wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2011-03-13 01:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, 2011, draco, hermione |
Special delivery for inspired_ideas
Title: Trouble at the Manor
Author/Artist:
Recipient's LJ name: inspired_ideas
Pairing(s): Draco/Hermione
Rating:NC-17
Summary Auror Hermione Granger thought that this would be an easy mission, but she was proven wrong. What secrets harbours the Malfoy manor and the young Lord Malfoy?
Word Count: (if fic) 14,258
Warnings/Content: Fluff, smut, mild OOC
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. I don’t make anything from writing this.
Author's/Artist's notes:
‘Granger, oi, come with me to the front, Potter says there’s an important announcement today.’
Hermione looked up from the pile of paperwork on her desk. She didn’t want to get up, trot up the isle between dozens of Auror cubicles and hear whatever new motivational bullock Harry had come up with. She loved Harry, he was her best friend after all, but since he had gotten promoted to Deputy Head Auror he had tried to make everyone cheerier. It did improve the atmosphere, but she just didn’t want to listen to the boys reciting some new jokes they read or doing a ‘quick and happy’ stretching session.
She shrugged on her uniform outer robe and slowly walked towards the front of the room, where Harry had made an ‘open meeting space’ with freely movable seating, so no stern conference rooms.
A lot of the Aurors on duty that day were already chatting loudly, apparently something exciting had happened.
Harry smiled at her and she just wished the meeting would be over right away.
‘Well, we have some good news!’ Harry announced cheerfully. ‘Draco Malfoy has offered to donate the department twenty new Nimbus 2013 Special Edition brooms!’
The room erupted in cheers.
‘His only wish is that we send someone to investigate what has been wreaking havoc in his house. I know that Wilkins didn’t find anything extraordinary when he checked in there last week, but I think someone needs to do a careful investigation till all his concerns are addressed.’
Unhappy sighs sounded in the room. ‘We will draw straws. The one who gets the shortest will be assigned to the mission. The Auror will have to work there till it is solved. I must stress that even though this mission seems unimportant, the donation would improve our gear department immensely. A few of you know how much one of these brooms costs, and twenty of them equal a year’s equipment budget for the department.’
Everyone nodded in agreement. They all respected Harry very much. Hermione wished she had not been on duty today. She didn’t even want to think about the manor, much less go there. Too many painful memories still sought her out.
Harry produced a black bag. ‘So if everyone would pick a straw quickly…’
One after another the Aurors put their hand in the bag and grabbed a straw. Hermione put her hand in the bag and grabbed something. She gasped as she realised that her straw was the shortest.
The others quickly slung away, leaving her with Harry alone in the front of the room.
‘Harry, you know what happened in the manor…’ she whined.
‘It was years ago, during the war. The Malfoys have become good citizens since then and they have the right to receive help if they suspect something untoward is happening in their property.’
Hermione sighed. ‘How long will I have to stay there? Wilkins didn’t find anything!’
‘You will have to stay for as long as needed. You are not swamped with cases right now anyway.’
Hermione knew that she hadn’t been up to scratch recently. Her last case, a trio of house elves gone missing, she had suspected they had been murdered by their old and moody master, had been solved when a pub landlord from Bath had delivered the elves to the office totally sloshed. So her suspicions were wrong. Now she was working on a girl-elf gone missing but there were no leads.
‘And this case may actually do a lot of good, not only for the Aurory’s dusty old broom cupboards, but you’d also help someone in distress.’
She knew that Harry was right. She was just feeling out of sorts ever since the gory murder they had investigated together three months ago. It had made her question if she was cut out for this job.
She saw that Harry was not going to listen to her arguments as he was looking at her expectantly and tapping his foot a little.
‘What time do I have to be there?’ she asked, defeated.
‘Around seven. Malfoy said that the occurrences happen after dark,’ Harry told her sternly, not leaving any room for arguments.
She turned to walk away. ‘And you never know, maybe Malfoy just has a boggart stuck in his loo or something silly like that.’
Harry attempt to cheer her up didn’t work. But it was not his fault. It was her own doing. She didn’t know why she felt so sad recently. Maybe Ron and Lavender’s wedding had gotten to her more than she was willing to admit.
