A Change of Heart

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Chapter 17 - The Suite

The next two days Hermione felt as if she was more of a casual observer in her own life, instead of a willing participant. She had many last minutes details to see about the gala, more than she thought she would, she had yet to get her dress, and it was already Tuesday. The gala was on Saturday.

It didn’t help matters that Draco had been in St. Mungo's since last Saturday. She wanted his help to pick out a gown. She went shopping with Ginny on Monday evening, but didn’t feel inclined to buy anything. Nothing seemed right. She wanted to look perfect. It was a special night, in more ways than one. She didn’t feel motivated to buy anything without Draco.

As soon as Hermione went into the office that morning, she received an urgent Owl from the manager of the hotel where they were to hold the ‘Spring Fling’. It said that she must meet him there promptly at noon, because there was a problem, but that he would explain everything to her when he saw her. Evasive little bugger. If she had been told what the problem was, perhaps she could send one of her assistants. At a quarter till noon, Hermione couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer and she Apparated to the hotel.

She went up to the front desk, and told them she had a meeting with the manager, Jeff. While she waited, she looked around the lobby. She sat down in one of the comfy armchairs, which seemed so inviting, and closed her eyes for only a second. Before she knew it, someone was shaking her arm. “Miss Granger?”

Hermione woke up with a start. She looked at the big clock over the fireplace. Goodness! She'd been sleeping for ten minutes! She looked at the person shaking her arm and saw Jeff. Standing, she apologized, “I’m so sorry. I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep lately. Why was it that you needed to see me?”

“Come with me, and I'll show you,” he stated.

He offered his arm, which she placed her hand on gingerly, and they walked toward the grand ballroom. He opened the double doors, and Hermione could barely contain her delight. The place was decorated for the gala. It was more beautiful than she had imagined. There were so many flowers that the place looked like a botanical garden. There was a fountain in the middle of the room, which had coloured water spraying from all the jets. There were balloons of all colours floating around the ceiling, with the help of magic, no doubt. Thousands of fairy lights floated across the ceiling. Along the back wall was a decorated table, where the items to be raffled off would be placed. The bandstand area was equally impressive. On the other side of the room was the photo booth, and different carnival type booths and games.

There was a large table along the side for the food buffet and smaller, round tables, decorated with bright spring colours, yellow, green, fuchsia, and bright blue, for the guests to sit. On the patio were all sorts of games and little attractions. Everything looked great.

What’s the problem? She heard a voice behind her say, “Do you like what you see?” She spun around, with a smile on her face, and there was Draco, in all his glory, beaming back at her. She rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Careful, Granger, I just got out of hospital two hours ago.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Oh, I have a surprise for you, and it’s not here in the ballroom. I asked the manager to call you. I hope I didn’t cause you too much distress. I know how you can worry,” he relayed. “He already showed me the ballroom. It looks great. This is going to be an incredible success. Perhaps the best spring gala we’ve ever had, and it’s all thanks to you.” He hugged her tightly, so proud of her. She planned this whole thing from the get go, and it was bound to bring in a lot of money.

He took her hand, led her out of the ballroom, and started toward the lifts. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Well, when someone tells someone else they have a surprise for them, usually that means it’s a surprise. So, wait for it, Hermione,” he stated with a laugh.

He escorted her to the lifts, and they entered together. “Where did you say we were going again?” she asked.

“I didn’t. Do you think I’m an idiot? You just asked me that five seconds ago, and I didn’t tell you then, so why would I tell you now?”

He pushed the button in the lift that would take them to the top floor. They got out of the elevator and he led her to a set of double doors. He opened the doors and he escorted her into the hotel suite, which seemed to take up the entire top floor of the hotel. It had a panoramic view, overlooking the ocean. It had a large living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. There were two bedrooms, with two large private baths. She went out to the private balcony, which seemed to be suspended in mid air.

She took a deep breath, breathing in the clean, fresh, salt air of the sea. She came back inside, and he was sitting on one of the couches, with his arms spread out on the back, and his feet up on the coffee table in front.

“Whose suite is this?” Hermione asked him, as she sat down on the coffee table, directly opposite him.

“Ours,” he said plain as day. “I reserved it last time we were here. I thought it'd be a nice surprise. You can get ready for the gala up here, and we can spend our night of passion here as well, after our first official date that is.” He leaned forward on the couch as he spoke, and without warning, Hermione jumped from the coffee table and leaped into his arms.

