The Dark: Chapter Three
Title: The Dark
Username: maria_elena_87
Rating NC-17
Summary: When nothing is as it seems, and love and freedom are denied… While a new kind of evil keeps the world under the horrors of its dominion, lives, dreams and hope shatter along blood stained ways… And Hermione Granger experiences it in the worst way possible.
Warnings: Angst, Violence
Genre: Drama
Author's Note: A big hug to Dacian_goddess who is betaing this story.
Forse non sarei
come sono adesso
forse non avrei
questa forza addosso
forse non saprei
neanche fare un passo
forse crollerei
scivolando in basso
invece tu sei qui
e mi hai dato tutto questo
e invece tu sei qui
mi hai rimesso al proprio posto
i più piccoli
pezzi della mia esistenza
componendoli
dando loro una coerenza
Max Pezzali - Il Mondo Insieme a Te
Maybe I wouldn’t be
Like I’m now
Maybe I wouldn’t be so strong
Maybe I wouldn’t be able
To take a step
Maybe I would collapse
Breaking down
But you are here
And you’ve given me all these things
But you are here
And you’ve put in place
The smallest
Pieces of my existence
Putting them together
Giving them a coherence
Max Pezzali - The World With You
The World With You
It was July; the N.E.W.T.s had come and gone for Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco and all seventh year students at Hogwarts. They were now ready to begin a new life, one on the outside of the castle that had been their home for so long. Hermione Granger had gotten the highest scores of the entire school; Draco Malfoy’s and others’, including Harry’s, had been among the higher scores. Ron had had a few difficulties with his exams, and had been on the brink of failing. Ultimately, he had managed to scrape together a handful of N.E.W.T.s, earning himself a stern scolding from Hermione for the negligence he had demonstrated towards his studies during the past years.
The morning of Draco and Hermione’s wedding dawned warm and clear. The atmosphere at the Burrow, however, was highly charged - so agitated, it was bordering on chaotic. Every occupant of the house radiated nervousness and anxiety because of the impending nuptials.
Hermione Granger had been at the Burrow since the end of the school year, much as she had the previous two summers. At the end of her fifth year, Hermione’s parents had been found dead in their house, countless bruises and wounds marring their bodies, and terrified expressions on their faces. The autopsy had revealed that the Grangers had been tortured for hours before being murdered, but the coroner hadn’t concluded which object had been used to inflict pain upon the victims, nor had he been able to define the cause of the death with absolute certainty.
The police had investigated and followed every lead they had, but nothing yielded results. It appeared that the Grangers’ case would remain unsolved for the time being. The only thing the investigators were sure of was that the dentists had been involved in illicit trafficking; these activities were believed to be at the base of their brutal homicide.
But Dumbledore and the Order knew better than that. When news of the Grangers’ deaths had reached their ears, everyone had immediately understood that the police had been wrong. Hermione’s parents had been killed by Death Eaters; and by the description of the wounds and markings that had perplexed the doctors, there was no doubt that the murders had been commissioned by Voldemort.
Hermione’s desperation at the news was beyond words; she had wept bitter tears of pain and rage, and her cries of fury had been deafening. Those monsters had taken her parents away from her. Never again would she see their smiles, or hear their voices, or hug and kiss them. Her family was gone, and nothing, no one, could give back what she had lost. The tragedy of Hermione’s loss had been aggravated by the insulting insinuations of the police, which had besmirched the Grangers’ names. Sure, in the Wizarding world, everyone knew the truth; but in the Muggle world, where they had lived their whole lives, the Grangers had been made into common criminals, whom everyone was grateful to be rid of. It was as though they had been killed twice over.
Harry, Ron and Ginny had not left their friend alone for even a second; they helped Hermione to free herself from the coils of deep pain she had gotten caught in, giving her a reason to go on, to live her life as her parents would have surely wanted.
“Ginny, please, would you just stop touching me everywhere? The dress is all right!” an exasperated Hermione said for the tenth time, looking through the large mirror at the younger witch behind her.
“This is the best day of your life, and you’re telling me to stop making you the most beautiful young woman in the whole Wizarding world?” Ginny asked disappointedly, returning her friend’s gaze, hands planted firmly on her hips.
“It’s getting late, Gin; I should already be downstairs, in the garden,” Hermione replied in a serious tone.
“Come on Hermione,“ the redhead answered, “this isn’t some lesson you need to attend. Besides, the bride has to be late on her wedding day! After all, the two of you will have the rest of your lives to be together, making, oh well, you know what…”
“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed, blushing slightly.
Smiling at Hermione’s reaction, the red-haired witch approached her, putting a simple garland on her head.
The young bride smiled back, while she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, this would be the best day of her life; the day when she would give her soul to the man she loved with all her heart, and whom she would live the rest of her life with.
