Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: unbroken_halo
From: glitter_pink

Title: Traditions
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Light bondage, Possessiveness
Other Warnings/Content: none
Word Count: 1761
Summary/Description: Hermione is preparing to jump though hoops to marry Draco. He has second thoughts.
Author's Notes: Dearest prompter, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I tried to keep it light hearted and possessive! Your prompt was beautiful and I’m so pleased I was able to snag it! Much love! <3 Deepest thanks to J and R for their patience and help with and for the Lemony-Snicketesque life turns I had. You’re the best!



“Hermione, I don’t want you to do this,” Draco drawled, his face drawn into a petulant pout. I did not want to have this conversation whilst exposed in little else but my knickers, but I’d learned early on that if he wanted to have a conversation, it was better to have at it than avoid it. He only got more slippery the longer he had to stew about it.

I rolled my eyes as I snipped the twine on a Malkin’s box with my wand and held the contents in contention up to the light. In my hands were a set of gossamer Appraisal Robes so delicate that I feared my fingertips would go right through with enough pressure. The thin white silk shimmered prettily enough in the light, I supposed, but they represented so much suffocating, pure-blooded wizarding tradition that my fingers itched to drop them into fire crackling merrily on the hearth nearby. Privately, I rather agreed with Draco. I didn’t want to do it either. I sighed, sitting on the edge of our bed and drawing the debut robes into my lap.

“We’ve discussed this. More than once,” I replied crisply. “And you insisted that this was the best way to show your mother that we’re serious about the wedding. She wants to see the tradition upheld, you want to please your mum…This is important to you, meaning that it’s important to me.”

Draco paced in front of the fire, his dark slacks cutting a sharp silhouette in the glow. He’d run a hand through his hair while I’d been focused on the cloth in my hands, and the mussed edges, however slight, it made him look softer- more vulnerable. I smiled brightly when he caught me inspecting his face, frustration written in his gaze. I wanted to smother it all away in a flurry of kisses, though I do admit I liked seeing him so riled on my behalf.

“Yes, but the more I think about it, the more I think it’s a terrible idea,” Draco insisted. “You’ll be on display, Hermione. Those robes won’t cover much of anything, and they’ll be appraising you. Not to mention that no muggleborn has-”

“Ho ho,” I chuckled, interrupting him. “Are you afraid I’ll fetch a Bride Price that even the famous Malfoy Coffers can’t pay? Brightest witch of my age, if you recall. War Hero too. ”

I think I caught a twist of a wry grin on his face before he wiped it away into a scowl. Something in me relaxed a little. I knew that what Draco feared most of all was that I would stand inspected and found wanting because of my blood purity. A possibility, though I thought it unlikely. It would take many clandestine dealings to make something like that happen without the Prophet finding out and causing a scandal. Since Voldemort’s fall, blood prejudice was very much Out Of Fashion.

I stood, running my hand up his arm to twine my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The robes slithered, forgotten, to the floor.

He chuckled sardonically. “Witch, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“To the contrary, Mr Malfoy, together we shall live forever, lording our youth and beauty over Harry and Pansy and Ron until the end of time.”

I felt Draco press his lips into my hair to hide another smile and I wrapped my arms around him, drinking in his warmth. In school I’d always thought Draco to be icy and cold, but the war had changed all of us, a little. His laughter was a furnace, and I soaked up the heat whenever I could.

“That is very Slytherin of you,” he assessed, planting a smacking kiss upon my lips. “I approve, though I would caution you to not say as much in Pansy’s company. She casts a mean jinx when provoked.”

I bent slowly to collect the robes from the floor, making sure to give Draco a fetching view of my knicker-clad arse before I straightened again, sliding the silk around my shoulders, grinning impishly. The fabric glided over creamy skin and bare breasts to pool at my feet, leaving exactly nothing to the imagination. Clearly he’d been so distracted by the problem at hand that he’d forgotten my state of dress. I was not above using this to my advantage.

“Perhaps there’s been some rubbing off these past two years,” I agreed demurely. He stepped behind me to curl his fingers protectively around my hips, slipping under the delicate lace of my knickers to caress the flesh beneath. His touch was feather light and I leaned back into him.

“I can’t stand the idea of anyone looking at you as I do,” He whispered quietly in my ear, his voice a dark rumble. I could feel a tightening in my belly in response. His lips burned hot as they slid down my neck. He paused at my shoulder to give it a nip and my breath caught in my throat.