It was a dark and stormy night when Hermione arrived at the gates of the manor. In most normal wizarding houses the Aurory could just Apparate in. The Malfoys had applied for special security clearance to have special wards. Always needing to be the special snowflakes, Hermione thought as she pushed the heavy wrought iron gate open. It creaked but let her pass. The manor looked positively sinister, bathed in the light of the thunder and lightning. A loud crack sounded as lightning struck a grand tree a few paces away from her. Rain began to pour down like a bucket with its bottom loose, and she tried to cast an impervious charm, but it didn’t work. Special snowflakes my ass, Hermione thought as she vaguely remember that the special clearance also meant that no one could cast spells without the Malfoy’s permission.
She huffed and dragged herself forward. The heavy case of magical instruments made her shoulders slump. Damn them, they were not practical to shrink, as after that they needed to be left alone to rebalance for eight hours. She didn’t have that time now. She wanted to be out of this house of horrors as soon as possible.
She cursed under her breath as she stepped into a large puddle on the fine pavement. Her Muggle-made cloth sneaker soaked the water right in. Finally, she reached the grand door and grabbed the brass knocker. She banged it against the door with great anger. She didn’t want to be here.
The door swung open and she was blinded by the light for a moment.
‘Please come in, don’t stand in the rain,’ she heard a voice murmur but she was just stomping forward, towards the light. She pushed her way ahead and ignored the fact that she had run into someone.
She put her heavy case on the marble floor with a loud bang.
‘So, what’s the problem?’ she asked, looking around the entryway. It did look very different from how she remembered it. The room seemed bright and airy, even though it was lit only by the light of candles, torches and a grand fireplace.
‘Would you like some tea? Anything? I am very relieved that Potter sent someone so quickly.’
Draco Malfoy came into her line of sight. She scowled at him.
‘No, thank you. I just want to get this done and be on my way home.’
She opened the case and placed different instruments on the floor. The instruments didn’t react. It could take a few moments for them to register anything untoward.
‘Can you tell me what happened here?’ she asked, not looking at her host. She had read the report Wilkins had written. There was surely nothing here. Malfoy surely imagined the howls in his mind. And the broken vases, torn paintings and missing food items were also his doing. He was one who always needed to be the centre of attention. He was probably upset that the magazines had not featured him enough.
‘Well, there’s for one, howls at night, soul wrenching sounds coming from nowhere. Then the sliding and scrapping on the hardwood floors, it terrifies me as it reminds me of Nagini’s tail hitting the floor when he slithered around the manor…’
Hermione took a deep breath. She didn’t need to be reminded of those bad, bad times.
‘Several portraits have been torn up, just last night, mine.’ He picked up a large frame and showed her the painting. It had been slashed in neat, vertical cuts.
‘Many valuable vases and rare potted plants have been destroyed. And the elves report food items missing from the kitchen.’
‘My instruments show nothing out of ordinary here. If you could stand back, I will cast diagnostic spells to see what else may be wrong.’
She concentrated on the spellwork and not on her soggy robe and the absolutely freezing sneakers. She swished a strand of her wet and dripping hair out of her eyes and cast spell after spell.
After the thirteenth diagnostic spell she was lost. The Aurory used only six spells normally but she had used variations of them, and still no result. No ghosts, ghouls or poltergeists were found. Nor a sign of human or half human creatures. No magical creatures as such. What on earth was wrong with this place?
She turned to search for her host. She had fully expected that he would spout some smart-arse comments about her being incompetent to do the job, or maybe something pettier, like telling her that she was making the marble floor messy.
But he was not paying any attention to her. He was sitting on a settee, his back straight and his long legs crossed and staring at his polished black shoes. It was as if she wasn’t even there! It made her feel mad. Why was he so… so… she didn’t have the words for it.
She began to pack her instruments away.
‘I can not yet detect anything.’ She waited for his response to her announcement. He just nodded.
He stood up and walked towards her. She straightened her back, ready for any barb coming at her. She put the last instrument into the case and closed it.
‘If it is agreeable with you, you can put your things away in your room, then pick out something dry to wear and then dinner could be served.’
She just dumbly nodded. He was just too polite. Maybe there was something he didn’t say.
‘I don’t have any spare clothes with me. We can go straight to dinner.’
He picked up her heavy case and began to stride up the stairway. She shuffled after him.
‘Don’t worry. You can use clothes from my mother’s spare closet. They are new and almost unworn things. There are all kinds of clothes in there. I think that would be more comfortable than drying your own clothes now.’
