The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge, Chapter 3
Title: The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge
Disclaimer: JKR owns anything that is obviously hers. I own the rest. I do not make any money off this.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Others
Genres: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Humour, Romance, Smut
Story Warnings: Epilogue? What Epilogue?, Mild Kink, Mild Violence, Polyjuice (Body Switch), Profanity, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Threesome
Warning Note: I do not warn per chapter. What I warn for may be in chapter 1 or chapter 39 and they may or may not be what you expect them to be. If you have a very specific trigger, you can PM me for details pertaining to that specific thing, otherwise tough luck, cookie.
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: Through a series of uncontrollable events and deliberate decisions, Draco and Hermione are now, a little more than a decade after the war, both working as Aurors. Draco is a complete git and the only one who'll pair up with him for anything is Hermione. This is suiting her less and less, though, so she tries to open his eyes to all the things that have changed. An open-eyed Draco, however, is a force to be reckoned with.
Extra Note: Thank you to margotlefaye, little_dollface and mazvn for the beta and robs55 for the Britpick. You guys rock! You saved this story. :D
Chapter Length: 5,310
* * *
Hermione woke to a hand weighing down her hip. Ugh. Again! She sat up, grabbed her pillow and smacked Draco hard on the head with it three times. It was wholly unsatisfying, though, considering that the pillow was the very soft and fluffy kind.
She'd have to request heavier pillows.
Or weigh them down with rocks.
Draco groaned. 'Stop that, you minger! Can't a fellow ever get a peaceful awakening?'
Hermione snorted. Minger, indeed! There was one very attractive male down in this very village that would beg to differ. She didn't bother to argue, though, but just went out to get her toothbrush and began brushing as she went back to the bedroom. 'The antique shop is open today,' she said.
Draco had sat up and was wearily rubbing his eyes. 'Gross, Granger! Brush in the bathroom for once, will you?' he complained at her, and then stood up and took a step, only to jump and swear and then lift his one foot, narrow his eyes, and pick out a piece of glass. A few drops of blood appeared, and he scowled at her, before jumping the rest of the way to the bathroom.
Oops! Ok, maybe she shouldn't have smashed his picture last night. No, she knew she shouldn't have. It had probably been the most immature and inconsiderate thing she'd ever done to him, and that was saying something. But she hadn't actually realised what kind of story was behind it. She really shouldn't have done it.
She went after him. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, dabbing at the small wound with a cotton ball, plaster at the ready.
'I was thinking we could mend the picture frame,' she said, going to the sink to spit.
'No, I think it's in too many pieces,' he just replied.
'No. I mean with magic.'
He looked up at her, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 'We aren't supposed to use magic, remember?'
She shrugged. 'It's just this once; no one will ever know.'
'To ease your guilty conscience, eh, Granger? Nah, forget it.'
'I didn't mean to-'
'Of course you meant to.' He stood up, testing to see if the plaster stayed, and then went over and got his toothbrush. 'Maybe you should learn to control your temper.'
Hermione scowled. He was right, damn him, but it was hardly like he was some paragon of good behaviour himself! 'I'll get you a new one at the antique shop,' she just said, finishing up and leaving the bathroom.
He merely shrugged again.
Sometimes, he was really, really annoying.
* * *
The visit to the antique shop was a lesson in futility, as the shop owner could tell them little more than that a perfectly average-in every aspect-stranger had come by and offered him the artifacts. Most of the things had already been sold, but Draco and Hermione were welcome to buy back what was left at a vastly exaggerated sum-unless, of course, they could prove they were law enforcement.
Draco really doubted the shop owner would think magical law enforcement counted. And with one look at each other, he and Hermione decided that the artifacts were too low-magic for them to risk putting a spell on the bloke in the middle of the day. If Potter wanted to retrieve the items, he would have to pull some strings with Muggle law enforcement.
'Sounds like petty thievery,' Draco said as they were leaving the shop. 'But why bother selling to Muggles? They'd fetch a better price at Borgin and Burkes.'
'Maybe they thought they wouldn't get caught here.'
'They probably won't be. It's too insignificant to waste a lot of resources on. Am I the only one feeling like Potter effectively gave us a time-out with this one?'
'I think he did,' Hermione agreed. 'It's the slowest case we've had in years. Much more suited for a first-timer.'
'Do you still want to find some kind of wild animal tracker, or do you want to angrily owl Potter? I'm all for the latter.'
Hermione stretched her arms over her head in a lazy motion, as they were casually making their way through town. 'Well, the way I see it... If Harry is doing this on purpose, he deserves to give us this holiday with full pay, and we should stick around like we would with any other case.'
'This is hardly my idea of a holiday, Hermione.'
Hermione scrunched up her face. 'Ok, so maybe it's a little boring and maybe we're driving each other crazy, but it's still time spent doing nothing.'
'I didn't realise what a slacker you were.'
'Says you, who spent all day sleeping yesterday!'
Draco grinned because he couldn't help it. 'It was one day. One day. And it meant you got to go off and do whatever with your loverboy. Speaking of...' He stopped her with a hand on her arm. 'We need new groceries. Real groceries, this time. The take-out in this place is awful, and I don't think I can stomach any more of that old cereal. Especially considering that we don't even have any milk for it.'
Hermione pursed her lips. 'We do eat like slackers, don't we?'
'We do. And I'm hungry.'
'All right. I'm just going to go ahead-could you remember to get me some pop?'
'Wait, you're not coming with me to the shop?'
'Hell, no,' she said, shaking her head. When he looked at her quizzically, she rolled her eyes and added, 'Oh, please. Like you never wanted to avoid someone after a fling.' She then turned her back on him and waved over her shoulder.
Draco frowned. She really was behaving much differently than he was used to. If she was interested in the shop-bloke, shouldn't she be... interested?
Shaking his head, he went into the shop and began getting everything he needed for a decent evening meal. When he made it to the section with pop, he deliberately picked a brand he knew Hermione hated. Then he hesitated and, sighing, added one she liked. He would hide that one until after she'd had her fit, though.
It was that same handsome young Muggle man-Draco realised that Hermione had never told him his name-working again today. He didn't seem too thrilled at seeing Draco, though, and was even scowling in his general direction.
As Draco prepared to pay for the food, the Muggle asked, 'So, where is she?'
'You mean Hermione?' Draco asked, thinking that was a very good question indeed.