*****
Three hours later, the few guests who had been invited to the ceremony, were talking to one another in the garden outside the Burrow, where the wedding had taken place.
Even if the Weasleys hadn’t been that trilled at the prospect of Hermione marrying Draco, they hadn’t denied her the support she needed on the most important day of her life. They had loved her since the first day they had known her, and the last two years they had spent with the witch had increased the affection they all felt towards her. The Weasleys had become Hermione’s family after her parents’ deaths, and they had wanted to do everything in their power to make her feel at home and safe. When she had returned from Hogwarts after the N.E.W.T.s, informing Arthur and Molly about her plans to marry Draco, they had forced themselves not to allow the prejudice they felt towards the Malfoys ruin Hermione’s happiness. After all, the blond wizard had sworn his loyalty to Dumbledore, and he and Hermione had been a couple for a year. The Weasleys thought Draco had to love her as much as she loved him, to ask her to become his wife.
Getting Ron, Ginny, and the twins to see things the same way had been somewhat more difficult. But, in the end, Molly and Arthur had succeeded in convincing their children that marrying Draco was what Hermione wanted, and they couldn’t stand in her way, however genuine their intentions were. So, a small ceremony had been organized at the Burrow, and few people had been invited at the feast, as per Hermione’s and Draco’s requests; they wanted to do something simple with the people they were closer to, and only Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Zabini, Harry and the Weasleys had been present.
Hermione sat on the step outside the Burrow’s front door, a relaxed smile on her lips, and thousands of thoughts flittering through her mind. It had been the most joyous day she had had in a long time, and she still couldn’t believe she was now Draco’s wife. A warm breeze grazed her porcelain skin and brown hair; it made the silk white dress she wore tickle her shins, and caused her soft curls to caress the sides of her face.
“Hey, Hermione,” called a voice from next to her.
Turning her head, she smiled in greeting to the person who had spoken. “Hi, Harry.”
“How do you feel?” he asked, sitting next to her.
“Happy,” she answered simply, looking her friend in the eyes.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Harry said, “We won’t see one another as often as we used to, from now on.” His voice held a hint of sadness while he spoke, and his gaze went to Ron and Ginny, who were laughing at one of Fred and George’s jokes.
“I know; but I want to see a lot of you in the future, so don’t think you’ll get rid of me that easily,” Hermione replied, playfully hitting Harry on the elbow.
Her friend just bowed his head, replying in a softer tone, “Take care of yourself; and, if you have any problems, just come to me, and I’ll do anything in my power to help you.”
“I’ll be fine, Harry,” Hermione answered slowly. “Draco loves me; he will take care of me. You don’t have to worry about it.” She had understood what her friend was talking about, and she knew it was still difficult for him to accept the bond between her and Draco; but she was also sure that time would prove to everyone what a great person her husband really was.
The two friends embraced each other, relishing that moment of quiet and serenity. Harry only hoped with all his being that the negative presentiments he had were only be a product of his mind.
Well away from everyone else, Draco and Blaise were talking quietly, masking the weight of the words they were exchanging under the guise of a friendly conversation.
“How do you think the others will react at the news that their Master has a Muggle-born wife?” the black-haired wizard asked Draco, looking straight at his best friend. He had become a Death Eater the same day Draco had, and he had always supported every decision Draco had made, even the one to eliminate Voldemort to take his place. But Zabini had been disgusted at the news of that relationship, as well as by Draco’s marriage. Granger was just a worthless Mudblood; she may have been a decent shag, but she didn’t have the right to be the Dark Lord’s wife…she was worthless, dirt.
“They will say and do nothing; as you’ve just put it, I’m their Master, and I’ve the right to do whatever I want,” Draco answered, returning his best friend’s gaze. “After all, my followers will have the right to bed all the Mudblood sluts they want, after our victory. And what do you think our beloved Tom Riddle is, hmm? He’s half Muggle-born as well, and some have followed him all their lives. So no one will raise any questions of my marriage with Hermione. ”
Smiling maliciously, Blaise added, “How do you think Granger will react, once she discovers that her husband is, in fact, the darkest wizard of this world?”
“She will do absolutely nothing,” the blond answered slowly, emphasising each word. “She is mine now, body and soul, and I can assure you, I will let her go nowhere. She will have no other choice than to obey my orders.” Draco’s voice had become a deranged whisper on those last few words.
“If you put it that way, congratulations on your marriage, then,” Blaise retorted, not wanting further anger his best friend and future Lord. After all, why should he mind? Draco was the one who had to touch that filth and bear her presence night and day. Plus, the little Gryffindor was unknowingly giving Draco the ardour to follow his projects with more resolution and determination; seeing that he too would benefit from that influence with a higher place in Draco’s ranks, Blaise could only see that as a positive thing.