She huffed. In a way, he was right. The clothes dried by magic would feel papery and crusty. Not too comfortable.
‘Wouldn’t she be mad if someone took them?’ she asked, well knowing that she was trying to pick a petty fight.
‘Not at all. She would be happy that her wardrobe assisted an Auror to feel comfortable during a mission here.’
She wanted to gasp. Why was he not saying a word about her blood status? Some jibe about how unworthy she was? Maybe it was low of her to assume that he would. But hearing Draco Malfoy say such normal, polite words was odd.
Maybe the untoward thing happening here was that the real Draco Malfoy had been replaced with a Hermione Granger-Friendly Clone.
He stopped at a door and opened it slowly. The chandelier lit up immediately and he walked into the room.
‘This is going to be your room for the duration of your stay. If you would like another room, do let me know now.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ she said as she looked around the room. It was decorated in light green tones, silk and brocade curtains lines the grand windows. The finely carved cherry wood bed with beautiful green bedding was also inviting. Most people usually let the Aurors sleep on a couch.
‘My room is exactly opposite yours, I thought it would help with the case.’
‘Would you like to go and get some clothes now? Please feel free to pick anything you like there. I wouldn’t want you to get a cold from being in soaked clothes for too long.’
She felt so stupid. Why hadn’t she cast a drying charm at least on her hair? She was surely making Malfoy laugh inside. A silly girl in drenched clothes and a dripping mess of hair.
‘Show me where the clothes are,’ she finally said, trying to sound as careless and professional as possible. Aurors were supposed to command respect, not stand around like soaked water rats.
He nodded and walked a few steps ahead of her and held the door open for her. She stopped for a moment. Was he going to slam it in her face? He waited patiently for her to pass. She couldn’t stand around like an idiot, so she followed him.
He walked slowly through a maze of corridors till he reached a white door decorated with carvings of roses and other flowers. ‘This is my mother’s spare closet. If you want, you can pick out nightwear and the clothes to wear for tomorrow now, but if you want to do that after dinner, that’s fine too. I will just wait here. Take your time.’
She slowly opened the door and walked in, fully expecting a small dressing room with a closet and shoe rack.
However, her jaw dropped when she saw the room. It was probably bigger than her entire flat. Sure, she rented a small crappy place with old furniture and a constantly blocked sink. Her closet at home consisted of a few Aurory issued uniforms, old baggy jeans and an assortment of well worn t shirts, old hand-down Quidditch jerseys from Ron and Harry and a pile of Weasley sweaters that meant that most of her clothing needs were met. She had a few evening gowns, wrapped in neat garment bags at home as well, as no matter what excuse she tried to use, Harry would always make her go to the Victory ball. At least she was proud that she managed to avoid any other balls. It was no fun to go to a ball and sit at the table all night after Harry and Ron had allowed her the ‘pity dance’.
But this closet, a supposedly ‘spare’ one, knocked her almost off her soggy socks. This looked like a large store, not someone’s closet. The clothes looked so expensive from afar that she was almost afraid to touch them. Usually she avoided fancy shops like the plague. But this time, she just needed something to wear as the soggy cloak was making her shiver.
She quickly looked at a few racks and groaned. There were absolutely no jogging bottoms or jeans or even any sort of trousers. This was horrible. There was just a sea of dresses and skirts.
Hermione didn’t like girly things. These things were not made for her. She was smart, proud and able to prove herself and didn’t need anything ‘flirty’ to attract a man. Not that she attracted any men anyway, but that was not an important thing. She was fine to be single.
With a huff, she cast a drying spell on her hair and felt it frizz out madly. At least she wouldn’t be dripping water all over Mrs. Malfoy’s precious clothes.
Another point that caused her grand dismay was that none of the clothes were in any normal colours she usually wore, that is, not one dress in black or navy. All these were just soo… so pastel, jewel and what’s-its-name jewel-ish tones.
Hermione didn’t know what size Mrs. Malfoy was, but she didn’t want to risk bursting any seams. Finally, she found a slate grey dress. It did have a little bit of ruffling along the square neckline, but it was empire waisted and flowy, so Hermione hoped that it would camouflage her bum.
She dropped her soggy cloak on the floor and began to take of her clothes. When she was just in her bra and knickers she spotted a small closet filled to the brim with bras, knickers and fancy hosiery.