'Yeah,' the Muggle said, irritably pushing the things past some kind of device that went bleep with each item. That thing apparently told him how much it would all cost. Draco had seen these things before at almost every Muggle shop he visited. Muggles were an odd breed-weren't they taught how to count? 'She promised to ring me today before work, or at least come by, but she never intended to, did she?'
Draco didn't know what to say, so he paid first, and then said, 'Look, I don't know what happened between you two...'
'Nothing!' the Muggle exclaimed. 'She came by, she was very talkative, and we had a brilliant snog, but then she said you were ill and she had to go. You look fine to me! Bloody tease.'
Draco lifted an eyebrow. 'You mean to say you didn't...?'
'I think I would have noticed if we had,' the Muggle muttered. 'And she was really dressed for it too. What happened?'
'I... don't know,' Draco carefully said. 'Maybe something put her off, I really don't know.'
'Think I was too eager?' the Muggle asked, suddenly looking uncertain. 'We don't get many birds fit like her around here.'
Draco had to fight down the urge to wrinkle his nose. She was Hermione Granger and per definition not a "fit bird". 'I'll ask her to get in touch with you,' he politely said, turning around.
'Hey!' the Muggle said to Draco's back and then as Draco slowly turned back, 'Birds like her don't change, you know.'
Draco blinked. 'What?'
'You must really like her to allow her to do what she wants like that. I agree that they're fun to tumble with, but they don't settle down. Before you know it, they just leave you alone with a kid that might not even be yours and you're stuck working a job you hate for the rest of your life.'
Draco definitely thought the Muggle might just have overshared his own life story there.
'I don't think Hermione has ever done that,' he carefully said, 'and I doubt she's about to start now. I'll tell her you were asking after her.'
* * *
Hermione was investigating the music options, trying to figure out how this particular CD-player worked. She'd never admit it to Draco, but even though she was a Muggle-born and certainly better at socialising with Muggles than he was, she didn't use their technology that often and it usually took her a few tries to get something to work. This CD-player wasn't any different.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out which button was for opening it. Oh, it had to be that one! She pushed it. Yes. And the disc went there, silver side down... now to get it to play. She pushed the button with the arrow, and what sounded mostly like a foghorn began blaring at an ungodly volume. Eep! Frantically, she began fiddling for the volume control, finally finding it in the shape of a round button that could be twisted. There! But good grief, this music was bad. She pursed her lips and frowned, trying to figure out how to skip to the next song.
'What is this noise?' Draco's voice complained behind her, and she jumped.
'Don't sneak up on me like that!' she growled.
'Sneak? In that noise, I could have brought my very own band without anyone hearing me.'
'Yes, well-' she pushed the button she thought would skip ahead '-I needed to hear something that wasn't your voice.'
Fortunately, she'd guessed right once again, and it skipped ahead to a more bearable song. Phew.
'Hm,' was all Draco said. How uncharacteristic of him!
'Did you get my pop?' she asked. It was funny how, at thirty, she still felt slightly rebellious whenever she had some of the sweet, fizzy drink. She supposed she'd always be the dentists' daughter, no matter how old she got.
He pulled out a bottle of a brand she hated. Her face fell. 'You did that on purpose,' she miserably said.
'Maybe you could ring up your Muggle loverboy and have him bring you something?' he asked.
She made a face. 'You really are fixated on that.'
'Ah, no. When I went into the shop, I had to hear him lament about how you left him high and dry and promised to contact him this morning but didn't. You owe it to my head to sort that out before I have to go back in there.' He took the groceries to the kitchen area.
Hermione felt her cheeks heat and was thankful that Draco didn't notice. Damn it, she hadn't thought the bloke would so willingly share everything with Draco. That was embarrassing. 'I can't ring him up,' she called after him, 'I have no phone.'
'Sure you do,' he called back. 'You have that little mobile one in your bag. The one you usually use on cases involving Muggles.'
She followed him into the kitchen. 'I didn't think you'd know what that was. Did you get anything that doesn't need cooking?'
'I may be a pure-blood wizard who never spent much time among Muggles, but I'm not entirely stupid. I've seen you use it several times. And, no, I didn't, but I'll cook enough for you too, as long as you talk to that Muggle.'
'I don't want to talk to him!' Hermione said, scowling. 'I know men. Either he'll just pout and vent his wounded ego at me, or he'll try to guilt me into sleeping with him no matter if I want to or not.'
'Didn't think you were a coward. And, besides, I thought you did want to. What was all the fuss about if you didn't?'
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, as he was putting things-including her favourite pop-away. The git really had gotten the bad brand on purpose! 'I am not a coward just for thinking it's not worth the trouble, and I just changed my mind after talking to him! He's too needy by half. Why do you care, anyway? I got the information I promised.'
Draco was looking more annoyed than he had any right to be. 'Honestly, Granger,' he said. 'I preferred it when I didn't know what a bitch you were. To other people, I mean.'
Hermione gaped. 'Fine,' she then said. 'But dinner had better be good.' She turned around and stalked into the bedroom to find her mobile.
Sometimes she wasn't sure why she even tried to get along.
* * *
Draco knew that Hermione didn't appreciate being bullied to confront some random bloke she'd stood up. She certainly scowled and ignored him after she came back from having the conversation, even though she had no problem eating his food.
He honestly didn't even know why it bothered him; it just did. It really made him uncomfortable to have someone he'd known for the better part of the last two decades-who he relied on to keep him alive much of the time-act so contrary to what he'd expect from her. Couldn't she at least pretend to be the person he'd thought he'd known?
Draco was a creature of habit. The unpredictability of his job was really the only unpredictability he wanted in his life. He would very much like for the rest to stay exactly the same as it had always been. At least, unless he actively tried to change it. Unplanned changes were always bad.
After dinner, Hermione announced she was going for a walk, and told him to not wait up. Draco found the timing peculiar, but couldn't decide whether she was going off to meet her Muggle not-so-loverboy again, or whether she just didn't want to help with the washing up.
Maybe it was a little bit of both.
But if she was going off to meet the Muggle, then she didn't have any reason to be mad at Draco. Unless, of course, she was employing the annoying female habit of being mad "on principle". Whatever. He'd do the washing up, but only because she actually had replaced his picture frame today, and with a nicer one at that.
