She was miserable.
That was all there was to it. She was totally and completely miserable.
He hadn’t given her time to explain that it was she who had messed everything up; he’d automatically assumed instead that she hadn’t loved him.
It was a false assumption.
She sat curled up on her sofa, staring blankly at the telly. She hadn’t even bothered to remove the red dress she’d been so anxious for him to divest her of, she was so despondent.
She loved him, and she loved him well, even if he no longer believed it. That had been her entire reason for turning down his proposal, after all – she’d simply assumed he didn’t love her in return, and she hadn’t wanted to be trapped in a one-sided marriage. Their casual dating was fine, since she could up and leave at any time, should he mistreat her. Marriage was much more permanent, and she held the institution in such high esteem that she wasn’t about to enter into it so lightly.
Then again, she thought wryly, he’d never said that he did love her, so maybe she was justified in refusing him. But for him to look so upset when he’d said that – she shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. He was gone now, and it wouldn’t do to dwell on the situation.
She frowned. She didn’t need to be alone right now; what she needed was a friend. One person sprung to mind, even though she knew it would be difficult for the both of them to discuss this particularly sensitive subject.
Two hours later, Harry was fidgeting in one of her armchairs as she related the entire evening’s events to him. When she finished, she sat back and waited expectantly for the onslaught of “Why do want him?” “He’s no good for you,” and “You’re better off without him.” When he chewed quietly on his bottom lip, however, it was her turn to fidget.
“Well?” she asked nervously. “What do you think? What should I do?”
“What do you want to do, Hermione?”
She gaped at him. “I want to talk to him and have him give me a chance to explain myself,” she said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “But I don’t exactly see that happening.”
“And if you spoke to him, what would you tell him?” he asked curiously, tilting his head to one side. “That you loved him? Because I haven’t heard you say that he’s made that declaration to you.”
“He hasn’t,” she said, her cheeks flushing. “But I still think it’s important to tell him that I feel that way about him – just to set him straight, I mean.”
“So why are you sitting here and asking me what you should do?” Harry asked incredulously. “I don’t exactly like the guy, Hermione, but this is totally unfair to him.”
“How so?”
“To sit here and discuss your feelings about him with me. Don’t you see the irony here?”
She watched as his lips twisted into a wry smile, and a long sigh escaped her. “You’re right – I should be telling him. But I wouldn’t begin to know where to look for him.”
“Why not let him come to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m about to help you,” he said, rising from the chair. He tossed a handful of powder into the flames and called out Draco’s name. Moments later, to Hermione’s mixed chagrin and surprise, Draco’s head appeared amid the green flames.
“Potter - damn it,” he grumbled. His hair was mussed up and his eyes were red and puffy. “What is so fucking important that it couldn’t wait until tomo-“ his voice trailed off as he caught a glimpse of Hermione in the background, and she watched with a sinking feeling as his expression closed off and became stony.
“I’d very much like it if you’d come over to Hermione’s flat,” Harry said pleasantly, flashing an impish grin at him. “And to be perfectly honest, she would like it, too.”
“What in the bloody hell is going on?” Draco thundered. “And why are you in my girlfriend’s flat?”
“Your girlfriend?” Harry asked, not having to pretend his surprise. “But I thought you told her-“ Hermione made a cutting motion across her throat, grateful when she realized that Draco hadn’t seen it. She stepped in front of Harry and knelt down in front of the fire.
“Please, Draco,” she entreated softly, tears stinging her eyes. “Please come, so I can talk to you.” He glared icily at her.
“I believe we’ve said everything that we needed to say.”
“No, we haven’t,” she said, her temper rising. “You said what you needed to say and didn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”
His harsh laugh made her wince. “I seem to remember hearing the word ‘no’ quite clearly.”
“You’ve made up your mind not to listen to me, then?” she asked, barely restraining the tears. Harry glanced at her, acutely aware that she was about to end the floo call and burst into tears.
He didn’t much fancy consoling the bird he loved, especially when she was going to be bloody well crying over another man.
“Hermione, go into the kitchen for a minute – I’d like to have a word with Malfoy alone.”
“What?” Draco asked, arching his eyebrow in suspicion. “What do you have to say to me that she can’t be present for?”
“Afraid?” Harry smirked.
“No,” Draco grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I just wanted a witness when you threaten my life.”
Harry laughed and shooed Hermione out of the room. When she was gone, he bent in front of the floo.
“You should give her another chance,” he said soberly. Draco stared at him.
“How much is she paying you to do this?”
“What? Don’t be stupid, Malfoy.”
“You’ve never liked me with her – and you’ve never liked me, period. Why change your mind now?”