She dumped her own bra on the floor on top of the pile of wet clothes and grabbed a pair of wispy, lacy French knickers. Her own knickers landed on top of her pile. She took a look at the bras but didn’t dare to try any of them on as she’d surely burst out of the cups. She picked up a pair of silvery grey French knicker-short things.
She liked how the knickers hugged her hips. Maybe it was because she had never really worn such a fine lace garment, but somehow it seemed nicer than her slightly greying ex-white sensible cotton knickers.
Maybe she’d look in sales at some Muggle store. Maybe her underwear did need a renewal, as her underthings looked quite pathetic compared to the beautiful things offered here. Maybe she would get herself a treat after she got out of here.
She huffed as she grabbed the dress and pulled it over her head. The material felt so smooth against her skin, and she turned to look at herself in the mirror. She had fully expected the dress to look baggy, but it didn’t. The neckline was okay and the top held her breasts in safely and didn’t allow them to pop out. She still felt chilly, so she grabbed a grey cardigan she had seen on the rack filled with jackets. It was a light, airy knit and she felt warmth envelop her when she put it on. Her feet were still cold so she padded over to the shoe rack. Rows upon rows of perfectly new shoes with tags. Hermione had only seen such abundance in stores and had never been able to afford the fanciest things anyway, but tonight was nothing special. She was on the job. It didn’t matter that she would probably spoil the clothes and scare Malfoy more than the mysterious thing going on here.
She picked a pair of knee high white socks and toed off her own soggy ones, enjoying the silky feel of the material on her cold feet. She didn’t care that knee highs would look silly on her, but she wanted something warmer on her feet than the sheer stockings available here in almost all shades of nude, bronze, brown and anything in-between but no black at all. As she passed the mirror she decided to put her hair away from her face and grabbed a slate grey headband from the dresser, but then after a moment she decided that maybe an attempt to brush it would make her look less like a banshee.
The brush on top of the desk was sporting a huge tag of a fancy Diagon Alley hair salon, but she decided to use it still. After all, wizards were supposed to provide for the Auror’s needs if the mission is in their property. Surprisingly, the brush didn’t pull and tear out her hair. It made it look beautiful. She dropped it on the chair and went on to pick a few things she’d need for the night and
tomorrow before she’d get out of there.
Draco paced the floor in the hallway nervously. His life could not have gotten any worse. The thing that had infiltrated the manor was driving him crazy, and when he had finally found a way to persuade the Aurory to investigate this. It hadn’t taken much research on his side, as there had been a small side article that the Aurory was going to apply for more funding due to the state of their broom equipment. And he was luckily the second biggest shareholder in the Nimbus broom holdings, so it was as easy as pie to get the brooms. And Potter was quite easy to charm with brooms. But why had the scarhead need to send someone Draco didn’t want to see now? Not when he felt weak, vulnerable and not like a real man?
Of course, Potty didn’t know Draco’s secret. Frankly, only Draco and his parents knew that he had been harbouring a never ending crush on one Hermione Granger since… he wasn’t even sure since when but she was different than other witches. She was brave, loyal, powerful and so beautiful like no other. And he didn’t deserve her. He was nothing special. Not special enough for her. She needed a wizard who was greater than Potter, greater than Weasley….
But when she came in, so bravely pushing her way forward, in her soaked robe and ratty sneakers, his heart had almost stopped. What was he supposed to do? Sending her away was not an option as then he would never find the reason of the howling and destruction. But why did he have to be tortured by her presence? She had looked so beautiful, so fragile standing there like this. He had wanted to hold her close and carry her to bed, changing her into something warm and cuddly and then hold her till she’d fall asleep.
But of course, he couldn’t do that. He was supposed to just look, but never touch. He was not good enough, despite his father’s constant assurance that just a small sprinkling of Malfoy charm and she would be his. His father had even told him that he would rather have a brood of healthy, powerful and magical grandchildren than pureblooded squibs of the likes of Goyle or Crabbe.
It was not as easy as his father imagined. How did one approach such a goddess? He wanted her to like him. He was not a monster, he was quite nice. He liked himself!
Now all he could hope for was that he wouldn’t make a complete idiot of himself when she was there.