Nodding imperceptibly, Malfoy just said, “Remember this night.”
“You know I will,” Blaise replied with an evil smirk on his face, which contorted his features demonically.
*****
That evening, Draco sat in his study, in an ancient manor property of his family, where he and his wife would reside from then on. He was attentively perusing the Daily Prophet, fixing his gaze on every detail that might have seemed insignificant at first sight. The wizard was trying to find traces of a possible lead the Aurors were following to catch Voldemort; but there was nothing in the newspaper that could make him believe such a thing. That was good; it meant he still had a lot of time to perfectly organize his every move.
The light noise of a doorknob turning, made the young man raise his head from the desk, bringing a smiling Hermione into his line of sight.
“May I enter?” she asked softly.
“Of course you may,” he answered, gesturing for her to go to him.
The witch crossed the space separating her from her husband and, once she neared the wooden table, she spoke again, “What are you doing?”
“I’ve just finished reading the Prophet,” he said, taking hold of her hand with one of his, and grabbing her gently by the waist with the other. “Come here,” he whispered, pulling her on his lap.
They looked at each other for a few seconds before Hermione leaned into him, brushing his lips with hers. Draco responded to her gesture by cupping the sides of her face, pressing his mouth over hers firmly, yet gently all the same.
The young woman put her arms around his neck, parting her lips to give him more access, which her husband welcomed by slipping his tongue in her warm cavity, stroking her tongue slowly with his own, while his hands released her cheeks to rest on her soft breasts.
Hermione moaned imperceptibly in his mouth, taken by the sudden sensation of his fingers on her sensitive skin. As she grinded her hips against his instinctively, she felt something press on her lower abdomen. Excited by his hardness pressing against her, she broke the kiss with a breathless moan. “Draco…”
“I know,” was all he answered before rising from his seat, taking his wife in his arms. Then, he made his way towards the large sofa at the side of the room, laying her down slowly before settling atop her. Fixing her honey eyes with his grey ones, he started unfastening her white nightgown, while Hermione did the same with his green silk pyjamas. Although she had done it hundreds of times in the past, she couldn’t prevent her cheeks from blushing, giving her porcelain skin a rosy colour.
Noticing that detail, Draco leaned into her for another kiss, overpowered by the arousing sight of her flushed face: she was even more beautiful like that. This time however, the dance of their tongues wasn’t as delicate as it had been before; now they were kissing with passion and ardour, and the movements of their hands quickened as they tried to free each other from their clothes.
Suddenly, they were only in their underwear. Hermione started licking and nibbling on Draco’s chest while he slipped his hand under her knickers, massaging her where he knew she liked him to and applying the pressure and the rhythm that would make her see stars. His fingers grazed at the curls hiding her femininity, before going lower, avoiding her most sensitive spot purposely and teasing her, instead.
Hermione shivered. Draco’s touch never failed to make her feel like she was on fire, and his teasing ministrations had always been a powerful turn on. So, while placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along his small nipples, collarbone, neck and earlobe, she whispered, “Please, Draco…”
He smiled triumphantly, satisfied by the way her body reacted to him, as though he was her world and universe. Complying with her wishes, the wizard started caressing her where she needed it most, moving his palm up and down again and again, until the copious moisture pouring from her let him know she was ready for him. But Draco didn’t want it to be over so soon; even though he was aching for her, he wanted to relish their first night as a married couple to the slightest detail.
Gently tugging on her knickers, he slid them slowly down her thighs and knees, before finally removing the small garment completely. After kissing her mouth again, Draco lowered his head slowly, teasing the warm skin of her upper body with his hot breath before burying his face in the wetness of her arousal. There, he licked and nibbled while his hands grasped her backside, giving him better access to her most secret place.
“Ohhh… Draco… more…” Hermione moaned breathlessly, thrusting her pelvis against the young man’s mouth, in an attempt to bring his tongue inside her aching centre.
Her husband needed no further encouragements. Tightening his grip on her, he complied with her demand, moving his tongue in and out of her, harder and faster every time. There was nothing he found more intimate and arousing than the smell and the taste of her delectable essence.
Hermione had now entangled her fingers in her husband silky hair, caressing the soft tresses the way she knew he found highly erotic. Her hips rose again and again, higher and more forcefully each time, burying Draco’s tongue even deeper inside her. Her eyes were closed, and her head turned restlessly from side to side, while the first tremors of her forceful orgasm hit her, making her scream the young man’s name over and over before her erratic breathing turned her cries into moans, and finally whispers.
Draco raised his head to look at her face contorting with the bliss he had been the first to give her; he liked that sight, too. Raising his body with level with hers, he whispered, “Kiss me.”