“Careful, Granger, I just got out of hospital!” he cried, hugging her back. She sat beside him and squeezed his hands.

“This is so sweet!” she revealed.

“Wait a minute, Granger,” he said, pushing her away from him in mocked annoyance, “I’m a lot of things, but sweet is not one of them. I have a reputation to uphold, and I have completely ulterior motives.”

“Yes, sex, sex, sex,” she stood up and sang. “It’s still sweet of you, but alas, I shalln't tell a soul, so your reputation as a bastard is intact. To everyone else, you can still be the cold-blooded snake that they’ve all come to hate.”

“Hiss, hiss,” he said, as he stood and kissed her neck.

She reached around him and squeezed his bum playfully.

“Granger, don’t be so presumptuous. You must wait for the night of the gala. As you promised, we’ll have sex after our first official date, which is fast approaching. In fact, it's 102 hours away. Gee, when I put it like that, I’m not sure even I can wait that long.” He took her hand and started to lead her to one of the bedrooms, but she put up a good fight.

“You can wait!” she debated, removing herself from his clutches.

Draco said, “I want you to know, this is the longest I’ve ever gone without sex. We haven’t had sex since that night at my house. In fact, this is the least amount of sex at the longest interval, I’ve ever experienced in my entire adult life. The auction was six weeks ago, and since that time, I’ve had sex only with you, and only twice. I’m afraid I might forget how. My poor penis is wilting in shame.”

She laughed out loud and said, “Well, tell the little guy it won’t be long, and, we’ve had sex three times.”

“Granger,” Draco explained, “for the record, and as you can already attest, my penis is not ‘a little guy’ so show him some respect. Also, we’ve had sex twice, for I recall each incident with incredible accuracy. We had sex right here in this hotel first, and then we had sex at my house the night of Weasley’s birthday party.” He came up and nuzzled her neck.

“What about at my house? In the shower; we had sex then,” she asked, really believing in what she was saying.

“I was left unfulfilled and injured, so I don’t count that incident, and I’ll kindly ask you to refrain from mentioning it again, as it brings up terrible flashbacks. I’ve had night terrors since the damn thing, and I may in fact have to take baths instead of showers from now on,” he joked.

“Harry said he’ll have nightmares about it as well,” Hermione joked back.

Draco frowned and said, “How does Potter know about what I am now classifying as the most embarrassing moment in Draco Malfoy’s history?”

She just shrugged and then she kissed his mouth. She kissed him with love and passion. She pulled back and looked in his eyes, which were bright and promising. He leaned closer to her, and they kissed again. Their tongues mingled and met, and their hands became reacquainted. He put his hand on the small of her back, and lifted her blouse, so it rested on bare skin. He put his bottom two fingers under the waistband of her skirt. She pulled at his shirt, pulled it out of his trousers, and put both her hands on his stomach. She reached lower and stroked him through his pants. He grimaced, but in a good way.

He brought his hands up and had started to unbutton her blouse, when there was a knock on the door of the suite.

“Damn it all to bloody hell!” Draco gasped.

Hermione smiled, straightened her shirt, and went and answered the door. It was Jeff, the hotel manager.

“Hello, Hermione, Mr. Malfoy,” Jeff said as he entered, “I hope you like your suite.”
“Oh, very much,” Hermione revealed.

“I hope the ballroom was up to your expectations as well. My staff and I are looking forward to the gala,” Jeff said.

“Yes, everything looked wonderful,” she confirmed. “My staff and I look forward to working with you as well. Really, Jeff, everything looks wonderful.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two, and I’ll see you Friday.” He turned around and left.

Draco walked up and slammed the door shut. “Did the bastard just come up to stop me from making love to you or what? That was a completely pointless visit!”

“Not completely,” Hermione turned to Draco. “I found it enlightening. Why did he say he would see me Friday? The gala isn’t until Saturday.”

“Well, I thought you might want to come Friday night, relax, then get up early and take care of all the last minute little details that don’t need taken care of, but which I’m sure you’ll worry yourself to death over, and then Saturday night we’ll come up here after the gala, make love until we’re crippled and blind, spend the night, and leave Sunday.”

“You reserved this suite for three days?” Hermione questioned.

“Well, no,” he said, “I reserved it until Monday, just in case we need to stay an extra day. After all, we might not be able to leave on Sunday. We might still be recovering.”

“Recovering?” she inquired.

“Yes, I fully intend to make you question your ability to walk straight after the night of mad, passionate, glorious sex we’re going to have. I’m not even sure you’ll have the stamina to keep up with me,” he gloated.