“You’re mine. Nothing will change that.” Spinning me around to face him, he crashed his mouth to mine and backed me toward the bed. My hands worked at all the impossible buttons on his shirt as we tripped over the edges of my robes in our haste. I heard tearing, but I couldn’t tell if it was my robes or his shirt in the need to feel his skin on mine. My pulse skittered and pounded, heat pooling low in my belly.

The skin of his chest, dusted with golden hair and mapped with the faint scars I’d counted dozens of times, was flushed red. I took my time, exploring every firm inch of his exposed skin. I lathed his nipple with my tongue and smirked when he almost purred, deep in his throat. It was my favourite sound in the whole of the world.

I was fumbling at the buckle of his belt with shaking hands, desperate to see and feel all of him, but he grabbed my wrists firmly, pinning them over my head as he lazily explored my breasts with his mouth. I ached to touch him, playfully tugging at his restraining hand, but he held me easily. His eyes, so blue, never left mine as he claimed a nipple, rolling his tongue around the pert tip and over the swell of pink flesh. I broke his gaze then, my head rolling back as I moaned.

“Please, I want to touch you,” I begged, wrapping my legs around him, pressing my heat against his erection, restrained dubiously by his slacks.

Draco only muttered a spell in response, and my hands were immobile on the bed, leaving his hands free to claim me as he saw fit. They skated under my breasts, over my ribcage, past my hips to drag teasingly over my mons. I writhed, annoyed at the lack of control I had, but desperate for more contact.

I thought I had won a small victory when he pulled away to remove the last of his clothes. His erection bobbed hotly against my thigh as he returned to his ministrations as if I wasn’t desperate to touch him.

He pressed my thighs open, teasing with a brush of a single fingertip against my clitoris. I hissed as lightning skittered all the way down to my toes.

“Mine,” Draco murmured, dipping his fingers more firmly into my folds. “You’re mine. And nobody is to determine your worth but you and I. Do you understand?”

I wriggled, needing more contact. His naked skin was a brand where we touched. I strained closer. I could feel my wetness dripping to the sheets below. He slowly stroked deeper, adding a finger but not breaking eye contact for a moment. His face was so determined, so possessive that I couldn’t help but agree. I nodded, my mouth too dry for words.

“Say it,” he demanded, twisting his fingers inside me until I couldn’t breathe. I was skating so close to the precipice.

“Yes,” was all I could manage, my lips were dry and my body quivering.

In seconds he was buried inside me, taking full possession of me. My body and his knew on another well, and we crashed together desperately. At some point he released the restraint spell on my hands and I was clinging to him, my fingernails biting into his shoulders as we arched together in a practiced rhythm. I understood what he needed and soon his thrusts were erratic and the only sounds were gasps, sighs and the slapping of skin on skin.

It rarely happened, but this time we came together, our breathing ragged and my body thrumming pleasantly with the aftershocks as he buried his face in my neck. My over-sensitive skin tickled every time he exhaled and I kissed his brow gently, smoothing his hair back.

Panting, we fell together on the sheets, our sweat slicked skin slowly drying and leaving gooseflesh behind. My hair was everywhere and it took a few adjustments until his arm curled under my head without pulling . He traced an elegant finger along my collar bone, up my neck to the shell of my ear. It was a fond, comforting habit and I responded by snuggling closer to him, feeling pleasantly sore and well loved.

“I still don’t like this,” Draco muttered, though less frustrated than he had been before. “The idea of you on display while morons appraise your worth as my wife is utter rubbish. Hermione, you’re worth everything I have and more. Bugger my mother’s blessing. Don’t do it.”

I cupped Draco’s cheek with my hand. He was never this direct. Draco liked his wiles, guiding and cajoling people into his way of thinking. My heart swelled.

“Well,” I said after a long moment. “We could always elope.”

Draco threw back his head and laughed, the helpless sort of laughter that I’d never him have at school or with his old friends. It was special for me, and precious. I poked him in the ribs.

“Ow,” he winced, rubbing at the spot. Coming up on one elbow, he regarded me seriously. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Smiling widely I searched for any sign that he was joking. His face was placid, not a hint of sarcasm or trickery. I found myself nodding.

“Right. Lets. Draco Malfoy, you might just be the death of me.”

“We’re going to be immortal, remember,” he whispered playfully, claiming my mouth with his.

And in that moment I did not doubt him.