Bride of the HP Dragon

"My ear must be broken, you said you can't help us?"

They went into the kitchen, shut the door, and there was a half-cooked pie in the oven.Draco stared at the floor for a moment, as if lost in thought.But no matter what he was thinking, it must not be calm.

Then he looked up at Arne, who was resisting the urge to touch his wand.Borgin didn't seem to be exaggerating when he said the boy was a little too sensitive and aggressive.

"Your ears are not broken," Arne replied. "Your condition is hopeless. It is a permanent spell."

"Everyone knows it's a permanent spell!" Draco was impatient, and then he glanced at the closed door and said softly, "But I'm the more informed of the two, and I know that there are two permanent spells. Sex. One can be solved with money and black magic, the other only death can solve."

"Then you are in the second situation." Arne remained expressionless.

"What nonsense." Draco spat.

"The reason why it is permanently unresolved is that the lovely young girl waited so anxiously in the living room, lost in love with you. The spell is complete, and there is no possibility of breaking it."

Draco backed away, as if stricken, he looked terrified, but then, brutally furious.

"The girl doesn't love me."

"Are you so sure because you asked her? Or did she tell you?" Arne was gentle.

"How do you know it's love? Does anyone know what love is?" Draco paced back and forth, like a caged animal in the small kitchen.

Arne wanted to calm the situation down: "It doesn't matter if you know or you're sure, because the spell knows. I can remove the spell if it's for a fling, a one-night stand, or an admitted mistake, but if I'm confronted That's right, two independent souls that have been combined, then I can't do anything about FidaMia."

Draco was so annoyed that he kicked over a chair and stared at Arne angrily.For a moment, he was like a moody teenager who had been denied his existence as a separate person.

"Damn it," he said bitterly, "what are we still doing here?"

Arne sat on the edge of the kitchen table with her arms folded, and Nana would throw a fit if she found out that one of her favorite kitchen chairs had been kicked over.

"Because your contact arranged this meeting, because you agreed to pay for the consultation, and because I'm a businessman."

"You have to tell me how to fix it!" Draco leaned heavily on the sink, looking at Arne with such gloomy eyes, which surprised the slightly older man instantly.

"What if your young girl doesn't think it's a big deal?"

Draco stroked his hair with trembling hands: "Marrying me is a big problem."

"why?"

"Why!" Draco sneered, "Damn because we're only 18, because of her position and me... I'm pretty sure she's going to get into trouble right away, just because she didn't choose her spouse carefully. I don't Need a wife! I want relief! I have to find a way!" he almost hissed.

Arne wondered what the "trouble" was, if it was really so dire and dire that those who cared about you were a hindrance instead of a help.

Then he remembered that the girl was a friend of Harry Potter, and his problem was solved.Really, trouble.

"Considering its permanence, there are only two ways to remove the real FidaMia." Arne looked at Draco cautiously: "You know that."

Draco nodded, looking defeated: "Remove the affected body part, or die."

"Yes, but remember that love is the catalyst that strengthens the spell. Without love, the spell breaks cleanly. That's why most people think they're not really under the spell. You see, there must be love."

"Then I need to remove her affection." Draco speculated with his eyes closed.

Arne snorted: "Maybe I'm not much older than you, as you said, but I want to tell you that falling in love is much easier than being unfeeling."

"She's going to stop this relationship," Draco was almost swearing. "I'll make her stop, she shouldn't have been interested in the first place." He was about to leave the kitchen when Arne stopped him at the door.

"Wait, maybe I should point out that we seem to be ignoring the fact that FidaMia only works when the two are in love." Arne's meaning seems to be lingering.

Draco's hand was on the doorknob.

"There is nothing in this world. If I lose it, I can't live."

Arne watched him go, feeling powerless.He still feels guilty from the first time he worked with Nana Hendricks.After the two had gone, Nana Hendricks came downstairs, and things were not going well, she could tell by the great-grandson's face.

Arne was watching the pair leave from the window: "I think that young man is the most irritable person I've ever met and since we've been in this business I've finally gotten my fair share of this angry young man ’” he told his great-grandmother.

Nana Hendricks was braiding, and the pies had come out of the oven to cool on the table.When she's feeling cranky or argumentative, she likes to knit because she's mad at her dear great-grandson for not making clients pay for consultations.

It took two months, to no avail.Scouting out seedy bars, finding suitable targets, and moving their tattoo parlors around the country and in the city is all for naught now.She didn't have the energy to do so much work in a year, just once or twice at most, and they didn't have much money.