The door of the room burst open and he held back a gasp as he saw her. She looked… amazing.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said before he could stop himself. And it was the truth. The slate grey dress looked gorgeous on her, the square neckline and empire waist accenting her gorgeous chest. He wanted to bury his face in the luscious softness and forget all about the troubles of this world. But of course, he couldn’t. He had to remain calm and collected, and most importantly, polite.
‘Thanks, it’s just something I found to wear,’ she said briskly.
He smiled a little at her and offered his arm. He was about to tell himself off for doing this, as she was above that, she didn’t need any polite courtesies from a nobody like him, but to his immense surprise and delight, she took his arm.
He heard himself tell her that he had ordered dinner before she had arrived and that in case anything served was not to her liking the elves could cook something else. His whole body tingled even though she was only touching his arm. He could feel her warmth through his cashmere jumper and fine starched shirt.
He led her slowly to the small, airy dinning room he preferred to use. He didn’t want to alienate her in the large formal dining room.
Though his irrational, animalistic side wanted to take her to the bedroom, then take off the cute little ballerina shoes and the innocent yet so enticing knee high socks and then…
Not that she would ever allow him that, he thought sadly as he pulled out a chair for her. She plopped down on the seat unceremoniously and she hadn’t noticed that his hand had brushed a strand of her hair. He had always loved her hair, despite most people calling it wild and bushy. To him it was beautiful because it was so wild and independent and surely the most beautiful thing to see first thing in the morning after a night of heated passion.
‘So, what’s for dinner, Malfoy?’ she asked, putting her elbows on the table and leaning forward, which made her chest bulge forward.
‘Chicken Caesar salad, followed by champignon cream soup, fillet mignon and then chocolate cake for dessert…’ he answered, trying to sound as bored as possible.
‘Sounds good,’ she said as elves arrived with the salad. She took her fork and began to eat without waiting for him to start. He had waited to see if she would complain that there was too much dressing or too many croutons or that she didn’t want any meat anyway. But alas, no, she was happily chewing on mouthful after mouthful, sometimes sighing in approval.
These little sighs made his cock stir. It was oddly sexy to watch a woman eat. Most other witches would only nibble on their food after they had complained about it and would barely touch the portion. But she was clearly enjoying the meal as she licked the dressing from a corner of her lip.
His trousers felt even tighter during the second course. The way she licked the spoon was just…too enticing. He had to concentrate his mind on his plate, eating his food ever so slowly. He had never seen a woman so free and relaxed during a meal. She was so delighted with the food and not paying any attention to him. It bummed him a bit. She should be nicer to him, especially as his body wanted to have her near, preferably sitting in his lap where she would wiggle her bum so sweetly.
He had to stop his mind running rampant; he had to be all composed when they’d have to get up from the table, as now she was already on the chocolate cake, her little moans and heaving chest making him harder than ever before.
‘Alright, Malfoy, I think I will retire for the night. If there’s anything don’t hesitate to alert me,’ she said and got up. She just didn’t want to spend more time in his company. He was so prim and proper and perfect. His dark green jumper was fitting perfectly over the pale moss green starched-collar shirt and his stripy tie was tied in a perfect knot. He even had matching emerald cuff-links, perfectly pressed black trousers and polished shoes. What kind of man wore such… clothes? The men at the Aurory wore the uniform and something worn and unmatched for casual drinks in the pub. Harry did try to dress nicer, but that usually got him called a poof in jest.
But Malfoy looked like he’d just stepped out a fashion magazine.
And it didn’t look unnatural on him, it looked effortless. There was something about a well dressed man. He smelled of spicy cologne and his pale hair was glossy and falling over his eyes in a carefree, but still in salon perfect way.
What the hell was wrong with her? She wondered as she stomped out of the dining room but realised that she had not been watching where she had been going when Malfoy had escorted her to dinner.
She had been looking at him and relishing in the feel of him. Sure, she had just taken his arm but it felt nice. And no man had ever had such impeccable manners. Viktor had tried to be courteous, but had ended up clumsy, and Harry and Ron were poster boys for No Manner Land. They would shove chips in their mouths without using a fork and would talk whilst chewing…
Hermione knew that she had behaved like a barbarian at the table, but the food was so good! It was a far cry from her frozen meals and mushy sandwiches on her usual menu. The delicious salad with the perfect romaine lettuce, succulent chicken, spiced croutons and rich, creamy dressing was just ideal, the creamy rich champignon soup was the best she’d ever tasted and the beef steak was just… the best ever as she had no idea how it could’ve been prepared. The chocolate cake had been the perfect ending to the meal. Not even her favourite take away could compare, so she didn’t feel sorry for her behaviour. This was not a date. Malfoy surely didn’t care as long as she got the job done, and she couldn’t do it very well if she was ravenous. So now she was glad that she had left the stale cheese sandwich on her desk at work. She had the feeling that even the simplest fare made here would be excellent.
