A Change of Heart

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Chapter 27 - The Day of Love -

Draco Malfoy had physically wanted Hermione Granger from the first moment he saw her at the auction, so many weeks ago, but it was the love he felt for her that kept him alive, more than the physical want. He slid his arms around her neck, across her back, and bent his head to find her waiting and wanting mouth. Always there for him, lips so red and warm that he grew hard just thinking about them. He had longed for this type of closeness for years, the tangled limbs, the wet kisses, the welcomed desires.

In his passion, he wasn’t even aware if they walked to the bed, or if he carried her. He wanted to memorize ever part of her body, from the turn of her hip, to the thrust of her breasts, to the valley of her flat stomach, the roundness of her buttocks, and every part in between.

Somehow time stopped, and she wasn’t aware of anything but of that moment. They had undressed, and fallen to the bed, and yet she only remembered kissing him, touching him, caressing him. Nothing else was real. Only he was real. Her arms and legs were around him, and he gave himself to her, to the softness of her body, and the warmth of her heart.

His body was long and hard against hers. He was stunning to her. He lay on his back, and pulled her down to him. Leaning over him, she kissed him full and wet on the mouth. She put one of her hands feathery soft down his stomach, and rested it on his groin. Without moving her hand, just resting it there, he had grown bigger and harder than he had ever remembered being. He pushed her back to her back, and played with her breasts. He loved her breasts. He felt they belonged as much to him as they did to her. The pleasure she felt when he touched, kissed, or sucked on her breasts, was nothing, he was sure, to what he felt when he did it. He put one red ripe bud in his mouth, and gently sucked it between his teeth. Her nipples immediately harden and came to luscious points. He pulled at her bottom, as he played with her breasts.

Suddenly, she felt his lips come to her ear, and he tickled her earlobe as he said, “Tonight and always.” That’s all he said. She knew what he meant. She put her hand once more on his swollen member, and he drew in a deep ragged breath as she cupped him with her palm. Their tongues licked and tasted each other everywhere. Her regular strokes on his member caused him to want her even more. He actually growled, took her hand, and said, “Stop.” If she didn’t stop soon, he would not recover. Tonight wasn’t going to be some flash in the pan; tonight was going to last.

He continued to palm her breasts, as his mouth traveled the length of her. He burned her with his touch. His fingers found the spot between her legs, and as she stroked him, and he began to push his fingers in her, they almost came together, just from their mutual manipulations. He removed his hand, and got up on his knees. He pulled her whole body down toward him.

Placing her legs over his shoulders, and putting two pillows under her hips, he placed his mouth on her, to seek his ultimate prize. He reveled in the smell and taste of her. His tongue did things that she had never imagined possible. She almost cried out in pleasure. Actual tears of joy. She came sudden - harder than she had ever come before. Her legs struggled to remain still, as she felt her orgasm travel from the center of her, down to her toes. Hermione quivered so violently that he put both his hands on her stomach for a moment, in which to calm her.

He removed the pillows, but before she could recover, he re-entered her with his fingers, first one, and then another. She didn’t think she could convalesce from her first climax, but she was wrong, for another wave was not far behind.

He sensed that she was again on the verge, and he was long past his ability to hold on any longer. He quickly move to his back again, and pulled her down on top of him. With his hands on her waist, he moved her up and down. They remained in this position for just a little while, when he suddenly pulled her up, until he had parted from her once more, and put her again on her back. He was torturing her. This time, with her legs again thrown up on his chest and over his shoulders, he thrust himself into her as far and deep as he could. She was physically uncomfortable, but that seemed to be overshadowed by the need to meet his fury.

He pulled out a third time. His hardness would only remain perhaps for a few minutes longer. He flipped her over so she was on her knees and arms, he bent her at the waist, put one hand under her, to prop her up, and entered her vagina from behind. In this position, with her up against his desire, he could bring her to another climax, he was sure. He let the hand on her stomach go between her legs. His other hand was sprayed out on her back. He felt his knees hurt and the muscles in his legs burned. She started to cry out again. She cried out his name. He could wait no longer. Her ecstasy only served to bring him off harder than ever. He drove himself in deeper still, for one last second. She was breathing short little shallow breaths, and he almost forgot how to breathe. Finally, his spasms tore through his body, at an alarming rate and intensity. He had no thought at that moment. He just was what he was.

As she struggled to come down from her orgasm, he almost fell on top of her. He couldn't move. She moved to lay flat on her stomach, and he found the strength to move off her, to his side, and draped his leg and arm around her still quivering frame.