But she can't be angry with this kid all the time, he is like his father, he is too soft-hearted, that's why she let her grandson retire and let her great-grandson be her new partner.

"Don't worry, the reason for his anger is not the spell." Nana said.

"I like him," Arne admits, "maybe just because he's completely different from me."

"I know," she smiled softly at him, soothed by the soft click of the knitting needles, "you're a kind and gentle child. Honey, would you like to add some orange to your sweater? I just remember you hated Orange."

"Nana, I'm worried about what he's about to do." Arne couldn't ignore that Draco was the son of a Death Eater, but he hoped that the tree would always bear different fruit.

"They'll be fine," she told him. "Why? Because I never knew anyone could be unhappy after accepting the real FidaMia."

Arne snorted: "What about you and great-grandfather?"

The knitting needles stopped: "What happened to us?"

"Well, one time you tried to poison him, then you tried to drown him, and Father said he burned your house down once."

"Oh, that," she poohed. "That's how we show love, honey. If it doesn't work, why would you? Now, do you want some orange?"

Arne wasn't happy about it, he could see the fear and anger in Draco's eyes, he didn't know if the girl had enough courage to comfort him.When FidaMia does work, it blinds people.

"No, no orange, thanks."

They were uncharacteristically cheerful, both of them.He can tell.They all have common sense, but sometimes it's best to let common sense go.What good is instinct when every man is always true to his own head?

Draco ignored the questions Hermione threw at him.

"What's wrong? What did he say?"

She got nothing, not even a hint, and maybe that anger was the biggest clue she got.

They pushed open the door of the Round Rock Hotel and went upstairs.

"You stop!" Hermione yelled.

He didn't stop, he kicked open the gate almost eagerly.When they were all in the room, Draco slammed the door and picked up his bag.

"Let's go," he said, "now."

Hermione couldn't believe he was yelling at her, she didn't think he even realized it.

"My God, things can't be that bad, can they?" She walked towards him, and it was her future that was at stake, and she would die if he continued to keep her out of the truth: "Can you stop telling me what happened What? Our solution? You didn't pay, did you? I don't see you giving him anything..."

He turned to her, and Hermione backed away in terror until her legs touched the edge of the bed.Now she could see his face clearly.It wasn't a teenager throwing a tantrum, it was a Malfoy in total rage.For a split second, Hermione thought he was really going to hit her.

"Shut up," he raised a finger, "Shut up now!"

Hermione took a step away from him, trembling and bewildered, but still determined to get all his attention, and she pulled out her wand and cast a blazing blast at the bed.

The corner of the sheet was on fire.

Draco stared at the flames for a while, until he seemed to break out of his bewilderment.He threw the sheet on the floor and stamped out the flames.

Then he stared at her as if she had gone mad: "You crazy dog..."

This time she pointed her wand at him, and he charged at her, grabbing her arm roughly.

"What do you think you are to me?"

"What?" she screamed, because she panicked, because she knew the question was unexpectedly stupid.But she could answer him, as long as he calmed down: "Take your hand off, Malfoy."

He shook her until her teeth rattled: "You're nothing, you understand? You're nothing to me, you boring, boring, boring, annoying woman."

Then he said something outrageous, some very egregious things.But there was not a word about her origin, but it was always in his mind at that time.He didn't call her a Mudblood, but he called her something else, a lowly being, until Hermione cut him off sharply with his foul-mouthed insults to Ron and Harry.It is no longer possible to sit back and listen to these slanders without responding.She was happy to realize that she had a limit, and that he had crossed it.

Damn it seemed like third grade again.

She struggled to free her right hand, knowing that there would be a circle of bruises the next day, and she slapped Draco with all her strength, and the sound of the slap was very loud in the small room.Her palms tingled, but she didn't regret it.

"How dare you say that!" She said hoarsely.

His head was knocked to one side, but he kept his balance.She shuddered remembering the force with which Lucius threw Draco whole.

Draco brushed the hair from his cheeks and tucked it behind his ears.The tip of his tongue licked the blood that spilled from the corner of his lips, and when he gasped in pain, his eyes became deep and hard.

"You really shouldn't have done that," he whispered.

Well, it's time to escape!A small warning voice screamed in Hermione's head, but she didn't heed it.The voice doesn't always know everything, it's her rational exhortation, but it doesn't come from the heart.

He pulled her to his chest, and it didn't hurt this time because he was gentle.

"I dare, you fucking need to know," he retorted, "Do you remember what I said at the motel? How would I retaliate if you hit me again?" he asked her, sliding his thumb down the bridge of her nose , with a rough tone.

