"He'll be here."
"I have no doubt he'll be here, Hermione. I'm saying he's late."
"I know he's late Ronald. He's always late. He's Malfoy for chissake."
Ron Weasley scowled across the table at Hermione Granger, who was now scribbling diligently in her notebook. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix regarded the two with caution. They had heard this argument before and knew it could get rather explosive.
"Everyone else is here and we're waiting on him. Again," Ron grumbled, his chin resting on his hand while the other bounced the tip of his quill irritated against the scoured wooden table.
"What do you want me to do Ron?" Hermione asked with a sigh, reaching across the table and snatching the offending object from his fingers. "I can't just say Abra-bloody-cadabara and the stupid prat show up."
"Good evening fellow do-gooders!"
Draco Malfoy swept into the room with a certain flourish that only he could embody, his long black cloak flowing elegantly behind him. He was followed by a small house elf in a tattered smock made from a table cloth. She was hopping nervously around him, waiting for instructions.
"It's about time." Ron sneered but Malfoy didn't seem to hear.
"You're late, Malfoy," Hermione said with a sigh. "The meeting was supposed to start-"
"What's the matter Granger?" Malfoy asked, pulling the draw string of his cloak and letting it fall heavily on the small creature bouncing around his knees. "Miss me?"
"Always," she replied, smiling sardonically. Then glancing at the small elf who was trying to disentangle herself from the cloak, she added, "Must you treat her like that?"
Hermione stood and pulled the heavy fabric off the small creature, who tugged it back into her small arms, glaring angrily at Hermione before scampering off.
"We have more to worry about than elves, Granger." Malfoy replied darkly and she looked up at him.
"What not?" he asked, plopping down into one of the chairs and leaning back languidly. "Death Eaters torturing wizards in Essex, setting fires in Kent, terrorizing Muggle London." He paused frowning. "Well that last bit isn't so bad."
Hermione took a deep breath, about to let Malfoy have it, when Harry Potter came bustling into the room, his arms full of parchments.
"Hey," Malfoy cried petulantly. "Why doesn't he get his arse chewed out for being late?"
"Because I'm the bloody Chosen One," Harry replied, sarcastically. "Now tell us what you know."
DMHG DMHG DMHG
"You really need to show up on time you know."
Draco sighed, closing his eyes. He was standing outside, enjoying the quiet of the evening. Now Granger had to come out and muck it all up.
"But it annoys the Weasel so," was his reply, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder at her.
"The reason we have them at this time is because-"
"I know why we have them at this time," he snapped and he could practically hear her seething.
"Then you know that Harry has to report to the ministry afterwards and Neville has to be back at the apothecary in Knockturn Alley at nine, and-"
"And you know that I'm putting my bloody life on the line for this!" Draco yelled, turning on her and found her glaring at him. "It's not like I can tell the Dark Lord, 'Look I hate to cut this short but the people we are fighting against are having a meeting and I really need to be there because, you know, I'm telling them EVERYTHING YOUR BLOODY SAYING!"
"Oh you're so dramatic."
"Dramatic?" he asked astonished. "Dramatic! Are you actually saying this to me?"
"You know what I mean Malfoy."
"Yes I do. It means you don't give a damn about what I'm telling your little band of goody two shoes. Maybe I'll take my information elsewhere."
He turned his back to her and began walking down the street. His anger was burning away quickly. He had overreacted slightly. But she didn't know he was thinking that.
"Malfoy wait!" Hermione yelled, hurrying after him, but he didn't stop. "Wait!" she exclaimed, catching his arm and he spun around looking at her fiercely.
"What are you doing Granger?" he asked when she didn't let go.
"Stopping you," she said, releasing his arm finally, and looking away, seemingly embarrassed.
He looked at her suspiciously, watching her shift from one foot to the other. He began to smile as it dawned on him. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he chuckled softly.
"You…you like me, don't you Granger?"
She snorted. "I most certainly do not. Your information is integral to what we are trying to do and…"
He was nodding along to her entire spiel, watching her sputter and yammer awkwardly, an amused smile gracing his lips.
"…and besides, you know way too much about our operation to simply walk away," she ended with a laugh that conveyed the absurdity of the situation, but her smile fell to quickly, a dead giveaway.
"You like me."
"Oh bugger it all!" Hermione growled, rolling her eyes and turning away. "Go, give them everything, just get the hell out of here."
"Miss me Granger," he sang after her, and she glared at him over her shoulder.
"Always, Malfoy," she spat. "Always."