“I’ve never liked you with her because you stole her right out from underneath me,” Harry snapped, frowning.
Draco smirked.
“You don’t deserve her, you blundering idiot, but against my better judgement, I’m asking you to come over here and hear her out.”
Draco studied him quietly for a moment, and then, wearing a smirk of epic proportions, realized: “You don’t want to hear her cry, do you?”
Harry’s cheeks turned scarlet, but his glare was set in place. “You are the most insufferable moron I’ve ever – oh, bugger this,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m not going to waste my time anymore. I don’t understand why she loves you when she could have me.”
The words had their desired effect. Harry pretended not to watch as his words sunk in. Draco’s face contorted from surprise to anger, and then from anger to misery. Harry felt a wave of triumph when the blonde man’s head disappeared from the floo, and he went into the kitchen, where Hermione leaned against the counter with a mug of chocolate.
“What did you say? What did he say? Is he-“
“If I were you,” he said calmly, “I’d make another cup of chocolate. He’ll be here any minute, which means that it’s time for me to leave.”
She threw her arms around Harry’s neck and squeezed for all she was worth. “Oh, Harry, thank you!”
A half an hour after Harry had gone, Hermione began to wonder if he’d been mistaken about Draco coming. She rose from the sofa and extinguished the lights as she moved into her bedroom. She brushed the tangles from her hair and was just about to remove her dress when she heard him.
“I’d much rather you left that on,” he drawled softly. Her heart in her throat, she turned to face him. He was lounging in her doorway with his arms folded across his chest, and he looked nothing short of edible – even though he’d looked terrible during the floo call, now he was immaculately groomed.
“You came,” was all she could think to say.
“I did,” he said, inclining his head. “Potter said I should talk to you, so I’m here.”
“Since when do you even talk to Harry, let alone listen to him?” she asked curiously.
“Since I started working with him,” he replied softly. Her jaw dropped.
“What?”
“Shortly after you and I parted ways eighteen months ago, I started working with him.”
“So that’s why he never –“
“Never what?”
“When you came back,” she said, her cheeks burning, “And I told him about us, he never told me to stop seeing you.”
“Impressive,” he said coolly. “The man shows a great deal more restraint than I would have thought him capable of.”
“Are the two of you friends?”
“No, but when your life depends on your partner’s judgement, you learn not to second guess it.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at her feet, which were still shoved into the stiletto heels. “Well.”
“So I’m here, like the two of you asked,” he drawled softly. “What was it that you wanted?”
“I wanted to tell you that you were wrong.”
“About?”
“About the reason I said no to marrying you.”
“Oh?” He stiffened visibly. “And what would that be?”
“You said that I didn’t want to marry you because I didn’t love you,” she said, lifting her eyes to meet his. “But that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Oh?”
“I do love you,” she said.
“Then why won’t you marry me?” he asked, frowning.
“Because I don’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage any more than you do,” she said, exasperated. His frown deepened.
“If you love me, how can it be loveless?”
“I love you,” she whispered brokenly. “But you don’t love me. And I refuse to enter into something so permanent as marriage with someone who is only fond of me.”
The crease lines in his brow smoothed as he burst into laughter. It was her turn to frown.
“Why is that funny?”
“You- you think I’m fond of you?”
Her countenance took on a guarded expression. “Are you not?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. His amusement was still obvious when he spoke again, “I’m more than fond of you. How could you ever think such a thing, Hermione?”
“You’ve never said anything to indicate otherwise,” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“If I’ve never said anything to let you know how I felt about you, why would you even assume that I was fond of you?”
“Because you kept coming back to me when you came home, and you were kind to me,” she said, unable to fight back the tears that pooled in her eyes. “So I just assumed that you liked me – at least in that capacity.”
“Why do you think I asked you to marry me?” he drawled softly.
“You’re familiar with me,” she said, shrugging. “You know I love you, and you know I’d be easy to control as your wife.”
He snorted. “Hermione, you may be many things, but subservient isn’t one of them.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she said, sticking her chin out proudly.
“I had no idea that you were in love with me,” he admitted, his eyes turning to pools of molten silver.
“But I thought – I thought you knew,” she protested, not seeing him step towards her. “I showed you in every way I knew how, just short of telling you.”
Her breath was stolen away when she turned toward him and almost bumped noses with him. “And I thought I was doing the very same thing.”
“What?” she asked, her eyelids fluttering closed as his warm hands stroked the bare skin of her arms. Why did it always seem so difficult to concentrate when he touched her?
“I thought that I was showing you how I felt every time I came back into town,” he whispered, his breath caressing her lips. “I never saw any other women, and I always spent every free moment here with you. I thought you knew how I felt about you.”
