ME AND THE DEVIL- Dramione

NSFW chapters will be following after this. 

The next morning, sunlight, pale and forgiving, peeked through the heavy drapes, painting stripes of gold across the rumpled bed sheets. In his arms, she slept soundly, her breath a calming counterpoint to the erratic rhythm of his heart.

He lay there, tangled in the sheets with her, a sense of wonder washing over him. It wasn't just the warmth of her body, or the way her fiery curls spilled like a halo across his arm. It was the quiet intimacy of the scene, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had dominated their lives just yesterday. 

This, this right here, was a feeling he wasn't familiar with – a feeling of completeness, of belonging.

Cerefully, as if afraid to shatter the fragile peace, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The movement stirred her slightly, and she mumbled something incoherent, burrowing deeper into his chest. A shaky smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

This, this right here, was a feeling he wasn't familiar with – a feeling of completeness, of belonging.

She stirred slightly, nuzzling closer to him. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest, the soft warmth of her skin against his. It was as if everything in the world had aligned perfectly just for this moment.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning love," he replied softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than ever," she said with a small smile, her eyes still closed. "I think I could stay like this forever."

"I wouldn't mind that," he admitted, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her back. "In fact, I would love nothing more."

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his in a gaze filled with unspoken emotions. In that silent language, they both understood.

Leaning in slowly, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with gratitude, with the unspoken promise of a future they would build together, and with a love that had blossomed from the ashes of the past.

She opened her eyes then, looking up at him with a mixture of love and contentment. "You make me so happy, Draco," she whispered.

"And you make me happier than I ever thought possible," he replied, leaning down to kiss her gently.

She smiled, closing her eyes again and snuggling closer. "Then let's just stay here a little while longer."

He tightened his hold on her, feeling a sense of peace he had never known before. "I like the sound of that," he whispered, closing his eyes and letting himself drift back into the warmth and comfort of their embrace.

At that moment, everything was perfect. The past and its shadows were far away, and all that mattered was the love they shared, here and now.

Yet, despite the tranquility of the moment, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that lingered at the back of his mind. Weasel. The encounter from a week ago still haunted him. The thought of Ronald snitching on him, telling Hermione or worse, alerting the authorities kept gnawing at his peace.

He tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the feel of Hermione in his arms, her warmth, her scent, the sound of her breathing. But the anxiety was a stubborn shadow, refusing to be banished entirely.

"Draco," her voice brought him back to the present. She looked up at him, concerned, flickering in her eyes. "Is everything alright?"

He forced a smile, nodding. "Of course, love. Everything is perfect."

But as she lay back down, resting her head on his chest, he knew he needed to find a way to ensure their happiness wasn't threatened. He couldn't let his fears ruin what they had. Somehow.

A sliver of sunlight speared through the curtains, casting a curious spotlight across her chest. As his gaze drifted down, a familiar pang of guilt twisted in his gut.

There, etched pale against her sun-kissed skin, were the jagged scars – a brutal reminder of the Battle of Hogwarts. They were more than just wounds; they were a map of the war's savagery, a constant whisper of the life they'd almost lost.

One scar, jagged and angry, stood out from the rest. It wasn't the longest, nor the deepest, but it held a weight all its own. It was a daily echo of a desperate choice, a spell cast in the nick of time. Greyback lunged at a semi-conscious Lavender Brown, his feral hunger a horrifying echo of the monster he was. Her response had been instinctive, a desperate blast that sent him flying. But the spell, a powerful one, had come at a cost, etching a permanent reminder onto her own skin. The memory of her wand trembling in her hand, the raw terror in Lavender's eyes, was a constant companion, a silent testament to the burden she carried – the weight of a life saved, and the mark of the magic that almost consumed her.

But the scar also held another truth, a truth that gnawed at him with a different kind of pain. It was a secret he shared only with her, a secret that cast a long shadow over their fragile happiness. He had lied to everyone, claiming it was a lucky deflection of a rogue curse. The truth, the burden of saving Lavender's life at the cost of revealing a darker secret about himself, was a weight he carried alone, a silent promise etched onto his soul. Giving his beautiful wife a painful reminder. 

Fenrir Greyback's savagery laid bare, a testament to a past Draco had only a peripheral role in, yet one that still filled him with a cold fury.

He traced the outline of a scar with his finger, the memory of her scream echoing in the farthest corner of his mind. 

But right now sadness was a luxury he couldn't afford. Not anymore.

Vowing silently, he tightened his hold on her, anchoring her to him. He would be her shield from now on. No more would he stand by as darkness threatened to engulf her. He wasn't just Draco Malfoy anymore, not to her. He was her protector, her confidant, and something more. He would fight for her, with her, every step of the way. Because in the quiet dawn light, with the ghosts of the past momentarily subdued, all he craved was a future where he could chase away the nightmares and replace them with dreams – dreams where they both felt safe, loved, and whole.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He navigated Diagon Alley with a newfound urgency. The once-casual meander of his childhood visits morphed into a determined stride. The usual thrill of browsing trinkets in shop windows was replaced by a laser focus on his destination. Every bustling corner felt like an obstacle, every flamboyant peacock feather boa a distraction. He had something specific to acquire, and time was of the essence.