DMHG DMHG DMHG
"So when are you going to admit it?"
Hermione dropped the plate she had been rinsing and it shattered in the bottom of the sink. She took a deep, calming breath and looked over her shoulder. Draco Malfoy was leaning casually against the door jamb.
"What are you doing here?" she asked turning back to the dishes, picking the broken pieces from the water and setting them on the counter.
"We have a meeting Granger."
"Yes, but it's not for another twenty minutes."
"Look you bitched at me for being late, now you're bitching at me for being early?" he asked with a snort.
"I'm not…" she trailed, cutting her own thoughts short with a sound of annoyance. "Thank you," she gritted out, "for being on time."
"You're welcome." Malfoy replied, pushing himself away from the jamb to advance further into the room. "You didn't answer my question."
"When are you going to admit that you have a serious thing for me?" he grinned.
"I don't know why you're fighting it Granger," he drawled, crossing his feet at the ankles, leaning against the counter and enfolding his arms over his chest
"Adorable…yes I know," he sighed, examining his fingernails.
"I was going to say incorrigible," she replied, fighting a smile.
"Mmm," he hummed watching her scrub the remnants of dinner from another plate. "How come you never invite me to dinner?" he asked suddenly and she laughed.
"You barely make it to the meetings, Malfoy."
"True," he consented. "But still it's rather rude of you not to even ask."
The plate clattered to the bottom of the sink and she looked at him menacingly. She opened her mouth to spit something nasty at him, but snapped it shut again, and making a noise of annoyed discomfort.
"Are you just…trying …to annoy me," she gritted out and he chuckled.
"Yes," he smiled. "You're so cute when you're being a pissy swot."
He reached a hand up to pinch her cheek and she slapped it away violently. He laughed and reached to do it again but was met with eleven inches of vinewood pointed at his nose. She was a quick draw. His smile faded as he grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back, pulling painfully until her wand clattered to the ground.
"Brute force? Not much like you Draco?" Hermione snarled and he gave her a tight lipped smile.
"Well I am a Death Eater, love."
His face was centimeters from hers, his breath fanning across her cheeks. His mouth hovered above hers, waiting. A few seconds passed before she finally gave in and brushed her lips with his. He cupped her face with the hand he wasn't using to restrain her and nipped at her bottom lip before soothing the bite with his tongue. She moaned at this, giving him full access to her mouth. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue sensuously against hers. All resistance left her body at this and she melted against him.
He broke their kiss then, still holding her close, letting her heaving chest push achingly against his. He smiled into her desire filled eyes.
"I have one more question for you Granger," he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.
"What?" she groaned, weakly.
"Did you miss me?"
She growled and forced herself from his grasp. Pushing a stray curl from her forehead and staring at him defiantly, she forced herself into some semblance of composure.
"Always," she snarled, pushing past him and out of the room.
DMHG DMHG DMHG
It was not often that Draco Malfoy was taken by surprise. It was also not often that he was swept off his feet. So you can imagine how shocked he was when he discovered that both of these things appeared to be happening to him at the exact same time.
One moment he was standing in the hallway of a rundown motel in London and the next he was being pulled rather violently into a room and before he even had a chance to draw his wand he was being pushed up against the now closed door, his mouth covered in a kiss that could only be described as mind blowing.
He pulled back only when his lungs demanded it, panting as he watched Hermione Granger's small hands make rapid work of the buttons on his robe and pushing it from his shoulders, she claimed his mouth again. His fingers delved into her hair, massaging her scalp as he allowed her to undress him completely.
"Well this seems entirely unfair," he replied standing naked before her fully clothed form.
"Deal with it," she replied, turning her back to him with a smirk.
He raised an eyebrow at her back. She'd taken to smirking at him recently, and he couldn't help but relish in his bad influence. No, it was not often that Draco Malfoy was taken by surprise. It was also not often that he was made to wait. And he was never, ever, told what to do.
He struck fast, grasping her arms and spinning her quickly to face him. Gripping the collars of her blouse, he ripped forcefully, sending buttons flying. A small tug sent her skirt and underwear to her ankles and quick flick of his fingers released the clasp on her bra. She was staring up at him with doe eyes, desire tinged with excitement and a little apprehension. He smirked at her before he spun her again, pushing her down hard, bending her over the foot of the bed. She gave out a cry of surprise as his hand gripped the back of her neck, forcing the side of her face against the blankets.
"Are you afraid?" he asked, pressing his lips to her ear, aligning his body with hers. She did her best to shake her head. "Good." He smirked as he positioned himself at her entrance. "Because you like it like this."