After that, he spent some time trying to figure out how to stop the infernal noise that some Muggles apparently called music. Hermione had obviously set it to repeat over and over and over again. He ended up shutting it off the same way he shut all Muggle electronics off-he found the electrical flex and yanked it from its socket.
Blessed peace.
Debating what to do, he ended up opting for a bath since he would for once be able to take his time without a certain highly annoying witch pounding on the door. Or even better: a long shower. Showers were a thing that largely had seemed to elude the wizarding world, and the one and only thing that Draco actually liked from the Muggle world and missed when he went back. He should really look into getting one installed. It would hardly be a problem, considering that no electricity would be needed. He just needed to find some non-Muggles to set it up.
Maybe some squib somewhere worked as a... whatever a person like that was called. Yes. He had to find someone like that. Maybe he could even get Hermione to help him figure out how, in the name of getting along.
He walked to the bathroom whilst pulling off his jumper and unceremoniously dropping it to the floor, before unfastening his trousers. He didn't mind wearing trousers from time to time, but he very much disliked almost all the Muggle makes he'd had the patience to seek out.
Buying Muggle clothes in wizarding shops was never a smart thing. Those people always got the oddest, most outrageous garments they could find, never anything useful. Having the Ministry acquire clothes for him was little better. They'd get him cheap, ill-fitting brands that still left something to be desired when it came to his tastes and comfort. Not to mention how they'd never find anything that actually matched in any way that could be called even halfway decent. Finally, he'd procured a list of Muggle clothes shops and gone out himself, but walking around Muggle London was more than a little unsettling to him, so he hadn't made it very far before he'd just gone into the nearest shop and bought everything he'd spotted within the first two minutes that was tolerable to him.
Hermione had laughed at him when she'd heard his horror tale.
Come to think of it, though, that year she'd actually given him a pile of Muggle clothes for his birthday. Good clothes, too. Matching, even! In fact, he believed this might be one of the jumpers. He didn't wear Muggle clothes often enough for any wear to really show, so the jumper was still good. He supposed she wasn't always a shrew. It had been very good of her, considering his distress and the fact that they didn't usually exchange presents.
He got rid of the last of his clothes, just leaving everything on the bathroom floor, and made sure the water was warm enough before stepping in the shower. This place had a very cheap-looking shower curtain. He disliked shower curtains. They always made him feel slightly claustrophobic. He preferred those translucent screens. He supposed that if he just kept the shower at an angle so it wouldn't make too much of a mess, and he mopped up afterwards, it wouldn't be too much of a problem not to close the curtain.
Placing his hands against the cool tile, he leant forward, letting the water beat onto his neck and back, loosening the worst of his knots. He was so tense. He always was whenever he was out on a case, but this case was so eventless that he kept waiting for something big to happen. Something horrible. He knew it wouldn't, that there was no greater conspiracy than Potter being an absolute git and treating him and Hermione like kids on a time-out, but calm cases were the worst. It was when you least expected it that disaster struck. When you thought the danger had passed and you allowed yourself to relax and be happy, that was when you lost something important.
But what would he lose? His life? That was always a risk. He'd made his peace with that. Whenever he was seeing someone, he tried to make sure that she could make her peace with it as well. He preferred to live, but his death was always a very real possibility. It was other people's deaths he couldn't handle.
He deliberately tried to relax, rolling his shoulders back and hearing cracking sounds. If he'd been at this cabin with any other witch-any other person-than Hermione Granger, he might have asked them to help rub out the tension because it gave him headaches. However, Hermione's mocking also gave him a headache, and he preferred the headache coming from the knots. Besides, she'd be more likely to make it worse, anyway. She was many things, but gentle was not one of them. She would probably just pinch and poke until he begged her to stop.
Sighing, he straightened and reached for the soap. Even now, she was giving him a headache. He needed to think of something else, but what? Often, he would think about the witch waiting for him at home, but this time there was no witch. Just another ex, lumped into the ever-growing group of exes he should never have become involved with in the first place. Why bother remembering? It only made it harder to move on.
His latest ex had given him an ultimatum: Either he refuse to go on this case with Hermione, or he wouldn't have anyone to come home to.
It had never even occurred to Draco to refuse to go. Telling her that he'd most likely lose his job if he did as she asked hadn't yielded any understanding. He didn't need this job, she'd said. He had the money.
She'd only been half right. He did have the money, but there were other reasons to work than the salary.
Truthfully, he didn't feel any great sadness over walking out on a witch who refused to understand that his needs didn't have to make sense to her to be valid. There had been so many things she hadn't understood about him. She hadn't believed that he was capable of going away for weeks-even months-and be in this close proximity with another witch without being unfaithful. He'd never been unfaithful. Not once. Not to her, not to anyone. Not even if the witch preferred to wait a while before becoming physical, which had been the case this time. And, come to think of it, the time before that. He wasn't some animal who couldn't go without rutting. He could easily go without. Even more easily if he was stuck in a small cabin with Hermione Granger. She really killed his libido.
But Hermione wasn't here now to suppress his libido. Draco leant against the tiles again. When was the last time he'd had any sexual release? Any kind at all? His brow knitted as he thought. He hadn't really considered it for a while, but... ugh, he must really be getting old if he could go this long without even wanking.
Maybe it would help him relax a bit.
He pushed all thoughts from his mind, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the mood wash over him. It shouldn't take long after this amount of time, anyway. Hell, just the thought of the release he would have had his cock responding, pulsing, hardening.
No, not long at all.
Without even removing his hands from the tiles yet, Draco conjured up a fantasy of hands touching him everywhere. Many hands. Different hands. Small hands, long-fingered hands, soft hands, calloused hands... demanding hands. He liked the feel of slightly calloused hands, didn't like to fuck dainty little roses-at least unless they managed to surprise him. They almost never did. His parents had wanted him to marry a fragile little flower of a witch. He hadn't exactly rebelled, but he hadn't felt any attraction to her either. Then he'd met Asteria, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, who loved to ride brooms and climb trees and dance under the stars. Her skin had a constant tan from the sun, her hair was rarely tidy, and her hands had a slightly rough quality to them. Yet, his parents hadn't minded for long. How could they? She'd been lovely.