She didn’t need him to ask twice; licking his lips, still moist with her juices, she slipped her tongue in his mouth. He tasted of her essence, but she didn’t mind it. The mixed flavour of his saliva and her essence were the most exquisite thing she had ever tasted, and she could have kissed him again and again without stopping, if she hadn’t felt his hardness pressing heavily against her naked skin. Breaking their kiss, she looked at her husband questioningly, as though to ask if he wanted her to do something for him.
Draco’s eyes held a need and desperation she knew very well, and his voice was broken with lust as he said, “Take me in your mouth, Hermione.”
She simply nodded, while he freed himself form his pants, raising his body even further, until his erection was with level with her lips. The young woman could smell his musky odour, and could almost taste his salty, yet pleasing flavour, as she parted her swollen lips to take him fully into her mouth. She started sucking slowly and gently, as she knew Draco liked while her tongue moved up and down, savouring the hot feel of his shaft.
In the meantime, the wizard was thrusting his pelvis rhythmically, being careful to not gag her with his urgent movements. Then, as he felt himself stiffen even more, he managed to say, in a soft groan, “Ahhh… Hermione, s-stop…”
She did. Looking at her husband with eyes still darkened by the burning need that the feel of him had awakened in her belly, she simply said, “Make love to me, Draco.”
Removing her bra, the only garment hiding her beautiful breasts from his eager sight, Draco lowered his head, until it was with level with one of her nipples. Taking it between his teeth, he nibbled at it lightly, applying the pressure he knew Hermione liked best. His next move was to position himself at her still wet entrance, while releasing her swollen flesh from his mouth in order to make eye contact with her. Their gazes locked for an endless moment, before Draco thrust his hips against hers forcefully, entering her in one stroke and causing the young woman’s head to fall back as the intense pleasure hit her.
Draco encircled Hermione’s back and waist with his strong arms, while she grasped his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. Then the wizard started moving, his rhythm already fast and hard, so great was the ache caused by the need to bury himself deep inside her.
Hermione brought both legs up around Draco’s hips, changing the angle of his strokes in an attempt to take more of him inside her small body. Her pelvis moved against his, harder with his every thrust while her mouth fell open, letting her moans fill the room, to her husband’s satisfaction.
Hearing her reaction to what he was doing to her, the young man disentangled himself from her completely, before powerfully thrusting into her once again, hitting a spot which made her pleasure increase greatly. Her eyes opened instantly with the strong sensation, searching Draco’s own. When their eyes met, Draco lowered his head, until they could both feel the other’s breath on their skin. He then continued moving strongly within her, going deeper and deeper, harder and harder, until he felt Hermione reach the apex of her arousal. As the power of her orgasm triggered his own, Draco bit his lower lip, shuddering with his release; even now, he was moving faster still, in an attempt to free himself from the pressure of her muscles imprisoning his cock. Only when every drop of his seed had spurted in her womb, did the wizard stop moving, falling on her upper body gently, as he tried not to crash her with his weight.
“I love you,” Hermione whispered in his ear. Draco’s arms rested around her protectively, while her hands stroked his hair and shoulders slowly.
“Me too,” he whispered back, tightening his hold on her.
*****
The moon shone over the Malfoys’ new manor home, piercing the darkness of the warm night with its dim light. All around, the countryside was silent and deserted.
Between the walls of the ancient construction, Draco was talking to six Death Eaters; his voice was gloomy, and his eyes were colder than ever. “Just four months. Then our beloved Lord will be done for, along with the rest of the scum in the Wizarding world”.
Draco had added a sleeping potion to the glass of milk Hermione usually drank before going to bed. He had then summoned the others in his study, sure that his wife wouldn’t notice a thing.
“How do you think we should act until then, Sir?” Alecto asked in a respectful voice.
“Just as we have during these past years; we will let him believe he’s still the one and obey his every command with no arguments,” Draco answered flatly.
“But what if he wants us to do something which could endanger our covers?” Gibbon intervened, worried they could all end up in Azkaban, as the others had.
“Don’t worry about that,” Malfoy said, smirking. “I will personally guarantee your safety during the attacks, should a dangerous situation occur.”
“Yes, Sir,” Gibbon answered curtly, bowing his head respectfully.
“So, have all the phases and details of the plan been defined?” inquired Avery from next to Gibbon.
“Yes, they have,” Draco said, putting his hands under his chin and looking straight to the one who had spoken. Then, directing his gaze to the other eight men, he concluded “You can go now. And remember: not a move until I say so. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” they answered in unison, before Disapparating form the manor.
Blaise looked at his friend for an instant, smiling maliciously at him in approval and victory. He then followed the other Death Eaters, vanishing before Draco’s evil eyes. Left alone in his study, the blond wizard breathed deeply, relishing in advance the power and the strength he would soon have.
