A Change of Heart

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Chapter 22 - The Beach -

The sun came blazing brightly into Hermione’s window that morning. She could hear Draco moving around downstairs. What time was it? Why was Draco at her house? The morning was just too bright and sunny, in her opinion. She wasn’t sure it had a right to be so cheery. It was unseasonably warm, too. In fact, it was almost the perfect day. She heard Draco calling her name. Seriously, what was he doing here? He stayed the night Wednesday night, just cuddling again, and he was here when she got off work on Thursday, but she knew he went home last night.

“Hermione, its 10:30, get your arse out of bed!” Draco yelled from down the stairs. 10:30!! Hermione had to be at the hotel at noon. She jumped out of bed, and ran to get her shower. She never intended to sleep this late. Thank goodness she packed last night.

After her shower, she ran back into her bedroom, (in only a towel) and Draco was making her bed. How very odd. He sat on her freshly made bed and handed her a coffee and a scone. She sat next to him, (in only a towel) and ate her breakfast. He walked past her and left the room. She smiled. Maybe it really was the perfect day. Silence was no longer awkward between them. It was comfortable. It was like they didn’t need to talk, because they knew what the other was thinking.

She started to dress, and at that precise moment Draco came back into her room. She threw her towel over herself in a feeble attempt to cover her body. She was not as comfortable with him as she thought. He laughed at her, grabbed the towel, threw it on the floor, and then came up to her nude body, hugged her tight, touched her in a few inappropriate places, and then said, “You’re so funny, Granger. I’ve seen you naked, and I plan on seeing you naked a lot more, especially this weekend, now hurry up, we need to hit the road.” He threw her knickers and bra to her and started to leave the room.

As she was putting on her underwear, she said, “What do you mean by ‘hit the road’? Aren’t we Apparating?”

“No, I thought we’d drive. Get your new car out on the open road. We had such a nice trip the last time; I thought we could have a repeat performance,” he said as he leaned against her doorframe, admiring her body as she dressed.

“Are you going to go jack off in the woods again?” she joked, buttoning her blouse.

“No need, no need, that’s what I have you are for, apple dumpling,” he said as he approached her.

“Draco Malfoy, that’s a horrible thing to say,” she scolded him.

“Fine, I won’t call you apple dumpling ever again,” he said with a fake yawn.

“I meant saying that I was just for sex!” she yelped.

“What I meant, now that we have sex, if that’s what you call what we do, I no longer need to jack off. I can just piddle around with you instead.” He laughed as he said that.

“Piddle around, I swear, you’re an idiot. I know I say it a lot, and usually I don’t really mean it, but at this very moment, I mean this, and I say it with the utmost love, but you, Draco Malfoy, are an idiot.” She pointed at him. He rushed up to her, grabbed her around the waist, swung her twice, and threw her on her bed. He jumped on her and put a pillow over her head.

“Apologize now, Granger, or I shall suffocate you,” he threatened. He kept the pillow over her head. She refused to act juvenile, so she remained calm. He thought maybe she had suffocated, since she wasn’t moving. He removed the pillow and pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her pulse point and said, “Please apologize. Just because I’m devilishly handsome, doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.” He kissed the other side of her neck.

“I’m sorry, now let me go, you idiot,” she said. He let her go, and she fell backwards on the bed, because he had her in such a tight embrace.

“Are you drunk already this morning, tsk, tsk, how embarrassing for you, Granger,” he said, as he offered her his hand to help her up. She hit it away and stood on her on accord.

“If we’re driving, we have to leave now,” she said. “Get my bag.”

“Just because I made your bed, doesn’t mean I’m your bloody house elf. Get your own bag, and while you’re at it, mine is in the living room. Get it as well,” he demanded and he walked down the stairs. She grabbed her bag, but when she passed his, she gave it a swift kick. He was standing there watching her and he snickered, and took her bag from her, and went and got his.