He concentrated on the feel of one pair of hands, banishing all the others. Yes, this was exactly what he was in the mood for. He willed the owner to kneel before him. Suck. Ugh, that had been even longer than the sex. Not every witch liked doing it, and Draco had to respect their boundaries in the bedroom. He had to match whatever they wanted and pretend not to want anything else, or they would never trust him. There were too many variables, too many reasons not to trust him if he was completely honest with them. But this was his fantasy and the person with the slightly calloused hands didn't mind at all. They were eager to do it. Warm, full, soft lips closed around the head of his cock, making him positively shake with want. Oh, yes, please. Then a tongue leisurely stroked the tip whilst a hand closed around his shaft, making him feel like he'd been taken in deeper.
Draco groaned, dimly realising that at some point he'd given in and grabbed himself and was now painfully slowly mimicking the movements of his fantasy. He'd always preferred to start slow. To wait. To let the sensations build. It was quickly becoming hard to do so, however, as big eyes-what color? Blue! Yes, these were a clear blue-looked up at him, looked him straight in the eyes, whilst his cock was being worshipped by a clever hand, a hot mouth, and a tongue that knew all the exact right places to tease.
He wanted to come, but it was too soon. He had to prolong it. The mouth went away, and the other hand reached down and carefully grabbed his bollocks, lifting them a bit as if weighing them. Then the mouth returned, running down along his shaft, and flicking its tongue out at the root, before moving back up, and taking him in deep, so deep.
There was nothing to do, he had to come now. Imagining the greedy, lustful look in those blue eyes, Draco moved his hand harder and faster, feeling the climax build and then it was there-
He heard a gasp, and his eyes flew wide in shock to see that Hermione had for some reason walked in on him, but it was too late. His eyes closed again on a groan, as he felt the orgasm ripping through him. There was nothing he could do to stop it.
Once he finally opened his eyes again, Hermione was thankfully gone, but unfortunately, the humiliation stayed.
* * *
Note to self: Never assume. Never. Assume. NEVER ASSUME!
Hermione was pacing the living area. She'd assumed. Oops. She'd assumed Draco was in bed either sleeping or reading, and she'd been so far gone in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard the water, she hadn't... thought. She would never have had the imagination to consider the fact that he might be in there, tossing off.
It wasn't actually the first time she'd walked in on him bathing. When you lived together for any period of time, as they had done on several occasions, things happened. This was, however, first time she'd walked in on that and... such perfect timing too!
She couldn't stop a nervous kind of giggle. It was sort of funny. Only not, because Draco was a prude and would be horrified and probably angry too. But still, funny! That was one side of him she'd never thought she'd see. Well, ok, she'd never had any opinion on whether she was going to... see... that much of him-and obviously anything could happen when you were out and about-but she'd certainly never thought she'd see him do that.
Oh, dear.
The image of Draco's horror as he saw her, followed by the pained bliss of his orgasm was really difficult to forget. He was going to be impossible to live with now. Too bad. After that self-loving of his, he might actually have been pleasant to be around with for a while. She had another nervous giggle-fit. Ohh, dear. She covered her face with her hands. Her cheeks were extremely hot.
He came out of the bathroom-thankfully completely dressed, and glowered at her.
Yep, this would go over well. 'Oh, come on!' she burst out. 'It's not like I didn't suspect you were human enough to occasionally do that!'
'That may very well be,' he bit off. 'But I can assure you that I never intended for you to watch.' His cheeks pinkened again, and it seemed like he couldn't even look at her. In fact, he made to go to the bedroom.
She couldn't keep another nervous giggle from escaping, and he froze in place, his entire body going rigid. 'Don't be like that,' she couldn't help saying. 'You have to admit it's a little funny.'
He slowly turned back. 'Shut. Up.' There was nothing funny about the expression on his face or in his voice. 'Some of us don't whore ourselves out every chance we get and have to take care of things when we think we're alone. You invaded my privacy. I see nothing funny about that.' He turned and went into the bedroom, where she very distinctly heard the key turn.
Oh, great. She miserably eyed the sofa. No way she wanted to sleep there. She went over to the door and knocked. No answer.
'I'm sorry, ok?' she tried telling the door. No answer. 'It wasn't like I did it on purpose! I didn't expect you to be there.' She paused. She was still being ignored. 'Come on...' she sighed. 'I promise not to tease you about it. And I won't put it in my report or tell Harry or Ron or any-'
The door flew open, almost before she registered the sound of the key being turned again. 'If you make fun of me behind my back, you'd better pray that you never get signed onto another dangerous case with me, because I will leave you to die,' he growled.
She crossed her arms over her chest. 'No, you won't.'
'Try me.' He began violently closing the door again, but she quickly stuck her foot in, yelping and feeling her eyes water from sheer pain when it got crushed from the force of the door slamming on it, but still not removing it. Maybe next time she used her foot as a door stopper, she should put on a shoe first.
'Damn it, Granger!' he yelled, abruptly letting go of the door and jumping back. 'Are you a complete idiot?'
She shot him an annoyed look, pushed the door open and limped over to the bed, where she sat down, carefully removing her sock and testing the extent of the injury. There was pain, definitely. Ow! Tosser!
'No one in their right mind would do that!' he continued his tirade. 'Can't you ever just let anything go?'
'Why are you yelling?' she yelled back at him. 'You're not the one with an injury!'
'Only to my pride,' he muttered.
'Oh, come off it,' she scoffed. 'You wanked in the shower. Big deal. Who doesn't? But normal people don't throw a complete fit just because they're being teased a little!'
'Yeah? I seem to recall someone threw a fit just because she was teased in front of someone she wanted to bonk!'
'You were ruining my chances! I just embarrassed you a bit when no one else was even there. Did you ever think that I was embarrassed too, and that's why I had to make fun of it?'
'I didn't ruin a thing! That Muggle was so hard up for any kind of action that he didn't care. And yes, I did notice. I had no idea you even could blush! But that does not change the fact that this wasn't about you and you didn't just get humiliated and possibly cock-blocked forever whenever your partner is within as much as a ten mile radius.'
'You know what?' she said, slowly getting back on her feet, biting her lip when leaning on the injured foot caused pain to shoot up her leg. Doggedly she remained standing without taking any of her weight off the leg. 'You can blame me for many things,' she said, once the pain became familiar enough to be bearable. 'But it will never be my fault that you're nothing but some impotent prude!'
Gathering all of her willpower, she stalked out of the bedroom and didn't allow herself as much as the weakest whimper until she'd heard the door slam again.