"You're going to break my hand, aren't you?" she challenged.

He took her hand, the one on the right, the one that had slapped him twice since they met, and kissed her palm.The stubble on his chin was stinging, and Hermione thought it was time for him to shave.

"Hermione, it's not your hand," he clarified. "If you don't stay away from me, I'll destroy you."

She barely had time to discern the meaning of his words, and the other hand was suddenly grabbed.She tried to pull it back, but his confinement was tight.He wrapped around her feet, swept her legs cleanly, and pushed her down on the bed.

Should you panic?A voice in my head asked.

No, not yet.As he seemed to be giving her a chance to escape, Draco looked down at her with a strange expression on his face.

She didn't move.

He covered her, his breath hot and wet, spraying on her throat.She felt short of breath, dizzy, and had goosebumps wherever he touched her.The rough denim fabric rubbed against her bare legs, as if her nerve endings were suddenly screaming for their presence.He rubbed the hard front of his trousers against her soft lower abdomen, while biting her neck, and sucked hard behind her ear.

"If I can put your current taste into a bottle, I will be rich." His voice is long and intoxicating, and she thinks he must not know it.

Vaguely, she found that her hand was free.She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away.He laughed (maybe snarled, she couldn't tell) and buried her neck and bit her, and she turned to kiss him, to taste him, to use the way she knew he didn't Approach him the way you like.

But he backed away smartly, not because his self-control was different, nor because he used his charm to attract people's appetites.

Maybe he's just scared.

Draco propped himself up on his elbows, leaning over to look at Hermione almost deliberately.He was hard, and Hermione could feel it clearly through the clothes, as if a torch had been lit in her belly.Compared with the scorching heat, the metal buttons on the jeans looked extremely cold.

"I don't think you should be surprised by my nature." He kissed the corner of her mouth, and Hermione knew that if she licked it, she could taste blood.

Her affection was so real that she frightened herself, and Hermione dodged against the headboard, but he grabbed her ankles and dragged her back under him.She was sadly aware that her skirt had been rolled up to her waist, his shoes had been taken off, and her hands had been grabbed again.

She never thought of herself as a weak person, and of course it was her duty to share the housework with her. At Hogwarts, no matter how strong she thought she was, it was not worth mentioning to Malfoy.

The tension between them, that kind of pulsation and radiation, is not just because of emotion, but also the kind of tension that both sexes have had since ancient times.

"What do you do?" She had calmed down. It was a meaningless question, like asking a postman what his job is.

"Guess." He whispered against her lips, and he looked at her as if he wanted to remember every inch of her face.

She opened her mouth to say something clever, but he took the opportunity to attack.Hermione realized he wouldn't let her kiss him, he didn't want her submission.

He kissed and kissed, his lips pressed against hers, and the kiss made all the suffering they had endured for so long worth it.He sucked her lips, wrapped his tongue around hers, probing every inch he could reach, and if he reached the limit of his penetration, he tipped her head or clamped her jaw, and started all over again. Pass.She was panting, and he took the breath away from her and gave it to her again, only it was hotter.

He grabbed both of her wrists with one hand. It seemed impossible, but he did it.He weighed her down with the weight of his own body, and with his free hand he pulled her blouse up, over her head and off.

But he couldn't get the dress off the top because that would mean letting go of her hands, so he let it go, leaving the shirt in a heap on her head, at the elbows.

He had more trouble with her bra because the hook was on the back so he just pushed it up and out of the way.

Then, he did nothing.

He left her lips, his lips were red and moist, and looking at her made Hermione want to run to the mountains to join the Abbey.His gaze was so peaceful and heavy that she squirmed uncomfortably at it.But her breasts were delighted with this concentration, the nipples were as hard as stones.

He pitied her: "If you've read my mind this week, you'll know I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

Hermione's eyes were dazed, and Draco was rolling his tongue wetly around one nipple before sucking hard with his mouth.He spent a long time on it, rubbing his face against her cleavage, sucking her in, and doing the same with the other breast.Stare slowly, clasp passionately, and rub gently.

Hermione's toes curled up, and she shook her head back and forth, begging him to let her go.She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she couldn't tell him.

"You sat there eating breakfast, you just took a shower, and it smells so good," he leaned over and kissed her temples on both sides: "That's what I want to do to you." His voice was low, as if in her Back and forth in the spine.

"I want to walk over and have you sit on my lap and unbutton your shirt and play with your tits while you make my breakfast and feed it to my mouth. What do you think? "His words were exquisite, and he slightly bit the lower edge of his chest with his head sideways.

