The Serpent Chapter 16
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.
The Serpent
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Chapter 16
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Without waiting for a reply to his question, Draco crossed the room, tossed a folder on Hermione's desk, and turned on his heel to walk back out. "My apologies for interrupting," he sneered. "I did knock, but evidently you were too busy to notice."
Hermione's brain finally caught up with her just as he was out of sight. She pushed against Harry and stepped back. He dropped his arms, granting her freedom. "I'm sorry," she whispered, glancing once at his pale face before turning and running after Draco.
Merlin, the man could walk fast! He was already down the opposite end of the corridor, heading for the elevators. "Malfoy, wait!" she called out to him. She tried to appear casual as she practically ran to catch him before the doors closed, nodding to curious passers-by in the corridor.
Throwing an annoyed look at her over his shoulder, he entered the lift and jammed his hand over the control panel without waiting for her. Cursing at him under her breath, she gave up the pretence of casualness and outright sprinted to stop the doors from closing. With a little jump, she managed to wiggle her way into the small lift just before the doors shut.
Breathing hard, she couldn't help a triumphant smile as she demurely smoothed her skirt and turned to look at the only other occupant. Malfoy watched her with icy detachment, his lips pressed in displeasure and his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. Obviously, he wasn't happy his escape hadn't quite worked out the way he'd planned it.
"Didn't you hear me?" she asked, careful not to let her nervousness show.
"I did."
"Then why didn't you wait?" Hermione felt her eye twitch. This man was impossible when he was in one of his black moods.
Malfoy's brows lifted mockingly. "Why should I? As far as I know, we have nothing to discuss, especially as you've given up 'The Serpent's' case."
Gritting her teeth against a hot-mouthed retort, Hermione tried to keep her tone conciliatory. "I wanted to apologise for what you walked in on. It wasn't what it look-"
"Oh, spare me the lies, Granger," he snapped, suddenly furious. "I think it was pretty self-explanatory what I walked in on. You were kissing Potter, end of story."
"No, he was kissing me."
"Semantics. You were lip-locked for a while before you noticed me." He gave her a cruel smirk. "I don't understand why you felt the need to come after me, though, to offer explanations. I don't want or need them, and I'm honestly surprised you bothered. It's not as if I care who you decide to fuck in your office." He crudely eyed her up and down. "Although, given how much press you generate, I'd have expected better sense of you regarding fraternizing with colleagues, especially during regular office hours. What if someone other than me had seen you, Ms. Deputy Head? Wouldn't the gossips just love to know that their years of backhanded whispers about you and Potter are actually true?"
Flushing in indignation, Hermione pinned him with a hard stare. "Don't be such a bloody hypocrite, Malfoy. I've seen you in a much more compromising position, remember? It wouldn't be any better for your reputation if it got out that you shag your way through your pool of eligible pure-blood secretaries, either."
He lost his fake smile, and glared back at her. "Are you threatening me?" he demanded with a hiss, taking a menacing step toward her.
Hands on her hips, she didn't cower in the face of his ire. Instead, she straightened her spine and fixed him with a cold look. "Doesn't feel good, does it?" she challenged, pointedly ignoring his threat. "You have some nerve! You stand here all high and mighty, acting affronted and lecturing me on the merits of professionalism in the workplace when we both know what you saw meant nothing!"
"Oh, so now 'it meant nothing'. What happened to 'it's not what it looked like'?" he asked mockingly.
"It wasn't what it looked like - I didn't initiate that kiss, I didn't ask for it, it happened. And for the record, it didn't cause me to want to drop my knickers on the spot, as you so crudely insinuated. Harry and I are only friends, and that's all we'll ever be on my side of things." She stopped, realising what she was doing (was she really explaining herself to him, of all people?), and reversed course with a negligent wave of a hand. "But you're right, Malfoy: this is none of your business, and I don't need to explain myself, my thoughts, or my actions, least of all to you."
With that, she turned her back to him, viciously pressing the button to hurry them to whichever floor was their final destination, and remained silent. Behind her, she could feel Draco's stare like a weight between her shoulder blades.
Once the heavy doors opened, Hermione stepped out the elevator and walked away with head held high, all the while looking for the nearest loo so she could go have a good, frustrated cry in private.
*.*.*.*.*
"Mew."
Hermione absentmindedly rubbed her cat's belly, eyes unfocused as she stared in a dumb-stupor at her telly. It was nearing midnight, and sleep still eluded her.