Next Chapter
Last Chapter
Master List
Disclaimer: JKR owns anything that is obviously hers. I own the rest. I do not make any money off this.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Others
Genres: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Humour, Romance, Smut
Story Warnings: Epilogue? What Epilogue?, Mild Kink, Mild Violence, Polyjuice (Body Switch), Profanity, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Threesome
Warning Note: I do not warn per chapter. What I warn for may be in chapter 1 or chapter 39 and they may or may not be what you expect them to be. If you have a very specific trigger, you can PM me for details pertaining to that specific thing, otherwise tough luck, cookie.
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: Through a series of uncontrollable events and deliberate decisions, Draco and Hermione are now, a little more than a decade after the war, both working as Aurors. Draco is a complete git and the only one who'll pair up with him for anything is Hermione. This is suiting her less and less, though, so she tries to open his eyes to all the things that have changed. An open-eyed Draco, however, is a force to be reckoned with.
Extra Note: Thank you to margotlefaye, little_dollface and mazvn for the beta and robs55 for the Britpick. You guys rock! You saved this story. :D
Chapter Length: 5,310
* * *
Hermione woke to a hand weighing down her hip. Ugh. Again! She sat up, grabbed her pillow and smacked Draco hard on the head with it three times. It was wholly unsatisfying, though, considering that the pillow was the very soft and fluffy kind.
She'd have to request heavier pillows.
Or weigh them down with rocks.
Draco groaned. 'Stop that, you minger! Can't a fellow ever get a peaceful awakening?'
Hermione snorted. Minger, indeed! There was one very attractive male down in this very village that would beg to differ. She didn't bother to argue, though, but just went out to get her toothbrush and began brushing as she went back to the bedroom. 'The antique shop is open today,' she said.
Draco had sat up and was wearily rubbing his eyes. 'Gross, Granger! Brush in the bathroom for once, will you?' he complained at her, and then stood up and took a step, only to jump and swear and then lift his one foot, narrow his eyes, and pick out a piece of glass. A few drops of blood appeared, and he scowled at her, before jumping the rest of the way to the bathroom.
Oops! Ok, maybe she shouldn't have smashed his picture last night. No, she knew she shouldn't have. It had probably been the most immature and inconsiderate thing she'd ever done to him, and that was saying something. But she hadn't actually realised what kind of story was behind it. She really shouldn't have done it.
She went after him. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, dabbing at the small wound with a cotton ball, plaster at the ready.
'I was thinking we could mend the picture frame,' she said, going to the sink to spit.
'No, I think it's in too many pieces,' he just replied.
'No. I mean with magic.'
He looked up at her, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 'We aren't supposed to use magic, remember?'
She shrugged. 'It's just this once; no one will ever know.'
'To ease your guilty conscience, eh, Granger? Nah, forget it.'
'I didn't mean to-'
'Of course you meant to.' He stood up, testing to see if the plaster stayed, and then went over and got his toothbrush. 'Maybe you should learn to control your temper.'
Hermione scowled. He was right, damn him, but it was hardly like he was some paragon of good behaviour himself! 'I'll get you a new one at the antique shop,' she just said, finishing up and leaving the bathroom.
He merely shrugged again.
Sometimes, he was really, really annoying.
* * *
The visit to the antique shop was a lesson in futility, as the shop owner could tell them little more than that a perfectly average-in every aspect-stranger had come by and offered him the artifacts. Most of the things had already been sold, but Draco and Hermione were welcome to buy back what was left at a vastly exaggerated sum-unless, of course, they could prove they were law enforcement.
Draco really doubted the shop owner would think magical law enforcement counted. And with one look at each other, he and Hermione decided that the artifacts were too low-magic for them to risk putting a spell on the bloke in the middle of the day. If Potter wanted to retrieve the items, he would have to pull some strings with Muggle law enforcement.
'Sounds like petty thievery,' Draco said as they were leaving the shop. 'But why bother selling to Muggles? They'd fetch a better price at Borgin and Burkes.'
'Maybe they thought they wouldn't get caught here.'
'They probably won't be. It's too insignificant to waste a lot of resources on. Am I the only one feeling like Potter effectively gave us a time-out with this one?'
'I think he did,' Hermione agreed. 'It's the slowest case we've had in years. Much more suited for a first-timer.'
'Do you still want to find some kind of wild animal tracker, or do you want to angrily owl Potter? I'm all for the latter.'
Hermione stretched her arms over her head in a lazy motion, as they were casually making their way through town. 'Well, the way I see it... If Harry is doing this on purpose, he deserves to give us this holiday with full pay, and we should stick around like we would with any other case.'
'This is hardly my idea of a holiday, Hermione.'
Hermione scrunched up her face. 'Ok, so maybe it's a little boring and maybe we're driving each other crazy, but it's still time spent doing nothing.'
'I didn't realise what a slacker you were.'
'Says you, who spent all day sleeping yesterday!'
Draco grinned because he couldn't help it. 'It was one day. One day. And it meant you got to go off and do whatever with your loverboy. Speaking of...' He stopped her with a hand on her arm. 'We need new groceries. Real groceries, this time. The take-out in this place is awful, and I don't think I can stomach any more of that old cereal. Especially considering that we don't even have any milk for it.'
Hermione pursed her lips. 'We do eat like slackers, don't we?'
'We do. And I'm hungry.'
'All right. I'm just going to go ahead-could you remember to get me some pop?'
'Wait, you're not coming with me to the shop?'
'Hell, no,' she said, shaking her head. When he looked at her quizzically, she rolled her eyes and added, 'Oh, please. Like you never wanted to avoid someone after a fling.' She then turned her back on him and waved over her shoulder.
Draco frowned. She really was behaving much differently than he was used to. If she was interested in the shop-bloke, shouldn't she be... interested?
Shaking his head, he went into the shop and began getting everything he needed for a decent evening meal. When he made it to the section with pop, he deliberately picked a brand he knew Hermione hated. Then he hesitated and, sighing, added one she liked. He would hide that one until after she'd had her fit, though.
It was that same handsome young Muggle man-Draco realised that Hermione had never told him his name-working again today. He didn't seem too thrilled at seeing Draco, though, and was even scowling in his general direction.
As Draco prepared to pay for the food, the Muggle asked, 'So, where is she?'
'You mean Hermione?' Draco asked, thinking that was a very good question indeed.
