Special delivery for karli_malfoy Title: The Cottage Author/Artist:syven Recipient's LJ name:karli_malfoy Rating: R Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger Word Count: 2,813 Warnings (if any): Minor cursing Authors notes: Recipient requested a tattoo and some humor. I hope I managed the humor.
"Huh?" Hermione woke with a start, groggy and blinking toward the door that was now swinging shut and she bolted out of the chair, shouting. "DON'T LET IT SHU…"
The thud and click of the lock bolt sliding into place rang out in the stunned silence that her abbreviated sentence created, echoing deep into her bones as she looked up at an amused Draco Malfoy in a mixture of stunned disbelief and rapidly building fury.
"You… you… IDIOT!" she hissed as she gestured toward the door that was now disappearing into the wall once more, blending completely into the subdued pattern strips in the wallpaper. Sighing, Hermione turned her back on him and flopped back into the overstuffed chair by the fireplace.
When Hermione had left her office three weeks earlier, it was to track down a strange energy signature emanating from deep in the Scottish mountains. It'd only taken her a day to find the cottage, camouflaged as it was into the side of a high cliff overlooking the ocean and her curiosity had overcome caution when she'd gotten past the wards on the door and stepped inside. Naturally, her curiosity peeked when she discovered the interior to be far bigger than the exterior but her excitement was short-lived when she realized that she could no longer find the door that led out of the cozy habitat.
It had been a relief to find a well-stocked kitchen and Hermione had settled into the chair by the fire with a cup of tea, waiting patiently for the owners of the strange home to return. Three days had passed before the stubborn witch conceded that a thorough search of the premises gave up no intrinsically personal evidence of another inhabitant. Six days after that, she stubbornly renewed her efforts to find the door, casting spell after spell without success. Two days after that, she'd expended every feasible spell in her memory with only a small smudge on the wallpaper to mark her effort.
Twelve days after stepping over the threshold of the strange cottage, Hermione sighed with dejected sorrow over the last bag of tea only to watch in astonishment as three new boxes of Earl Gray materialized on the shelf before her eyes. Since that moment, she'd experimented enough to discover that the cottage provided any food or drink she wished for but would not or could not bring any kind of animate creature into existence. She could change the color of the carpet or enlarge her chair with only a firm wish fixed in her mind but the cottage refused to give up an exit.
Although Hermione had resigned herself to a rather long vacation considering how often the boys checked in on her at the Ministry – which depended entirely on which fugitive Dark Wizard they were chasing – the sight of her sometimes partner and always reluctant co-worker coming through the front door as she woke up was the last thing she expected to see.
"Is that anyway to greet your rescuer, Granger?" Draco drawled sardonically, hooking his thumbs into his belt as he rocked on his heels.
Lifting the book on Elvin runes off the floor beside her chair, Hermione settled back against the leather with a heavy sigh, nodding toward the now smooth wall behind him. "How are you going to rescue anyone when you can't see the door, Malfoy?"
"What the… Oh, very funny, Granger. Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?" he smirked and turned slowly, gray gaze settling on the smooth, unmarred surface before continuing speaking. "If you think a simple concealment spell is going to trip me up, Granger, you've got another thing coming."
"Oh, have at it," Hermione laughed in grim amusement, waving a hand airily at him before turning the page. A cup of tea appeared suddenly on the table beside her and she reached over lifted it absently.
She had told her superiors that she didn't need a partner, absolutely did not want a co-worker and most certainly had no use for a rich playboy named 'Malfoy' but they had blithely insisted and within the span of a day all that was Draco Malfoy was moved into her already cramped workspace in the back of the Department of Mysteries Time Distortion Division. To say they had formed a tentative truce would be an understatement as Hermione avoided him every chance she could get and finding herself stuck in the inescapable cottage with him was just the thing to convince her that she was paying for something she'd done in another life - something really, really awful.
Draco frowned, grey eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to the chair, asking. "How did you do that? That… that violates Gamp's Five Laws of Elemental Transfiguration."
"I didn't do it. Well, I did but not the way you think. I just wished for it," she explained in a bored tone, turning another page.
"But that's not possible. You can't create sustenance out of nothing. It's the most immutable of the laws. I should know, I practically lived in the Room of Requirement," Draco protested.