He could get used to this, he truly could. Each time he had sex with her was better than the last. Was this how it would always be? He could only hope. He finally found more strength to bring her body next to his. He started to kiss her again, all over her face, as she rained kisses all over his face as well. Her warmth was something he'd been missing all the days of his life, and he never intended to be without it again. He stroked her forehead, and then her cheek. Why had sex never been this good before? Did loving someone really make that big of a difference? That was the only conclusion he could make.

“I love you,” he managed to say.

“I love you,” she said in return. She never wanted things to change. She wanted to love him this way for the rest of her life. She thought to herself that making love to someone, whom she really loved, was so much better than just having sex. It really did make a difference. Unknown to her, he had just reached the same conclusion.

He went to his back, and put his arm around her body. She rested her head on his chest, with her arm around his waist. They both happily welcomed sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Sunday, Draco woke first. He showered and dressed and went down to get some breakfast. He thought that she deserved a sleep late. When he came back up to the room, he saw the patio door was opened. She was awake, apparently showered, but not yet dressed. She was leaning against the balcony, wearing only a robe. He crept quietly up behind her, and when he was just a handbreadth away, she said, without turning around, “Don’t ever become a spy. I heard you come in the suite, and I saw the cast of your shadow on the floor.”

She spun around and he pulled her close. She leaned into him, and felt his warm body radiate heat to hers. Placing a hand on her neck, he bent his face to her face and applied pressure to her lips with his. She immediately moved her mouth against his, then opened her mouth, to accept his kiss deeper. He moved his other hand in a circular caress on her back, as if he was fascinated with the feel of the fabric of her robe. She didn’t say a word, so he took her silence as compliance and continued.

Draco moved his mouth to the tender spot on her neck, which he knew was sensitive. Her body jumped slightly, and she clung to him tighter than before. As his mouth moved down her neck, her hands seemed to suddenly come to life, and moved to his hair, and pushed his head lower. He pushed the robe slightly off her shoulder, but the sash at her waist kept it mildly in place.

His lips lingered at the base of her neck, near her collarbone. Eventually he moved his mouth lower, and kissed the swell of her left breast. Suddenly he lifted his face and looked at her. He just looked at her. He noticed how the brown in her eyes were specked with gold and green. He noticed several small freckles on her nose. She had long dark eyelashes, which curled at the edges. She smiled. He loved her smile.

She took their moment apart to look at him. His eyes, which she had always assumed were cold as steel, because they were grey, were really warm and inviting, like a warm summer day. His hair was the color of winter wheat. He had such fine features, but masculine, like a Greek statue, or a painting by an Italian master.

He felt compelled to touch her eyelashes. He brushed his fingertip across them, and said, “Make a wish,” when he saw that he had one stuck on the tip of his finger. He watched her mouth form a small circle and a small breath expelled from the recesses of her lungs as she blew the eyelash away, and he thought that she had a mouth made for kissing. It was a beautiful mouth.

She put the back of her hand against his warm cheek. She could look at him all day. She stared at his tender mouth, which was slightly opened. She felt a tingle in her belly, just thinking about those talented lips, and the things they could do. A blush came over her cheeks, which she was not aware of, until Draco said, “You’re blushing. Are you thinking dirty thoughts?” She smiled again, leaned into him, and kissed the lips she had just been admiring.

Their lips fit together perfectly, as if they were once one single piece, which had broken, and now brought back together to fit perfectly. He felt like she drained him of all thought and reason, just with her kiss. He was already hard; he had been just from looking at her when he first entered the suite.

He pushed the robe all the way off her shoulders. It was bunched at her waist, still suspended by the sash. Did she realize they were outside on the patio? How far would she let him go?

She was painfully aware that they were on the patio. She knew someone could possibly see. It felt exhilarating to do something so unlike her, out of character. She put her mouth in his hair, as his mouth went to her breasts. He fell upon his knees, and she pulled his chin up to look at her. She came down too, and was level with him. He pushed her down the rest of the way, onto the cold floor of the patio. At least no one could see them now, she reasoned.

He passed his fingers lightly down the center of her body. He pulled on the damn sash, but it had a knot. It took both of his hands to untie, and he mumbled an obscenity. She laughed. “I bet you tied it in a knot to torture me,” he said to her, as he finally got it untied. He pushed the robe completely open, and again lowered his head to her breasts. He could feel her chest rise and fall, with each breath she took.

Her hands were still in his hair, and on his neck. She started to unbutton his shirt, and she removed it from his strong shoulders. She sprinkled kisses on his neck and shoulders, while he kissed her elsewhere.