'Yeah,' the Muggle said, irritably pushing the things past some kind of device that went bleep with each item. That thing apparently told him how much it would all cost. Draco had seen these things before at almost every Muggle shop he visited. Muggles were an odd breed-weren't they taught how to count? 'She promised to ring me today before work, or at least come by, but she never intended to, did she?'
Draco didn't know what to say, so he paid first, and then said, 'Look, I don't know what happened between you two...'
'Nothing!' the Muggle exclaimed. 'She came by, she was very talkative, and we had a brilliant snog, but then she said you were ill and she had to go. You look fine to me! Bloody tease.'
Draco lifted an eyebrow. 'You mean to say you didn't...?'
'I think I would have noticed if we had,' the Muggle muttered. 'And she was really dressed for it too. What happened?'
'I... don't know,' Draco carefully said. 'Maybe something put her off, I really don't know.'
'Think I was too eager?' the Muggle asked, suddenly looking uncertain. 'We don't get many birds fit like her around here.'
Draco had to fight down the urge to wrinkle his nose. She was Hermione Granger and per definition not a "fit bird". 'I'll ask her to get in touch with you,' he politely said, turning around.
'Hey!' the Muggle said to Draco's back and then as Draco slowly turned back, 'Birds like her don't change, you know.'
Draco blinked. 'What?'
'You must really like her to allow her to do what she wants like that. I agree that they're fun to tumble with, but they don't settle down. Before you know it, they just leave you alone with a kid that might not even be yours and you're stuck working a job you hate for the rest of your life.'
Draco definitely thought the Muggle might just have overshared his own life story there.
'I don't think Hermione has ever done that,' he carefully said, 'and I doubt she's about to start now. I'll tell her you were asking after her.'
* * *
Hermione was investigating the music options, trying to figure out how this particular CD-player worked. She'd never admit it to Draco, but even though she was a Muggle-born and certainly better at socialising with Muggles than he was, she didn't use their technology that often and it usually took her a few tries to get something to work. This CD-player wasn't any different.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out which button was for opening it. Oh, it had to be that one! She pushed it. Yes. And the disc went there, silver side down... now to get it to play. She pushed the button with the arrow, and what sounded mostly like a foghorn began blaring at an ungodly volume. Eep! Frantically, she began fiddling for the volume control, finally finding it in the shape of a round button that could be twisted. There! But good grief, this music was bad. She pursed her lips and frowned, trying to figure out how to skip to the next song.
'What is this noise?' Draco's voice complained behind her, and she jumped.
'Don't sneak up on me like that!' she growled.
'Sneak? In that noise, I could have brought my very own band without anyone hearing me.'
'Yes, well-' she pushed the button she thought would skip ahead '-I needed to hear something that wasn't your voice.'
Fortunately, she'd guessed right once again, and it skipped ahead to a more bearable song. Phew.
'Hm,' was all Draco said. How uncharacteristic of him!
'Did you get my pop?' she asked. It was funny how, at thirty, she still felt slightly rebellious whenever she had some of the sweet, fizzy drink. She supposed she'd always be the dentists' daughter, no matter how old she got.
He pulled out a bottle of a brand she hated. Her face fell. 'You did that on purpose,' she miserably said.
'Maybe you could ring up your Muggle loverboy and have him bring you something?' he asked.
She made a face. 'You really are fixated on that.'
'Ah, no. When I went into the shop, I had to hear him lament about how you left him high and dry and promised to contact him this morning but didn't. You owe it to my head to sort that out before I have to go back in there.' He took the groceries to the kitchen area.
Hermione felt her cheeks heat and was thankful that Draco didn't notice. Damn it, she hadn't thought the bloke would so willingly share everything with Draco. That was embarrassing. 'I can't ring him up,' she called after him, 'I have no phone.'
'Sure you do,' he called back. 'You have that little mobile one in your bag. The one you usually use on cases involving Muggles.'
She followed him into the kitchen. 'I didn't think you'd know what that was. Did you get anything that doesn't need cooking?'
'I may be a pure-blood wizard who never spent much time among Muggles, but I'm not entirely stupid. I've seen you use it several times. And, no, I didn't, but I'll cook enough for you too, as long as you talk to that Muggle.'
'I don't want to talk to him!' Hermione said, scowling. 'I know men. Either he'll just pout and vent his wounded ego at me, or he'll try to guilt me into sleeping with him no matter if I want to or not.'
'Didn't think you were a coward. And, besides, I thought you did want to. What was all the fuss about if you didn't?'
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, as he was putting things-including her favourite pop-away. The git really had gotten the bad brand on purpose! 'I am not a coward just for thinking it's not worth the trouble, and I just changed my mind after talking to him! He's too needy by half. Why do you care, anyway? I got the information I promised.'
Draco was looking more annoyed than he had any right to be. 'Honestly, Granger,' he said. 'I preferred it when I didn't know what a bitch you were. To other people, I mean.'
Hermione gaped. 'Fine,' she then said. 'But dinner had better be good.' She turned around and stalked into the bedroom to find her mobile.
Sometimes she wasn't sure why she even tried to get along.
* * *
Draco knew that Hermione didn't appreciate being bullied to confront some random bloke she'd stood up. She certainly scowled and ignored him after she came back from having the conversation, even though she had no problem eating his food.
He honestly didn't even know why it bothered him; it just did. It really made him uncomfortable to have someone he'd known for the better part of the last two decades-who he relied on to keep him alive much of the time-act so contrary to what he'd expect from her. Couldn't she at least pretend to be the person he'd thought he'd known?
Draco was a creature of habit. The unpredictability of his job was really the only unpredictability he wanted in his life. He would very much like for the rest to stay exactly the same as it had always been. At least, unless he actively tried to change it. Unplanned changes were always bad.
After dinner, Hermione announced she was going for a walk, and told him to not wait up. Draco found the timing peculiar, but couldn't decide whether she was going off to meet her Muggle not-so-loverboy again, or whether she just didn't want to help with the washing up.
Maybe it was a little bit of both.
But if she was going off to meet the Muggle, then she didn't have any reason to be mad at Draco. Unless, of course, she was employing the annoying female habit of being mad "on principle". Whatever. He'd do the washing up, but only because she actually had replaced his picture frame today, and with a nicer one at that.
