Title: Mannaz Feedback: Always welcome. You can email me at lunasky @ gmail . com A/N: Written for ruafair for the Spring Forward Draco/Hermione Fic Exchange. |
||
As the silence settled back around him, he suddenly became convinced that he had made a mistake, that he’d gotten the time or location wrong, or worse, that he’d been found out. What if his father had learned of this meeting? He would have had no problem in playing along and let his son sneak about, if only so he could catch him in the act. Draco figured it would justify so many things in his father’s mind; his son would be the failure he always suspected he was. And if his father knew, the Death Eaters loyal to him could have already attacked this cottage, and set the trap for him. Silently, he berated himself for his sudden nervousness. He’d been spying for the Order for several months now, but he’d never felt the restlessness that he was feeling tonight. Straining his ears to hear any noise, Draco almost jumped out of his skin when an owl hooted in the distance. The sinking feeling in his chest continued to worsen and for a brief second, he thought about turning away. Then suddenly, the door opened making his heart leap into his throat. “Malfoy,” Granger said quietly, opening the door and looking around. Draco took a deep breath and tried to hide his agitation. When she was satisfied that they were alone, she opened the door further to let him in. As they approached the kitchen, he could see that the only source of light was an old lantern sitting on the kitchen table. It wasn’t very bright, and it cast most of the room into shadows. “Tea?” asked Hermione, standing by a pot that was cooling on the table. When he shook his head, she pulled up a creaky chair to the table, and she took a seat. “So did you find out what they’re planning?” “I believe so,” Draco replied, joining her, but still unable to calm himself. He felt like jumping out of his skin. Figuring that the distraction was probably what he needed, he pulled out a small, paper tube from an inside pocket of his cloak. In the tube, were three rolled up star charts that he’d managed to smuggle out of his father’s library. “My father was looking at these the other day. He spent the afternoon pouring over them and then that evening, Bellatrix came over. They spent the entire time in the library. I managed to get in there for a few minutes and it sounded like they were trying to figure out different dates. This morning, I noticed that these were still laid out and they had all these calculations on them.” Hermione leaned towards him, bringing the lantern closer and bending over the charts. Oddly enough, Draco noticed that her hair smelled faintly like Lavender. “These look like vectors…” she said, trailing her finger over some of the notations. “And look here–” she said, pointing to spot in the northern sky. “It looks like they’re trying to predict the movement of Mars, but then over here, they’re tracking the position of the moon in Taurus.” Draco tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but her nearness was distracting. Since he’d started working for the Order, she’d acted as the liaison between them and him. And though the two of them had a lot of animosity to work through, in the end, she’d proven to be the better person, providing him with support against both sides. She had stood up for him when Potter was so eager to dismiss his intel. She also had never taken for granted, the risks he took in providing her information. Working with her, Draco had found that she helped center him and focus his energy, and fear, into useful activities. Tonight however, she seemed to be having the opposite effect on him. His anxiety had calmed a bit, but only to be replaced by a sudden, inexplicable urge to touch her hair. There was another scent mixed in with the Lavender and he couldn’t figure out what it was. Mentally, he gave himself a shake and pushed his chair back, scraping it against the floor. He didn’t have time for this. Grabbing a quill that was resting on the table, he dipped it into the ink, and circled a planet in the center of the sky, forcing his mind back to the task at hand. “I think what they were actually trying to calculate is when Pluto will go into station retrograde. See here how they were using the planet’s movements to calculate five days? Well that’s tomorrow night, according to the date in the corner here.” “What’s so special about Pluto?” Hermione asked. He gave her a small smirked, feeling the first shred of normal feelings within him. It wasn’t often he managed to figure out something ahead of Granger. “Well firstly, Pluto rules over creation and destruction.” “That doesn’t help.” “How well do you remember Ancient Runes?” