The Serpent Chapter 24

Feb 08, 2015 15:16


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.

A/N: If you've read 'The Serpent' in livejournal, you will notice that from now on, the story greatly differs; due to its length, it was taking too long to post it - as stated in the Prologue, RZZMG took it upon herself to second beta the story, - and the other participants were getting impatient for the reveals, so they could post their work in other sites. RZZMG, by permission, rewrote the last several chapters, tying up all loose ends, so she could finish posting it sooner rather than later. I highly recommend going to livejournal to read that version; it's great.

PS: I'm so sorry about the long wait; first there were the holidays, then I had to study for my exams, and work at the same time, so I had to take a step back from fanfiction for a few weeks. My exams are almost over (only another week!), so when they are officially done, I can return to posting the final chapters. I think the next update will be... around next Sunday? If I manage it, I will post earlier, but I doubt it.

The Serpent

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Chapter 24

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Anthony's note was short and to the point. Hermione could tell he was upset when he'd written it.

The Serpent hit Malfoy Manor.

Her evening before the telly interrupted, Hermione cursed and threw the note into her fireplace, watching it shrivel and burn with a scowl fixed on her face.

So what? She wasn't on the case anymore, and she was becoming tired of being dragged into it. It was good that Anthony felt the need to keep her appraised as a higher up in M.L.E. now, but in this moment, she just wished the whole mess would go the way of the dinosaur. She had enough on her plate in regards to Malfoy at the moment.

She was almost a hundred percent positive now that the thief was Malfoy, but her logical mind still threw doubts at her; she could have ignored it, and go with gut instinct, but the facts remained.

My lovely.

That's how he called her; the same endearment scripted in the ribbon, Draco had used to wrap around the gift he left her in his night stand. What were the chances of him using the same endearment in regards to her, with 'The Serpent'?

But was the use of an endearment, a common one, enough proof that Draco was 'The Serpent'?

And wasn't it possible, that she was projecting her desires, ashamed of being attracted to two different men? She had done it before, with Draco, and the man from S&M.

He is the man from S&M!

Yes, but could he be 'The Serpent' as well? What are the chances?

Slim to none.

Yet, everything pointed out to Malfoy being the thief; their manner, the way they spoke, their possessiveness in regards to her, his connections to all previous victims of the thief.

It just fit.

But he was in the Gallerie when 'The Serpent' accost you in the roof.

Well, there was that.

Remember, 'The Serpent' might possibly be two men; what if the other one Polyjuiced as him, so Draco could be up there with you?

Merlin, this was enough to drive any sane person up the wall!

By if Draco was 'The Serpent', the question still remained: why was he thieving at all? What was he hoping to achieve by putting his career-his entire future-in jeopardy, by playing at Robin Hood?

Also, why would he filch from his own house?

Well, at least that last had an obvious answer: distraction. If Draco appeared to be a victim of 'The Serpent', too, it would throw suspicion off of him. "A slight-of-hand," she muttered, plopping back down into the cushions of her sofa. She sighed and threw an arm over her eyes. "How clever of you, o' Prince of Slytherin.”

A sob welled up in her throat and escaped her lips as she remembered calling him by another, more intimate nickname just seven short days before. "Master," she whispered, aching for him. Would she never be given the opportunity to call him such again? Was it pathetic of her to still want him in such a way despite the fact he'd had another woman in the interim? It had been three days since Hermione had run from Draco's office in tears - a week since they'd enjoyed an incredible, soul-stealing night of sex, and she still hadn't heard a peep from him. At least, not from the man that wasn't running around pretending to be some sort of vigilante justiciarius.

As of Thursday morning, Draco wasn't dodging her any longer around the Ministry, but there had been no response to her multiple inquiries for them to meet and talk, much less evidence of him reaching out to her to bridge the gap that had grown between them. She had caught glances of him at work, noting him standing in line for the lifts and walking through the corridors, but to her great disappointment, he hadn't even glanced in her direction once, much less said a word in greeting. He kept his head down, his nose in case files, his office door shut at all times.

Why haunt her at night as 'The Serpent' if he wouldn't give her a chance to explain in the light of day? Wasn't that proof that Draco and the thief were two different people?

Where I've always been, my lovely - waiting for you.

Cold dread settled in her stomach; what if he was waiting for her to make the first move? What if, by staying away, feeling terrified of rejection, she'd inadvertently push him away?