They went out to her garage, and he loaded the bags in the boot end. Hermione started to get in the driver’s side, but Malfoy said, “No, I’m driving. You get in the other door.”

She looked at him incredulously, got in the car, and said, “You’re so strange sometimes, Malfoy. You don’t even know how to drive.”

“You gave me a lesson. I’m sure I’ll do fine,” he said, pulling her from the driver’s seat.

“One lesson does not a driver make. You don’t even have a license, and if you recall, your driving lesson went horribly wrong. It ended with me in tears and you angry. You didn’t even know which pedal was the brake! You didn’t even know how to put the key in the ignition!” she spouted.

“Pish, posh, those things aren’t important.” He pulled her entirely out of the car by this time.

He sat in the driver’s side and ordered, “Get in the car.”

“Malfoy, you’re not driving this car!” she yelled.

“I bought the damn thing, so I’ll drive it if I want!” He was serious.

“You bought my gown for the gala as well; does that mean you’ll wear it if you feel like it?” she reasoned.

“If it won’t make me look fat, maybe so,” he countered. “Now, get it the bloody car, or I’ll throw you in the boot.” He looked like he meant it.

She leaned against her old car, her arms folded. There was no way she was getting in the car with him.

“Get in!”



“You don’t know how to drive!”

“I’ve been practicing!”

“Malfoy, get out of my car, and we’ll Apparate!”

“Hermione, get the stick out of your arse, and get in the car!”


“So help me, if I have to get out of this car, you will be sorry!” he yelled at her.

“Who are you now, my father?” she mumbled under her breath. He heard her, however. He got out of the car, and pulled her toward the boot. He pulled out his wand, removed their luggage, picked her up completely, and threw her in the boot! Then he slammed it shut! He put their luggage on the backseat, started the car and had begun to leave the garage, when he saw a very angry looking Hermione standing in front of the car. She had her wand pointed right at him.

He got out of the car, cursed himself for not realizing that she could Apparate out of the boot, put his hands up in defense, and said, “Before you curse me Hermione, I have a confession to make.”

“Make it quick, because my wand is itching to curse your arse into oblivion,” she said with surprising calm.

“First, I would have let you out of the boot before I got to the end of your drive; Also, I lied to you when I said I couldn’t drive. I’ve been able to drive for years. I just thought it would be fun that first day, when we went to the hotel, for you to drive us, because you seemed so excited. And then, I had to keep up the charade, when you wanted to give me a lesson. I had to be such a bad driver that day, so you wouldn’t want to give me another lesson. I’m sorry. Hex me now.” He ducked his head and shut his eyes.

“I might have found that story sort of sweet if you hadn’t tried to put me in the boot of a car!” she seethed.

He opened his eyes. “I didn’t just try to put you in the boot, I actually did put you in the boot end, and I told you, I would've let you out eventually,” he reasoned.

“Get back in the car you arse-hole. You can drive, but I seriously think I’m angry with you,” she said.

“You think you’re angry? You don’t know?” he asked as he got back in the car.

“No, I know. I’m angry. Shut up and drive.” She folded her arms in front of her.

“Put on your seatbelt,” he said.

She glared at him, but then did as he asked, and they started the road trip from hell.

They drove for over half an hour, when Draco finally asked, “Are you still angry?” She had her head turned, looking out the window.

“Hermione?” he asked again.

She was ignoring him. He said, “Give me your hand.”

“I don’t want my hand slobbered on, thank you,” she said, without looking at him.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, I just want to hold your hand, not snog it,” he said, and he reached over and took her hand. She let him have it, but didn’t hold his in return. Her hand felt like a dead fish in his. He finally dropped her hand and sighed.

“Stop being so moody!” he whined.

“Stop being such a prat,” Hermione said back.

“Fine, I will if you will,” he said.



Hermione said, “It was rather mean to make me cry that day I tried to teach you to drive, especially since you already knew how to drive.”