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well enough I suppose. What does that have to do with anything?” “Well, last night my father sought me out to help him cast a Focal Circle. He wouldn’t tell me what it was for but I managed to de-convolute a few of the bindrunes as he was writing them. Many of them had the Laguz character in them.” In response to her questioning look, Draco drew the rune on the back of the star chart. “I remember what it is,” Hermione snapped taking the quill from his hands, her patience finally at its end. “It’s the water or female rune. It symbolizes cleansing and creation, and has also been tied to sensuality and lust.” “Right. My father also used the Berkanan rune many times last night.” Hermione crossed her arms in front of her, drawing Draco’s sight to the slight curve of her breasts and immediately distracting him once again. “But each individual rune has many meanings, that’s why it’s so difficult to guess the nature of the spell.” “Come on Granger. I thought you liked a good challenge.” He wasn’t in any hurry to give her the answer, especially if it kept her arms crossed like that. Her cheeks darkened and the competitive glint hardened in her eyes. “Fine. The Berkanan rune… It’s also a female rune and symbolizes growth, healing, fertility and birth. It can be used the give power to new endeavors…to secure—” she started to wave her arms around in frustration, breaking his stare. “You’re missing the obvious here. What does everything we’ve discovered have in common?” He watched, fascinated as she calmed down a little and then became lost in her thoughts. He’d never really stopped to watch her before. He could see her running through various ideas in her head, biting her bottom lip as she tried to tie them all together. Suddenly, he had a very strong urge to run his tongue over her abused lip. “A fertility spell? You think that Lord Voldemort is trying to…” She shuddered, unable to finish the sentence. He smiled and nodded, leaning against the table with his hip. “You got it. With Bellatrix Lestrange.” “Ugh!” She exclaimed, standing up and throwing the quill down on the table. “That’s horrible. What can we do to stop it?” “I don’t think we need to do anything. The Dark Lord gave each person a separate task to perform. My father was responsible for the Focal Circle, I found out this morning that Avery has locked himself in his potions lab to make a conception potion, Martha Goyle is making the ceremonial robes and I spent all afternoon grinding up ambergris. As far as I can tell, everyone else is busy trying to sabotage the task of the person they don’t like.” “How vicious.” “Why do you think I bottled up my ambergris and kept it with me,” Draco said, gently patting the pocket of his robe that contained the precious container. “My two best friends came snooping about the garden this afternoon. I saw them kicking dirt into the lines of the Focal Circle, trying to disrupt the runes. Then I heard that someone set Avery’s lab on fire. I think the best thing to do, would be to let the ritual planning proceed without interference and plan an attack for when the ceremony is underway.” “You mean catch them with their pants down?” “Err... Precisely. But thank you for that lovely, scarring image.” Draco said with a dry laugh. A vivid image of the Dark Lord standing with his underwear around his ankles, thrusting into Bellatrix Lestrange as she wrapped her legs around his waist jumped forefront into his mind. It was a dark, raunchy image but like a train wreck he couldn’t get it out of his mind. There wasn’t anything remotely sensual about the two of them but as the scene played out, it soon morphed into something different. It became something that was still hidden in shadows, but feral instead of vulgar. Something he could picture himself in, doing things to Granger that made the blood rush down, between his legs. The lantern flickered, breaking his concentration, and it was then that he realized he’d been staring at her. She leaned towards the light to adjust the wick and he continued to follow her movements with his eyes. He noticed that she moved as if sensing this new tension between them. She was hesitant, yet eager for something to occupy herself with. As she bent towards the lantern, Draco noticed a slight swelling on her right cheek. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice low, drawing nearer to her and grabbing her chin. Tilting her head slightly to the side so he could see in the dim lighting, he saw the bruising along her jaw. “Is the Weasel beating you?” Hermione shook her head but she didn’t jump away from his touch. “God no. It was Harry.” “Potter’s beating you?” Draco exclaimed, startled at the emotions he suddenly felt. With his one hand still on her chin, he used his other hand to touch her cheek. He always thought Potter had issues controlling his anger, but hitting a woman seemed quite against the hero persona he carried around. Not that he wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Potter had cracked under the pressure. Hermione smiled and then winced as he touched a tender spot. She untangled herself from him and turned away. “Not quite. He needs a sparring partner so I do what I can. I just haven’t gotten much sleep these last few nights so he managed to get in under my Shield Charm.” “Not much sleep, Granger? Who’s keeping you up at nights?” he asked, meaning for the question to come out light, but failing miserably. The tension in his body had returned in force and he had no idea what to do with it. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around. “It’s no one.” Hermione said, staring at him as if he had sprouted another head. “I just got focused on the Deflection Charm I’ve been working on and spent the last few nights in the library. What’s with you, anyways?” Draco let go of her shoulder and ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I don’t know. I just—” But it was like something inside of him, bursting to get out and he couldn’t contain it any longer. He reached out, grabbed her and brought her crashing towards him, until her lips were pressed firmly against his. “What are you doing?” she whispered breathlessly when he finally released her from the kiss. But his hands had found their way into her hair and he was too busy burying himself in her neck to answer. He had discovered that mixed among the smell of lavender, she also smelled like chamomile. “Wait,” she said, pushing him back slightly until he found himself looking at her face. He watched as her look of shock turned to one of understanding. “Take your cloak and shirt off.” All rational thoughts disappeared completely as Draco rushed to comply. Before he knew it, he was throwing his outer cloak over the back of a chair, and unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes never left her face and he watched as an enticing flush spread across her cheeks when he revealed the bare skin of his chest. When his shirt hung open, she leaned forward, bringing her hands up to his neck. With slow, sure movements she ran her fingertips across his collar bones and down the side of chest. Bringing her arms back up, she gently lifted the shirt off his shoulders and dragged it down his arms. “Turn around.” Surprised at her willing and even active participation, Draco did as he was told. For some reason, he’d pictured her as being more passive when it came to these matters. Then again, if there was one thing he’d learned while working with her, it was that she was no one’s puppet. “I need to…” she trailed off as she caressed his flank. “Before we get distracted, I want to give you a charm to protect yourself tomorrow. It’s not much, but I’d feel better if you had it.” He nodded absentmindedly, shivering as her warm hands slid across his back. As long as she didn’t stop touching him, as long she let him touch her, he didn’t really care what she did. From behind him, he heard her picking up something off the table, and then a moment later, he felt a cool, thick liquid on his back. She whispered quietly under her breath as she drew a symbol between his shoulder blades, but he was much too distracted to pay any attention. When she was done, he turned back to face her and saw her place the ink jar back down on the table. “All done?” he asked. When she nodded, he stepped closer, pulling her back into his embrace. He leaned her up against the table and then lifted her up so that she was sitting on it, allowing him to get even closer as he stepped between her legs. Her eyes were dark and fathomless and he couldn’t help but get lost in their depths. It was like a weight was being lifted off of him. He let his hands run along her legs until they got tangled up in her robes, so he immediately set on removing them. He unclasped the hooks from the front, trailing kisses down along her chest, between her breasts, and down to her stomach as the robes fell away. Soon her clothing was pooled around her, dangling half on and half off the table and she was left just in her knickers. Moving his face back up to kiss her, he was surprised again when she actually responded by kissing him back. The shock of feeling her soft tongue inside his mouth nearly undid him right there. He wrapped his arms around her, winding his fingers through her hair, completely immersed in the feel of her lips and tongue. And as she grabbed his neck and held his mouth against hers, he could help but grind up against her soft body. She moaned quietly as he drove his hands across her body. Now that he saw it, he couldn’t get enough of her skin. Her breasts fit perfectly in the palm of his hand and she responded instantly when he rubbed his thumbs across her nipples. Suddenly, they were all hands, and lips and skin, as they feverishly tried to rid themselves of the remaining clothing. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, and Draco was pretty sure that he ripped her underwear while attempting to remove them. After that, the pace seemed to pick up even faster, until Draco thought he would go mad unless he possessed her completely. Kneeling down between her legs, Draco explored her depths with his tongue, feeling her writhe around him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up and tried to take several
deep breaths. Draco closed his eyes and let her guide him into her. As he felt her tight warmth around him, whatever remaining shreds of control he had left, were gone instantly. He thrust into her as she wrapped her legs around his waist and everything else outside of their connection fell away. He didn’t even feel her dig her nails into his arm. They moved against each other until he couldn’t control himself any longer. Grabbing her, he thrust violently into her before he exploded in orgasm. ~~~ Hermione grabbed the old, threadbare blanket that she’d found on the bed, and brought it up around her shoulders. Dawn had started to peak through the curtains, illuminating everything she was afraid to see. After their tryst on the table last night, they’d stumbled but somehow managed to find their way into the bedroom, just down the hall from the kitchen. But then everything had been dark and safe. They’d flopped down on the bed; their legs still tangled together, their bodies still slick with warm sweat, and drifted off into sleep. Then Hermione had woken up to the sound of something breaking in