By: ScarletDeva
Author’s Note: Damn muse is haunting me. It’s hard to say no to a maniacal pyromaniac Druid… This part was actually pretty hard to write… a little more graphic than usual perhaps…
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours probably either. Oh well.
Rating: NC-17
Review Responses:
‘HarryPotterWanter’ – Okay now I’ll just say that your review inspired this part of MOO. Thanks. Enjoy.
‘Fiery Slut’ – Don’t worry about being vulgar. You didn’t mention anything I wasn’t contemplating. I hope you’ll like the rest of this series as much.
‘Sungurl8’ – You made me all sniffly! That is the best compliment an author can get. I hope I can live up to that.
‘Jade’ – I’m really glad you like it. I really tried not to make this into a PWP and it’s nice to see that you think I succeeded.
‘shadow’ – You’re right. I’m not too clear on ratings. Anyway I’m glad you like it. I tried very hard to keep this about the characters and not just the sex.
‘J. Rolande’ – More relationship development coming right up. Enjoy. J
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Part 4: When He Ran From The
Dark
Draco Apparated into Hogsmeade and immediately broke into a run. The full moon highlighted his drawn, angular features, his face paler than usual, his eyes wide and wild looking. His breaths dragged in and out of his lungs in uneven gasps. Hogwarts, he had to get back to Hogwarts, away from the images in his head, away from everything. He brought up one fist and unfurled his fingers, smacking them harshly across his face, using the pain to distract himself. It worked for but a moment, all the images flowing before his eyes the moment the stinging sensation receded.
Lucius had finally gotten to him. He caught him in Hogsmeade and bodily dragged him back to the Malfoy Manor, then to a secret Death Eater meeting. Draco shuddered as he walked into the hall, all the faces full of bloodlust and lined with cruelty. He did not really care about Muggles one way or the other but this was crazy… beyond crazy. Lucius sat him down and gave him the look that Draco knew meant severe consequences for him in the chance that he did something unacceptable. His skin burned hot and cold at the same time and then Lucius announced what they were there for. Muggle torture. The rest was a blur of blood and screams, Dark Curses and fire. Draco could only remember how his muscles clenched painfully in an effort not to lunge up and bolt out of there. He had no chance against the congregation and he knew it. When it was finally over, he ran outside and threw up under a wilted rose bush.
His legs pumped hard, utilizing ever bit of his strength and stamina, running from the horror he’d witnessed, his father, the Wizard world that created that monstrosity. He ran over to a decrepit building and snuck in, finding the secret entry into Hogwarts with a practiced brush of his fingers. His feet pounded against the stone floor of the passage in a quick, frantic tattoo. He dashed the length of it and emerged into Hogwarts, his hair windswept and his robes slightly wrinkled. For Draco Malfoy, that was an image no one was accustomed to. If anyone had seen him, there would be a lot of intense rumor mongering, but luckily it was hours after curfew.
Without a second thought he headed straight for the Hogwarts Squad Leaders’ Command Headquarters. Hermione was known for staying there late most nights to keep working on new and old plans, obviously taking her position as Head Strategist very seriously. Draco pushed himself harder. Hermione was the only thing that would make the screams stop, the blood disappear, the pain turn to pleasure. He turned the last corner, barged into the door and stopped.
Hermione stood in front of a paper-laden table, her head bent and her wildly curly hair bound into a messy ponytail. Her red skirt and black sweater did little to hide what was under them for Draco had all those features firmly memorized. He exhaled slowly and wondered if she was ignoring him. There was no way she did not know he was there. Well if that was how she wanted to play, he’d do it her way.
He stalked up to her and set his hands on her legs right below the hem of her skirt. She made a tiny sound in her throat and his hands traveled up ever so slowly. His still ragged breathing only became more so as he pressed himself against her back and allowed his fingertips to brush against her inner thighs.