“Being mean is one of my charms,” he said with a laugh.

“I don’t think you’re so charming,” she sulked.

“You mean to say that I’m not the Prince Charming to your Cinderella?” he asked, looking a bit hurt.

Hermione said, “You’re more like the wicked stepmother.”

“You’re more like the ugly stepsisters,” he said to be mean.

“You think I’m ugly?” she asked with ire.

“You think I’m wicked, so maybe I do,” he said with a bite.

“You are wicked,” she argued.

“Then you are ugly,” he said back. Damn, this was becoming a real fight, and Draco didn’t want that. Why couldn’t he just shut up? Why couldn’t she just shut up?

There was an extended silence, which was not comfortable like the silence they shared this morning over coffee and scones. This silence was deadly.

Draco finally said sarcastically, “See, I knew we would enjoy this little drive to the hotel. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed your company more, and the conversation is absolutely riveting.” He turned to see if she would take the bite he offered, and bite back. Instead, she continued to stare out the side window. Now he felt like a cad. Damn her.

He pulled the car over, and said softly, “Hermione, please give me your hand.”

She did, which surprised him. He thought he would have to beg and plead. She still had her head turned toward the window, however. He held her hand, and turned it over. He took the fingertips from his other hand and traced the lines on her palm. He put the palm up to his mouth, and gave her hand a kiss. He put the hand back on the seat, but kept it encased in his hand. He started the car again, and started driving the rest of the way to the hotel, holding her hand the whole way.

Finally he said, “I am an idiot. You’re beautiful. You’re not ugly at all, but frankly Hermione, you’re smart enough to know that, and not take everything I say to heart.”

She looked at him, gave his hand a squeeze, and said, “You’re not always wicked. I’m sorry, too.”

After fifteen more minutes of relaxing silence, Draco asked Hermione, “So tell me, Granger, what are you most looking forward to about this weekend?”

“The end,” she said with a small smile.

“Really?” He was a little surprised. He thought she might say the night he had planned for them.

“Honestly,” she said and then sighed.

She leaned her head against the headrest and turned to look at him. He unclasped her hand for a moment, to stroke her face. He put his hand on her shoulder, then drew it down her arm, and then took her hand again. He couldn’t completely read her expression, but he almost thought he saw sorrow, mixed with fear. That must be wrong. He momentarily let go of her hand, to use both hands to turn on the final road to the hotel, and as soon as they turned she reached for his hand again. She needed someone to hold on to right now. He knew that was what it was. He understood. He would let her hold on to him, until the day he died.

They arrived at the hotel a little after 12:00 pm. She said, “Will you check us in, and take in our luggage. I want to take a little walk on the beach before the whole thing starts, you know?”

“Tell you what, you stay here and wait for me. I’ll check us in, have them take our luggage upstairs, and I’ll join you for the walk, okay?” he said, kissing her cheek. She sat down on a wrought iron bench that was under the portico as her answer. She would wait for him. She would wait for him until the day she died.

Roughly ten minutes later, he returned, grabbed her hand, and led her down the now familiar traverse that they had previously walked down the last time they walked down to the beach at this hotel. He was pointing things out to her like, “There’s the spot where I first hit you with the grapes,” and “There’s where you broke my nose. I wonder if my blood is still on the ground.” She laughed each time he would point something inane out to her.

“You're the strangest tour guide I’ve ever had,” she said with a laugh.

“Well, you did sign up for the full service tour. That means when we get down to the beach, I’m going to shag you so hard, that you’ll be removing sand from all your crevices for years to come,” he gleamed.

“Gross,” she said.

“Yeah, didn’t come out as romantic as I thought it would,” he conceded.

Hermione pointed to a tree and said, “Look Malfoy, there’s a tree that I'm going to hide behind, and then break your nose again.”

He laughed and said, “That was a lucky throw that was. Your aim is nowhere near that good. You couldn’t hit my nose again if you tried.”