The cheery bustle of Diagon Alley faded behind him as he ducked into a narrow side street. The cobblestones here were slick and uneven underfoot, a stark contrast to the polished flagstones he'd just left behind. Knockturn Alley, its very name a shiver down his spine, greeted him with a cold, stale air that sent a shiver down his spine. Here, shadows clung to the crooked buildings, their upper stories shrouded in an unnatural gloom. 

The only light came from the faint gaslights lining the alley, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with every gust of the unseen wind. He tightened his grip on his cloak, the material suddenly feeling too thin against the sudden chill. He pressed on, his steps echoing in the oppressive silence, until he reached a nondescript shopfront. Its peeling paint and boarded windows hinted at the secrets it held within. This was it. He took a deep breath, readying himself for what awaited him inside the gloom.

He pushed open the creaking door, wincing at the rusty hinges' screech that seemed to echo through the narrow alley. He stepped into the shop, the dim light revealing shelves crammed with dusty curios. 

An unsettling silence hung in the air, broken only by the faint tick of a grandfather clock in the back corner. The air, thick with the scent of mildew and something far more unsettling, clung to him like a shroud. He couldn't quite place the foul odor, but it sent a shiver down his spine. This place felt wrong, but he was determined to find what he needed.

The smell of dust and age filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint scent of something far less pleasant. Shelves lined the walls, filled with dark artifacts, cursed objects, and other items best left untouched.

Oh what a lovely trip down memory lane, to the same shop where they got the fucking cabinet.

The shopkeeper, a hunched figure shrouded in shadow, emerged from behind a towering display of caged creatures. Their glowing eyes followed him as he entered, sending another ripple of unease down his spine. A twisted smile played on the shopkeeper's lips, revealing more teeth than he cared to count. "Well, well, well," he rasped, his voice like nails scraping a chalkboard. "What brings young Malfoy back to my humble establishment?"

"I need a wand," he said, his voice steady but firm. "An untraceable one."

The shopkeeper's eyes gleamed with interest. "Ah, going off the grid, are we? Very well. Follow me."

He followed the man through a narrow door at the back of the shop, down a flight of rickety stairs into a basement filled with a collection of wands that had no rightful owner. Each wand was unique, with a dark history that could be felt in the very air.

"The price," the shopkeeper said, his eyes never leaving his face.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a heavy bag of Galleons, dropping it onto the counter without hesitation. "This should cover it."

The shopkeeper's eyes gleamed as he took the money. "Pleasure doing business again with you, Mr. Malfoy. Use it wisely."

He tucked the wand away, a cold certainty settling in his stomach alongside the comforting weight of the object. He couldn't dwell on the darkness he'd just encountered; her safety depended on his focus. With a final, lingering glance at the shadowed shopfront, he strode back into Diagon Alley. The carefree bustle of the street felt foreign now, a stark contrast to the clandestine world he'd just glimpsed. Yet, beneath the apprehension, a flicker of determination burned. He had made his choice, and there was no turning back. The path ahead might be treacherous, but for her, he would face any darkness.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He apparated into the Zabini residence, unannounced and uninvited. The sound of his sudden arrival startled the couple while Ginerva being raw dogged on the dining table. Blaise and Ginerva looked up in shock, their intimate time momentarily interrupted.

"Merlin, Ginerva, I'll need to obliviate myself," he exclaimed, covering his eyes with both hands. Her bum was more white than he had anticipated, and he felt a flush of embarrassment at his intrusion.

Ginny quickly adjusted her dress and gave him a pointed look. "Ferret, what on earth are you doing here?" she asked, her voice a mix of irritation and surprise.

Blaise, ever the composed one, leaned back in his chair in his birthday suit and raised an eyebrow. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Malfoy?"

He dropped his hands and sighed, feeling a bit sheepish. "I need your help," he admitted, his tone serious. "

Ginny's irritation softened slightly, replaced by concern. "What's wrong, Malfoy?"

He took a seat, glancing around to ensure they were alone. "It's about something that you have no business sticking your nose into."

Blaise exchanged a look with Ginny, then she nodded. "Alright, Ferret, then I'm out of the room." 

"AND NEXT TIME LET ME HAVE AT LEAST TWO ORGASMS BEFORE YOU BARGE IN." Ginny collected her knickers from the table and left upstairs.

He took a deep breath, recounting the events of the past week. He told Blaise about his fears of Ron revealing their secrets, Ferir, the visit to the black market, and the acquisition of the untraceable wand. As he spoke, the gravity of the situation settled over the room, casting a pallor on the previously lighthearted evening.

"I need to protect my wife from him," he said, his voice resolute. "And I need your help to do it."

Blaise nodded in agreement. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, Zabini was dressed in his immaculate Valentino suit and headed out to the joke shop WWW, where Ronald worked. He watched as his friend adjusted his tie with meticulous care, every movement precise and deliberate.