After that, he spent some time trying to figure out how to stop the infernal noise that some Muggles apparently called music. Hermione had obviously set it to repeat over and over and over again. He ended up shutting it off the same way he shut all Muggle electronics off-he found the electrical flex and yanked it from its socket.
Blessed peace.
Debating what to do, he ended up opting for a bath since he would for once be able to take his time without a certain highly annoying witch pounding on the door. Or even better: a long shower. Showers were a thing that largely had seemed to elude the wizarding world, and the one and only thing that Draco actually liked from the Muggle world and missed when he went back. He should really look into getting one installed. It would hardly be a problem, considering that no electricity would be needed. He just needed to find some non-Muggles to set it up.
Maybe some squib somewhere worked as a... whatever a person like that was called. Yes. He had to find someone like that. Maybe he could even get Hermione to help him figure out how, in the name of getting along.
He walked to the bathroom whilst pulling off his jumper and unceremoniously dropping it to the floor, before unfastening his trousers. He didn't mind wearing trousers from time to time, but he very much disliked almost all the Muggle makes he'd had the patience to seek out.
Buying Muggle clothes in wizarding shops was never a smart thing. Those people always got the oddest, most outrageous garments they could find, never anything useful. Having the Ministry acquire clothes for him was little better. They'd get him cheap, ill-fitting brands that still left something to be desired when it came to his tastes and comfort. Not to mention how they'd never find anything that actually matched in any way that could be called even halfway decent. Finally, he'd procured a list of Muggle clothes shops and gone out himself, but walking around Muggle London was more than a little unsettling to him, so he hadn't made it very far before he'd just gone into the nearest shop and bought everything he'd spotted within the first two minutes that was tolerable to him.
Hermione had laughed at him when she'd heard his horror tale.
Come to think of it, though, that year she'd actually given him a pile of Muggle clothes for his birthday. Good clothes, too. Matching, even! In fact, he believed this might be one of the jumpers. He didn't wear Muggle clothes often enough for any wear to really show, so the jumper was still good. He supposed she wasn't always a shrew. It had been very good of her, considering his distress and the fact that they didn't usually exchange presents.
He got rid of the last of his clothes, just leaving everything on the bathroom floor, and made sure the water was warm enough before stepping in the shower. This place had a very cheap-looking shower curtain. He disliked shower curtains. They always made him feel slightly claustrophobic. He preferred those translucent screens. He supposed that if he just kept the shower at an angle so it wouldn't make too much of a mess, and he mopped up afterwards, it wouldn't be too much of a problem not to close the curtain.
Placing his hands against the cool tile, he leant forward, letting the water beat onto his neck and back, loosening the worst of his knots. He was so tense. He always was whenever he was out on a case, but this case was so eventless that he kept waiting for something big to happen. Something horrible. He knew it wouldn't, that there was no greater conspiracy than Potter being an absolute git and treating him and Hermione like kids on a time-out, but calm cases were the worst. It was when you least expected it that disaster struck. When you thought the danger had passed and you allowed yourself to relax and be happy, that was when you lost something important.
But what would he lose? His life? That was always a risk. He'd made his peace with that. Whenever he was seeing someone, he tried to make sure that she could make her peace with it as well. He preferred to live, but his death was always a very real possibility. It was other people's deaths he couldn't handle.
He deliberately tried to relax, rolling his shoulders back and hearing cracking sounds. If he'd been at this cabin with any other witch-any other person-than Hermione Granger, he might have asked them to help rub out the tension because it gave him headaches. However, Hermione's mocking also gave him a headache, and he preferred the headache coming from the knots. Besides, she'd be more likely to make it worse, anyway. She was many things, but gentle was not one of them. She would probably just pinch and poke until he begged her to stop.
Sighing, he straightened and reached for the soap. Even now, she was giving him a headache. He needed to think of something else, but what? Often, he would think about the witch waiting for him at home, but this time there was no witch. Just another ex, lumped into the ever-growing group of exes he should never have become involved with in the first place. Why bother remembering? It only made it harder to move on.
His latest ex had given him an ultimatum: Either he refuse to go on this case with Hermione, or he wouldn't have anyone to come home to.
It had never even occurred to Draco to refuse to go. Telling her that he'd most likely lose his job if he did as she asked hadn't yielded any understanding. He didn't need this job, she'd said. He had the money.
She'd only been half right. He did have the money, but there were other reasons to work than the salary.
Truthfully, he didn't feel any great sadness over walking out on a witch who refused to understand that his needs didn't have to make sense to her to be valid. There had been so many things she hadn't understood about him. She hadn't believed that he was capable of going away for weeks-even months-and be in this close proximity with another witch without being unfaithful. He'd never been unfaithful. Not once. Not to her, not to anyone. Not even if the witch preferred to wait a while before becoming physical, which had been the case this time. And, come to think of it, the time before that. He wasn't some animal who couldn't go without rutting. He could easily go without. Even more easily if he was stuck in a small cabin with Hermione Granger. She really killed his libido.
But Hermione wasn't here now to suppress his libido. Draco leant against the tiles again. When was the last time he'd had any sexual release? Any kind at all? His brow knitted as he thought. He hadn't really considered it for a while, but... ugh, he must really be getting old if he could go this long without even wanking.
Maybe it would help him relax a bit.
He pushed all thoughts from his mind, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the mood wash over him. It shouldn't take long after this amount of time, anyway. Hell, just the thought of the release he would have had his cock responding, pulsing, hardening.
No, not long at all.
Without even removing his hands from the tiles yet, Draco conjured up a fantasy of hands touching him everywhere. Many hands. Different hands. Small hands, long-fingered hands, soft hands, calloused hands... demanding hands. He liked the feel of slightly calloused hands, didn't like to fuck dainty little roses-at least unless they managed to surprise him. They almost never did. His parents had wanted him to marry a fragile little flower of a witch. He hadn't exactly rebelled, but he hadn't felt any attraction to her either. Then he'd met Asteria, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, who loved to ride brooms and climb trees and dance under the stars. Her skin had a constant tan from the sun, her hair was rarely tidy, and her hands had a slightly rough quality to them. Yet, his parents hadn't minded for long. How could they? She'd been lovely.