“Who said I would throw an apple this time. There are plenty of boulders around here,” she said, looking around.

“I’d like to see you try,” he said.

“Oh, don’t tempt me, Malfoy,” she joked.

They finally reached the sea, and both of them took off their shoes, and left them by the path. The seawater was very cold as it lapped around their ankles. “It’s so cold!” she cried. She squealed when a large wave came up and splashed her skirt as well as her legs. He lifted her up and carried her over to a rocky inland. He sat her on a large rock, and sat down beside her.

They were sitting side by side on the smooth rock, and Draco said, “This is how it should be. This is how I want it always to be. We should always be this happy and content. We deserve as much.” He turned to look at her, and saw the love in her eyes, and he grew warm knowing that her love was for him.

“You know, Draco, this is the real world. This isn’t really a fairytale. There’s not always a happy ending,” Hermione said. “Look at my mum and dad, they were in love, and they were happy, and it ended too soon for them.”

Draco turned to her and spoke, “Hermione, you can’t live your life pushing away happiness because it might not last. Be happy in the moment. Be happy with what you have. Just be happy, dammit.” He didn’t say it maliciously. He just said it.

“I want to be happy,” she said looking down at her knees.

He pushed the hair out of her eyes, and placed his hand under her chin, “Well, we can try to be happy, and that’s all we can do.” 

Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. She turned toward him, and kissed his mouth. He held her as tight as he could. They kissed as if it was their first kiss, and for Hermione, the electricity and the passion she felt almost made it seem like it was the first time again. He parted from her and asked, “Have you ever made love outdoors?”

She pushed him, and he fell off the rock. He grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of him and said, “My goodness, you’re impatient.”

“I’m not having sex on the sand. What about our crevices?” She laughed while peering down at him from her place on top of his body. “Anyway, someone might see.”

“The rocks will hide us from their view,” he said kissing her neck.

She giggled. It was a very tempting offer, actually very exhilarating. But once again, Hermione Granger let her head overrule her heart and she stood up and took his hand, trying to force him to stand. “I don’t think so, perhaps another time.”

He stood up only to lift her up. He carried her behind a larger rock formation, and told her, “Time for adventure, Granger!” He set her down on the ground, and lay on top of her. His hands traveled the length of her body. He put both hands up in her hair and kissed her long and softly. He then pulled away and said, “I really am going to make love to you here on the beach.” It was a declaration of fact, and he wanted her to know.

He dipped his head and kissed her again. She trembled slightly underneath him. He took his wand, took off his shirt, transfigured in into a blanket, and put it on the ground. He climbed on the ‘blanket’ and took her hand, and pulled her over to him. He nuzzled her neck, and she shivered again. This time he knew she wasn’t cold. He knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He played with the skin on her neck and chest, almost like he was fascinated by it, like it was new to him. He slipped her shirt off her shoulders, and unbuttoned her skirt, then removed it. He removed his trousers. She smelled so sweet and fresh. He took a big sniff. She probably thought he was daft. She skimmed her hands over his bare flesh. He moved to his back, and she was on top now. She was the aggressor, kissing and licking him. He ran one long finger down the strap of her bra on her left shoulder, took his other hand, and undid the clasp in the back.

“Release the hounds!” he said in jest as her bra fell off, and she covered her mouth to contain her laughter.

He lifted his head, and with his mouth and hand he started to suck and lick and toy with her breasts, first one, and then the other. He wanted her on the bottom again, to have better control, so he rolled over her, so he had her where he wanted her.

She moaned from the ache of wanting him. He drank in that sound, and knew it would undo him. All she could think was that she wanted him to fill her up, fill her whole; mind, body and soul. As he cupped her breast in his mouth, and put his lips to her nipples, and let out a moan that joined her moan in a perfect melodic symphony.