With one long thrust he was inside her and she let out a low growl. She was slick and warm around him, engulfing him completely as he worked her roughly but steadily. One hand held her neck while the other gripped her hip, both securing her, holding her. When his thrusts became more savage, the hand on her neck gripped her hair, pulling her head back just far enough to make her arch her back, allowing him to slide even deeper inside her. It was then that her pussy contracted around him like a vice, her voice ringing out into the small room as her orgasm overtook her. He followed her in two more thrusts, moaning deep in his throat as he fell against her, completely spent.
It was then that he asked her, his cheek pressed against her back, his words broken apart by his hitched breathing. "So Granger…did you…miss me?"
Her chuckle vibrated against his cheek and he smiled pressing his lips against her spine, tasting the salt of her sweat.
"Always, Malfoy," she breathed. "Always."
DMHG DMHG DMHG
Hermione Granger was not a romantic. She did not believe in silly notions such as "the One" and she certainly did not expect grand displays of affection. So it took her completely by surprise, when this evening, as she had lain spent, her limbs entangled with his that the thought of falling in love had slipped into her hazy mind.
And it was now, laying on her back and watching the shadows dance across the ceiling that the idea seemed even more absurd. Which was what made it so much more likely.
She didn't trust sense anymore. War had done things to her, to all of them, that made her doubt that anything was right or sensible in this world. Still, she was not a foolish girl. She knew this would never work. It was Malfoy for crissake.
She rolled onto her side, punching her pillow, being careful not to nudge him as she moved. He was pompous and arrogant and self absorbed and (she watched the graying light of morning lick across his pale skin) completely and utterly beautiful.
She sighed, curling into herself more. This was how it always was, meet somewhere private, usually a rundown muggle establishment, fuck, and sleep as best one could with the knowledge that in a few hours you may be dead.
He always slept with his back to her, curled on his side. He never held her. It would have bothered her if they weren't "just fucking." She chewed her bottom lip, reaching out her hand to smooth her palm down the soft expanse of his back. He twitched and turned his head towards her.
"What are you doing?"
His voice was rough from sleep, slightly annoyed. She didn't answer.
He sighed deeply and rolled to face her, his eyes heavy.
"Wanna go again?" he asked with a yawn. She winced and shook her head. "Then why'd you wake me up?"
He huffed and rolled back over and she giggled despite herself. He really was adorable in an incorrigible kind of way. Her smile fell as feelings of an indescribable sort filled her to the point of suffocation. So much more than lust… so much more than love. An awesome combination of the two; lust, love, passion, trust, and …that thing that words just can't describe. It filled her up and she wanted to laugh and cry and sing and dance and it was so wonderful and overwhelming and amazing…
"You're thinking really loudly, Granger" he muttered and she stiffened, mortified. She hated it when he did that.
He sighed and rolled to face her again, propping his head on his hand. He looked down at her, smoothing her hair back in a gentle way that was so unlike his usual touches but didn't seem unlike him.
"Its okay, Granger," he whispered, smiling softly. "I think I love you too."
Her mouth fell open and he smiled, leaning in to kiss her. Soft this time, so unlike their usual passion-filled, clothes ripping, gotta-have-you-now kisses. This was nice.
He pulled back and snuggled down into the blankets, wrapping both arms solidly around her, burying his face in her neck. His sigh (of contentment?) rushed against her collarbone and she shivered at the closeness.
The sun was almost fully risen now, bright light peaking in through the window. It was time for her to leave, but this new found affection from him was almost worth missing meeting Ginny for coffee and a quick debrief of last night's mission. She wanted to stay but the war was calling again and her obligations, as always, mattered more than her personal wishes.
She placed a kiss on his forehead, pulling away and he kept his hands on her until she was too far away to reach. He lay on his stomach, his arms curled under the pillow that had held her head and watched her dress.
She threw her bag over her shoulder and began to walk to the door (they never said goodbye) when his voice stopped her dead in her tracks.
Everyone called her Hermione. It was her name after all but hearing it fall from his lips so easily, as if it wasn't the first time he had ever said it, made her feel like she had never heard it before. She turned to find him sitting up now, arms locked behind him, propping himself up, legs stretched out in front of him.
"Miss me?" he questioned, his voice soft, imploring, almost as if he were afraid she would deny him.
Her bag fell to the floor with a thud as she bounded back onto the bed and into his arms, knocking him back against the pillows. He laughed with her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Always," she smiled before her lips descended on his.