"I've been thinking since last year, you know how hard I've gotten? So I'm sometimes late to Transfiguration because I have to sit like a fool at the breakfast table and wait for everyone to pretty much leave, Pretend to drink pumpkin juice until I calm down?"

Hermione groaned, turning her head so he couldn't see her face.

"Granger," Draco said, taking her lips and enticing her to look at him with a short kiss.When she opened her eyes, there were tears in her eyes: "Do you know how I know you are ready?" His voice was gentle with sarcasm, this combination made people want to die.

She shook her head, but only got a sarcastic smile.

"Because you got hot, got wet, because you made these beautiful moans. I can't remember the first time we were together, but if I forget your reaction, I'll be damned."

His hands slid down her body.

"No," she said angrily, "Draco, we can't do this."

She could not allow their love to descend into rage and terror, a path that, she was sure, would lead only to pain and failure.

He responded by digging his fingers into the thigh where the tattoo was located until she cried out, "Not 'Draco', you arrogant little thing. To you, I'm Malfoy and have always been Malfoy. I'm my father's son after all, and you know what a man I am."

"I know who you are!" Hermione exclaimed.

His palms rubbed against her sensitivity provocatively, and pinched her panties: "You don't know, but you will understand. I will let you understand, and then we can solve this little problem, right?"

"You are not your father," she whispered.

His hand had reached the target, her panties were no hindrance to him, and he pushed the fabric aside, his eyes dark and deep, his temples throbbing.

"I'm still young, give me time..."

Draco had no damn idea what he was doing by this point, and he thought he had a flash, but it only lasted ten minutes, three kisses, and taking off a white cotton bra.

His plan was to scare her so that she wouldn't look at him that way again, and she would have no affection for him.He should have known that his best plans would turn into mud if they ran into Hermione Granger.

Maybe it's time to live up to family expectations after all.

He touched her, barely restraining a moan of pleasure, his index finger sliding into her wetness, and she was ready.

His thumb found that little sensitive spot, the sensitive spot that made all the difference, and pressed it around.She twisted her legs, took his hand between them, and began to groan, which he loved so much.

She felt ashamed, more ashamed than he remembered, and it reminded him to come in slowly.

His movements are no longer clumsy, he lifts his hips to remove his pants, pulls them down a bit, the boxers and jeans are ripped off, and he frees himself.

Hermione felt him pressed between her legs, and if she looked down, she knew she could see the hot, naked hardness against her as he grabbed her legs and wrapped them around him.

"Close your eyes," he ordered, his voice tense.

"Do not."

"Close your eyes and do it... or I'll turn you over, and you don't want me to turn you over, Hermione."

"I don't!" Her voice was hoarse, and she didn't know she was crying until she tasted the salt in her eyes.

He looked at her angrily: "why?"

"Because after today, I may never see you again, right?" She choked up, she thought he probably really wanted to do something to her, and she was ready, she felt that she was a fool, She knew she wouldn't forgive him if he did this, and Draco wouldn't forgive himself.

But then Draco buried his head in her chest and sighed, and her hands were free.

"Give me a break, you damned."

"Unless you want to push me down again." She pressed against his hair, she wanted to touch him, but he still held her hand.

He must have sensed her sudden strange calmness, which irritated him, and he shook her: "I'm for you, you fool!"

"Do you know what happened here and now?" she yelled at him. "I gave myself to you, Draco. If I misunderstood you and you didn't want me at all, then God would kill me ’” Her voice became weak: “I know what you feel, so why don’t you believe in yourself just once?”

The way he looked at her conveyed his fear clearly, she knew him so well.But he knew how to answer.

Never love others more than others love you, but why?

Because every good thing is lost eventually.

Because a crush is a poisonous wound that festers, and then he's left with nothing.A vast, empty abyss.No mother, no friends, and no love.It was like Malfoy Manor, dead and empty, just a father who saw him as a burden and a failure.

Rather than being devoured to destruction by love, if you don't understand love, you will suffer less.

she won't really love me...

Ask her, you idiot! "I..." he said.But there is nothing to say.Wanting to separate from her, wanting to save her from this unwanted marriage, he knew that something inside of him had been lodged, something that would never be healed.

How could he demand the same affection from her?Granger, she was so healthy, so whole, with such an astonishing ability to love.

Hermione was going through her own little realization that there was no real relief.Not for their feelings, but for what Arne had said to Draco.That's why they were able to get out of that place without paying a single nat.

Because there is no real way to break the spell.