He grazed one of her nipples with his teeth, and immediately felt the tips of her breasts harden. He sucked, and kissed, and when he had his fill, he reached down and pushed his trousers down his hips, then with a deep breath, he swallowed hard and entered her slowly, as if it was rehearsed.

Hermione put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him up and then pulled him back, showing him the rhythm that she wanted, and he obliged. He had a very determined look on his face, his eyes being half-closed, and he almost looked like he was in pain. She shut her eyes again, and gave into the pleasure of his hard muscular body against her soft supple flesh.

When their spontaneous lovemaking abated, she got up immediately.

“No cuddling?” he said, getting dressed.

“My goodness, someone could have seen us,” she muttered, like she had just realized that fact. She threw her robe back on and started to run inside.

“You just realized that, did you, Miss Prude?” He laughed at her, grabbing for her robe as she ran in the hotel, though the fabric fell through his fingers as she dashed away.

He chased her around the couch, and she said, “Draco, I don’t feel like playing tag, so stop chasing me.”

“Then stop running from me, and let me catch you,” he joked.

Hermione gave that irritating schoolteacher look which she had perfected flawlessly over the years, and said, “I’m serious, and we have other things to do today, besides making love every minute.”

“What could be more important than making love?” he asked, irritated. He threw himself on the sofa and crossed his legs.

“First,” she said, as she walked over to the dining room, and walked back out with what seriously looked like an itinerary, “we’re going to this lovely little cottage that’s for sale, close by here, right on the shore. I’ve made arrangements for us to look at it today. I thought we might like to buy it, and use it as a vacation home.”

He sat up. He was intrigued. “And?” he asked.

“Second, there’s this art studio near here, and this rather famous wizard, who's a very prominent artist, artwork is displayed there. I've always wanted to go to one of his exhibitions, and there’s an open house from noon to four o’clock today. Harry and Ginny wants to go with us.”

“Thrilling, what’s next?” He acted bored, but he was actually amused.

“Well, now the next one you might not like,” she started.

“I don’t particularly like the first two, but it seems you’re going to drag my arse there anyway, so what could be worse, a museum?” he waned.

“Don’t be silly,” Hermione said, sitting beside him. “As you know, this hotel and all the surrounding area are part of a pretty old Wizard village. There’s a really old library in the village, and I’m dying to go there.” She seemed so pleased with the day she had planned.

She smiled so big, he almost hated to burst her bubble. Almost, but not enough to keep him from saying, “No way in hell am I going to a bloody library, especially an old, dark, dank, smelly one. I’ll buy you that fucking cottage by the sea without even looking at it. I’ll buy you all the paintings you want, to put on every last, mother-fucking wall of the bloody cottage, but I am not going to a library and you can’t make me!” He glared at her hard, and crossed his arms.

Two hours later, after they had seen the cottage (and made an offer on it), and had met the Potters at the art studio, in which Draco did purchase two paintings, one for his office, and one for her house (because they really were quite good), he was holding her hand and milling around a skinny aisle that was between two tall bookshelves at the dark, dank, smelly, mother-fucking library.

She didn’t cry to persuade him. She didn’t even use her usual threat of “no sex.” All she did was calmly stand, say “You could have just said no. You didn’t need to be so mean.” And then she left the room, went to get another shower, dressed in one of the prettiest yellow dresses he'd ever seen, and said, “If you change you mind, we’re leaving from the lobby in one hour. I’m going down to meet Harry and Ginny for an early lunch. If you don’t come with us, I’ll see you later. I love you.” She bent down, for he was still sitting on the couch in the exact spot where she had left him, and kissed his cheek, and then gently ran her fingers across his hair.

She was smarter than him that was for sure! As soon as she left the room, he ran and got another quick shower, got dressed and exactly one hour later he met them in the lobby, and the happy threesome, plus Draco, was on their way to their electrifying, event filled day. Hurray.

After the fun, they went back up to their room. It was almost dinnertime. She told him that she had made reservations for the hotel’s exclusive restaurant for 7:00 pm.

“When did you have time to plan all of the activities for today, plus make us reservations for a restaurant, and still have time to make love earlier?” he asked. He was truly amazed by her.

“I’m good at multi-tasking.” She smiled, went into the other bedroom, and opened the closet to find something to change into for dinner.

“Why are all your clothes still in here? Did you not have TIME to move back to my room? I thought you said you were a good at multi-tasking,” he sneered, but in jest.

“I just rather have my things in here,” she said, as she pulled out a black dress.