Today had been a very stressful day. It had only taken an hour for news of her "romance" with Harry to spread throughout the Ministry (all those nosy passers-by in the corridor had probably started gossiping the minute they'd seen Harry follow her out of her office and chase her down the hall, putting two-and-two together after noticing her red lipstick all over his mouth). Her avoidance of her best friend after that all afternoon was just as incriminating, she was sure.
By the time she'd left for the day, the Evening Prophet's Pink Section had been filled with articles about her supposed history with Harry - when they'd begun seeing each other (in secret, of course), quotes taken from people she'd never actually met in her life on how the two of them gave lingering looks throughout the Ministry hallways all the time, veiled accusation that it had been Harry's reputation that had launched Hermione's successful bid for the Deputy Head position, speculation on how Ron and Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys would take the news of 'the betrayal', and a spread with pictures of her and Harry (dubbed 'The Golden Couple') spanning from their first year of Hogwarts to a lunch date they'd had two days ago (she was quick to note that Ron, who had also been there for lunch, was suspiciously missing from the photo, doctored out).
On top of all the rumours flying around, people had actually had the gall to walk up to her and ask inappropriate questions about her relationship with their boss/co-worker/The Chosen One/etc. And Ron had been no help, uncomfortably telling her she'd need to speak with Harry directly to clear things up.
The most nerve-wracking thing of all, however, was worrying about Ginny's reaction.
Hermione's first act when she'd entered her flat tonight was to telephone her friend. Half an hour later and thirty-seven unanswered calls, she'd given up. Clearly, Gin had heard the news and wouldn't allow her the chance just yet to rebut. She knew after her friend calmed down, she'd demand an explanation from her directly, but until then, Hermione had to stew in her guilt and sadness alone.
Feeling tears threatening to spill - again (hadn't she cried enough after the showdown with Malfoy?), she rubbed her eyes angrily.
Why, oh why, had Harry kissed her? What had he hoped to achieve by doing so, aside from hurting a lot of people - himself and her, included?
Stifling a sob, she gathered the softly mewing Crookshanks in her arms and hid her face in his fur. The part-Kneazle, perhaps sensing its mistress' distress, licked her face and nuzzled against her bosom.
The abrupt ringing of her phone caused both human and cat to jump. Not bothering to wipe the few tears that had leaked from her eyes, she reached out and grabbed her cordless phone. Before hitting the answer button, she cleared her throat; whoever was calling, she didn't want them to know she had been crying.
"Hello?"
"Is it true?"
Hermione sat up straighter, recognising the voice. A flutter of nervousness unsettled her stomach. "H-hello."
"Don't make me repeat my questions, my Lioness, not tonight."
'The Serpent' sounded enraged, which was a first. Every other time they had talked, he was either flirting with her, or teasing her.
"So, you've seen the papers, and plan to interrogate me, too. All right then, to which overly-sensationalised accusation are you referring?" she asked. "I want to be sure I answer properly."
Who did he think he was?
"Don't play coy. Did you or did you not kiss Harry fucking Potter?" he snarled, and a loud, meaty bang sounded from his end. He'd slammed his palm down onto something hard, obviously.
"I'll tell you when I've told everyone: he kissed me."
"You allowed it-"
"Of course I allowed it!" she snapped, outraged. "Not only is he my best friend and I had to take into account his feelings, but Harry is a good man. Before I irrevocably broke his heart, I had to consider if a relationship with him was possible! I had to at least allow myself the chance to think this through, before deciding to deny him."
"Why?" he roared. "You know he'll never give you what you want! You know he's even more wrong for you than his red-headed sidekick was! How can you possibly contemplate a relationship with Potter?"
"What's it to you?" she screamed, losing what little control she had over her emotions. Her day had been trying enough, but now this?
She jumped to her feet, Crooks ran for his favourite hiding spot under her bed, and she let loose all of the pent up anger she'd been holding back all afternoon.
"For God's sake, I don't even know your real name, so who are you to demand I not see other men and save myself only for you - especially when you're completely persona non grata to the rest of the law-abiding world?"
She began pacing back and forth, furious at herself, at him, at Harry, at the unfairness of the world. It all spilled from her mouth, a volcano of emotion erupting at long last.
"What part of 'you are currently being hunted by the best Aurors in the country' don't you understand? You're not just considered a petty criminal any longer. The Minister wants you brought in on a leash and he intends to throw whatever manpower he has at you to run you to ground." She choked on another sob, forcing herself to continue. "I'm not on your case anymore, but I'll be Deputy Head of the entire MLE starting next week. Do you understand what I'm saying? I'll be the one ultimately responsible for your prosecution. Someday, perhaps in a year or ten, you are going to be caught, and I can't... I'll have to do my job! I'll have to put you away."