She was moving underneath him, so he reached down and stroked her heat with his hand, on the outside of her knickers. He would never ever grow old of this, until his dying day. The way her nipple rolled in his mouth, the feel of her wet heat underneath his hand. He wanted more, much, much more.

He continued to stroke her and massage her with his hand and thumb. He reached down and removed her knickers. He looked up at her suddenly and their gaze met and held for a moment. They said they loved each other without words. He ran a long finger down her hipbone, across her stomach, and to her cleft. He inserted one finger, and she cried out. “So soft,” he said, as his mouth left her neck to taste her lips again.

With his finger deep inside, she was close to coming, just from that. She was getting weak from his touch. He bent low between her legs, and twirled his tongue to the place his hand had been. She gasped in pleasure and pain, as he flicked his tongue back and forth. She started calling his name. He continued his torment, even while she actually begged him to end her suffering, and enter her body with his. He tormented her until she screamed. Her orgasm was as strong of one as she had ever had.

Suddenly, without warning, and shocking Draco so much that he at first questioned who she was; Hermione shoved him away from her, and pushed him on his back. He was shocked as well when her hands went down to explore him. Warm hands gliding over his hardness, he arched his back as pleasure overwhelmed him. He looked down at her, and stroked her hair, as she took him full into her mouth. He never had it like this before. This was totally different. He knew he was seriously going to die any moment now. She sucked, and kissed, and licked and when he was at his edge, she stopped and sat down on him, and filled her body with his. He lifted his hips slightly, to get even closer. Draco cried out. He didn’t even remember if he cried out anything coherent. He just cried out.

He didn’t want the end to come, but it was coming so soon. He held her hips, moving her slightly up and down. They were closer at that moment, physically and literally, than they had ever been. Both of them reached their climax at precisely the same moment, and that moment was sheer bliss, pure heaven. She screamed at the exact moment that he did. She screamed his name, and he screamed hers, as every emotion they had ever felt left their bodies in spasms.

She fell down on top of him. She couldn’t move if she wanted to. He put his arms around her. He put his hands on her back. Her skin was warm, and she had a fine sheen of perspiration. He turned to his side, so that they were facing each other.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah,” she answered.

They stayed in each other’s arms, until she said, “We should get back. Hell, we at least should get dressed.” The sat up and got dressed. He transfigured his shirt back into a shirt. She started to walk around the rock formation, and he grabbed her hand.

“I thought we were supposed to cuddle after sex,” he laughed as he said.

“In the sand?” she asked, “I already have sand all over me.”

“Everywhere? Shall I help you locate it?” He took her hand, and started back toward the hotel. “You know, I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had, hands down. If you continue to keep me satisfied this way, I won’t ever have the need to take a mistress.” He put his arm around her shoulder. They reached their shoes, and both sat down to put them on.

“What is a male lover called? A mister?” she asked.

“How they hell would I know?” He laughed at her.

“Well, it’s just, if you get a mistress, I want a lover as well,” she joked.

“I intend to keep you fully satisfied, so you won’t ever need a lover, Missy,” he said, and he pinched her arm.

“Stop pinching me, you brute! Why do you constantly pinch me? It really hurts.” Hermione slapped his arm.

“I pinch you to make sure you’re real, and for your information, you’re the brute,” he said with a real yawn. “You were absolutely brutal back there in the sand. I do believe we need to find our suite, take a shower, and have a little after sex nap. ”

“I believe you can do that if you want, but I really have to get to work. I do believe I will take that shower first,” she said, opening the door to the hotel.

“We could speed things up, and just take our showers together,” he pointed out.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, and said, “If I recall, our suite has two bathrooms, so co-ed showering is not about to happen.”

He shrugged, and pushed the button to the lift. “You can’t blame me for trying. I did get you to have sex on the beach, and I never really thought that would happen.”

She also shrugged, and said, “I guess I’m a tart after all.”

He laughed and said, “No one says words like ‘tart’ now-a-days, Granger,” as the lift doors closed.

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