Her hands dropped the papers and grasped his wrists, squeezing almost painfully, not to hinder movement but almost in encouragement. She had just been reviewing past missions, making tallies of failures and losses. It was her job to prevent those. She hadn’t. Whatever he could do to make her forget would welcomed eagerly.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered quietly, needing to take control, almost aching to be able to affect anything in a world that suddenly made no sense at all. She shivered and he brought his right hand up to brush across her tightly shut eyelids, her own hands leaving his wrists to grip his ass firmly, trying to push him closer. Satisfied with her compliance, he lowered his hand, slipping it under her skirt to massage her hip, while his other hand danced delicately over her panties. She parted her legs further in response. He inhaled slowly, her shampoo smelling like a forest does after the rain, with a faint undertone of jasmine, erasing the scent of blood and smoke and alcohol. His right hand rubbed circles from her hip over to her stomach, feeling the softness of her skin over the toned muscles. He nuzzled her shoulder and kissed his way to the side of her neck, biting it softly as his left hand pressed more firmly between her legs, feeling a distinct wetness seeping through the cloth barrier.
She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, worrying it harshly with her teeth. She did not mind letting him dictate the encounter, in fact some part of her craved letting go, not being responsible for anything. There was something wicked about it, something free and she wanted more, much more. Her fingers kneaded his firm flesh through the layers of clothes and she pressed herself back into his hard body.
He stifled his moan, unwilling to allow her to know how she affected him. This was his night and he wanted to be the one doing the affecting, drawing helpless moans from her mouth. He meant to tease her thoroughly, make her burn, lose himself in her, leaving the outside world firmly outside of the room. He withdrew his hand from her stomach and moved it under her shirt, brushing the underside of her chest lightly. He rubbed his other hand against the wet fabric, moving his tongue against her neck in the same rhythm. She whimpered, her fingers shifting restlessly against his ass. He stroked his fingers over her bra, finding a pebbled nub straining against it and tweaked it. She groaned now, her voice low and raspy. He dragged his blunt canines over her pulsing artery, feeling his own blood pound sharply behind his eyes and between his legs, his fitted pants almost hurting against his stiffness. She was making it all disappear, fade into a harmless smoke that drifted away with each caress of his fingers. If he believed in God he would be thanking Him just then, grateful for this moment with her, for all other moments like this, praying for more, many more. He moved his touch from one nipple to the other, flicking it into hardness before pulling up her bra to allow himself skin to skin contact.
She moved her hips in tiny circles, trying to force more contact with his questing fingers as well as the familiar hardness that was pressed up against her behind. He was driving her crazy, creating a sweet ache that twirled within her skin driving everything else away. A sharp gasp tore out of her throat as she felt his hand push her underwear aside and softly caress the newly exposed skin.
“Dray… Draco,” she moaned, the increasing throbbing under his ministrations demanding more.
“Shh,” he commanded in a husky whisper, his fingers delicately feeling out the trimmed hairs and the slick skin beneath. His other hand roamed freely over her chest, pinching, tweaking. He felt her chest rise and fall as she swallowed loud gasps of air in an apparent effort to control herself and he couldn’t resist hampering her attempt by finding a wet, tight nub under his fingers and squeezing it gently. Her latest breath rushed out in a shudder, which ran all over her body. His hips nudged forward deliberately as his fingers entered into her for a moment before returning to the nub and tweaking it slowly and repeatedly. Her grip on his behind, which had relaxed somewhat, now tightened so much he was sure that he’d have marks even with all the clothes between her nails and his skin. Her body slid down a little bit against his, the shaking intensifying as his fingers moved faster. This was what he wanted, this control, this acknowledgement that she was his just then, then her body was his.
He removed his hand from her chest and nudged her back forward, bending her at the waist, as her arms came forward automatically, her palms bracing against the table. He unzipped his pants in a hurry, almost hurting himself in the process and positioned himself properly, with his hand still busying itself between her legs, the other one also braced against the table. One smooth move and he was inside her, one thought spared to the definite probability that he will not last that much longer.
She felt him enter her from behind and if any thoughts had been lingering anywhere near her mind that one action would have dispelled them. His pace was brutal, overwhelming and she pushed back, meeting him at every move.
***
Draco used the last bit of his energy to slow down for one moment before one last wicked slam, which had him roaring her name.
She shuddered and slumped forward onto the table as tremors traveled her body. She kept silent as the explosion within her seemed to create fireworks before her eyes.
He drew in several quivering breaths before sinking to a seated position on the floor and taking her down with him, settling into his lap. He briefly kissed her shoulder before laying his head onto it. There would be no talking that night.