He didn't sound so lonely in his office the other day! She reminded herself, tears springing in her eyes when she remembered the rapturous moans coming from his office.

You were the one who ran away, her conscience whispered. Why should he wait around for you, when for all intense and purposes, you left after you got what you wanted? It's up to you to make this right.

And if he was indeed 'The Serpent', he could have interpreted what she said about making a mistake, as her regretting her decision to submit to him. Which would explain her absence from his bed the other day.

Of course, the thief - until she had conclusive proof he was Draco, for her sanity's sake, she'd refer to him as a separate man. After all, there was the distinctive possibility that he wasn't Draco after all, - had also strangely been absent since last time he'd broken into her flat, too. The new wards she'd had put up around her home on Thursday night might have something to do with that, though. Still, it didn't explain why her phone remained silent. He knew her number and could call her at any time.

Flopping over onto her stomach, she kept her eyes closed, trying to keep the tears at bay. "What a mess I've made of us."

The sharp ring of her house phone startled her. Jerking forward in automatic reaction, she reached for the cordless on the end table...

...and promptly tipped over, falling to the floor with a curse.

From his perch on a nearby cosy chair, Crookshanks looked down at her as if she were the clumsiest idiot in the world. She stuck her tongue out at him while struggling to reach the phone. Pulling it from its cradle, she slammed her thumb down on the 'ON' button.

"What?" she snapped, impatience clear in her tone.

"My, my. You sound quite vexed, lioness."

The phone almost slipped from her hand. She caught it just before it hit the floor, too. Putting it up to her ear, she spoke into the mouthpiece. “What do you want?”

After days, he finally decided to call her, but Hermione wasn't in the mood for his games; he might have accused her of playing games with him, but after that night on the roof of Theo's Gallerie, she had been nothing but honest in their interactions.

He was the one hiding behind a mask, and silly pet names, that he used as a way to confuse her, the wily bastard!

"Miss me?" He completely ignored her tone, not that she'd not expected it.

"Not in the least," she lied.

He chuckled, and the sound was warm and naughty. It made her toes curl.

"I think you did."

So much.

“You are wrong,” she said, getting comfortable on her couch.

He laughed, and the sound sent shivers down her spine.

“I will properly punish you for lying to me, soon,” he promised, and she caught her breathe. He sounded exactly like Draco! "But we have more important matters to discuss now; I'm sure you have received Auror Goldstein's note about my latest exploit by now. What do you think?"

The sudden change of topic, and his amusement over so serious a situation wasn't funny in the least. Further, he was antagonising her for a reason she didn't understand, and frankly, she didn't appreciate being the butt of his jokes. "I think it was unnecessarily dangerous of you to hit that particular location," she snapped. "Besides, it couldn't have held any stolen treasures, surely."

"Not with the owner being such an upstanding member of Magical Law Enforcement, hmm?" He taunted, sounding quite amused.

Hermione frowned. Why would Draco mock himself if he were really 'The Serpent'?

"No, because Draco knows I'd castrate him if he was holding onto any stolen Muggle-born artefacts," she stated, baring teeth.

"Ooh, someone's not happy with the younger Lord Malfoy, it seems," he teased.

"I'm not happy with you," she countered. "You broke into my bedroom again - twice in the last week! You do realise how dangerous that is right? Why couldn't you just write me a note, or call me like you are now? Why the coy game? It is some sort of way of proving how sly you are, to break through my wards continually? Proving to me that I'll never catch you - is that it?"

He was oddly quiet in the face of her accusations.

She tried another angle to get him to talk. "Is it a modified Patented Daydream Charm you've been casting on me when I'm almost asleep? Is that how you're able to keep me partially asleep, yet cognisant enough to talk to you? I know you're physically in my room with me, so it's definitely not a dream. This last time, you left the window open, genius."

He still remained quiet, and Hermione felt anger rising.

“Fine, don't answer me.” She bit out, clutching the phone so tightly she thought she might break the thing. “I'm officially off of the case now, so I'm done chasing you.”

“I don't think so, my lioness.” He murmured, and Hermione was positive she detected a small dose of hurt in his tone. “After all, you've been chasing me all week.”

Hermione sat up.

Merlin, he couldn't be... That was a blatant hint, wasn't it?