"I don't need you to believe me, Malfoy. In fact, I don't need anything at all from you." The page rustled with clear annoyance. She could smell his intrinsic scent – a tantalizing mixture of wood smoke and leather - and that meant he was far too close. Everything about him was far too close in her opinion. Hermione had been more than content quietly ogling the pureblood snob from afar where he couldn't distract her with his slow, baritone drawl that deepened into a low growl when the moon grew full or the way the platinum fringe of his bangs to sweep along the ridge of his one 'imperfection' – the jagged scar that ran along his right eyebrow and down his cheek, both souvenirs from his work in apprehending the fugitive Death Eater and infamous werewolf, Fenrir Greyback.
Tight-lipped, Draco glowered at the witch but said nothing, turning his attention to the blank wall and lifted his wand with stoic determination. Two hours of muttered spell-casting later, he flopped onto the sofa with a disgruntled noise where he stared at the back of her book for five minutes before scrambling to his feet. Another two hours after that, the blonde wizard finished a methodical search of the remainder of the cottage and reappeared in the living room. "There's no way out of this place. The windows aren't real and neither are the bloody fireplaces. Could you put that book down? I very nearly splinched myself trying to apparate, you know. You could have warned me."
"And miss all this fun?" she retorted, lowering the book just enough to peer at him over the top. "The windows are real. Just not open-able."
He arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his drawl. "Open-able is not a word, Granger. What about the chimney?"
"I've been here for three weeks, Malfoy. If I want to make up one bloody word, I will. Fireplace? Tried it. It vents the smoke but nothing solid can get through," Hermione rustled the next page more, refusing to meet his gaze.
Gesturing to the frustratingly empty wall, Draco growled. "Why didn't you stop me from closing the door?"
"You might remember the entire 'DON'T LET IT SHUT' part from earlier in the day. I know it's been a wildly exciting day for you but do try to keep your perspective," she said dryly, folding up the book with a curt snap as she rose. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a bath."
"A bath? At a time like this, you're taking a bath?" Draco accused dryly. "Oh, we'll be out of here in no time. Let's all take a bath!"
Hermione paused in the hall and let out another sigh of exasperation before saying angrily. "Harry and Ron will find me. There's no need to make a bother of yourself, you know."
"Make a bother…" he bolted out of the chair, striding over to glare down at her. Gesturing toward the wall, Draco ground out heatedly. "Oh sure, Potter and Weasley will save you, won't they? That's why neither of them could be arsed to help me? You know what your precious Potty and Weasel did when you were missing for a week? They said you'd turn up and went to the pub! The pub!"
"Well, what did you expect? It… it was only a week," she retorted sharply, well aware that her argument sounded hollow and weak but unable to come up with anything more cutting.
"Only a week? Merlin! Listen to yourself, Granger!" he demanded, grabbing her arm as his voice deepened, reminding Hermione all too clearly how close to the moon it was. "Do you have any bloody idea how bloody hard it was to find you, even with your bloody notes!"
"Well, I didn't bloody well ask you to find me, now did I!" Hermione hissed, tugging her arm in his grip ineffectually for he only tightened it and, in doing so, drew her flush against his chest. "If you'd have just…"
Reaching up quickly, his hand caught her roughly by the scruff of the neck, cutting off her words as his lips crushed hers, parting them fiercely and thrusting his tongue against her own with a feverish groan. Hermione struggled momentarily, pushing weakly against his chest until he deepened the kiss and drew a hungry moan from her as she returned the kiss. Reaching up, she fisted a hand in his hair, tugging sharply as he pushed her roughly against the hallway wall with a deep growl. "Three bloody weeks, worrying about what might have happened to you…"
"Worrying? Why would you…" she gasped out breathlessly before his lips crushed hers again in another bone-melting kiss, whimpering at the rough caress of his hand as it ran along her side, over her hip to cup her bottom. He was much more muscular than she would have thought; hiding a lean, trim body beneath well-cut shirts and loose trousers. Hermione felt a traitorous thrill at the feel of his tapered waist between her hands as she tugged his shirt free.
Draco hissed against her swollen lips, burning a trail of feverish kisses across her jaw and along the pulse of her neck, undoing the buttons of her shirt while she tried to do the same to his own. Catching her wrists as the shirttails swung free, he pressed them against the wall on either side of her head, growling. "Because it's my job, my incredibly infuriating witch."
"Your job? What…" Hermione frowned, cut off again with another kiss, this one slower, more thorough and infinitely more possessive. Three weeks of solitary confinement coupled with a deeply hidden desire for the arrogant wizard may have been rendering her thoughts into a jumbled mess but what he'd said didn't make sense, even to her. Heat pooled between her legs as he ground his hips against hers, unfastening her bra with one hand. Cupping her breast, Draco groaned thickly as she fumbled with the catch of his belt and trousers, yanking the belt free and tossing it away.