Username: maria_elena_87
Rating NC-17
Summary: When nothing is as it seems, and love and freedom are denied… While a new kind of evil keeps the world under the horrors of its dominion, lives, dreams and hope shatter along blood stained ways… And Hermione Granger experiences it in the worst way possible.
Warnings: Angst, Violence
Genre: Drama
Author's Note: A big hug to Dacian_goddess who is betaing this story.
Forse non sarei
come sono adesso
forse non avrei
questa forza addosso
forse non saprei
neanche fare un passo
forse crollerei
scivolando in basso
invece tu sei qui
e mi hai dato tutto questo
e invece tu sei qui
mi hai rimesso al proprio posto
i più piccoli
pezzi della mia esistenza
componendoli
dando loro una coerenza
Max Pezzali - Il Mondo Insieme a Te
Maybe I wouldn’t be
Like I’m now
Maybe I wouldn’t be so strong
Maybe I wouldn’t be able
To take a step
Maybe I would collapse
Breaking down
But you are here
And you’ve given me all these things
But you are here
And you’ve put in place
The smallest
Pieces of my existence
Putting them together
Giving them a coherence
Max Pezzali - The World With You
The World With You
It was July; the N.E.W.T.s had come and gone for Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco and all seventh year students at Hogwarts. They were now ready to begin a new life, one on the outside of the castle that had been their home for so long. Hermione Granger had gotten the highest scores of the entire school; Draco Malfoy’s and others’, including Harry’s, had been among the higher scores. Ron had had a few difficulties with his exams, and had been on the brink of failing. Ultimately, he had managed to scrape together a handful of N.E.W.T.s, earning himself a stern scolding from Hermione for the negligence he had demonstrated towards his studies during the past years.
The morning of Draco and Hermione’s wedding dawned warm and clear. The atmosphere at the Burrow, however, was highly charged - so agitated, it was bordering on chaotic. Every occupant of the house radiated nervousness and anxiety because of the impending nuptials.
Hermione Granger had been at the Burrow since the end of the school year, much as she had the previous two summers. At the end of her fifth year, Hermione’s parents had been found dead in their house, countless bruises and wounds marring their bodies, and terrified expressions on their faces. The autopsy had revealed that the Grangers had been tortured for hours before being murdered, but the coroner hadn’t concluded which object had been used to inflict pain upon the victims, nor had he been able to define the cause of the death with absolute certainty.
The police had investigated and followed every lead they had, but nothing yielded results. It appeared that the Grangers’ case would remain unsolved for the time being. The only thing the investigators were sure of was that the dentists had been involved in illicit trafficking; these activities were believed to be at the base of their brutal homicide.
But Dumbledore and the Order knew better than that. When news of the Grangers’ deaths had reached their ears, everyone had immediately understood that the police had been wrong. Hermione’s parents had been killed by Death Eaters; and by the description of the wounds and markings that had perplexed the doctors, there was no doubt that the murders had been commissioned by Voldemort.
Hermione’s desperation at the news was beyond words; she had wept bitter tears of pain and rage, and her cries of fury had been deafening. Those monsters had taken her parents away from her. Never again would she see their smiles, or hear their voices, or hug and kiss them. Her family was gone, and nothing, no one, could give back what she had lost. The tragedy of Hermione’s loss had been aggravated by the insulting insinuations of the police, which had besmirched the Grangers’ names. Sure, in the Wizarding world, everyone knew the truth; but in the Muggle world, where they had lived their whole lives, the Grangers had been made into common criminals, whom everyone was grateful to be rid of. It was as though they had been killed twice over.
Harry, Ron and Ginny had not left their friend alone for even a second; they helped Hermione to free herself from the coils of deep pain she had gotten caught in, giving her a reason to go on, to live her life as her parents would have surely wanted.
“Ginny, please, would you just stop touching me everywhere? The dress is all right!” an exasperated Hermione said for the tenth time, looking through the large mirror at the younger witch behind her.
“This is the best day of your life, and you’re telling me to stop making you the most beautiful young woman in the whole Wizarding world?” Ginny asked disappointedly, returning her friend’s gaze, hands planted firmly on her hips.
“It’s getting late, Gin; I should already be downstairs, in the garden,” Hermione replied in a serious tone.
“Come on Hermione,“ the redhead answered, “this isn’t some lesson you need to attend. Besides, the bride has to be late on her wedding day! After all, the two of you will have the rest of your lives to be together, making, oh well, you know what…”
“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed, blushing slightly.
Smiling at Hermione’s reaction, the red-haired witch approached her, putting a simple garland on her head.
The young bride smiled back, while she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, this would be the best day of her life; the day when she would give her soul to the man she loved with all her heart, and whom she would live the rest of her life with.