Closing her eyes, she wasn't making a humongous mistake. “Maybe I was, but it hardly matters anymore. You made sure I couldn't catch you.”

"Maybe I was scared that once you caught me, this would all end," he softly admitted.

She sat back down on the couch and stared at her painted toes. They were still scarlet red to match the dress she'd been wearing last Saturday night. "But it has to, doesn't it? I mean the thieving. You can't go on. Anthony's so close."

“Only because you helped him.”

Regret, and guilt gnawed at her, despite the complete lack of accusation in his tone; he was right. Without her initial investigation, and input, Antony wouldn't be closer to identifying the thief, than Dawlish ever was.

“I'm sorry.” She murmured.

"Does that frighten you - the thought of me being caught?" He asked, voice soft.

Leaning an elbow on her knees, she put a hand over her eyes. "Yes."

"But that's why you're in M.L.E., isn't it? To make sure every bad man is captured and punished for his crimes."

"You are not bad," she vehemently denied. "A thief, yes, but you are a good man. What you're doing... it's to right a wrong the system won't. I see that now."

"Some would disagree with you," he murmured, and his voice sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. She knew that voice!

"I know," she sighed, knowing most people only saw him as a thief, a criminal. "It doesn't mean they are right, either. They don't know you."

"And you do?"

"I believe so, yes." Maybe even in the Biblical sense, if you are who I think you are, she wryly thought as she stared up at the ceiling far above her head.

"Lioness?"

"Yes?"

"How are things with Draco?"

The abrupt change of subjects startled her once again, and Hermione paused, unsure; on one hand, he had pretty much admitted to being Malfoy, so him asking was perhaps his way of trying to clear the air between them. But on the other hand, if he was someone else, she risked divulging sensitive information about her, and Draco's personal lives.

She was indecisive, until she remembered 'The Serpent' had always kept his word; he was an honourable man. He might not like what she'd tell him - if he was not who she thought he was, - but he'd never betray her trust.

"We..." She paused, took a deep, shaky breath, and prayed that it really was Draco on the other end of this phone (because Merlin help her if it was some journalist playing her for a story). "We made love."

His voice trembled as he asked, "Made love? It wasn't just casual sex for you, then?"

She licked her lips, taking a chance. "No, it was definitely making love as far as I was concerned."

"You almost sound as if it was the wrong thing to do."

Hermione spoke from her heart as she replied. "It was the most incredible night of my life - beautiful and sexy, and I loved every minute of being owned by him. What was wrong was what I did later, after I woke up," she softly admitted.

His breathing was a little harder now through the phone. "What did you do that you regret?"

Taking a breath, she started talking, explaining, needing him to know the truth, to understand. "He left me a gift, and... I might have taken it the wrong way. I'm not sure. You see, the papers always said he gifted his mistresses with jewellery, so when I saw the necklace he'd left for me-"

A whispered swear came through the earpiece. "You believed you meant no more to him than any of the others."

"Yes," she acknowledged, fidgeting on her couch. "I waited for hours for him to come back so we could talk about it, but when he didn't, I thought maybe that was his way of telling me to get out, that he'd had his fun."

'The Serpent' muttered another nasty swear under his breath. "Perhaps he was called away on an emergency, but intended on coming back to your side as soon as possible."

Hermione curled into a ball as best as she could in her sofa. "Can I admit something to you?"

"Anything. Everything."

Her eyes burned and her throat felt tight. God, she wanted to believe him with all her heart. Could she?

Please don't let this be a mistake!

"I was scared," she confessed. "Draco is... he's every woman's fantasy, and he can have any witch he wants. All of his former lovers were sophisticated, rich, and gorgeous. They know how to play the games he likes, how to satisfy him and be what he needs. I bet every one of them would have been thrilled to wake up and find a gorgeous, expensive necklace gifted to them from him, but all I wanted in that minute was Draco. I wanted to be woken up by his kisses and held in his arms and instructed to give myself to him again. I wanted him to take me, to let me be what he needed. I wanted to find ecstasy in service to him. That... that's what I'd most wanted that morning."

'The Serpent's' breathing was a little hard on the other end of the line, as if he were aroused. "He... he would have wanted that, too, I'm sure. I'm also equally sure he never meant to offend you and is extremely sorry that he did. Perhaps his thought in giving you such a lovely necklace was to declare his intentions to pursue you, since you seem the type to require a bold declaration, my lioness. Also, if I were a betting man, I'd say he was hoping that, upon his return, you would be wearing his gift... and nothing else. I'm sure the sight of such a beautiful piece siding across your soft, creamy skin as he made love to you again would have been a highly arousing vision."

