His Veela Heritage by RiverWriter

chapter 22

She collapsed into Draco’s arms, not the least bit ashamed of how much she needed him right now. He just stood there, literally holding her up while she cried.

“Hi,” she murmured when she finally caught her breath.

“Tough evening?” he responded wryly.

“You could say that,” she responded in kind.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She sighed. “I promise to tell you everything but I’m not ready yet.”

“Take your time, love. Let’s get you home then.”

She went to disentangle herself from him, and when she looked up at his face she sucked in a surprised breath. All the hurt and anger she had been feeling melted away and she was suddenly overwhelmed with need, and it wasn’t entirely her own.

“Draco,” she said, voice husky with desire, she licked her lips, “you have a bed here, don’t you?”

“Hermione,” he groaned.

“I’m serious,” she said, it felt urgent that she be with him again, it had been too long. Everything else faded away and the world only consisted of the two of them. “Take me upstairs, or I don’t know, wherever your room it.”

And then she was in his arms, cradled against his chest and he was striding from the room towards the family wing. But as soon as they exited the dining room she spotted his parents loitering in the corridor and if it wasn’t so embarrassing she would have laughed; they’d been eavesdropping like teenagers.

Narcissa had her hands clasped together and she was visibly upset. Lucius was leaning on his walking stick and casting surreptitious worried glances at his wife. It was something to behold. Hermione hid her face in Draco’s neck.

“I asked you to go wait in your rooms,” Draco hissed.

“And yet we remain the parents and you are the child,” his father drawled in return.

“Is everything alright?” she heard his mother ask.

“Everything is fine, I’m just taking Hermione to my rooms.”

“Are you sure?” She felt Narcissa lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Narcissa.” Lucius sounded exasperated.

There was a pause. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh,” she said, “of course. I hope that we’ll see you two in the morning.”

Hermione couldn’t bring herself to respond, much less turn and face the woman.

“Goodnight Mother,” Draco responded simply and then she felt him begin to move swiftly down the corridor. After a few moments he began to shake with mirth.

She couldn’t help it, she began to giggle against the skin of his neck. He held her closer but she could feel his amusement increase and they began to feed off of each other.

They finally arrived… somewhere and he set her down and she opened her eyes and looked around to find herself in a bedroom. Draco pulled her back to him and nuzzled her neck. Then he groaned.

“I can’t believe I'm about to say this, but my mother’s completely ruined the mood, hasn't she?”

“Oh Merlin Draco! What must your parents think of me? First my best friend breaks into their house and then they catch me sneaking off to do...that with their son! I'm absolutely mortified!”

“Do that, do that?” Draco repeated. “First of all witch, there was no sneaking. I was carrying my wife through the halls of my home to my room where I intended to make love to her. We're not going to call it ‘that’ like it's something to be ashamed of.”