‘Granger, I’ll show you the way back to your room,’ she heard him say and returned back to reality from her musings.
Again, she took his offered arm. She should have grumbled and told him to lead the way, but somehow she felt too content now to spoil her own mood. He seemed to be polite enough and he had not said one bad word to her. That did account for something, didn’t it?
He didn’t say anything to her, but it didn’t mater to her. She observed him. Despite his immaculate clothes and hair she could still see that he was not completely well. His skin seemed even paler than she remembered and there were some dark circles under his eyes. There were little red bloodshot lines in his silver eyes. But that may mean nothing. Maybe he had not slept enough if he had been out partying with one of his rumoured conquests.
Not that she cared about his private life at all. She hoped that the giggly bimbos wouldn’t interfere with her work.
‘Who lives in this house?’ she asked.
‘Right now it’s just me and the elves. I told you at dinner that for the time being, they are all wearing a bell necklace so that I can differentiate their movements from whatever is obsessing this house. My parents are living in Italy now. They love the weather there.’
‘Does anyone else visit often? Your girlfriend?’ she asked and shivered as she heard lighting and thunder strike and a tree cracked. She realised that she wrapped her arms around him. This was so unprofessional. But she had been scared of thunder and lightning since her childhood. And she knew that magic could not make the nature forces go away.
‘Hush, it’s going to be fine. The manor can withstand all kinds of bad weather. And to answer your question, no I don’t have a girlfriend,’ he said and rubbed her back a little. She knew that she should have untangled from him right away, but he was ever so comforting.
‘Headmaster Snape also visits me now and then, a few times a month,’ Draco added and let her go.
‘Does he have Floo access?’ she asked, feeling slightly unsettled by the fact that Draco Malfoy had comforted her and not said one jibe. This was truly the clone. As a Malfoy could not be nice. It just didn’t seem right.
‘He does, so do my parents and me but no one else can access our Floo.’
‘I suppose it is warded via special clearance?’ she asked, looking away from him. Anywhere but at him. The plush carpet was quite interesting. What had she just done? She was used to running to Harry for comfort when the weather got bad during stake-out missions in the countryside, and that meant nothing. But this…she had just hugged Malfoy. And he had not pushed her away or said something mean. The feel of his body close to her was odd. Yes, she had had boyfriends and had done snogging and a fair bit more than that, but the feel of Malfoy’s lean, toned body and the even beat of his heart. Then the ever so light, gentle touches of his big hands on her back… it was very comforting, so much more than Harry’s awkward hugs.
She took his arm again, and walked with him, not saying a word.
‘And if there’s really anything on your mind, do call for me, even if it’s in the middle of the night,’ he said slowly, wondering if he’d turn into a blubbering fool again.
‘It should be the other way around, I’m the Auror, but of course, if I would spot anything unusual, I’d let you know.’
He smiled at her a little. It had been so wonderful to hold her close. How her beautiful body had been pressed against his, her heart racing from being scared of the weather. He had dared too much by wanting to rub her back, but he was in paradise when she had allowed him. Maybe she didn’t find him absolutely disgusting. Maybe there was still a tiny morsel of hope that he could charm her a little. He wanted her… of course, no man was worthy enough for her, but he could try and make up for his shortcomings by being the most caring and affectionate man she’d ever have.
He led her to her room, slightly sad that the walk was not longer. He knew that if he had taken too many extra turns she would become suspicious. But he wondered what would be the best way to show her that he was a nice person. He was smart; his grades had been only second to her own, so he was not like the bumbling dunces Potty and Weaselby.
‘Good night, Granger,’ he said as they arrived at her door. ‘I’ll be in the room opposite, and if you need anything, call me.’
‘Shouldn’t I rather call a house elf instead?’ she asked him, and he knew that she was baiting him, trying to assure herself of the stereotype everyone held about the Malfoys being uppity and not self reliant enough.