Lord, this was hard. The weight of this bizarre, unexpected attraction was such a heavy burden to bear that Hermione wasn't sure her shoulders could lift anymore. 'The Serpent' had opened her eyes to all the possibilities that called to the woman buried deep within her soul-to the part of her that craved excitement, abandonment, and sought that elusive once-in-a-lifetime romance-but now... now she had to shut that door and give it all up, or she'd be buried along with him when he was brought to justice.
She'd been through a lot of difficult experiences in her short life-the war and its losses, the death of her father to cancer not too long ago, Ron and her deciding they weren't right for each other and mutually agreeing to split-but letting go of this man and the dream he'd represented ranked right up there alongside the worst pain she'd ever known.
"Do you want me?" he asked, softly, his voice trembling.
"Yes," she admitted in a pained whisper. "I want you so much I can't breathe or think straight some days... but I can't keep doing what we're doing. Not only is it illegal, but it's meaningless." Slumping down into a nearby cosy chair, she began crying in earnest now. The hand over her eyes became drenched by her tears. "In the end, we... we can never have this... this dream. We have no future."
Silence greeted her pronouncement, and Hermione felt her heart breaking in two at his inability to either accept or deny her claim.
Lingering between choices was never her style. She was the type to need a fast resolution, so she took the decision from him and made it herself.
"You're a fantasy, my Serpent, a wish and a dream. What I need... is someone solid who will be here every day. Someone with a face I can see and a name I can say aloud. I can't have that with you. So, please... please don't contract me again."
"Hermione..."
"Goodbye."
She hung up, tossed the phone onto a side table, and curled up into a ball in the chair. She wept into the corduroy-upholstered cushion until she exhausted herself, and fell asleep with tears staining her cheeks.
*.*.*.*.*
"Shh, my Lioness, don't cry. I'm here."
Soft, familiar hands caressed Hermione's face, softly wiping her tears and tucking her unruly hair back behind her ears. She whimpered in her sleep as a solid, male body slid into her bed with her.
When had he arrived? When had she moved to her bed?
His hands, so careful with her, encircled her and brought her closer to his warm body. He buried his face in her hair, nuzzling her.
"I'm sorry, my love. Forgive me. I always seem to hurt you, even when I don't mean to." He caressed a path down her waist, over her hip, and began to massage the small of her back with one hand. His touch was that of a lover's, intimate, yet it lacked lust. It wasn't meant to stir desire, but to soothe and calm.
"I didn't want to kiss him," Hermione murmured against his chest, explaining her position once again, just so he'd understand and accept it. "But I didn't want to hurt him, either. He's my best friend."
"I know, baby. Merlin, I know."
He hugged her tighter, crooning a soft lullaby to her. His voice was deep, but melodic and soothing.
"Mm," she hummed, pressing her nose to his throat and smelling his heady, clean scent. He felt so real. "Not fighting with you for a change is nice."
A quiet chuckle. "Yes, it is, isn't it?"
"Hmm," she answered, placing her hand on his chest and feeling his heart beating strong, steady.
"I know you, Granger. This isn't just about us or that blasted kiss. There's something... no, someone else who's hurt you. Who was it? Tell me."
"I don't want to talk about it," she admitted, petulantly scrunching up her nose and remembering her fight in the elevator with a certain blond prosecutor.
"Please, tell me." He kissed her neck and traced a finger around her bellybutton, making her shiver, attempting to coerce an answer from her with a seductive grace that was beginning to leave her breathless.
She sighed, blinking sleepily up at him. Her sight was blurry, and the inky darkness of her room didn't help her, but she could swear he was not wearing his mask.
"It was him
," she told him.
"Him? Him, who?"
"It's always him, isn't it?" she mumbled to herself.
"Who is it? Tell me, lovely, and I'll deal with him," her thief promised.
"No, don't hurt him! He's a git, but he doesn't deserve being physically pummelled... even if there are times I want to do that, too."
"Tell me his name. I promise not to hurt him, but I want to know who he is and what he did to upset you so."
Perhaps she could tell him her secret - risk it, see where it took them... see if he'd confess, too. "His name is Draco Malfoy. We used to go to school together, and now we work together in MLE. And everything he does upsets me - always has. I thought, however, that we were becoming... friends, of a sort. After today, though, I'm not so sure it wasn't all in my head."
Her thief stayed strangely quiet as she wiggled closer to him.
"Draco told me- He implied- He thinks I'm shagging Harry. He said people think I'm doing it to extort favours and promote my career." Tears leaked from her eyes, and she didn't bother to cloak the pain in her voice as she confessed.