"Make sure that he gets the massage" he commanded, a hint of command in his voice.

"Leave it to me," he said, a glint in his eye. "Weasley won't know what hit him."

He couldn't help but smirk. "Just... try to keep it subtle," he cautioned, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "We don't want to attract any unwanted Ministry attention."

At Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the vibrant atmosphere contrasted starkly with Blaise's mission. The shop buzzed with energy, colorful products lining the shelves and cheerful customers milling about. Blaise strode in, his presence commanding attention despite the jovial surroundings.

Ronald, who was busy assisting a group of young witches with a selection of prank items, looked up and spotted Blaise. His expression shifted from confusion to wariness as Blaise approached.

"Ronald Weasley," Blaise greeted smoothly, his voice cutting through the chatter.

Ron straightened, his eyes narrowing. "Zabini. What do you want?"

Blaise smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Just a word. In private, if you don't mind."

Ron glanced around, then nodded curtly. "Fine. Follow me."

They moved to the back of the shop, away from prying eyes and ears. Once they were alone, Ron crossed his arms and faced Blaise. "Alright, what is this about?"

Blaise's demeanor shifted from casual to serious in an instant." he came to me with concerns about your recent... interactions with her. He's worried about what you might do."

Ron scoffed. "Worried, is he? After everything he's done?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow - "And what is that he done"?

Ron's eyes flashed with anger. "He married her, manipulated her. He's the reason she's not talking to us anymore".

Blaise's gaze hardened. "Be that as it may, this isn't the time for grudges. Malfoy has made it clear that he won't tolerate any threats to her safety. And I'm here to make sure you understand that."

Ron stared at Blaise, a mixture of resentment and grudging respect in his eyes. "So, what? You're here to intimidate me?"

Blaise's smile returned, this time with a hint of genuine amusement, while pulling out a Wasp Injector knife. "That we're all on the same page. Her happiness is OUR priority. If you truly care about her, you'll stay out of their way."

Ron clenched his jaw but remained silent, the weight of Blaise's words sinking in.

Blaise nodded, satisfied. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other."

With that, Blaise turned and left the shop, leaving Ron standing alone, his thoughts a tumultuous mix of anger, regret, and reluctant acceptance.

Malfoy waited outside of the shop, enjoying his mint flavored ice cream like nothing happened inside. "Did Weasel get the message?" he asked.

With a smirk, Blaise just smiled, tucking his knife into his belt. "He did," he answered.

Muggles are good at some inventions at least. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Relief washed over him as he entered the familiar warmth of his home, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten.She was curled up on the sofa, a book in her lap. A smile bloomed on his face.

"There you are," he said, his voice softening. He noticed a package addressed to her on the coffee table.

"Oh, Draco!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What's this?"

He reached down and picked up the package, a playful glint in his eyes. "A little something I found while I was out."

She gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautifully wrapped box. Her brow furrowed slightly as she saw the designer label.

"Draco, this is..." she began, searching for the right words. 

She opened the box, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. "Draco, I can't accept this. Do you even know who Valentino is? This is incredibly expensive."

A hint of amusement flickered across his face. "Let's just say I have a way of acquiring things," he replied enigmatically. "Besides, you're worth every Knut, darling."

He brushed a stray curl from her forehead, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. Witnessing her initial surprise morph into a hesitant smile warmed him from the inside out.

"Open it," he urged gently. "See if it suits you."

She held the dress in her hands, eyes wide.

"FALL/WINTER 1999/2000. Naomi Campbell walked the runway during the Fall 1999 show wearing that dress. Best witch of her time. I know my fashion, darling," he smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

A wave of warmth washed over him as her eyes shone with a mixture of awe and gratitude. "Draco," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "this is... it's breathtaking."

He leaned in, his gaze meeting hers. "You deserve every bit of beauty in the world, Hermione," he murmured, his voice husky with sincerity. "This is just a token compared to the way you make me feel."

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. 

"Thank you, Draco," she choked out, squeezing his hands tightly. "This means more than you know."

He pulled her into a gentle embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. "Anything for you, love. Anything and everything."

"Is there a special occasion?" she asked, curiosity lighting up her eyes.

"We are invited to have dinner with Pansy and Longbottom," Draco replied with a grin.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Pansy and Neville? Are they celebrating something?"

"Yes, their latest argument over whether to use dragon dung or mooncalf dung in their garden. Riveting stuff," he said, rolling his eyes.

She laughed. "Well, in that case, I'd better make sure I look as stunning as this dress."

"I'll go change so we can match," he said, marching to the closet.

She laughed, calling after him, "You mean you have a matching Valentino suit?"

His voice floated back, filled with mock offense, "Darling, if I don't, then what's the point of having impeccable taste?"

She shook her head, smiling. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it," he shot back, grinning as he disappeared into the closet.

She indeed loves it. Him… no, not him, definitely not him. What the fuck.???

They arrived at the Parkinson mansion, their playful bickering momentarily forgotten as they were struck by the grandeur of the estate. Hand in hand, they walked up the grand steps, the heavy oak door swinging open to reveal Neville Longbottom. His face split into a wide grin as he ushered them inside.