She gasped as his hand moved down to cup her breast through her dress. “Draco, can we-“
“You’ve never taken this off, have you?” he asked suddenly, his fingers lifting the silver crescent moon that hung around her throat. She shook her head.
“No, I haven’t,” she admitted. He dropped the charm and watched as it fell between her breasts.
“I envy that necklace,” he said, smirking.
“Why?”
“Because it gets to remain in a very comfortable place all day, every day.” She giggled softly. His mouth curved into a soft smile as he cupped her cheeks in his palms, and he stroked her cheeks lightly with his thumbs. “Hermione, I want you to marry me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered back.
“Didn’t you hear me a moment ago?” he asked, dropping his hand to travel up and down her back. “I told you that I thought you knew how I felt about you.”
“I do,” she said. “You’re fond of me.”
“Don’t be a bloody moron – I’m in love with you.”
She pulled away and gaped at him. “Did you just say-“
“I said that I’m in love with you, and it’s the truth. I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me otherwise.”
“But you’ve never said anything,” she protested, allowing him to pull her back to him.
“Neither have you, so we’re even.” His lips touched to the hollow of her throat.
“You should have said something.”
“Right back at you.” He began placing open-mouthed kisses on the bared skin of her shoulder.
“B-But - I thought you knew already!”
“Ditto.” A light sucking sensation on her collarbone nearly made her eyes roll back in her head.
“Would you quit doing that? It’s making me forget to be mad at you!”
“Then it’s working,” he insisted, scraping his teeth gently over her skin. Her body was racked with chills as his thumb brushed the side of her breast through the dress. “Now shut up and let me bloody well give you a proper kiss.”
She was about to issue forth a tart reply, but before the words left her lips, his mouth was covering hers.
Hands were on her back, stroking gently, mimicking the movements of his tongue as it moved inside of her mouth. He was deliberately teasing her, she realized – but she couldn’t bring herself to be angry about it. His hands slid down to the hem of her dress, deftly sliding beneath the fabric and trailing along her inner thigh.
She broke the kiss and gasped as his fingers touched her dampness through the knickers she wore, and her eyes closed. He was breathing raggedly as well – pushed nearly to the edge after such a trying evening. From the pressure that he was exerting on her most sensitive of nerve endings, she could tell that he was in no mood to be gentle right now, and she welcomed it.
“Draco,” she moaned, knowing it would fuel his desire. His hand dropped away and she met his eyes, confused until she realized that he was removing his clothes. When she started to do the same, he shook his head and stilled her hands.
“I want to do it.”
The words shot directly to her core and made her knees feel weak. When he stood before her completely naked, he reached out and pulled the dress over her head. She was left standing in her satiny slip and her high heeled shoes, which he showed no intention of removing.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, his tongue laving her through the thin slip, and her head dropped back. He fondled the other breast, his fingers pinching and teasing until her body ached for him.
His mouth moved to the other breast, suckling it through the cloth, until she was so slick with desire that she could feel her wetness trickling down her inner thigh. Finally he removed the slip, leaving her in her bra, knickers, and of course, the red heels.
“I wish I had a camera,” he mused quietly, his eyes like molten silver as he gazed at her. “You’re definitely a sight to behold.”
“Don’t patronize me,” she said, her eyes cloudy with need. “I want more from you than compliments.”
She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. When she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her knickers and slipped them off of her legs, he arched an eyebrow.
“What about the shoes?” he asked.
“I thought you liked the shoes,” she whispered, stepping closer to him. “I can take them off-“
“Don’t you dare,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing at her smirk. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that one.”
“Am I? I don’t think so.” Something about the familiarity of the banter made him grin.
He reached out and grabbed her around the waist, and then guided her over to the bed where he pushed her down. She had no time to think before he settled between her legs and his mouth closed over her.
Her eyes widened in shock; he’d never done this before! But then… oh…
His mouth…
His mouth was…
Her head dropped back on the pillow as pleasure coursed through her, and all coherent thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. All she knew was that she felt as though her veins were pumping molten lava through them – which was a fitting image, since she felt like she was about to …
Explode.
She bucked her hips gently against his mouth as her hands curled in Draco’s hair, and she rode out the intense waves of the strongest orgasm she’d ever experienced. When she was lying limp on the bed and feeling totally sapped of her strength, he crawled up the bed, stopping when his face was above hers.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, suddenly feeling shy. He arched an eyebrow.
“Had to prove that I can give as good as I get, didn’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve done it for me plenty of times without asking for reciprocation,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face.
“That didn’t mean that you had to do it,” she protested.
“I did have to do it. I had to prove to my fiancée that she’s going to be completely and totally satisfied with me as a husband, otherwise she won’t marry me.”