"Lioness, people will always talk. There's no need to be upset by their... foolishness, especially when they're... jealous."
"He's not just some random co-worker or a stranger. It's... different with him."
"Why?"
"Because I like him," she finally murmured, hiding her face in his chest, hoping she wasn't making a mistake by telling him. "I like him in a way I shouldn't."
"You... like... Draco Malfoy."
Mutely, she nodded.
"He's been nothing but a horrible git to you!"
She played along, as clearly he wasn't ready to admit anything yet. "I know he has. Believe me, I do! I don't why I feel this for him, but I do... and I don't want to like him, or dream of him, or hurt whenever I see him with other women but I do! And I hate myself for it!"
One of his hands trailed up her back to tangle in her hair, and he pulled back her head to expose her plump lips. Carefully, lovingly he touched them with his own, but didn't kiss her. Although it was too dark to see his features clearly, she envisioned his silvery, wondering gaze would be locked on hers, holding her captive, as it always did.
"Have you ever thought that he might like you back?" he asked, lips brushing against hers with every word.
Hermione gave a sigh of disbelief. "Draco only dates women like Astoria. I'm nowhere near that pretty."
"You're not pretty, no. You're beautiful."
Before she could rebuke his statement, he captured her lips in a kiss so sweet that her insides flip-flopped. Fiercely, joyfully, Hermione entangled her fingers in his hair and delighted in the knowledge that she'd been right: he'd worn no mask tonight. He'd come to her without it, having heard her despair earlier on the phone about his hidden identity. Clearly, he was not yet ready to reveal all, but this was a start.
She relished the silky feeling of his hair sliding through her hands, sighing in pleasure as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, tasting her. Their kiss very soon ignited that familiar heat between them, and she whimpered for more, arching her back in a silent cue for him to take them higher.
Message received, he grabbed the back of her knee and pulled it up and around his hips, wedging his wide body between her thighs. His erection was solid and straining against her core, eager to be set free. She rolled her hips, sliding against that hard, thick shaft, desperate to feel it pumping in and out of her, filling her with spurt after spurt of hot come.
Breathing ragged and shallow, she scraped his scalp with her nails and growled like a lioness seeking satisfaction. Her lover gasped in pleasure at her reaction, and his hips involuntarily thrust against the apex of her legs.
"Gods, I think we should stop," he said, panting. His hips continued to move, though, denying the words coming out of his mouth.
Hermione turned her attention to the pulse in his throat, sucking over it. She whined in the negative and bit him-not too hard, but with enough pressure to get his attention-when his hold on her slackened as if to release her.
'The Serpent' took slow measured breathes, clearly trying to regain control. He caressed her hair, easing her body back from his, canting his hips away from temptation. "My love, you're tired and emotionally vulnerable right now, and no matter how much I want you, I won't take advantage. You... you mean too much to me."
"But I want this," she mewed, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. "I want you. I need it."
'I know you do. I do as well. We both need this. Tomorrow, though... tomorrow you'll regret it, and then I'll regret it, too. I don't want that, do you?"
Damn him, he made a good, logical argument! Still, her body ached, needing fulfilment. "No sex, then, but... please, don't leave me wanting like this. I need... release."
Shakily, he nodded. "No rubbing against me, though, and no touching me. I don't want to be tempted and forget myself in the moment. Deal?"
Hastily, she agreed. She'd have given him anything right then to have him bring her to climax.
He rolled her onto her back and came over her, unbuttoning her pyjama top. When he reached the last button, the edges were gently pried apart, revealing her naked breasts. Her lover wasted no time in reaching for them, rolling them against his warm palms and plucking her sensitive nipples. Hermione tossed her head back on her pillow, arched her spine to give him better access, and moaned as he gave her tender breasts the attention of his fingers, mouth, teeth, and tongue.
Heat swallowed her, dragging her under waves of intense pleasure. Common sense abandoned her, her earlier declarations over the phone forgotten as her Serpent took her once more to that realm where reason was lost and feeling was everything.
As he licked and nibbled her flesh, she imagined reaching for him, freeing his cock, letting it spill into her hand. She fantasized it slick with his desire, the head engorged with blood and the need to come.
"I want to suck you," she admitted, closing her eyes and letting the vision take over. "Take you deep into my mouth and make you lose control like you make me. I want to taste your orgasm across my tongue."
