicious he looked. “You’re home.”

He nodded, “I’m home. What were you doing, naughty girl?”

“Nothing, love. I assumed you’d be home later, weren’t you having lunch with . . .”

He cut her off, “We had tea instead, I wanted to come home to you.” He began walking toward her, removing his robes and revealing black Muggle slacks and turtleneck. In one smooth motion, he pulled off the turtleneck and he knelt by her side at the sofa. “Don’t let me interrupt what you were doing. Please continue.”

Shyness suddenly overtook Hermione and she shook her head. He quirked an eyebrow up in surprise at her response. “Hermione, perhaps you didn’t understand. Continue with what you were doing, now.” Taking her hand, he placed it on her, now exposed, thigh. “Do it.”

He sat back on his haunches and leaned back to pour himself a glass of wine. Hermione’s heart was beating wildly and she could feel her pussy becoming moister with each of his commands. She slowly brought her glass to her lips and finished the rest of it in one long drink and passed him her glass. He placed it on the table behind him and took a sip of his own wine, watching her with a ferocity that never failed to make her body shiver.

She let her both her hands tug up her dress revealing a pair of delicate French lace knickers that hid a surprise. With her left hand she revealed a small slit in the fabric, while she thrust the fingers of her other hand into her knickers.

“Crotch-less knickers? Very nice.” His voice was husky with desire.

She played with her throbbing clit gently and gathered up the juices from her core and swirled them around her lips. Keeping a slow and steady pace, she waited for the next set of instructions from her husband. Moaning and slightly breathless, she never let her gaze waver from his.

“Do you know how beautiful you look, at this very moment? I love you more each day, Hermione.” Downing the rest of his wine quickly, he then got to his knees to unbuckle his slacks and pulled them down, exposing his impressive erection. Elegantly, he removed his clothing, shoes and socks, then stood and edged his body over hers.

“Turn towards me, keep playing with that pussy slowly and open your mouth. Don’t you dare come.”

Hermione complied. Soon, his thick cock was in her mouth and she was sucking him off greedily, and in time with how she was stroking herself. He threw his head back and groaned. “Fuck, that’s it. Suck me. You love my cock, don’t you? You were playing with yourself, knowing I would come home and see you, weren’t you?”

Hermione’s response was to moan, then lick and suck him harder, taking him deeper in her mouth. She felt his hands weave themselves through her hair and he began to thrust gently. All the while she fought to keep the slow and steady pace on her raging clit. She desperately wanted to rub herself faster into a bone-melting orgasm but she knew she couldn’t.

Suddenly, he pulled out. “Get up.”

Hermione took deep, ragged breaths, her mind still lingering in a fog of lust. His command and voice sliced through. “Get. Up. Now.”

Gathering her wits, she rose. He took hold of her right wrist and brought up her wet fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Delicious. Now, I’m going to sit down and you’re going to undress for me.”

Shifting his body behind her, he sank slowly onto the sofa with his legs splayed wide and his cock jutting proudly from his legs. Hermione turned to face him and, with trembling fingers, untied her wrap-dress. Underneath she wore a sheer, black lace bra that matched the knickers. The bra had delicate silk straps decorated with silk rosettes. It curved around her breasts and displayed another surprise.

Eyes wide, her husband inquired, “You were wearing that, today?”

She nodded, demurely.

With a single hand gesture, he beckoned her to him and grabbed her hips making her straddle his body. His hands touched the lace and made their way to the centers of her breasts where her nipples lay bare to the air through two little holes. The peaks were already stiff with desire and she nudged them towards his descending mouth.

He laved and licked one while tweaking the other. He then shifted to suck the other.

Hermione threw her head back and rolled her hips against him. “Oh, gods…yes, please.”

“Please, what?”

His hand dove into her hair and tugged her head down to his lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth. His kiss was harsh, deep, dominant and possessive. Pulling away, he looked at her. “Sit up a bit. I’m going to fuck you through those little crotch-less knickers.”

