Losses beyond imagining

Chapter 19

Draco didn’t sleep well that day. The fight with his parents had been the horrible end to an even worse night. Two purebloods had been brought in, poisoned in a similar way to Ron and they hadn’t been able to cure them. One of them could have made it; a bezoar had been administered in time, yet the poison’s strength ran to deep and he still passed away.

Another man was dealing, or rather not dealing, with the same spell that had cursed Draco. He couldn’t deal with the shame and had tried to take his own life… It had shaken Draco to his very core… How would he deal with the shame if his father knew…. And what about Hermione…? She was bound to want more children, although maybe not with him…

The man’s name had appeared in de Daily Prophet. He was mocked because who cared if vile purebloods never had any children? Less trouble containing them that way…

It had repulsed Draco and it had brought lingering feelings of distaste back…. Of all these filthy blood traitors and half-bloods. Yet he had become a blood traitor himself… Was Granger truly worth all this?

His mother had asked him that question, waking him up as she scolded him for hurting his father the way he had. Telling him like that! In a fight, without any consideration for his feelings! Narcissa had wanted to break the news gently to him, give him hints about it… Tell him of other cases… before finally spilling the beans.

“The way you treat your father is even more despicable than being with that… Granger,” she had told him.

“What about the way he treats me?” he had sleepily protested, but she had already left his room and refused to answer.

Lucius didn’t enter his portrait for several days after that. It caused Narcissa to worry endlessly and consequently blame Draco for it…

Draco himself was still pained by what had happened to his patient and was struggling to cope with the inevitability of the curse himself. When his mother scolded him again over a hearty Saturday breakfast he told her about the man that had tried to commit suicide.

The way his name had been dragged through the mud… Narcissa had missed the scandal and was very upset about it. The seriousness of what could happen to them, to him as well, softened her a bit, just as Draco had hoped.

“Hopefully no-one will ever know…” she said. “I think Lucius might appear in his portrait again today…”

“Why today? He hasn’t shown himself for a week?” he asked curiously.

“My sister is visiting today… and you know how he loves shouting at her…” Narcissa giggled.

Draco sighed. His father was bad enough when forced to face his aunt… It was a bit of taste of how he would likely react to Hermione.

“Does aunt.. Andromeda know about me and…” he wondered.

“Surely your father will inform her of that…” his mother replied coldly, “haven’t those Weasleys told her yet?”

“I’m not sure if they know…” he grumbled.

Narcissa’s eyes brightened. Perhaps this would all end miserably, for Draco, after all. Maybe this Granger was still ashamed of his background…

When the music turned into a slow ballad, Draco drew Hermione a bit closer. She startled a bit but let him hold her nevertheless. They had been dancing for quite a while now and Draco was eager for the next part of the evening to begin…

He whispered into her ear: “Unless I am seriously misreading the signs… having Rose at your parents’ means that you expected this…”

She went red but nodded. Yes… it was about time...

Draco’s hands lingered at the curve of her back, as he cheekily pinched her bum cheeks.

Not long thereafter, they found themselves in a well-lit hotel room. Hermione’s form-fitting blue dress with the flare skirt all crumpled from his fondling.

He kissed her hard and she responded just as eagerly, but when he slowly pushed her towards the bed, she whispered… “We need to get the lights…”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “I like to see what I am doing…” he mumbled.

Hermione blushed again, but let him guide her onto the bed, handily removing her knickers while simultaneously raising her skirt. Somehow his own pants had been magically removed as well…

When she tried to open his shirt, he grabbed her wrists and pushed them back onto the bed next to her head..

“Not so quick…” Draco growled, as he kissed her neck and slowly went downwards with his mouth.

Hermione moaned softly but otherwise seemed to make an effort to stay rather quiet.

“What’s up?” he wondered. “You can be loud, you know…”

“Oh,” she said. “Not everyone’s too keen on that…”

“I like to hear someone enjoy themselves…” Draco said, finally releasing her wrists, attending to her nipples instead, pinching, stroking, and biting them softly.

Hermione let go, and for the next hour or so, the sounds from their room irritated the other guests…

Draco woke earlier than Hermione. He looked at her sleeping beside him. Her hair was all tousled and would need quite a bit of sorting out before it would become a neat bun again.

He chortled. She had been so shy! Constantly blushing, and nearly apologizing for her own enjoyment. He briefly wondered what her previous relationships had been like, for her to behave like that…

The lights out, hardly any noise… It didn’t sound like Draco’s cup of tea, and judging by her behaviour last night, perhaps it hadn’t been Hermione’s either…

At one point, she had snatched his shirt and had opened it, despite his loud protests, only to reveal a large scar on his torso. It had happened during the war and was still quite visible…

“Oh… that’s why…” she had whispered. “Draco, there’s really no need… You’ve already seen my stretch marks, right?”

He had sighed in relief. She didn’t mind one bit…

When they’d both gotten tired, she had lain in his arms, him stroking her hair, her hand placed on his chest, softly touching his scar. Draco couldn’t remember having been this content and happy before, not since he had gotten his very first broomstick as a child...

Hermione had gazed up at him. He was so very different, she contemplated. So different…

She had secretly liked him taking the lead, like Krum had had before him. With Ron, she had usually been the one to initiate… It had often left her feeling a bit… unsatisfied. Hermione would never acknowledge it, of course, but it had been quite thrilling to just go with it… To let someone else lead.

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