*****
Three hours later, the few guests who had been invited to the ceremony, were talking to one another in the garden outside the Burrow, where the wedding had taken place.
Even if the Weasleys hadn’t been that trilled at the prospect of Hermione marrying Draco, they hadn’t denied her the support she needed on the most important day of her life. They had loved her since the first day they had known her, and the last two years they had spent with the witch had increased the affection they all felt towards her. The Weasleys had become Hermione’s family after her parents’ deaths, and they had wanted to do everything in their power to make her feel at home and safe. When she had returned from Hogwarts after the N.E.W.T.s, informing Arthur and Molly about her plans to marry Draco, they had forced themselves not to allow the prejudice they felt towards the Malfoys ruin Hermione’s happiness. After all, the blond wizard had sworn his loyalty to Dumbledore, and he and Hermione had been a couple for a year. The Weasleys thought Draco had to love her as much as she loved him, to ask her to become his wife.
Getting Ron, Ginny, and the twins to see things the same way had been somewhat more difficult. But, in the end, Molly and Arthur had succeeded in convincing their children that marrying Draco was what Hermione wanted, and they couldn’t stand in her way, however genuine their intentions were. So, a small ceremony had been organized at the Burrow, and few people had been invited at the feast, as per Hermione’s and Draco’s requests; they wanted to do something simple with the people they were closer to, and only Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Zabini, Harry and the Weasleys had been present.
Hermione sat on the step outside the Burrow’s front door, a relaxed smile on her lips, and thousands of thoughts flittering through her mind. It had been the most joyous day she had had in a long time, and she still couldn’t believe she was now Draco’s wife. A warm breeze grazed her porcelain skin and brown hair; it made the silk white dress she wore tickle her shins, and caused her soft curls to caress the sides of her face.
“Hey, Hermione,” called a voice from next to her.
Turning her head, she smiled in greeting to the person who had spoken. “Hi, Harry.”
“How do you feel?” he asked, sitting next to her.
“Happy,” she answered simply, looking her friend in the eyes.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Harry said, “We won’t see one another as often as we used to, from now on.” His voice held a hint of sadness while he spoke, and his gaze went to Ron and Ginny, who were laughing at one of Fred and George’s jokes.
“I know; but I want to see a lot of you in the future, so don’t think you’ll get rid of me that easily,” Hermione replied, playfully hitting Harry on the elbow.
Her friend just bowed his head, replying in a softer tone, “Take care of yourself; and, if you have any problems, just come to me, and I’ll do anything in my power to help you.”
“I’ll be fine, Harry,” Hermione answered slowly. “Draco loves me; he will take care of me. You don’t have to worry about it.” She had understood what her friend was talking about, and she knew it was still difficult for him to accept the bond between her and Draco; but she was also sure that time would prove to everyone what a great person her husband really was.
The two friends embraced each other, relishing that moment of quiet and serenity. Harry only hoped with all his being that the negative presentiments he had were only be a product of his mind.
Well away from everyone else, Draco and Blaise were talking quietly, masking the weight of the words they were exchanging under the guise of a friendly conversation.
“How do you think the others will react at the news that their Master has a Muggle-born wife?” the black-haired wizard asked Draco, looking straight at his best friend. He had become a Death Eater the same day Draco had, and he had always supported every decision Draco had made, even the one to eliminate Voldemort to take his place. But Zabini had been disgusted at the news of that relationship, as well as by Draco’s marriage. Granger was just a worthless Mudblood; she may have been a decent shag, but she didn’t have the right to be the Dark Lord’s wife…she was worthless, dirt.
“They will say and do nothing; as you’ve just put it, I’m their Master, and I’ve the right to do whatever I want,” Draco answered, returning his best friend’s gaze. “After all, my followers will have the right to bed all the Mudblood sluts they want, after our victory. And what do you think our beloved Tom Riddle is, hmm? He’s half Muggle-born as well, and some have followed him all their lives. So no one will raise any questions of my marriage with Hermione. ”
Smiling maliciously, Blaise added, “How do you think Granger will react, once she discovers that her husband is, in fact, the darkest wizard of this world?”
“She will do absolutely nothing,” the blond answered slowly, emphasising each word. “She is mine now, body and soul, and I can assure you, I will let her go nowhere. She will have no other choice than to obey my orders.” Draco’s voice had become a deranged whisper on those last few words.
“If you put it that way, congratulations on your marriage, then,” Blaise retorted, not wanting further anger his best friend and future Lord. After all, why should he mind? Draco was the one who had to touch that filth and bear her presence night and day. Plus, the little Gryffindor was unknowingly giving Draco the ardour to follow his projects with more resolution and determination; seeing that he too would benefit from that influence with a higher place in Draco’s ranks, Blaise could only see that as a positive thing.