He came up behind her, put the black dress back in the closet, and pulled out a red dress. He handed it to her, bent down and picked out a pair of shoes, and then went over to the dresser, and started looking at the meager assortment of jewelry she had brought with her.

“This will never do,” he said. He left the room, without another word. Hermione leaned out the doorframe and watched him walk across the living room, enter his room, and then walk back toward her. She hurried over and sat on the bed. He threw a red velvet box at her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Open it and find out,” he said.

She did as instructed, and enclosed in the box was a beautiful ruby and diamond necklace, and matching ruby and diamond earrings. “Is this why you picked out the red dress for me to wear?” she asked, smiling.

“You should be colour coordinated, you know.” He shrugged.

She stood up slowly, walked over to him and put one hand on one cheek while she kissed his other. “Thank you. I love them and they’re very beautiful.”

“Thank goodness you didn’t see them while you were snooping around for your ring.” He plopped down on the bed. She put the jewelry on her dresser and tackled him.

“I wasn’t snooping around for the ring and you know it,” she said and she jumped up and down on him and the bed.

“Oh, pain!” he feigned. “You have gained weight, haven’t you?” He pushed her off him and explained, “Now, for the record, I must remind you again that I’ve bought you many expensive items since we've began dating, and nary a thing from you to me. I'm keeping score, you know, and my feelings are more than hurt, they are wounded beyond repair.”

She sat next to him for a minute, and thought he had a point. “If I accept all these things from you, or even more than accept, practically expect all these things from you, do you think those women from the other night are right? Do you think a part of me is attracted to your money? Because, I would hate to think that was true, and I don’t think it is, but now I don’t know.” She crossed her legs, and the top leg started to bounce up and down as she truly pondered these things.

“It was a joke, Granger. Stop reading so much into everything. Anyway, you would be a fool not to like me a little bit for my money, and you my dear are no fool,” he concluded and then he pulled her to his chest, fell back on the bed, and kissed her soundly on the mouth.

She pushed against his chest with her arms, and said, “Let me at least pay for dinner tonight.”

“Fine, but I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. Now get dressed,” he prompted, giving her bum a pat and getting up from the bed. He walked out of her room to go to his own.

The exclusive Grand Marsh Hotel Restaurant was very elegant and chic. They had the best table in the house, and Draco order a magnum of champagne. Hermione wondered how much that was going to cost.

Draco ordered the lobster bisque, and the filet mignon. Hermione was going to order the cheapest thing on the menu, except the menu didn’t have prices. Draco was embarrassed that it was taking her so long to order, so he ordered her the same as him.

Hermione sank lower into her seat. She looked in her purse. She only had 300 galleons with her. Normally, that would be enough to feed 20 people at a normal restaurant. Hermione knew, deep in her gut, that the champagne alone was probably three times that amount.

Draco had forgotten that she had offered to pay, so he didn’t know why she was acting so distracted. “What’s wrong?” He looked at her perplexed.

“May I borrow about 2500 galleons?” she asked him in a low voice.

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t have enough to pay for dinner,” she admitted.

He openly laughed. He really hadn’t remembered that she was supposed to pay. “Well then, they might make you wash dishes, or worse, they might call the law. So sad, so sad,” he teased.

“I’ll just charge it to the room, thank you very much.” She smiled at him sweetly. He didn’t think of that. He wanted to tease her a while longer about the whole thing. Well, at least this way, they could enjoy their meal.

After they ate, he talked her into taking a moonlight drive with him. She asked if she could drive. He said no. He would drive, of course. He didn’t trust her driving during the day, there was no way in hell he'd get in a car with her at night.

They got in her pretty little yellow car, and started their drive. “Do you even have a destination in mind?” she asked him.

“No,” he laughed.

“You’re alright to drive, aren’t you? How much did you have to drink?” she asked him.

“I only had two glasses, for your information,” he scolded, as they roared down the road.

“That’s what they all say,” she scolded back.

He reached over and grabbed her hand. She leaned her head back, and rolled down her window with the other hand. The fresh air caressed her face and made her feel awake and cool.

He rolled down his window as well. Now her hair was flying all around her face. She laughed. He looked over at her, and laughed as well. He reached over and pinched her arm. “I just wanted to make sure you were still real.” He loved her so. She let out another laugh and shook her head vigorously. He watched her in awe; she seemed so happy and carefree.

She looked out the front window and yelled, “DRACO, WATCH OUT!”

He turned to look out the front window as well, but was too late. The oncoming headlights were in front of him before he could react, and he didn’t even have time to swerve the car.

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