Her lover groaned. "You will do that for me soon, and so much more, Hermione." He licked her nipple, giving it a playful, wet bath. "Just like that night, you're going to give yourself to me again - total and complete surrender. I'll own your pleasure and your pain, and I'll bring you to such heights that you'll never come down. We'll give each other everything, my love. You'll see..." His fingers playfully trailed down her sides to her pyjama bottoms, sliding them over her hips and pulling them down to her knees. Her knickers followed... and then his hand was there, cupping her wet core, his tricky fingers slipping through her slit and playing with her curls. "Fuck," he whispered in awe, circling her clit. "You're so ready for me."
"Yes," she mewled, clawing at the sheets to keep from reaching for him, as he'd asked. She titled her hips up, fucking herself on two of his fingers, which slid deep within her silken channel. "Please, more!"
His head dipped, his mouth went low, and then he was sucking on her damp, hot flesh, tasting her essence. His fingers established an in and out rhythm, twisting and curling at just the right places inside to make her heart pound. Licking, flicking, he teased her with his tongue, seducing away all of her anxieties, allowing her to forget for a few moments that anything but what he was doing to her existed. He became her whole world in those long, drawn-out minutes, bringing her body to a shining, shuddering climax that wiped away all her concerns and made her cry with joy.
As she lay still in the afterglow, the despair she'd felt earlier was replaced by a sated, warm serenity that made her feel lazy and sleepy. She hardly noticed as her conscientious lover returned her clothing to a state of decency, or when he pulled the covers up to her chin, tucking her in.
She turned onto her right side, her favourite sleeping position, and the bed dipped as 'The Serpent' settled behind her, her back to his front.
"Sleep, my Lioness. You need your rest."
Huffing, she wiggled her bottom against his iron-hard erection, hoping to change his mind and go for another round in a bit.
His honest laughter stirred the hair on her nape and made her feel a spark of joy inside and out.
"Won't work," he whispered in her ear. "I have more self-restraint than your exes - something you'll find out soon enough."
"Meanie," she accused, eyes heavy, already drooping.
A kiss was pressed over her pulse point.
"Unfortunately, on occasion, I do bite," he admitted. "I've a deplorable disposition at times. You know that well, though, don't you, my Lioness? Know it, forgive me for it, and... like me... despite it."
Too tired to reply, she grunted.
The last thing she heard before sleep claimed her was his regretful sigh and his whisper:
"I don't deserve you, I know, but I'll be damned if I'll give you up to Potter."
*.*.*.*.*
Hermione woke up with a smile on her face.
Her dream had been the perfect balm to her sadness, and today she felt rejuvenated - and determined. She was a Gryffindor, and cowardliness was not part of her character traits. Today was a new day, and she'd deal with all her problems instead of running away and crying.
She constructed a mental list that would help her:
Take a shower
Have breakfast
Call Ginny and if she doesn't answer, send her a Howler. That's sure to get her attention
Get ready for work & GO (no avoidance!)
Accost Harry in his office, and confront him about yesterday
Figure out the Malfoy issue - wing it (you're good at that)
Meet Ginny for lunch, or hunt the stubborn woman down and explain things to her while she hangs upside down
Yes, her list was perfect. Now all she had to do was get her lazy arse out of bed and start her day. Yawning, she stretched her limbs and-
Her hand brushed up against something foreign, unexpected, and rather... cardboard-like.
She glanced over at the pillow next to hers, where Crooks usually slept. He wasn't there, and there wasn't an indent in the downy surface to indicate he'd slept there all night. Instead, there was a white note card, the paper stiff and obviously expensive.
With dawning horror, she gingerly picked it up and flipped it open.
When you sleep, you look less like a lioness, and more like an angel.
I'll see you soon, my love. Wait for me... please.
It hadn't been a dream at all, had it? He'd really come to her and he'd... his mouth... her parts... She squirmed, realising she was a bit sticky between her thighs.
Mortified, she slapped a hand over her face.
Merlin, Circe, and Morgana, he'd been right about morning-after regrets, hadn't he? Being in her own bed, however, meant at least she didn't have to do the 'walk of shame'. At least there was that small saving grace.
She revised her mental list:
Call in sick to work - claim a 'mental health' day
Take a shower
Have breakfast
Call Anthony to come over and check your wards - tell him you were concerned that someone might have broken in last night, because of the way your cat is acting (which is true... and omission is not, technically, a lie - so stop feeling badly about it!)
Call Ginny and if she doesn't answer, send her a Howler. That should make her angry enough to storm the castle for a confrontation
Send Harry a note about yesterday - explain your position (you're better at writing anyway)
Avoid Malfoy at all costs (you're good at that, too)
Hunt Ginny down (because really, you know she won't come find you, especially after embarrassing her with a Howler)
It was going to be one of those days, it seemed.