Chapter Text
Chapter 1 Hermione
He grabbed my hair tightly around his fist pulling ever so slightly so my eyes were level with his. I gasped not in pain but at the electricity tingling down my spine. His steel grey eyes narrow dangerously, challengingly and yet I couldn’t dismiss the arousal staring back at me. He wanted me just as much as I had wanted him. I watched in both fear and anticipation, as his eyes turned to molten mercury, climbing up my body. I felt that stare like a sensual caress.
“Come on, Granger, tell me,” He purred, as his body leaned against mine, pushing me further against the library wall. I gasped as his other hand sprawled hotly between my thighs.
I swallowed watching as his platinum blonde hair fell seductively in front of his eyes, making my fingers itch to remove it. I was paralyzed unable to move, I could only stare and wait
“Should I bend you over this desk and fuck you until oblivion or would you prefer against the bookshelf.” Instantly my knickers were wet and my nipples were tight. I watched as one side of his lip turned up, not at all unaware of what he was doing to me. I stiffened as his nails racked up my thigh causing a hiss to leave my mouth.
“Ah, wait.” I said breathlessly as his hand jerked my panties to the side roughly. I was panting as his other hand pulled my hair back further, exposing my neck to him like his favorite treat on a silver platter. I heard the groan of delight as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning the skin beneath my ear. A shiver racked my back at the sensation. Suddenly, his teeth bit down into my neck without remorse, the same moment his fingers plunged deep into my core.
“Oh,” I moaned at the pleasure and pain that set my blood on fire. My arousal filled the air, falling down my thigh moments before he pushed deeper inside. I whimpered as his nails grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of me causing my hips to buckle. His other hand covered my mouth, preventing a scream from leaving. His grey eyes darkened with heat as his hot skin laid against mine pining me to the wall.
“Tsk tsk, now Granger. Can’t be too loud. Someone might hear us.” He growled into my ear, seconds before his hands jerked, pulsing his fingers in and out of me rapidly. My arousal builder. He was merciless as he fucked me with his fingers, giving me no reprieve as he force the moan from my lips. If his body wasn’t holding me up I fear I would fall.
“Wait,” I pleaded.
“There's no more waiting. Granger, I’ve watched you prances around in your little knee length skirts for far too long. My cock will be inside you today. So buckle up baby, as far as i’m concerned you are mine and I fuck what’s mine.” My breath hitched. I felt him inside me, pushing harder and faster causing the orgasm to rip right through me. I screamed, soaking his fingers.
“Dr..”
“Ma’am, your coffee is ready.”
Her hands stilled on the journal before her as reality came rushing back. The noise in the coffee shop grew, lightening all her senses. She managed a hesitant nod, shutting her journal before making her way up front to grab her coffee. The noise of the cafe seemed louder, more intense, causing the peace she felt moments ago to disappear. She could feel her palms sweating as she made her way closer and closer to the counter.
It's been close to four years since the war and she still hated the feeling of being touched. She pushed her sleeve further down her arm before wrapping her left arm around her waist as if to protect it. Bellatrix's handy work was still scrawled along her arm, a blatant reminder of what Bellatrix had done to her. No amount of magic could erase it. Even now years later she could feel the pain of the knife slicing through her skin. Still hear that woman's voice screaming in her ear, calling her all those vile things. Those grey eyes staring into hers. Just the same, it wasn’t the war that broke her. No, it was what happened after that was her final straw.
She was not the same witch she used to be. Whatever fire she used to have in her was gone. The year after Voldemort died had killed her. Murdered the last of her peace. War does not just simply end when the villain dies. Everyone expected her to be able to figure out how to pick up the pieces. To fix it all. She was after all the brightest witch of her age. A war heroine.
No one understood that she was damaged. The things she went through and had to do was eating away at her. The stress became too much, the guilt of not being able to fix it all. She was slowly but surely dying. The sleepless night, panic attacks, and uneaten meals Even through all that she was still fighting. Still trying. No, Ron was the final straw. The ultimate betrayal. The thing that killed her.