"Hermione!" Neville boomed, his warm smile as inviting as ever. He pulled her into a friendly hug, the gesture radiating genuine affection. "It's so good to see you. And Draco," he added, turning to him with a nod, "good to have you here as well."

He met Neville's gaze, a hint of his usual amusement flickering in his grey eyes. 

"Longbottom," he replied coolly, offering a firm handshake. "The pleasure is all mine."

Neville ushered them inside, the grand entryway giving way to a tastefully decorated living room. "Come in, come in," he said, his enthusiasm infectious. "Pansy's just putting the finishing touches on dinner in the dining room. She'll be thrilled to see you both."

A wry smile touched her lips. "Lovely," she replied, stepping over the threshold.

As they entered the dining room, Pansy materialized from the kitchen, a flourish in her movements as she placed a steaming platter on the table. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of them.

"Oh, so you've graced us with your presence," Pansy drawled, her tone laced with a familiar coldness. Pansy's gaze landed on her, a sardonic glint in her icy blue eyes. "Granger, you look... different. Finally decided to embrace some femininity, have we?"

A flicker of amusement flitted across her face. "Good evening, Pansy," she replied, her voice calm and collected. "And thank you, I rather like this dress."

Pansy scoffed, turning her attention to him. "Draco darling," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, "you look as smug as ever." 

A curious glint lit up her eyes. "So, tell us all about it then," she pressed gently, her tone light but laced with genuine curiosity. "How are things going with the newly married life?"

Pansy and Neville exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them in the blink of an eye. A blush crept up Pansy's neck, a welcome change from her usual icy demeanor.

"Amazing," they both answered in unison, their voices filled with a newfound warmth that sent a surprised smile across her face. It seemed Pansy and Neville had a story to tell, and Hermione, for one, was eager to hear it.

Pansy's smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Who knew a Ministry-enforced marriage could turn out so well?" she drawled, her voice laced with amusement. "Seems the Wizengamot stumbled onto some accidental talent at matchmaking."

Neville chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It's been... an interesting adjustment, to say the least," he admitted, squeezing Pansy's hand affectionately. "We even got a pug named Lady Lemongrass. But the biggest news is..."

He trailed off, his gaze flickering towards a fluffy pug nestled comfortably at Pansy's feet. The little creature, sporting a fancy pink collar with a silver name tag that read "Lady Lemongrass," looked up with a snuffle and a wag of her curly tail.

"We're expecting our first furbaby!" Pansy declared, her voice filled with pride as she reached down to scratch Lady Lemongrass behind the ears. "So, you see, Granger, there's more to marriage than meets the eye. Even Ministry-arranged ones can come with adorable surprises."

Her lips curved into a warm smile. 

A Ministry-sanctioned marriage for a pug? It was certainly unconventional, but seeing the joy radiating from Pansy and Neville as they doted on their furry companion, it was clear that their little family was thriving in its own unique way.

Oh she definitely wanted to have a pug as well. Crooks will be pissed. Nevermind.

Pansy, ever the opportunist, raised an eyebrow at their exchange. "Well, well," she drawled, her voice laced with amusement. "Looks like love is blooming even outside of Ministry mandates. So, tell us all about it, lovebirds. How's married life treating you?"

He cleared his throat, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor, a rare sight for the usually composed Malfoy. He stole a glance at her, his eyes warm with affection.

"Better than I ever could have imagined," he admitted, his voice softer than usual. 

"Hermione," he continued, his gaze lingering on her, "has been... my guiding light."

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink at his unexpected compliment. A small smile played on her lips, betraying the flutter in her chest. "It's definitely been an adjustment," she conceded, her voice honest. "But..." she trailed off, her eyes meeting his in a silent conversation. "But," she finished with a newfound confidence, "I think we're finding our way, together."

Pansy's sharp gaze flickered between them, her lips quivering with a hint of a smile. "Finding your way, huh?" she drawled, the amusement clear in her voice. "That sounds like there's a story there. Care to share a snippet, lovebirds?"

She exchanged a hesitant glance with him. Sharing their unconventional journey wasn't something they did lightly. But perhaps, with Pansy and Neville seemingly finding happiness in their own unexpected way, the time was right.

"Maybe another time," he said smoothly, deflecting Pansy's teasing with a charming smile. "Tonight, let's celebrate Neville and Pansy's news. To new beginnings!"

Neville, ever the peacekeeper, chimed in with a relieved smile. "Hear, hear! I'm just glad we're all here together," he said, raising his glass. "It's nice to have friends who understand, even when things get a little... unconventional."

A collective chuckle rose around the table, the tension easing. They exchanged a secret smile, a silent understanding passing between them. Their journey together might be unconventional, but in this unexpected company, they found a sense of acceptance and a glimmer of hope for their own happily ever after.

"To friends, old and new," they all echoed, clinking their glasses together. The sound resonated through the grand dining room, a toast to the bonds that held them together, no matter how unconventional they may be.