Nodding imperceptibly, Malfoy just said, “Remember this night.”
“You know I will,” Blaise replied with an evil smirk on his face, which contorted his features demonically.
*****
That evening, Draco sat in his study, in an ancient manor property of his family, where he and his wife would reside from then on. He was attentively perusing the Daily Prophet, fixing his gaze on every detail that might have seemed insignificant at first sight. The wizard was trying to find traces of a possible lead the Aurors were following to catch Voldemort; but there was nothing in the newspaper that could make him believe such a thing. That was good; it meant he still had a lot of time to perfectly organize his every move.
The light noise of a doorknob turning, made the young man raise his head from the desk, bringing a smiling Hermione into his line of sight.
“May I enter?” she asked softly.
“Of course you may,” he answered, gesturing for her to go to him.
The witch crossed the space separating her from her husband and, once she neared the wooden table, she spoke again, “What are you doing?”
“I’ve just finished reading the Prophet,” he said, taking hold of her hand with one of his, and grabbing her gently by the waist with the other. “Come here,” he whispered, pulling her on his lap.
They looked at each other for a few seconds before Hermione leaned into him, brushing his lips with hers. Draco responded to her gesture by cupping the sides of her face, pressing his mouth over hers firmly, yet gently all the same.
The young woman put her arms around his neck, parting her lips to give him more access, which her husband welcomed by slipping his tongue in her warm cavity, stroking her tongue slowly with his own, while his hands released her cheeks to rest on her soft breasts.
Hermione moaned imperceptibly in his mouth, taken by the sudden sensation of his fingers on her sensitive skin. As she grinded her hips against his instinctively, she felt something press on her lower abdomen. Excited by his hardness pressing against her, she broke the kiss with a breathless moan. “Draco…”
“I know,” was all he answered before rising from his seat, taking his wife in his arms. Then, he made his way towards the large sofa at the side of the room, laying her down slowly before settling atop her. Fixing her honey eyes with his grey ones, he started unfastening her white nightgown, while Hermione did the same with his green silk pyjamas. Although she had done it hundreds of times in the past, she couldn’t prevent her cheeks from blushing, giving her porcelain skin a rosy colour.
Noticing that detail, Draco leaned into her for another kiss, overpowered by the arousing sight of her flushed face: she was even more beautiful like that. This time however, the dance of their tongues wasn’t as delicate as it had been before; now they were kissing with passion and ardour, and the movements of their hands quickened as they tried to free each other from their clothes.
Suddenly, they were only in their underwear. Hermione started licking and nibbling on Draco’s chest while he slipped his hand under her knickers, massaging her where he knew she liked him to and applying the pressure and the rhythm that would make her see stars. His fingers grazed at the curls hiding her femininity, before going lower, avoiding her most sensitive spot purposely and teasing her, instead.
Hermione shivered. Draco’s touch never failed to make her feel like she was on fire, and his teasing ministrations had always been a powerful turn on. So, while placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along his small nipples, collarbone, neck and earlobe, she whispered, “Please, Draco…”
He smiled triumphantly, satisfied by the way her body reacted to him, as though he was her world and universe. Complying with her wishes, the wizard started caressing her where she needed it most, moving his palm up and down again and again, until the copious moisture pouring from her let him know she was ready for him. But Draco didn’t want it to be over so soon; even though he was aching for her, he wanted to relish their first night as a married couple to the slightest detail.
Gently tugging on her knickers, he slid them slowly down her thighs and knees, before finally removing the small garment completely. After kissing her mouth again, Draco lowered his head slowly, teasing the warm skin of her upper body with his hot breath before burying his face in the wetness of her arousal. There, he licked and nibbled while his hands grasped her backside, giving him better access to her most secret place.
“Ohhh… Draco… more…” Hermione moaned breathlessly, thrusting her pelvis against the young man’s mouth, in an attempt to bring his tongue inside her aching centre.
Her husband needed no further encouragements. Tightening his grip on her, he complied with her demand, moving his tongue in and out of her, harder and faster every time. There was nothing he found more intimate and arousing than the smell and the taste of her delectable essence.
Hermione had now entangled her fingers in her husband silky hair, caressing the soft tresses the way she knew he found highly erotic. Her hips rose again and again, higher and more forcefully each time, burying Draco’s tongue even deeper inside her. Her eyes were closed, and her head turned restlessly from side to side, while the first tremors of her forceful orgasm hit her, making her scream the young man’s name over and over before her erratic breathing turned her cries into moans, and finally whispers.
Draco raised his head to look at her face contorting with the bliss he had been the first to give her; he liked that sight, too. Raising his body with level with hers, he whispered, “Kiss me.”