She moved tentatively, hesitantly not wanting anyone to come too close but it was crowded today. Her wild curls fell forward as she looked down shielding her face. A familiar move, she couldn’t let go even now years after the war. It was just as she had made it to the counter inches away from her coffee, when someone came out of nowhere and slammed into her. She fell, crashing to the floor. The noise in the cafe disappeared as every eye in the place landed on her. She hissed, squeezing her eyes shut as her back side roared with pain. She opened her eyes and froze. Even as everyone dismissed her getting back to their lives. Her eyes never moved.
There standing before her in nothing more than a black three piece suit was none other than Draco Malfoy. She hadn’t seen him since his trial. He was thinner than, face shrunken in from stress and trauma he sustained during the war. She recalled the haunted look in his blue eyes that she could still see in them now. It didn’t matter that Draco was only a child when he was forced to become a death eater or that he had remained quiet even when Bellatrix asked him of Harry’s identity. He refused to answer. He knew it was Harry and yet he had kept quiet. Even as she stood during his trial in front of everyone, recalling every last bit of her memory trying to vouch for him. She still remembers the shocked look on his face as she spoke. It didn’t matter. The ministry deemed him an enemy anyways saying no matter the circumstances a death eater needed to be made an example off.
She knew that of course. She just didn’t like it. She still sighed in relief when he received only a year in Azkaban than the normal five like most. She had sent him one letter during his time. One just before she had left everything behind. She always wondered if he had gotten it. As she laid there unable to move seeing how much he had changed. He stood before her looking even taller than she remembered. Every bit the man she had pictured he would become. The only flaw she could see was the scar that ran along his brow that somehow made him even more handsome to her eyes. She watched as he stared back at her as if she was nothing more than a disgusting bug he would love to squash just before recognition filled his eyes.
“Granger?” He said lightly, as his eyes widened in shock, just before it disappeared completely and a hard look of disdain replaced it. “What…How are you here?” He growled with a sneer. “You can’t be here?” The blue of his eyes practically disappeared as they dilated with rage. He was shaking, shaking his head back and forth as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. She was confused by his reaction just before she realized how understandable his reaction had been.
It was like getting splashed with ice water as everything came rushing back. She forgot. How could she forget? She was dead. She sprang to her feet as fear filled her veins. She wouldn't be caught. She couldn’t. She would never go back there. She had left that life behind. The Cappuccino machine steamed making a loud noise beside them, dousing Draco in a cloud of steam. She turned and fled, taking advantage as Draco jerked back. She ran, hearing her name behind her, she didn’t stop. She kept running, her eyes going wide until they connected to the bathroom door. The second she was behind closed doors she apparated. Her legs made contact with the ground, she collapsed, struggling to breathe.
How could she freeze like that? Magic came naturally to her; like breathing. Why did she hesitate? She should have done something. Hell, she could freeze the place, obliviate his mind, and be gone before anyone realized what happened but she just sat there. What if he tells someone? Fear flooded her veins. They’ll come for her. She sat on the floor of her flat, rocking back and forth, trying to slow her racing heart. She should have done something when she had the chance. It was Draco after all. She knew she could take him but all she could do was lay there and look up into those grey storm filled eyes. Those eyes that even now, years later haunted her dreams. She swallowed, knowing she wasn’t the witch she used to be.
She stood on weak knees looking around her small flat and wondered if it was time to leave. The question though was could she disappear again? She thought about her job at the library, how much she enjoyed it. She didn’t really have too many friends. Mostly she spent her mornings working, stacking shelves and nights in her flat with a cup of tea and her journal beside her writing about things she shouldn’t be writing about. Filling the pages with fantasies she longed to experience. Instinctively, her hand reached for her backpack and came up with nothing. She gasped looking around, finding her bag nowhere beside her. Oh god, she thought, realizing she left her bag and her journal at her table. She had left everything behind. Her nails dug into her fist, squeezing them tight as she realized she wasn’t going anywhere. Not until her journal was safely back in her hands.
It was the only thing she had. She couldn’t just leave it. It held all her most intimate thoughts and feelings. She grabbed her wand from her coat pocket wrapping the cool wood in her hands, allowing the feel of the wood to ground her. She had to be ready. She could do this even as her hands began to shake, she couldn’t just leave it behind.