Love and Other Misfortunes

Chapter 12

Draco slowly became conscious of a sense of satisfaction surrounding him like a blanket. He felt incredible, both exhilarated and exhausted, like he'd just won a Quidditch match. He felt as though he had been shagged within an inch of his life. He could feel it down to his toes; the release in tension throughout his body. It had been ages since he'd had sex, not since—

He became more conscious.

He had had sex.

There was a sated and tender sensation that could only be the result of a night of frenetic coupling.

Sex...

Which should have been completely impossible, given that he had been imbibing enough libido tamping potions to chemically castrated a giant.

There was only one person who had the power to burn through them.

He opened his eyes and found himself tangled up in the arms and legs of a slumbering Hermione. Blurry memories from the previous night slowly began coming back to him. They felt strange, removed from him, like viewing another person's memories through legilimency.

He wasn't exactly surprised. Once he'd bitten her, sealing the bond had only been a question of when. He'd assumed that if he awoke it would be because she had come to him or his magic had reached a point where it couldn't be contained. Either way. The bonding had been inevitable.

He stared at her, savoring the sensation of her body pressed against his. She was a very cuddly sleeper if the octopus-like manner in which she was entwined around him were any indication. He could feel the warmth of her steady breathing against his chest.

The magic of their bond was thrumming happily between them. Set in stone. Tied to their very souls. If he closed his eyes he could feel her heartbeat through it. The relief of feeling her safely alive in his arms made him shudder.

The panic of experiencing her dying had nearly driven him mad.

Standing in the WRA celebration party, he'd felt the bond suddenly become confused and muddled and then she'd disappeared from Diagon Alley as her consciousness slipped completely away. Without the bond he would never have been able to track her to the unplottable house she'd been hidden in.

He suspected it might be a trap, but he could feel her growing fear and couldn't wait. His instincts to protect her overrode any Slytherin calculation he might have ordinarily made.

It had been a mistake. Almost soon as he tore through the wards he knew it had been a mistake. They had been waiting for him. He'd barely crossed the threshold of the house before Hermione's fear spiked dramatically and she was dying. It was like his sense of her was being sucked down a whirlpool.

Who ever it was, he suspected they hadn't wanted to kill her. The timing was too precise. They wanted Hermione mostly dead by the time he got there, so that there would only be one way for him to keep her alive. The puppeteer who had been moving more and more aggressively to make him to bond Hermione had finally checkmated him.

Draco pulled Hermione against himself firmly. The relief of having her safe and in his arms was enough to make him weep. He wanted to kiss her deeply on the mouth, and then gradually across her entire body so that he could memorise every inch of her beneath his lips. He wanted to make love to her, slowly, the way he'd always dreamed of, rather than the animalistic mating frenzy it'd been last night.

The memories of it remained hazy, but his recollection of thrusting into Hermione's body as she lay spread out under him, seizing with pleasure; that was vivid.

He grew hard.

The more he tried not to think about it the more he began remembering. The breathy moans as he pulled her bra away and fondled her perfect breasts. And the way she had pulled him down to kiss her, hungrily, her irises blown wide with arousal as he slid inside her. The arch of her back and the way her fingers had tangled in his hair when he tasted her. The way she has peppered open-mouthed kisses from his jaw down to his cock, her tongue flicking out and dancing over his skin with every kiss. And the sensation of her hand, gripping him, guiding him inside her as she rode him.