The dinner proceeded with laughter and shared stories, the initial tension giving way to genuine camaraderie. As the night wore on, the four of them realized that, despite their pasts, they were carving out a new future—one where friendship and love could flourish, even in the most unexpected places.

He raised an eyebrow. "You both seem rather chipper. What's the occasion?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from uncomfortable topics.

"We're just happy to see you both," Neville said with a smile.

Pansy leaned in, her expression more serious. "Actually, we have something important to discuss with you," she said, her gaze shifting between them.

Neville chuckled softly, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "Yes, we've decided that it's time we have a proper wedding, not the simple Ministry one that we were forced to attend. Something more special."

He nodded, offering his congratulations. "Congratulations. When are you planning to have the wedding?"

"We haven't set a date yet, but we wanted to share the news with you first," Pansy explained, her smile widening. "We're hoping for a grand but intimate ceremony with just our closest friends and family, around 435 people."

"Of course, we'll be there," she said warmly, her heart warmed by the idea of celebrating their friends' happiness. They clearly had a different opinion about what a small and intimate wedding meant.

"Thank you," Neville said gratefully. "Your support means a lot to us."

"We were hoping you and Hermione might be able to attend. It wouldn't be the same without our friends there." Neville said, beaming.

Pansy, ever the pragmatist, cut in with a pointed look at him. "Not just attend," she said, emphasizing each word. "We were hoping you both might be interested in... participating."

His surprise deepened. "Participating?" he repeated, his gaze darting between Pansy and Neville. "What exactly do you mean?"

A sly grin spread across Neville's face. 

"Well, Draco," he began, leaning forward conspiratorially, "we've decided we want our wedding to be a bit... unconventional. And who better to help us pull it off than a Malfoy and a Granger?"

She smiled, feeling a surge of warmth at the request. "I'd love to help, Pansy. It sounds like it will be a beautiful wedding."

As the conversation shifted to wedding plans and fond memories, he found himself feeling an unfamiliar sense of contentment. The war and the pain it caused seemed to be fading, replaced by these moments of genuine connection and happiness. He glanced at Hermione, her face lit up with excitement as she discussed flower arrangements with Pansy, and felt a swell of gratitude for the unexpected turns his life had taken.

After dinner, they moved to the sitting room for dessert and tea. Neville, ever the gracious host, served everyone a slice of treacle tart while Pansy poured the tea.

"So, how are things at work?" Neville asked, looking at her.

"Busy as ever," she replied with a chuckle. "But rewarding. We're making significant strides in magical creature rights."

"And you, Draco?" Pansy inquired, her tone more familiar and less formal.

He shrugged slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. "The family business is keeping me occupied. We're exploring some new ventures, trying to distance ourselves from the old ways. I'm just glad I'm working from home."

Pansy nodded approvingly. "That's good to hear. It's important for you to keep moving forward."

As the evening drew to a close, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and new beginnings. The scars of the past were still there, but they were beginning to heal, replaced by the promise of a brighter future.

When it was time to leave, Pansy and Neville walked them to the door. "Thank you for coming," Pansy said, hugging her tightly. "And for agreeing to help with the wedding."

"Of course," she replied, smiling. "I'm looking forward to it."

He shook Neville's hand once more. "Goodnight, Longbottom. We'll see you soon."

"Goodnight, Malfoy," Neville responded, a genuine warmth in his voice. "Take care, both of you."

As they walked back to their car, hand in hand, she leaned her head on Hisshoulder. "Tonight was nice," she said softly.

He nodded, squeezing her hand. "Yes, it was. And I think it's just the beginning."

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they strolled through the quiet streets under the moonlight, her mind wandered back to their own Ministry wedding. It had been a rushed, formal affair, devoid of the warmth and love she had always dreamed of. Lost in thought, she turned to him, her eyes searching his.

"Draco, do you feel like our Ministry ceremony was dull and meaningless?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of sadness.

He paused, his expression thoughtful as he considered her question. "Yes, darling," he admitted, his voice sincere. "I do. It felt more like an obligation than a celebration. It was something imposed on us by the Marriage Law, not something we choose for ourselves."

She sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and melancholy at his honesty. "I thought so too.

He stopped walking and turned to face her, taking both of her hands in his. "You deserve a day that's perfect, surrounded by people who care about us, celebrating our love. I always wanted to give you that, darling. 

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they had faced so much darkness and adversity, but together, they had found something beautiful.

And with that, they walked home, hand in hand, ready to embark on the next chapter of their lives together—one filled with hope, love, and the promise of a beautiful future.

She went to take a relaxing bubble bath, and he followed her into the bathroom. He watched her for a moment, admiring the way the candlelight flickered over the water and her serene expression. As she settled into the tub, he approached and knelt beside her, his fingers lightly tracing over the scar on her ribs.

"May I ask who did this to you?" he asked softly, concern evident in his voice. He obviously knew it, but he needed the ammunition for the plan.

Her eyes flickered with a mix of pain and hesitation. "It was Fenrir Greyback," she answered quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes, not wanting to revisit the memories associated with that attack.