‘You can do that, of course, if you so wish, but you can just as well ask me.’
‘Even if I want some warm milk and cookies in the middle of the night?’
‘Even so,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘It’s not like I can’t do something nice to a guest.’
He turned and left for his room. A while later, he was just stepping out the shower after an excellently pleasant wank featuring none other than his perfect dream witch, his heart stilled as he heard the horrifying howls again.
ROOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
It seemed to reverberate through his room and there the scrap, scrip and bang of the beat somewhere not far away. He grabbed a towel and wrapped around his hips and took his wand and ran to Granger. She would see he was not delusional.
He knocked at her door frantically. ‘Granger! The thing…it’s here again!’
Hermione hobbled out of the bed and opened the door harshly. She was mesmerised by the sight in front of her. He was shirtless and his upper body was perfect. Not that she had not seen it before; she had, as a few months ago he had been featured in Witch Weekly.
Back then she had told the drooling girls from the Aurory’s admin department that the picture was surely magically altered to make him look better. But right now she was being proven wrong. His torso was finely toned, not too bulky, but there was a nice definition to it. The faint scars she had criticised most in the magazine were only too real on him. She could clearly see how the marks left paths slightly darker than his skin. And there were no hairy warts she had said he would sure have. His chest looked smooth and hairless.
But of course, even in real life she could find something wrong about him. His skin was too pale. His nipples were too light and too small. She shrugged and summoned her wand. There was no time for this useless staring.
‘Let’s go whilst the thing may be still there…though you might wish to put on something more substantial…’
With a nod, Draco transfigured his towel into white loose bottoms non-verbally.
She was incredibly impressed by this. Only few wizards could do wandless magic. Harry was one of the rare wizards capable to do so, and in the Aurory, there was no other who could do so.
Maybe Malfoy was not a step away from being a squib.
They rushed through the hallways of this maze of a building. She noted that this was like a posher version of the Burrow-many annexes added with time to create a huge mansion.
She heard the sound of ripping canvas and the melodic shattering of crystal as she and Draco turned into a hallway.
However, there was no sign of the thing there when they arrived. No magic and magical creature detection charms worked.
Draco picked up the damaged canvas. It was a large portrait of a rather hag-like witch. Despite the perfectly symmetrical cuts, she could see the large and hairy wart on the woman’s nose.
‘Who’s that? Would anyone have a motive for the destroying of that portrait?’
‘That is my great-great aunt Grisolda. Batild, my great great grandmother’s unmarried sister. She didn’t achieve anything much, as far as I can remember, and she spent most of her time in her rooms, which back in the day used to be here.’
Hermione nodded and examined the painting closer. She saw the broken vase in the middle of the carpet, the water soaking the intricate Persian rug. The flowers looked rather limp, too.
Suddenly, the light in the hallway went out. There were no windows there, as this was a passage with many doorways.
She stepped forward.
‘Maybe you should cast a bit of light?’ Malfoy suggest in a whisper. But she would have none of that. She would scare the thing away with the light!
She stepped forward confidently, her bare feet sinking into the soft carpet, as suddenly she felt something sharp inter her foot. The pain was unbearable!
Draco rushed to her side. What had happened?
‘I think I got a shard of glass in my foot, but you should continue to seek the thing…’
‘It’s gone,’ he said.
‘How do you know?’ she asked, hopping on her right foot as her left was burning up in incredible pain.
‘My wand shows no presence. There’s nothing here except me and you.’
She whimpered in pain and felt blood dripping down her foot.
‘Granger, let’s get back to your room. You need to have that healed.’
She hopped a little but it hurt so much.
‘Let me carry you, Granger. That way we will get you back faster.’
‘Can’t you just levitate me?’ she asked, almost whining.
‘No, as I fret the shards may levitate further into your skin, also Apparating could cause you more pain… so carrying would be the only thing…’
The pain was so great and she just wanted it gone. ‘Alright, Malfoy, but if you drop me you will regret it.’
He scooped her up in his arms gently, taking the utmost care to keep her comfortable. He hid a sigh as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Draco had quickly made it out of the dark hallway, noting that he needed to tell the elves to replace the candles in the chandelier, anything to distract himself from the feel of the enticing curvy body pressed against his. The feel of the nightgown’s silk and her perfectly round arse made him wish to haul her to his bed and ravish her all night.