She swallowed, shaking in relief to finally get some answers. "Do you really believe that was his only intention?"

"I'm as positive as any man can be. Spoiling you with my wealth would be the top of my priority list... if I were so lucky a man as to have you."

She wiped at the tears in the corner of her eyes as a great weight lifted from her heart. The necklace hadn't been a bribe or a kiss-off, but an intention towards commitment! Immense relief though that was to know, there were still other things standing between them that needed to be discussed. "There's more, though," she started to explain.

On the other end of the phone, her thief chuckled. "With you, there always is."

She sighed. "I know, but this has to be said. I'm still... unsure. I mean, we... Draco, and I have history that isn't very good from our shared youth. It's water under the bridge, and he's changed, I know, but we still fight like those children sometimes. And we work together now - I'm his boss, in a manner of speaking, which further mucks things up. Our public relationship is... complicated. On the personal side, I'm just starting to discover the woman I am and what I want from a man. I have no experience with Draco's world of sexual fetish, and learning it is difficult for me, because I'm stubborn, I like control, and I have trust issues. I'm trying, but it's going to take real effort and time. When I look at all of that, I realise there's so much against us, and I have to wonder why he would want to even try. There are surely easier relationships to satisfy him with women much easier to get on with."

He sounded a bit indignant for her when he replied, "You seriously thought anyone else would ever matter to him, especially after he'd finally loved you? Granger, you are... no woman could ever compare."

She sniffed. "Tell that to his secretary."

"Ignore the chit, she's nothing," he advised. "Talk to him. Perhaps Draco feels insecure as well. You have several men chasing you, at the moment - powerful men who don't have a soured past with you, men who are your friends. Perhaps he worries that he can't measure up to them, or to the memories of your ex, who is still very much in your life. Perhaps your secret desires are daunting to him as well, for he worries about failing to please you and to deliver your needs. You're an intimidating woman, my lioness. It mustn't be easy for him, baring himself to you one night, only to find you gone from his bed without a note the next morning, his gift left behind. Perhaps he felt disappointed and worried that you only used him to satisfy your fantasy that night. Perhaps he worried he'd failed to be the man you'd needed. Have you ever thought of that?"

Hermione reeled as the confirmation she'd needed had slipped from his lips at last. "I don't recall telling you that I left his gift behind, much less that I wrote no note when I ran from his bed."

'The Serpent' was silent on the other end of the line.

The apartment was quiet as she held her breath and waited for his reply.

The creaking of wood somewhere in her flat had her on her feet in a beat. Quickly, she glanced at the spot Crooks had lain, and noted he was gone. It could be her familiar, for he was known to paw open doors that were open a crack. Yet, an odd prickling suspicion along her spine told her that it was not her cat prowling around making noise, nor that she was the only human soul in her house at that moment.

Following her intuition, she walked to the entrance of her hallway and glanced down the fifteen foot span at her open bedroom door. The hall's lighting didn't reach into the dark room itself, but she clearly remembered closing that door on her way into the kitchen earlier.

"Are you here right now?" she asked 'The Serpent'.

He didn't reply.

"Tell me!" she demanded, her nerves strung taut.

A figure dressed in black stepped from the hidden shadows of her bedroom into the frame of her dark doorway. In his hand was a Muggle cell phone, which he clicked off with his thumb. He set the phone on her dresser, which sat just inside and to the left of the door.

Hermione gaped at him, surprised to see the thief had somehow made it past her wards again, despite the new security layer. "How-?" she asked, dropping the phone from her ear and hitting the 'OFF' button. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't stay away, no matter how I tried," he admitted with a small, apologetic shrug. "I needed to see you."

She couldn't see his face, covered as it was by his favourite mask, but the voice... it wasn't disguised, and she'd know it anywhere.

"Anthony put new wards around the flat on Thursday night. He's got your signature now," she warned him.

"I know. I felt it when I came in through your window earlier. It only means something if you tell him I'm 'The Serpent', though. Otherwise, I'm just another visiting guest."

She set her cordless phone on a bookshelf nearby. "Technically, I have a duty to my office to give you up."