His expression darkened briefly at the mention of Greyback's name, but he quickly masked it with a reassuring smile. "You're incredibly brave, darling, these are your battle scars." he said sincerely, his hand moving gently from her scar to cup her cheek. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Just know that I'm here for you."

She opened her eyes and met his gaze, a flicker of gratitude passing between them. She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, Draco," she murmured. "For being here, for understanding."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Always, and forever" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water and the soft hum of the bathroom.

"Are you not going to join?" she asked, motioning toward the bath.

He smiled and glanced at the steaming water. "Anything that you want, love." He immediately stripped off his clothes and walked over to the bath.

He chuckled softly. "Something that you like?" He asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

She was blushing deeply. "I … never saw.. It's big..."

Big was quite an understatement, Draco Malfoy had a huge cock.

He chuckled softly, understanding her embarrassment. "Don't worry, love. When the time comes, I'll make sure it fits." he said with a reassuring tone with the biggest satisfactory smirk on his face.

They enjoyed their bath time together, relaxing in each other's arms. The warm water and soothing bubbles surrounded them, creating a cocoon of peace and intimacy. He gently traced his fingers over her breast, his touch both tender and reassuring. She leaned into him, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"You know," he murmured softly, "this is exactly where I want to be, with you, always."

She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. "Me too," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "I feel safe with you, Draco."

He smiled, a rare genuine smile that reached his eyes. "I'll always protect you, Hermione. I promise you that."

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other's presence, content in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in each other's affection.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke up in the morning with a burning determination. 

Greyback hurt his wife, left her with scars that would never fade, scars that haunted her dreams and marked her body. He threw back the covers, the cold air a welcome shock against the simmering rage that coiled in his gut. His fists clenched around the bedsheets, knuckles turning white. How dare that vicious werewolf leave his mark on her, his brilliant Hermione? 

The injustice of it all threatened to choke him. There would be a reckoning, he vowed silently. He wouldn't let this transgression stand. The memory of her whispered fears, the vulnerability he'd glimpsed in her eyes, steeled his resolve. He had to make her safe, truly safe. Training with Blaise felt sluggish lately, but that was about to change. He would be even more relentless, honing his skills until he could guarantee her safety. 

The thought of it made his blood boil. How could anyone do such a thing to her? She was the love of his life, his everything, and she deserved nothing but love and protection. 

Today, he would end Greyback. He would make him pay for every bit of pain he had caused her. His fists clenched, and his jaw set with determination. Nothing and no one would stand in his way. 

This was personal, and he knew what he had to do. He had to protect her, no matter the cost.

What a possessive little shit.

He paced in front of the fireplace, his expression serious and resolute. He picked up the floo powder and threw it into the flames, calling out for Blaise and Theo.

The flames turned green, and soon Blaise's face appeared in the fire. "Draco, what's going on?" he asked, noticing the urgency in his eyes.

"Theo, get over here!" he called out, his voice commanding. Moments later, Theo's face joined Blaise's in the fire.

"What's the matter, Draco?" Theo asked, concern evident in his voice.

"If anything happens to me," he began, his voice firm and unwavering, "you lads need to take care of Granger. That is not a favor, that is an order!"

Blaise and Theo exchanged a look, understanding the seriousness of his request. They nodded in unison.

"Consider it done," Blaise assured him.

Theo chimed in, "Understood. 

He nodded, gratitude filling his eyes. "Thank you, both of you," he said. "I'll be in touch."

With that, he ended the floo call, his mind set on his mission. He knew what he had to do to protect Hermione, and nothing would stand in his way.

He packed his provisions for the coming night. Not food or water, but instruments of vengeance. His new wand, crafted from an unknown material that pulsed with a faint, malevolent light, felt heavy in his hand. He slipped on the Death Eater boots, their surface polished to an unnatural sheen, the mark of the skull branded into the leather a chilling reminder of the darkness he now embraced.

On his desk lay a fragment of parchment, its edges burned and blackened. Strange symbols, like writhing insects, writhed across its surface, letters that seemed to move and rearrange themselves as he watched. It was a forbidden map, procured from a hidden vault deep within the Malfoy Manor, restricted for generations. Its secrets pulsed with a dark power, the path to Greyback traced in a sickly green luminescence.

He traced the path with his finger, his lips moving in an inaudible incantation. The air in the room grew heavy, the shadows deepening around him. He was no longer Draco Malfoy, reluctant follower. Tonight, he was vengeance personified, and the forest he was about to enter held no terrors for him, only the promise of a terrible retribution.

The air was tense with determination as he gathered the last of his supplies. 

He checked the potions he had brewed meticulously for years, ensuring each vial was securely stoppered. The plan was risky, but he couldn't allow Greyback to roam freely after what he had done to his wife.

The crisp night air slapped Draco awake as He Apparated to the forest's edge. Starlight, a million pinpricks against velvet, offered a mocking contrast to the churning darkness beneath the trees. Memories of her tearful confession, the raw vulnerability etched on her face, flooded his mind. He remembered the terror in her eyes as she spoke of Greyback's touch, the scars that marked more than just her skin. A silent vow hardened his jaw. The werewolf would pay for every mark, every stolen breath of peace.