“Is that so,” she breathed, her throat constricting. “She’s already turned you down twice, so what makes you think she’s going to say yes this time?”
“She knows that I love her now,” he whispered. “And if she loves me like she says she does, then she wouldn’t possibly turn me down again. You know what they say – the third time’s a charm, right?” She gave him a watery smile.
“I love you,” she said softly, her voice breaking.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she cried, her eyes filling with tears as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, I will marry you!”
“It’s about damned time, too,” he muttered, though he smiled as he said it. Her mouth sought his in a searing kiss, and somewhere in the middle of it, he slid into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him deeper inside.
He groaned and began moving rhythmically, withdrawing and reentering roughly. Her eyes flew open wide and her head began thrashing about on the pillow, fanning her hair out beneath her.
“Draco, please!” she begged. She bucked her hips wildly against him, sobbing with need as he continued to ravage her. Finally she felt his hips jerk erratically as he spilled into her. It seemed like the cue her body had been waiting for, and she felt her own release wash over her in waves.
When they had been lying still for several minutes, Draco fished his wand off of the floor. “Accio ring.”
The diamond engagement ring he’d offered her once before landed in his palm, and he held it out to her. She nodded once, holding out a trembling hand to him. She was shaking so badly that he had to hold her hand still as he slid the ring onto her third finger.
“It fits perfectly!” she exclaimed.
“Of course it does,” he said softly. “It’s charmed to.”
She turned her hand to the left, and then to the right, examining the jewel, and then gave a quiet laugh, which he frowned at.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s just – I mean, if anyone had ever told me that someday you and I would be engaged, I know I would have laughed myself stupid,” she breathed. “We hated each other so much, it just didn’t seem possible.”
“Things change, Hermione. People change.”
“We’ve changed,” she amended.
“Is that such a bad thing?” he murmured, trailing his fingers lightly down her bare arm. She shivered.
“No, I never said it was bad,” she said, shaking her head. “I just never would have believed it.”
“I hope you’ve become a believer by now,” he drawled, arching an eyebrow. “Especially since you’re wearing my ring.”
She was silent for a moment before she turned to him. “Have you told your mother about this?”
“Yes.”
“And is she all right with the fact that it’s – well, that it’s me?”
“She wasn’t at first,” he admitted, glancing away from her. “But now she knows that I’m serious, so the idea has grown on her.”
“At first?” Hermione repeated, her eyebrows shooting up. “How long has she had to get used to the idea?”
“Four months.”
“What?” she gasped. “That long?”
His eyes drifted back to meet hers. “I made up my mind almost a year ago about this, Hermione. I’m not easily deterred from something once I decide it’s what I want.”
“You decided a year ago that you wanted to marry me?” she squeaked.
“I realized a year ago that no other woman could measure up to you. I thought about you constantly, and it nearly drove me insane with want. I decided that I would never go through that again.”
“What would you have done if I hadn’t allowed you back into my life?” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“I never even considered the possibility that you wouldn’t,” he admitted. “And after Potter told me how the two of you had-“ he closed his eyes briefly, and she felt the heat rise into her cheeks.
“We only did that once,” she said, the tears spilling over.
“He told me as much.”
“Did he tell you that he wouldn’t talk to me for nearly two weeks afterward because I’d called out your name?”
His eyes widened. “No, he left that part out.”
“I imagine he would,” she said, nodding. “He was very angry with me. When I finally got him to talk to me, I apologized a million times. He finally said that he understood that there must be something more than lust between us, if I was still so hung up on you.”
“Do you love him?” he asked curiously.
“I did,” she admitted. “But not the way I love you.”
“How so?”
“With Harry, everything was soft and sweet and gentle. While that was nice, it wasn’t everything I wanted – you were intense and … and …” her voice trailed off as she struggled to find the words. “Well, you were different than him, though at times you could be sweet and soft and gentle, too.”
He wrinkled his nose, even though he was grinning. “The sex was better, wasn’t it? That’s why you couldn’t forget me.”
Hermione’s tone was sober as she answered him. “The sex was better.”
“I knew I was better than Potter at something,” he said, his breath escaping him in a rush at the look on her face. It was almost worshipful, and it was so amazing to see directed at him that it made his head spin.
“Draco?”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me.”
He bent his head to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, and she wondered at it. How was it that he always seemed to be able to anticipate the intensity that she wanted when he touched her? His lips moved slowly, tenderly over hers, and warmth pooled in her stomach. His tongue caressed hers lightly, and a sigh escaped her. He pulled away slowly and looked at her.
“All right?” She nodded.
“I love you.”
“You’d better.” She smiled again as his mouth descended on hers.