the kitchen, and the bed empty beside her. She’d waited, naked and cold, but Draco never returned. A few minutes later she had heard the front door close and the house had settled back into silence. She poked her toes out of the bed, and then wrapping the blanket around her, she got up. Making her way back to the kitchen, she looked around unhappily at the changes daylight had brought. The dirty beige kitchen looked like it had been decorated thirty years ago. The brown Formica counters gave way to old, broken appliances, and cheap linoleum floor that showed too many cracks and wear. Crumpled on the floor next to the old wooden table, were her robes. As she leaned over to pick them up, she noticed that they were covered in ink. The ink bottle was lying under the table, probably having been knocked over during last night’s activities. But what drew her attention, was the shattered glass in the corner. As she bent down to examine it, the familiar scent of ambergris filled her nose. She’d been right in her assumption last night. Now she could only hope that she’d been right about Draco as well. ~~~ Two days later, Draco entered the Hog’s Head and looked around. The air was thick with smoke, laughter and singing but he hadn’t come here for the festivities. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust, but eventually he found her sitting in the corner, drinking with Potter and a few other friends. Straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath and approached her. “Granger,” he called out, and everyone at the table stopped and turned his way. He was a little worried that Hermione would hex him into next week but instead she greeted him with a small smile. Even Potter, who never had anything nice to say to him, stood up and extended his hand. “Good job, Malfoy. Thanks to the information you gave us, we scored big. We managed to capture twenty Death Eaters.” Draco shook his hand, though the gesture felt empty. The chance for them to be friends had come and gone a long time ago. “But the Dark Lord got away.” Potter nodded sadly. “True. But without your father, Bellatrix or any of his top people, he’s not going to be causing too much trouble for a little while. Plus, this gives a chance to regroup and gather a lot more support. It’s much easier to recruit people to a side that’s winning.” “True.” Draco replied, not really caring. He hadn’t joined their side for any sort of political reasons, and now that his function was filled, he was thinking rather fondly of having nothing more to do with this war. Giving Potter a nod, he turned back to Hermione. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” She nodded, extracting herself from the booth and the curious glances of everyone else at the table. They made their way up to the bar and found some empty stools in the corner. After they had ordered drinks, Draco finally spoke, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. “What did you put on my back?” he asked bluntly. Hermione smiled. “It was a bindrune that I created. It was made up mostly with the Mannaz character.” Caught completely by surprise, Draco only stared at her. “Excuse me?” Waiting until the barmaid placed the drinks in front of them, Hermione reached over and picked up a napkin. Pulling out a quill from somewhere in her robes, she proceed to draw the Mannaz rune on it and then hand it over to him. “I know what it is!” Draco exclaimed in frustration, not understanding why this caused her to laugh. “I want to know why you did it though.” “Come on Malfoy. I thought you liked a good challenge.” It finally dawned on him that she was throwing his words right back at him. “You planned this? You knew all along that I’d be back here, asking you this.” Hermione shook her head. “No, not really. I just hoped because that would mean that you understood what really happened between us.” “I…” his voice trailed off as he tried to piece it all together. “I was just so confused when I woke up; it felt like I had a hangover. When I stumbled in the kitchen to get my clothing I found that bottle of ambergris and it all dawned on me. After everything I’ve done to take control over my own life, I fall prey to breathing in the potion I was making. I smashed the bottle, I was so angry.” “I know. I figured as much when you told me that you’d spent the afternoon grinding it up. Ambergris is a powerful aphrodisiac. That’s why I drew the bindrune on your back. The Mannaz character represents yourself, and who you are. It gives you power to control your destiny.” “It counteracted the effects?” She shrugged. “I don’t know, you tell me.” Draco drifted off in his thoughts. “Well, that would explain how I managed to throw off the Dark Lord’s Imperius Curse when you guys attacked the house. He saw me refuse, you know. My days as an informant are over.” “What will you do now?” He shrugged, suddenly not sure about anything at all. Because if what she said was true, then he’d wanted to be with her even when he was in control of himself. And if that was true… then maybe there were things he was only starting to learn about himself. Maybe he was more than just a wayward son and an untrustworthy spy. “So was it real?” Hermione asked shyly, not meeting his eyes for the first time. Draco leaned closer to her, and lifted her face back up. “You know, there’s really only one way to find out.” ~~~ 1/1 |
||
|