He stepped into the forest, the dense canopy swallowing the dying embers of daylight. The silence pressed against him, broken only by the rustling of unseen leaves. But it wasn't a natural sound. The leaves whispered his name, a sibilant current that swirled around him. The forest itself seemed to sense his purpose, the darkness coalescing into a thousand watchful eyes. Distant screeches echoed through the trees, morphing into chilling laughter that mocked his resolve. Yet, Draco pressed on, his steps resolute, his heart a drum echoing a single, primal beat – vengeance. Every rustle, every shadow became a potential threat, the forest a living entity testing his will with each step closer to Greyback and the inevitable confrontation.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For six days, Draco hadn't returned home. Hermione was a mess. She had called Theo, Blaise, and Pansy, but no one had any idea where he had gone. The only hint she got was from Theo, mentioning that he went for a hike?!?!

She was thankful they had the soul bond, because she knew at least he was alive.

She couldn't function at work and cried herself to sleep every night. 

For days, she had wrestled with her feelings, trying to understand why Draco Malfoy occupied her thoughts so completely. As she paced the room, anxiety gnawing at her, she found herself reflecting on the moments that had brought them together.

Rain lashed against the window panes, mimicking the storm raging inside her. For days, he had been missing, and the silence stretched into an agonizing eternity. The soul bond offered a sliver of comfort – a faint echo of his presence, but it was his emotional state that truly worried her. The usual cool indifference was replaced by a tremor of fear, a flicker of despair that sent shivers down her spine.

She clutched the worn book in her hand, a gift from him – a well-preserved copy of forgotten magical creatures. Memories flooded her – his hand gently brushing against hers as they researched, his determined gaze as he vowed to protect her, the warmth of his embrace when she'd succumbed to tears of worry. A bitter pang of betrayal sliced through her. How could she, Hermione Granger, the fiercest advocate for righteousness, be falling for a man stained by the shadows?

But even as the doubt gnawed at her, another truth surfaced, undeniable and bright. It wasn't just his bravery or his protectiveness. It was the way he made her feel – seen, understood, cherished in a way she never thought possible. 

The realization struck her with the force of a lightning bolt – she loved Draco Malfoy. Loved him for the man he was becoming, the man who fought his own demons to stand beside her.

As she thought about him, her heart ached with worry. The realization hit her like a wave crashing against the shore: she was in love with him. It wasn't just his looks or his charm, but the way he had stood by her, the way he had made her feel safe and cherished.

She couldn't imagine her life without him now, and the thought of losing him filled her with dread. She had to find him, had to bring him back, because Draco Malfoy wasn't just a part of her life anymore—he was her heart.

An empty space yawned open in her chest, a hollowness that mirrored the dread that coiled in her gut. She couldn't. He couldn't be gone. He wasn't just a pleasant addition to her life, a comforting presence; he was a vital part of her, as essential as air or reason.

Draco Malfoy, the arrogant boy from her Hogwarts years, had become her confidante, her protector, and now, with a jolt of horrifying clarity, she realized he was her heart. The very thought of losing him sent a fresh wave of panic crashing over her.

No. Denial wouldn't work this time. She had to find him. She had to bring him back. Because somewhere along the way, Draco Malfoy had woven himself into the fabric of her being, and she wouldn't, couldn't, let him be ripped away.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, waiting for a different outcome. 

Hermione was going insane by the minute.

 Pacing, aggressively petting Crookshanks, reading, pacing, aggressively petting Crookshanks, pacing, reading.

She mentally exhausted herself and went back to the bedroom, hoping that she'd wake up to the love of her life next to her.

As she lay down, thoughts of Draco consumed her. 

The soul bond pulsed faintly, a constant reminder that he was out there somewhere. she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. She thought of the way he would hold her, his touch soothing and reassuring. She missed the sound of his voice, the way he would whisper sweet nothings into her ear.

Sleep, a distant dream, refused to come. Each tick of the clock echoed in the silent room, a relentless reminder of the time ticking by, of Draco out there, alone, and of the terrifying possibility that he might not be coming back.

She woke up to someone leaving wet trails over her body. In the back of her mind, she knew what that smell was: blood. She tried to move, but someone pulled her closer.

"Dra... Draco?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear.

"Shhh, doll, I'm here," he murmured into her ear. "Don't worry, my love, it's not my blood."

"Whose is it, then?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Greyback's," he stated flatly.

"Did you...?" She trailed off, the implication clear in her voice.

"Yes, I did," he confirmed.

His hand trailed down to cup her mold, his touch gentle but possessive. she shivered, not from fear, but from the intensity of the moment. She turned in his arms, looking up at him with a mixture of relief and concern.

"Why did you do it, Draco?" she asked, her eyes searching for him.

"He hurt you," he replied, his voice dark and full of anger. "I couldn't let him live after what he did to you."