DMHG DMHG DMHG
Running. Blind panic. Mustn't panic.
Draco Malfoy's legs though strong and capable were shaking so badly that he almost fell to the ground. But that would greatly inhibit this running for his life thing he had going on right now so he was doing his very best to calm himself down.
It was an ambush. He knew it was coming. He had helped plan it. He had told the Order exactly when and where it would be. He hadn't expected the plan to be changed. But the Dark Lord's will was not to be questioned.
He hadn't had time to warn them, to warn her. The result was disastrous. Hexes and jinxes flying maniacally through the rooms of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and all he could think of was her. Finding her. Saving her. He knew what they would do to her if they found her first.
Thank god the fighting was so intense or the fact that he wasn't cursing anyone would probably have caused him some grief. But as most of the Death Eaters had bigger, Potter-shaped fish to fry his lack of enthusiasm went unnoticed.
Sidestepping Nott and Longbottom who had fallen at his feet with a crash as he rushed into the kitchen, he looked around, searching for that big bushy head. He was about to turn to go upstairs when a flash of red light and screams, her screams, floated in from the window looking out over the garden.
Clambering out the door, he found Antonin Dolohov, Rudolfus Lestrange, and his own father laughing as she writhed on the ground, doing her best now not to scream, not to give them what they wanted.
"Draco!" Dolohov exclaimed, and her writhing stopped, leaving her in a panting heap on the ground. "Join us. We were just about to have some real fun with her."
She was pulling herself up on her hands and knees. Her eyes met his as she pushed herself up as best she could. Her mouth was bloody and there was a dark bruise blooming across her cheek.
Rage filled him and he pulled out his wand, getting ready to curse them all into oblivion when her weak voice broke through the roaring in his ears.
"Draco," she sobbed weakly, and he lowered his wand, rushing to her side.
"Draco what are you doing?" Lestrange exclaimed as she fell forward against Draco's chest, clutching his robes fervently.
"What is the meaning of this!" Lucius Malfoy's voice, as it had done ever since he was a little boy, drew Draco's attention immediately.
He looked up to find the three older men glaring at him, bewildered and suspicious, their wands trained on his chest.
"Its okay, Draco," she whispered into his ear, her voice stronger now but low enough so the others would not hear.
"No," he muttered back, his mind racing around every possible way of escape, his possibilities looking less and less promising by the moment.
"We knew it might come to this," she murmured, one of her hands finding its place over his heart, nails digging in. "You have to. This isn't about us."
He gritted his teeth, steeling himself. Turning his head into her hair, he inhaled deeply one last time before shoving her roughly away from him, screwing his face up in what he hoped was a sufficient look of disgust.
"Filthy Mudblood!" he spat, the words turning to ash in his mouth. "She's not worth the curses you waste on her."
The other men considered him guardedly, their wands still pointing steadfastly at him. He took a deep breath, looking down at her pleading eyes. He kicked at her, stopping the rushing of his leg as it was about to hit her body, so the blow was softened as much as possible without it looking as if he was trying not to cause her pain. She still winced slightly, falling to the dirt.
"Then rid us of her."
His head snapped up, seeing the men were now lowering their wands, but looking at him with a smugness that showed their plan. They were testing him. She was pulling herself into a sitting position again. That was his girl, strong willed, wouldn't bend to anyone, not even him.
"Surely…surely she would be of some use," he stuttered, glancing down at her briefly and watching her eyes close in displeasure. "She plans Potter's every move."
"Even better that we kill her then," Dolohov smiled, but it slid away quickly. "Do it."
"But she would be a good…good bargaining chip," he swallowed hard, his heart threatening to beat out of his ribcage.
"Potter can bargain for her lifeless corpse!" Lucius Malfoy yelled, and Draco winced. "Now do it! Or I'll think my son a traitor!"
The three men had their wands trained on him again and he looked from face to face of all of them, his mind turning wildly.
"Draco," her voice was soft but strong and he looked down at her.
Sitting on her knees, covered in blood and dirt, she begged him silently. All the conversations they had ever had, all the kisses they had shared, all the love they had made flashed across his memory as he pulled out his wand and pointed it resolutely at her face. Tears burned his eyes and she blurred into obscurity in front of him.
"DO IT!" Lucius Malfoy screamed.
Draco steeled himself once more, blinking the tears away, her vision snapping vividly into focus.
"Miss me?" she questioned, her voice breaking and he looked away, letting out a rush of breath, his heart shattering.
"Always," he replied, broken, closing his eyes on the flash of green light that erupted from his wand.