His fingers tweaked and rolled her nipple between them, pebbling the soft skin before dipping his head, his fine platinum hair falling to cover his face as his warm, moist lips closed around her nipple to suckle as he fondled her breast with a low moan. The sensation of his rough tongue lapping like a big cat around her nipple made her core throb with desire. Pushing his trousers down, Hermione fumbled with the band of her skirt, moaning weakly and arching as he suckled hard on her breast and pushed her hands away. Tugging her skirt up, Draco pressed his mouth to her neck as he tore the panties from her with one quick, hard motion, the sound of ripping cloth cut against the backdrop of their panting breaths and Draco spoke, his voice husky and deep. "I told them. I told them not to keep it from you but they wouldn't listen. Fuck, Granger, you are so wet." He stroked two fingers along her folds and parted them, thrusting up into her core as his thumb circled her clit, his mouth slanting over her own to catch her mews of pleasure.
"What are you… what are they keeping from… Merlin, Malfoy… oh, Merlin… don't stop…" Hermione gasped out when he finally drew back from the kiss, fucking her with his fingers as she frantically pushed his boxers down, her small hand curling around his hard cock. He thrust against her palm, his eyes closing for a moment to savor the sensation before claiming her mouth ravenously once more.
He hissed and swirled his thumb around her clit, feeling her body tensing sharply and his teeth nipped along her neck, shrugging out of his shirt with one hand to reveal an elaborate dragon tattoo winding over his shoulder. Hermione reached for it with her free hand, smoothing up the hard surface of his muscled chest to the point where the dragon's head rested and, at her touch, it moved, coiling up to the top of his shoulder as little plumes of smoke billowed out of its nostrils. "Bodyguard. I'm your… bloody… bodyguard."
"Harder, dammit." Draco pulled his fingers from her, grabbing her by the hips and lifting her as he pressed her against the wall and she gasped, rubbing the head of his cock along the wet entry to her core. Dropping her weight onto his cock, he thrust up roughly, stretching and filling her core and Hermione clawed at his arms. Dizzy with the need for more friction, her hands curling around his biceps as he drove up into her with a deep groan, she demanded huskily. "I… I don't need a… bodyguard."
Shifting her weight onto one hand, Draco's callused fingertips found her clit, stroking softly at first as he pushed his hard, thick cock into her wetness, watching her face as she closed her eyes and threw her head back against the wall whimpering softly as he drove into her hot center. Grabbing her hand, he pushed it between them, guiding her fingers to her clit, growling deeply. "Right. Because you aren't trapped in an… inescapable cottage. So beautiful… come for me, just for me, Granger."
She moaned, surprised at the tidal wave of sensation that washed over her at his instruction, and she was falling, her cunt clenching tightly around his cock but he continued pumping into the incredible heat until she whispered softly against his ear, 'Draco', and he came with a fierce groan. Hermione was just convincing herself that she'd have Draco-hand bruises on her hips in the morning when a very soft click sounded above their combined panting.
Draco lifted his head from where it'd been resting against her shoulder and looked over to where a door had appeared on the wall, creaking open to admit a gentle breeze. Reluctantly easing Hermione to her feet, he didn't let her draw a breath before slanting his mouth over hers again, kissing her thoroughly. After a long moment, he drew back and raked a hand through his hair, pulling his trousers back up around his waist, drawing his wand as he said calmly. "Dark magic. Why did it have to be dark magic?"
A quick flick of his wand directed one of the sitting room chairs between the door jab and frame to ensure the door would not close again before turning back to her, his gaze sharpened as she straightened her clothes and cast a softly spoken, "Scourgify.". Glancing up at him, Hermione's gaze flickered over his lithe, porcelain form before her eyes met his, answering with an arched eyebrow. "Are you trying to tell me that the door was conjured because we…"
"Fucked? Yes, Granger. I had a feeling there might be some sexual trigger when I recognized my Uncle's hand in the transfiguration anomaly," Draco answered, the sarcastic, lazy drawl returning to his voice as he summoned his shirt and pulled it on. He regarded her for a second and then lifted his free hand, holding it out to her. "Well, come on, Granger. I need to prove that I earned my paycheck by bringing you back safe and sound."
"Is that was this was? Earning your galleons?" Hermione disregarded his hand and strode past him to the door.
Draco chuckled as he walked to the door, holding it open as he bent his head to hers, pressing her against the door frame with a throaty laugh. "You couldn't afford me, Granger, but Malfoy's are generous, I'll let you think of another way to repay me." Smothering her indignant protest with a kiss, he apparated them away from the mysterious cottage.