“Oh, just wait and see, Malfoy, wait and see. After all, I’m not the one who broke their hip and pelvis,” she said, pointing at him. “But you do realize you’re building yourself up quite a bit. I hope you live up to your reputation,” Hermione added.

He walked over to her and grabbed her hips. “Do you want a preview?” he leered.

“Maybe, just to know what I should expect,” she prompted.

“You’re such a tart,” he teased, pulling her closer.

“I told you, no one says words like ‘tart’ anymore,” she said, pushing away from him. He tried to grab her arm, but she made her escape.

“How much do you trust me, Hermione?” he said, sweetly.

“In what aspect?” she asked.

“Trust is trust. You either trust me, or you don’t,” he stated, walking around the couch to be near her. She walked to the other side of the couch.

“If the trust is the type where I would trust you with my life, I would say I trust you a lot. If the trust is where I would have to trust you to behave your little horny self, and on matters of the flesh, I would say I don’t trust you at all. Trust is a fine line. There are shades of grey in everything,” she concluded. They continued slowly circling the couch, like a predator and his prey.

“Where are you going, Hermione, my love?” he said with a smirk.

“Where are you going, Draco, my sweet?” she asked.

“I’m coming after you,” he answered, seductively.

“And I’m running away from you,” she said with a smile on her face.

They continued slowly walking around the couch. He removed his tie and started to unbutton his shirt.

“Are you warm, sweetheart?” Hermione asked with false affection.

“No, just becoming more comfortable, my precious love,” he said, with a warning.

They both stopped at the same time. They were standing at opposite ends of the couch. “You know, Granger,” he said, “I decided that night at the auction that you would be mine, and mine you are. There’s no use trying to get away from me now. I'll never let you go.” He suddenly seemed quite serious.

“You know, Malfoy,” she mirrored him, “Maybe I decided that night that I wanted you as well, and like you, I always get what I want.”

She was driving him slowly insane. “What do you want?” he asked, with his usual smirk, while still circling the couch. He had yet to remove his eyes from hers.

“I want what you want,” she promised, with her own smirk.

“I think you’re all talk,” he jeered.

“You have no idea,” she preened.

“I’ve had enough of this foreplay, come here right now, so I can show you how much I want you.” Draco stopped moving. So did Hermione.

“You can’t tell me what to do. I do what I please, when I please, and you should know that by now.” She suddenly seemed serious as well.

“Hermione, don’t make me say it again. I want you to come here,” he demanded, smiling again, to lighten the mood, for the mood had suddenly grown dark indeed. It could be the unresolved passion in the room, or it could be something more sinister. It could be that they were both truly caught up in the moment of the chase.

“I don’t think I will. I think you should come to me,” she decided. Everything was a battle between the two.

“Come here,” he commanded again.

“I told you before; nothing good comes when you ask that of me,” she reiterated. She started to circle the couch again. He suddenly climbed over the couch, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her over the couch. She let out a yelp of surprise. He pinned her to the couch, with her underneath his body. He kissed her neck, put his hand up to her blouse, and started to unbutton the buttons.

“Saturday won’t be as special if we have sex here on this couch,” she complained.

“Are you frigid or something?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Of course not!” She crawled out from under him, and sat on the end of the couch, frowning. He sat up beside her.

She seemed angry at that comment. He put his right index finger on her leg, and drew little circles on her knee. She pushed his hand away.

He took the same index finger and started to push her skirt up. She pushed it away again.

He took his whole hand, put it on her left knee, and held on tight. She tried to remove it, with both hands, but couldn’t. She turned and looked at him, and he was smiling. Prat.

He turned slightly, and took his other hand, while leaving the first on her knee, and put it on her right breast. He playfully dragged his fingers back and forth, with a feathery touch, across her taut breast. He could feel her nipple becoming erect underneath the material of her bra and blouse. His first hand was now hiking her skirt up, and it was very close to her heat. She was biting her bottom lip. She closed her eyes, and opened her legs slightly. He turned so he was almost facing her, and she moved so she was more accommodating.

He had unbuttoned four buttons of her shirt, and had his first hand completely under the blouse, cupping her right breast. His thumb was massaging her nipple. He pushed aside the material, put his head down, and kissed the tip. His other hand was completely under her skirt, and was pressed hard up against her wet cotton knickers. He wasn’t moving that hand. It was just there. She did that little hum that he liked. She was killing him again. He leaned forward, to kiss her lips, which were red and swollen. Just then, there was another knock on the damn door.