She didn’t need him to ask twice; licking his lips, still moist with her juices, she slipped her tongue in his mouth. He tasted of her essence, but she didn’t mind it. The mixed flavour of his saliva and her essence were the most exquisite thing she had ever tasted, and she could have kissed him again and again without stopping, if she hadn’t felt his hardness pressing heavily against her naked skin. Breaking their kiss, she looked at her husband questioningly, as though to ask if he wanted her to do something for him.
Draco’s eyes held a need and desperation she knew very well, and his voice was broken with lust as he said, “Take me in your mouth, Hermione.”
She simply nodded, while he freed himself form his pants, raising his body even further, until his erection was with level with her lips. The young woman could smell his musky odour, and could almost taste his salty, yet pleasing flavour, as she parted her swollen lips to take him fully into her mouth. She started sucking slowly and gently, as she knew Draco liked while her tongue moved up and down, savouring the hot feel of his shaft.
In the meantime, the wizard was thrusting his pelvis rhythmically, being careful to not gag her with his urgent movements. Then, as he felt himself stiffen even more, he managed to say, in a soft groan, “Ahhh… Hermione, s-stop…”
She did. Looking at her husband with eyes still darkened by the burning need that the feel of him had awakened in her belly, she simply said, “Make love to me, Draco.”
Removing her bra, the only garment hiding her beautiful breasts from his eager sight, Draco lowered his head, until it was with level with one of her nipples. Taking it between his teeth, he nibbled at it lightly, applying the pressure he knew Hermione liked best. His next move was to position himself at her still wet entrance, while releasing her swollen flesh from his mouth in order to make eye contact with her. Their gazes locked for an endless moment, before Draco thrust his hips against hers forcefully, entering her in one stroke and causing the young woman’s head to fall back as the intense pleasure hit her.
Draco encircled Hermione’s back and waist with his strong arms, while she grasped his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. Then the wizard started moving, his rhythm already fast and hard, so great was the ache caused by the need to bury himself deep inside her.
Hermione brought both legs up around Draco’s hips, changing the angle of his strokes in an attempt to take more of him inside her small body. Her pelvis moved against his, harder with his every thrust while her mouth fell open, letting her moans fill the room, to her husband’s satisfaction.
Hearing her reaction to what he was doing to her, the young man disentangled himself from her completely, before powerfully thrusting into her once again, hitting a spot which made her pleasure increase greatly. Her eyes opened instantly with the strong sensation, searching Draco’s own. When their eyes met, Draco lowered his head, until they could both feel the other’s breath on their skin. He then continued moving strongly within her, going deeper and deeper, harder and harder, until he felt Hermione reach the apex of her arousal. As the power of her orgasm triggered his own, Draco bit his lower lip, shuddering with his release; even now, he was moving faster still, in an attempt to free himself from the pressure of her muscles imprisoning his cock. Only when every drop of his seed had spurted in her womb, did the wizard stop moving, falling on her upper body gently, as he tried not to crash her with his weight.
“I love you,” Hermione whispered in his ear. Draco’s arms rested around her protectively, while her hands stroked his hair and shoulders slowly.
“Me too,” he whispered back, tightening his hold on her.
*****
The moon shone over the Malfoys’ new manor home, piercing the darkness of the warm night with its dim light. All around, the countryside was silent and deserted.
Between the walls of the ancient construction, Draco was talking to six Death Eaters; his voice was gloomy, and his eyes were colder than ever. “Just four months. Then our beloved Lord will be done for, along with the rest of the scum in the Wizarding world”.
Draco had added a sleeping potion to the glass of milk Hermione usually drank before going to bed. He had then summoned the others in his study, sure that his wife wouldn’t notice a thing.
“How do you think we should act until then, Sir?” Alecto asked in a respectful voice.
“Just as we have during these past years; we will let him believe he’s still the one and obey his every command with no arguments,” Draco answered flatly.
“But what if he wants us to do something which could endanger our covers?” Gibbon intervened, worried they could all end up in Azkaban, as the others had.
“Don’t worry about that,” Malfoy said, smirking. “I will personally guarantee your safety during the attacks, should a dangerous situation occur.”
“Yes, Sir,” Gibbon answered curtly, bowing his head respectfully.
“So, have all the phases and details of the plan been defined?” inquired Avery from next to Gibbon.
“Yes, they have,” Draco said, putting his hands under his chin and looking straight to the one who had spoken. Then, directing his gaze to the other eight men, he concluded “You can go now. And remember: not a move until I say so. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” they answered in unison, before Disapparating form the manor.
Blaise looked at his friend for an instant, smiling maliciously at him in approval and victory. He then followed the other Death Eaters, vanishing before Draco’s evil eyes. Left alone in his study, the blond wizard breathed deeply, relishing in advance the power and the strength he would soon have.