"I did it because I love you," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "And because no one will ever hurt you again as long as I'm alive."

His hand moved down into her knickers with torturous slowness.

"Ceci est mon offrande, ma pénitence pour toi, mon amour." That one, that sentence she understood: This is my offering, my penance to you, my love. 

She shivered at his words, feeling the intensity of his presence and the weight of his confession. His hand continued its slow, deliberate journey, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had been their reality for the past week.

"Draco," she whispered, her voice a mix of relief and confusion. "You didn't have to..."

"I did," he interrupted softly, his lips brushing against her ear. "For you. For us. No one will ever hurt you again."

He curled a finger inside her, immediately finding the sensitive spot.

She moaned into his ear. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, overwhelmed by the depth of his devotion. Despite everything, despite the darkness that surrounded them, she realized just how far he would go to protect her. And in that moment, she knew that their love, forged in pain and sacrifice, was unbreakable.

He moved his fingers with more purpose now, while his thumb drew circles on her clit. She arched into his touch, getting louder by the minute.

"I am going to fuck you now Hermione."- he said it with determination in his voice. She automatically opened her leg. He vanished their clothes in a swift motion. Getting between her legs, while putting one on his shoulders.

Please, Draco. Please, please." she pleads as she moves against his cock, begging him with her body. "I want you inside of me! Draco, please." Her nails dig into his back, once again, and she's pleading. More like begging. 

God's she was pathetic.

"Almost my love, almost." He tried to be gentle but his lion was so needy. With one push he was stretching her with his cock, and he slid it in until he felt that she was full of him.

Both of them moaned at the same time. She was so overwhelmed, and he was in heaven.

"Are you okay my love?" He gasps out and she nods quickly. 

"Please don't stop," she begs, her hands moving to touch his body.

"Fuck, your cunt is fucking heaven sent." Draco Malfoy somehow got into heaven.

"Sweet Merlin…God… Can you feel me in your stomach, darling? Fucking— Fucking want to devour you, doll. Filling you up so fucking good. You take me so fucking good, f-fuck! I can't believe….how tight you are, love." He needed a minute to get himself together.

"Draco, please move" she was whining under him. 

He did as he was told and rocked into her slowly, making sure that she didn't feel any discomfort. Judging by her face she was in the same place as he was. 

Heaven had a completely new meaning for them. The air around them shimmered with tiny golden sparkles, as if their souls were weaving together in an intricate dance of love and passion.

He picked up his pace and moved. He uses his free hand to move down to her clit, touching her tiny bud, and she drops her head back in a loud moan. Her body was on fire. Moving desperately against his body chasing his thumb .

"Come on my cock, I need it." He begs and coos, "I need to feel you come all over my cock." He growled into her neck.

Like a rubber band she snapped, and her cunt milked his cock greedily. Drawing his orgasms closer to the edge.

She was screaming while he fucked her in a brutal pace.

Then she felt something cool against her clit, she gasped when she quickly looked down, and he was touching her with his signet ring.

"I'm going to fuck a baby…. into you…my love. I'm going to make sure that… that my ancestors are rolling…in their graves. I'm going to fuck you every…day until…your belly…is swollen with my heir." He grunted and spilled inside her with a force that caused her to have a second orgasm.

Well…that was a new level of obsession and possession.

He held her close, their heartbeats merging in a fragile dance. She kissed him with a slow, passionate tenderness that seemed to defy the chaos around them. She was his angel, and he, in that moment, felt the weight of his sins. 

He was the devil and they walked side by side.

Early morning, when he knocked on her door. Hello, Satan. He does remember she said it to him. And he was definitely Satan today.

She and the devil, walking side by side. He did it for Hermione. He'll walk through hell if it means protecting her.

People don't understand, it's that old evil spirit deep down that drives him. Until he gets satisfied, he'll do what he must to protect her. 

"I'm not sorry for what I did to Greyback," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "because I did it for you. I've loved you for longer than you can fathom, and the thought of someone hurting you... I couldn't bear it.".

Hermione, darling," he placed her head against his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

 "I would recognize you in total darkness, where you were mute and I deaf. I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. And I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burned out into oblivion."

"I am madly in love with you," he stated softly, his voice filled with sincerity and passion.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love."- she whispered into his ear.

Through their favorite poems woven with emotion, they unveiled the depths of their hearts to one another. Huge swots. Both of them.

Her heart raced as she looked deeply into his eyes, her voice barely a whisper yet resonating with unwavering emotion. "Draco, I love you," she confessed softly, her words carrying the weight of years of hidden feelings. 

His breath caught in his throat as he heard those words, his own heart surging with an overwhelming mix of relief and joy. He reached out to gently cup her face in his hands, his touch tender yet firm, as if to reassure himself that she was really there, really saying these words to him.

"Hermione," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I've loved you from the moment you punched me in the face in third year, from the time when everything was so different. You're my light, my everything."

They laid there for a moment, the world around them fading away as they savored the sweetness of their confession. In that moment, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, bound by a love and darkness that had weathered trials and emerged stronger than ever.