Through the Chimney

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Part XI –

He didn’t dare dream his Christmas wish would come true, but it did. He was here, with Granger, and she was standing before him in nothing but a long, flannel nightgown. She dropped the fireplace poker, thank goodness, and then she merely stared at him in shock.

Then to his abject horror (and delight) she took his hand and walked him over to the large bed in the room. The gesture made his mouth water and his nerves tingle. Her back was to him as she pulled down the covers. It gave him a pleasant view of her rounded backside.

“Ah, Granger, are you going to bed?” He felt like such a dolt for asking, but he had to know her intentions. “I mean, don’t you have questions? Aren’t you going to ream a peel over my head for busting into your room like I did?”

She turned to him, then reached down for the hem of her gown and pulled it straight over her head. “Don’t be daft, Draco. You’re the one who came through my chimney. What did you think would happen? If you want milk and biscuits, they’re over by the fireplace. If you want me, I’ll be in the bed.”

His jaw dropped to the floor.

He would never forget that Christmas Eve. It was the best one of his life. She was so warm against his hands, her body soft against his. She tasted so sweet, and she felt like happiness in his arms.

From the moment he touched her he knew that she would belong to him for the rest of his life. Everything would be his: from her creamy-white skin to the freckle on the back of her knee. The hair he inhaled when he was on top of her was his. The smooth expanse of skin from her shoulder to her neck was his from this moment onwards. The soft swell of the underside of her breast was his. The way she sighed when they became one and the way she said his name right before she drifted off to sleep in his arms - all of it was his from this point on until forever!

Her child would be his child, her life would be his, her troubles and strives and happiness and sorrows – all his. 

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