"I know. Will you?"

He seemed resigned to her decision on the matter.

"No." The word was drawn from her lips, even as she slowly stepped forward, drawn towards this man as she never had been to another. Her heart galloped wildly in her breast with anticipation. "I'm a hypocrite and an oath breaker to my office and this makes me complicit in your crimes, you realise. I'll go down with you, once it comes out."

He stepped into the hallway, determined to meet her even as she approached him. "Trust me, love, I won't let you burn for my misdeeds."

They reached each other and drew to a unanimous and sudden stop, inches apart and barely restrained, both trembling and breathing hard.

Grey eyes.

He had grey eyes, just as she'd always known he would.

"I'm going to Hell anyway it seems, so... sin with me again now," she murmured, reaching up to run her hands over his chest. The fine silk of his black button-down was warm against her palms. She reached higher, tracing the edges of his black mask with trembling fingers. "Please."

He closed his eyes, let out a shuddering breath, and he reached out, his arms banding around her without any more thought, pulling her in tight until she was melting against him and her blood rolled to a fierce boil within her veins. Their reckless bodies collided, felt natural, fated - a perfect fit.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Hermione held on as his hot, possessive mouth took hers in a branding, unforgettable claim. The taste of his kiss washed away all thoughts of his criminal activities, and of her suspicions - now confirmed,- of his identity. All that mattered was his taste, his touch, his scent in her nose, and that he'd forgiven her cowardice - that he still wanted her despite it. Her heart surrendered to him in that second just as easily as her body did, accepting the consequences of tonight without fear.

"Fuck me again," she begged around hungry, out of control kisses. "Please fuck me."

'The Serpent' obeyed.

Her back collided with the wall and his hands frantically tore at her pyjama bottoms in an attempt to get her naked, fast. He dropped to the floor to rid her of them, ripping the waist seam in the doing. When they were free of her bare feet, he tossed them away, and lifted the hem of her top... She tossed her head back and cried out as his mouth locked tightly to her core and began feasting upon her pussy like a man starved for her essence. "Oh, God... Please!" she wailed as he pressed his tongue deep into her, licking and sucking upon her wet flesh. He was ravenous and all she could do was hold tight to his head and ride his mouth, one leg flung over his broad shoulder.

Her orgasm blindsided her, bowed her back. She tilted her head to the ceiling and screamed with pleasure.

Still riding the aftershocks, Hermione had barely caught her breath when her thief was on his feet again, belt buckle hastily undone, trousers unbuttoned and unzipped, pants shoved down. With a powerful pull, he had her up in his arms, pinned to the wall, and with an expert thrust he drove into her with all the force of a man desperate to claim what was his. His mouth latched onto the curve of her throat and he bit down to stifle his own roar of triumph as he shoved to the hilt and she could take no more.

"Mine," he growled in her ear. Using the wall for leverage and his great strength to keep her suspended in the air, he asserted his claim by pistoning into her again and again, his hips merciless, conquering."You're fucking mine forever!"

Hermione practically sobbed from the pleasure as he ruthlessly took her, giving back to her so much joy, her heart nearly burst from it. "Yes, yours," she muttered, running her hands down the silk of his mask, and holding on as he pounded her slick, tight pussy raw. She widened her legs, opened herself more, and gave herself to him.

With a groan of approval, he took her submission and owned it, and when he came deep inside her, he repeated her name over and over, calling for her as if she were his one and only wish finally come true.

Bodies still trembling with aftershocks, Hermione rested her forehead against his.

“Draco.” She whispered, amber eyes soft as she stared at him.

Her thief slowly pulled his face away, looking at her with shimmering eyes, filled with longing, and apprehension.

Her own gaze dropped to his lips; swollen, and red from their violent kisses, mesmerising her. She raised a hand, and traced the soft pillows of his mouth, and the slight stubble on his cheeks. When her fingers reached the edge of his mask, her eyes flew to his.

His silver eyes challenged her, inviting her to take the final step, and finally be on equal ground with him.

Biting her lip, she tightened her legs around his hips, keeping him close; she grasped the edges of his mask with both hands, and slowly pulled it up, and away. Dropping his mask to the floor, she looked upon 'The Serpent's' true face at long last.

...And she realised in that moment that she loved him back.

#draco malfoy, #dramione, #hermione granger, #smut

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