Finally, the torture ended when he reached her bedroom and put her down on the bed slowly.
Hermione took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. She needed to compose herself. Being so close to him had made her sense go haywire. The feel of his body, without the barrier of clothing was perfect. He didn’t seem to be bothered by her weight, as his movements were quick and determined. But even though he had walked as fast as he could, she had enjoyed every second of it. The feel of his large hands on her backside and back, made her feel hot inside.
She wondered how it would be if a lover handled her with such care. Ron had been quite caveman like, groping her like a piece of meat. But Malfoy seemed so…refined. She should not let her carnal side take over her mind. It was not reasonable to find Malfoy attractive! She couldn’t find him sexy because he smelled so nice, felt so strong and firm but touched her as gently as a caress. .
Draco summoned a salve and a potion from his room and knelt down next to the bed.
‘I’m going to extract the glass from your foot and then I will apply a salve to heal the wound…’ he murmured and first cast a gentle numbing charm, then used a charm for extracting objects from wounds.
She gasped as she saw the glass fly to the refuse bin in the corner.
‘That didn’t hurt at all!’
‘When I was younger, I was thinking of becoming a Healer, so I read lots of books about healing charms and potions. The numbing charm I applied will disappear in a few minutes. Now I am going to apply a wound healing salve, it was made by Snape…’
He touched her foot lightly, applying the salve with his fingertips to the affected areas until the broken skin knit together again.
‘There you go,’ he said as he vanished the remaining salve from his fingers. ‘Your foot is like new now.’
‘I hope that you did a better job with my foot than you did with your body,’ she said gruffly.
He took a deep breath. Why was she so harsh to him.
‘The scars I have are remains from dark curses…those are usually hard to heal so I am very happy that I’m alive even…’ he said and looked at her bravely.
‘Do you find my scars disgusting?’ he asked, knowing that it was giving in to her baiting, letting her make more fun of him, but he wanted, needed to know it. Maybe it was pathetic, but he wanted to know if the girl of his dreams found anything about his body disgusting.
He gasped as her finger touched the scar on his shoulder. His heart sped up as she traced another scar.
‘I don’t find your scars disgusting, Malfoy. They show that you didn’t have as easy as most would assume.’
He held his breath as her hands touched the scars on his chest.
‘Is it from?’ she asked, knowing the answer already. He just nodded and let the sensation of her touching his bare skin rush through his body. It was such a gentle touch, like a slow caress. In his time he had been with plenty of women but they usually just laid back and thought about what presents they’d get out of sleeping with him. But now this innocent touch from his coveted bookworm made his mind wander to much more dangerous pastures. About how she would be in bed…would she be wild and bossy and demand to be pleased just the way she wanted?
‘You should get some rest, Malfoy. This evening has been quite tumultuous, and we will need all our wits about tomorrow.’
His mouth was dry, absolutely parched and he wanted to demand that she would put her little hand back on his chest. Back on the scars which still gave him nightmares, but he couldn’t do it. She surely must hate his guts still.
‘I’ve got a pain relief potion as well for you,’ he finally managed to say. ‘That should help with the pain in the foot. It’s brewed by Professor Snape, so it’s definitely safe…’
He handed her the vial and got up as good as he could. His knees felt shaky still.
‘Good night, Granger,’ he said as he walked out of the door. He didn’t even look back.
Hermione gulped down the potion with the snake seal she would recognise anywhere as she’d seen such vials so often in the Hogwarts hospital wing.
But as hard as she tried, she could not take her mind of the image of her shirtless host. He was so beautiful and strong. She shouldn’t be thinking about him, about how soft his skin was, how frail he seemed due to the scars, in the dim light in the room, his skin so translucent and his eyes huge pools of molten silver.
His sharp features made him look like a sort of fallen angel, and for one moment she had wanted to run her fingers over his jaw line to his pale rosy lips and…
She huddled the duvet closer to her. It was clear that she was in desperate need of male company. Maybe once she was done here she could find someone to relieve her sudden itch. Maybe a handsome blond… hadn’t McLaggen recently tried to chat her up? He was as good as any other for that, as Malfoy was truly not her type, his shoulders were too bony and his chest too hairless to be manly enough yet the feel of his skin under her hands was something new and exciting…
On to Part 2