Hermione sat up as he aligned himself. Pushing on her hips, he forced her down onto him and she felt him stretch her wide. They both groaned in satisfaction.

“Move Hermione. Fuck me, now. Lose yourself, love.”

And she did. She went wild bouncing on him, wiggling and moving her body in a way that hit deep inside her pussy. It was as if she was engulfed in flames, everywhere was hot and his cock was searing her core. It felt so divine.

All the while, her husband whispered dirty words into her ear and spanked her ass in time with her pounding onto his cock. The pain from his hand combined with the pleasure of her thrusts pushed her towards a slow build. She could feel the sensations overtake her feet and travel up her legs. It reached her back and tingled over her arms, breasts and nipples. It made her lose control until all she felt was the sting on her bottom and the thickness of his manhood.

Overwhelmed, she exploded and shattered, yelling out her release. Slowing down, she became aware of her skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat but before anything else could register, she was thrown on her back and he had already breached her again. He was pounding her savagely but she loved it.

She encouraged him with her cries and spread her legs wider. Eventually, he grunted out his release and slumped onto her body. They lay that way, not moving.

Hermione felt his large hands caress her skin and she palmed his back with both hands. “Thank you. I needed that.”

He pushed himself up and looked down at her. “I could tell you were upset today, darling. It’s all right. Rose will be fine.”

She smiled at him, her heart filling with love. “I know.” She touched his face, tenderly. “So will Scorpius.”

Draco Malfoy softened his gaze.

Hermione Malfoy’s eyes were full of love as she looked deeply into his eyes. He often said she understood him like no one else. After five years of marriage, they were happier than ever. They had fallen in love while working together at the Ministry but fought their attraction for years, not wanting to hurt their respective spouses. They had struggled to maintain a friendship but it was fraught with sexual tension and it often dissolved into heated arguments that left each frustrated.

Eventually, both their marriages naturally failed, it was only a matter of time. Astoria had begun an affair, feeling neglected by Draco. He couldn’t blame her and readily gave her the divorce she requested. Meetings were still a bit awkward with Astoria but they remained cordial, for the sake of their son. Astoria lived in Mykonos with her Greek tycoon wizard she’d married six months after divorcing Draco.

Hermione sought to talk with Ron. He knew something was different and that things had shifted in their relationship. He was honest in admitting that he no longer felt the type of love he should have for her, as well. They had agreed to part as friends. They were, after all, still a family and had two beautiful children to consider. While it had been difficult and tense at first, they had both been true to their word and enjoyed a new level of friendship. Ron was, now, newly engaged to Pansy Nott, nee Parkinson, who had been widowed for more than two years.

Their children, Scorpius, Rose and Hugo, reaped the rewards. Scorpius lived with his father throughout the year but spent summers with his mother. Hermione and Ron shared custody, but the children lived, primarily, with Hermione as Ron, an Auror, was often on assignment.

Draco and Hermione had worried about all the children living together but they were young enough to weather the transition. Their parent’s willingness to work through the emotional dissolution of their prospective marriages had been helpful.

Draco hugged Hermione and Apparated them to their bedroom for an afternoon lie-in. As she lay in the comfort and safety of his arms she mused on how her life had taken a path of its own. She had thought she knew exactly where everything would lay out and had planned out details under certain assumptions. Had she kept her mind closed and shuttered, she would never have given the blond prat a chance, and she wouldn’t know the deep love and happiness she felt. Four people would continue living lives expected of them, never truly knowing or understanding genuine and deep love. She knew Astoria was happy, even though she remained a bit distant. Ron and Pansy fit like two pieces of a puzzle, yet if Hermione remained with him, he would always feel incomplete.

And she and Draco? Complete opposites with a tumultuous history, would never be together. They could have been staring at each other from across the platform that very morning, acknowledging each other with a polite nod.

Life was a mystery.

Life was a journey.

Life changed.

Life moved on.

Life, she finally realized, was what you made of it. And she had made a magnificent one.

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