He concentrated on the feel of one pair of hands, banishing all the others. Yes, this was exactly what he was in the mood for. He willed the owner to kneel before him. Suck. Ugh, that had been even longer than the sex. Not every witch liked doing it, and Draco had to respect their boundaries in the bedroom. He had to match whatever they wanted and pretend not to want anything else, or they would never trust him. There were too many variables, too many reasons not to trust him if he was completely honest with them. But this was his fantasy and the person with the slightly calloused hands didn't mind at all. They were eager to do it. Warm, full, soft lips closed around the head of his cock, making him positively shake with want. Oh, yes, please. Then a tongue leisurely stroked the tip whilst a hand closed around his shaft, making him feel like he'd been taken in deeper.
Draco groaned, dimly realising that at some point he'd given in and grabbed himself and was now painfully slowly mimicking the movements of his fantasy. He'd always preferred to start slow. To wait. To let the sensations build. It was quickly becoming hard to do so, however, as big eyes-what color? Blue! Yes, these were a clear blue-looked up at him, looked him straight in the eyes, whilst his cock was being worshipped by a clever hand, a hot mouth, and a tongue that knew all the exact right places to tease.
He wanted to come, but it was too soon. He had to prolong it. The mouth went away, and the other hand reached down and carefully grabbed his bollocks, lifting them a bit as if weighing them. Then the mouth returned, running down along his shaft, and flicking its tongue out at the root, before moving back up, and taking him in deep, so deep.
There was nothing to do, he had to come now. Imagining the greedy, lustful look in those blue eyes, Draco moved his hand harder and faster, feeling the climax build and then it was there-
He heard a gasp, and his eyes flew wide in shock to see that Hermione had for some reason walked in on him, but it was too late. His eyes closed again on a groan, as he felt the orgasm ripping through him. There was nothing he could do to stop it.
Once he finally opened his eyes again, Hermione was thankfully gone, but unfortunately, the humiliation stayed.
* * *
Note to self: Never assume. Never. Assume. NEVER ASSUME!
Hermione was pacing the living area. She'd assumed. Oops. She'd assumed Draco was in bed either sleeping or reading, and she'd been so far gone in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard the water, she hadn't... thought. She would never have had the imagination to consider the fact that he might be in there, tossing off.
It wasn't actually the first time she'd walked in on him bathing. When you lived together for any period of time, as they had done on several occasions, things happened. This was, however, first time she'd walked in on that and... such perfect timing too!
She couldn't stop a nervous kind of giggle. It was sort of funny. Only not, because Draco was a prude and would be horrified and probably angry too. But still, funny! That was one side of him she'd never thought she'd see. Well, ok, she'd never had any opinion on whether she was going to... see... that much of him-and obviously anything could happen when you were out and about-but she'd certainly never thought she'd see him do that.
Oh, dear.
The image of Draco's horror as he saw her, followed by the pained bliss of his orgasm was really difficult to forget. He was going to be impossible to live with now. Too bad. After that self-loving of his, he might actually have been pleasant to be around with for a while. She had another nervous giggle-fit. Ohh, dear. She covered her face with her hands. Her cheeks were extremely hot.
He came out of the bathroom-thankfully completely dressed, and glowered at her.
Yep, this would go over well. 'Oh, come on!' she burst out. 'It's not like I didn't suspect you were human enough to occasionally do that!'
'That may very well be,' he bit off. 'But I can assure you that I never intended for you to watch.' His cheeks pinkened again, and it seemed like he couldn't even look at her. In fact, he made to go to the bedroom.
She couldn't keep another nervous giggle from escaping, and he froze in place, his entire body going rigid. 'Don't be like that,' she couldn't help saying. 'You have to admit it's a little funny.'
He slowly turned back. 'Shut. Up.' There was nothing funny about the expression on his face or in his voice. 'Some of us don't whore ourselves out every chance we get and have to take care of things when we think we're alone. You invaded my privacy. I see nothing funny about that.' He turned and went into the bedroom, where she very distinctly heard the key turn.
Oh, great. She miserably eyed the sofa. No way she wanted to sleep there. She went over to the door and knocked. No answer.
'I'm sorry, ok?' she tried telling the door. No answer. 'It wasn't like I did it on purpose! I didn't expect you to be there.' She paused. She was still being ignored. 'Come on...' she sighed. 'I promise not to tease you about it. And I won't put it in my report or tell Harry or Ron or any-'
The door flew open, almost before she registered the sound of the key being turned again. 'If you make fun of me behind my back, you'd better pray that you never get signed onto another dangerous case with me, because I will leave you to die,' he growled.
She crossed her arms over her chest. 'No, you won't.'
'Try me.' He began violently closing the door again, but she quickly stuck her foot in, yelping and feeling her eyes water from sheer pain when it got crushed from the force of the door slamming on it, but still not removing it. Maybe next time she used her foot as a door stopper, she should put on a shoe first.
'Damn it, Granger!' he yelled, abruptly letting go of the door and jumping back. 'Are you a complete idiot?'
She shot him an annoyed look, pushed the door open and limped over to the bed, where she sat down, carefully removing her sock and testing the extent of the injury. There was pain, definitely. Ow! Tosser!
'No one in their right mind would do that!' he continued his tirade. 'Can't you ever just let anything go?'
'Why are you yelling?' she yelled back at him. 'You're not the one with an injury!'
'Only to my pride,' he muttered.
'Oh, come off it,' she scoffed. 'You wanked in the shower. Big deal. Who doesn't? But normal people don't throw a complete fit just because they're being teased a little!'
'Yeah? I seem to recall someone threw a fit just because she was teased in front of someone she wanted to bonk!'
'You were ruining my chances! I just embarrassed you a bit when no one else was even there. Did you ever think that I was embarrassed too, and that's why I had to make fun of it?'
'I didn't ruin a thing! That Muggle was so hard up for any kind of action that he didn't care. And yes, I did notice. I had no idea you even could blush! But that does not change the fact that this wasn't about you and you didn't just get humiliated and possibly cock-blocked forever whenever your partner is within as much as a ten mile radius.'
'You know what?' she said, slowly getting back on her feet, biting her lip when leaning on the injured foot caused pain to shoot up her leg. Doggedly she remained standing without taking any of her weight off the leg. 'You can blame me for many things,' she said, once the pain became familiar enough to be bearable. 'But it will never be my fault that you're nothing but some impotent prude!'
Gathering all of her willpower, she stalked out of the bedroom and didn't allow herself as much as the weakest whimper until she'd heard the door slam again.
Next Chapter
Last Chapter
Master List