“AARRGG!” Draco actually screamed. He sat away from Hermione, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “GO THE FUCK AWAY!”

Hermione scrambled to her feet, and ran to the bathroom. She thought she might need a minute to herself.

He adjusted his trousers slightly, (to hide his growing erection) and answered the door. He let the offensive person in the suite. He had forgotten she was coming. He went through the bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hermione, may I come in?” he asked.

She opened the door. “Who was at the door?” She seemed as agitated at the interruption as he was.

He walked in the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and said, “It’s someone who can wait a moment.”

He pulled her up against him, and started kissing her. He ripped her blouse down the front, and bent his head to kiss her breasts. He pulled her bra down, got down on his knees in front of her, and lavished long licks up and down both breasts, and her stomach. He grabbed her waist, unzipped her skirt from the side zipper, and pulled it down. She didn’t wear any stockings, for which he was happy. He pulled down her knickers in one swift movement, so that she was standing there, up against the vanity, totally nude except for her shoes. He put his face between her legs, and she cried out. She was sure whoever was in the living room must have heard.

He used his tongue and lips to bring her to a full orgasm. She could barely stand. She was breathing short little breaths, almost as if she was hyperventilating. He continued his ministration, until she started shaking. The shaking started at her core, and continued to her stomach, and up to every fiber of her body. He stood up quickly, unzipped his trousers, and still fully clothed, he lifted her up and lowered her onto his member. This time there was no water and no slippery tiles. He could hold her up just fine.

With a determined look on his face, he came at the same time she did. When they were through, he placed her on the sink vanity, and almost collapsed against her. He held her for a moment, and then said, “Now we can say we’ve made love three times.”

They kissed long and hard. He could go at it again, but remembered the person waiting for them in the other room. "I forgot the person at the door."

Hermione pushed him away, looked at her discarded clothing, and said, “Look what you did to my shirt. How can I get dressed?”

“It won’t matter. Just put on your bra and knickers,” he said.

“I can’t go around parading in just my underwear!” she said as she tried to find her undergarments.

“Again, I have to ask, do you trust me?” he asked, taking his wand, cleaning them both up, and then zipping his trousers.

“NO! After that episode, I don’t trust you at all,” she hissed quietly.

“Listen,” he said, as she was putting on her skirt, “like I said earlier, trust is trust. If you trust me with your life, as you claim, you need to trust me on everything. Did you buy yourself a gown for the gala yet?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked him.

“It’s really just a yes or no type of question, Granger,” he said aggravated.

“No,” she said with spite.

“I thought not,” he gloated. “Out in the other room is a lady from the boutique right here at the hotel. She brought different gowns for you to try on, and if you'd like, I’ll even help you pick one, although I'd rather it be a surprise.”

Suddenly, her frown melted away, and she ran up to him, wrapped her arms around him, and kissing his cheek, exclaimed, “Bless you, bless you, bless you! That would be so wonderful.”

“Well, I figured you couldn’t be TRUSTED,” he emphasized that word, “to buy your own gown, and also I know your taste is somewhat dubious, and your finances somewhat limited, so I thought I'd take care of everything, as usual. She also brought a selection of shoes, handbags, lingerie, and even jewelry.”

“Wonderful!” she said again, feeling really happy and relieved.

“Shall I send her in?” he asked. Hermione nodded her head yes. He told her to pick out her gown, while he went down to the boutique to pick out another blouse for her, then he'd return later. “I don’t want to see the gown you pick out until the night of the Spring Fling. That’ll be more special, don’t you think?”

“Draco Malfoy, I don't care if I'm allowed to say this or not, for a cold hearted snake, you really are a very sweet man,” Hermione said, kissing him again, “and I love you very much.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said. She said that to him once, and he had been waiting to say the line back to her. She laughed. He let the woman with the dresses into the bedroom, and he went to the lifts and walked downstairs.

He lied a little bit to Granger, just then. He told her that the woman from the boutique had brought her everything from shoes to jewelry. That was a slight fabrication. She had brought some jewelry: necklaces, earrings, and the like, but Draco Malfoy had another piece of jewelry that he himself would present to Hermione on the night of the gala.

He smiled just thinking about it. He was going to ask her to marry him, and if she said ‘no’ he just might hex her arse all the way into next week. He had one other big surprise for her that night as well, maybe even bigger than the first. Yes, little Miss Granger wouldn’t know what hit her.

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