Draco felt her small surprise, the stiffness of her body, a sense of frustration that he had never experienced before.She gave him a chance, and he failed, if he could have predicted it.All was lost because Hermione would not forgive what he had done.

He pressed a kiss on her forehead awkwardly, ready to leave.

Hermione wrapped her legs around him, and with all the courage she had left, she lifted her chin and kissed his lips before he left.

His reaction was quick, he ran his fingers into her hair, he moaned and kissed her hard, a mixture of unbelievable desperation and tenderness.In this ecstatic kiss, his soul had been naked and honest, Hermione limp with its power.

There was nothing to do but hold him tight, he must have been terrified, and the thought of him letting her go made her feel weak and empty right after.

Only by embracing tightly, the shackles, wires, and fortresses that entangled his heart will be shattered. She is immersed in the most intense emotions of Draco, and truly owns him.

She heard voices, their small gasps, sobs, moans in the air, as if she were a bystander.

He moved away to catch his breath and she looked up to follow, not wanting to lose the tension that held their bodies together.

The way he closed his eyes as if suffering sharp physical pain, he hung over her, the muscles in his shoulders and arms tensed, not wanting to let his weight rest on her.

She knew that if she didn't say something right away, the gates of the fort would slam shut and the darkness he had suffered would steal him away again.

"Stay with me." She told him, not asking, but telling, her eyes conveying attraction.

"How to be together?" He was panting, looking at her as if she was forbidden to touch, his voice was muffled.

"Like this." She said, reaching out to hold his face, leaving fine wet kisses on his lips, the corners of his bleeding mouth, the bridge of his nose, and his cheekbones: "Like this." She repeated, letting herself hug him tightly Him, calm him down, put him at ease.

The haze that had hung over his eyes was gone, and the parts she had discovered and sorted out in the past two weeks gradually became clear, and there was no cover, the Chicheng was exposed.

"Tell me." His eyes wandered to her face, and he grabbed her hand so she couldn't distract him with touch: "Please."

It wasn't for nothing that Remus Lupine called Hermione the smartest witch her age, and Hermione knew the solution was surprisingly simple.He would be afraid to give himself up if he didn't know that she would return equally intense affection.

"I'm in love with you, Draco. God bless me, I'm trying to hold it back." It's ridiculously easy to say, a few days ago, she would not admit it unless someone whipped her with a belt.

He backed away a little, and for a while Hermione thought she had lost the fight.But with a trembling breath, he buried his face in her neck and stayed there for a full minute.Did nothing but breathe and hug.

Relieved, elated, and terrified, she put her arms around him, wishing her hands would be longer or that he would be smaller.

Then he lay down next to her and brought her face to face, just as he had woken her up the morning after graduation, this time, she was wide awake.

He pulled her legs around his waist, and the hardness touched the softness.He cupped her hip with his other hand, stroking her dragon tattoo.

"If we do, you'll be mine." His enthusiasm is intoxicating: "You're mine, you know?"

He was giving her one last chance to escape.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, he's such a fussy guy, maybe being direct is the best way for her dull husband.

"Malfoy, my God, you just do it quickly."

"You're going to kill me." He almost gritted his teeth, she wanted to tell him to stop talking nonsense, but she just opened her mouth, and what came out was a violent gasp.He rushed in, one shot without root.

He took Hermione, rolled over on his back, and let her straddle him.There was something completely hard and hot and thick inside her.He said something, but it wasn't English, she thought it was French.It sounded like a curse, but it was the sexiest word Hermione had ever heard.

Hermione leaned forward, resting her hands on his chest.He closed his eyes, and she wished he could open them, and she was nervous when she couldn't see his eyes.His hands squeezed her buttocks tightly, and he led her up and down hard, causing her heart to almost miss a beat.

There it was again, a perfect, wonderful fit.Drunk or sober, just being together is undeniably beautiful.

Draco's mind was going to explode and he had to close his eyes because the way she rode him was so beautiful.What she said to him earlier flashed before his eyes, if it wasn't enough to make him disarm early, then the feeling of her wrapping him tightly was also enough.

It was too late, he couldn't take it anymore, Merlin, she turned him into a lewd, crazy, obsessed, early-finish gunslinger.

"I'm sorry." He was a little annoyed, and finally made a completely ferocious sprint with all his strength.

Hermione was on his chest, he was so quiet she thought she had killed him.She straightened up, pushed her arm back from the hair in front of her eyes, and stared at him.

"Malfoy, don't forget to breathe."

He half-opened his eyes, which were a calm, mild gray, and filled with nothing but sleep, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"I haven't forgotten."