Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

4 - Guilt

Draco stirred awake, immediately pulling the dark-haired witch against him, relishing the feel of her soft naked body against his, sighing as her gentle breath tickled his skin. She was alive and she was in his arms. It was all he had ever wanted.

And then, as though being doused by a bucket of ice-cold water, he remembered the wife who was waiting for him back home. He hated himself. No - he utterly loathed himself. Astoria did not deserve this. And neither did Etta.

He was a despicable human being.

Yet, he knew already that we wouldn't be able to stay away. Nothing in the world could keep him from her. Not his wife, his parents - nothing. The hunger she stirred in him was the strongest he had ever known. He had watched as he'd slowly pushed into her, heard the sharp gasp of delight and seen her beautiful face contort with pleasure. Afterwards, when they were lain in each other's arms, tangled in the sheets of her bed, he understood that this was more than just a one-off encounter.

"Draco?" Etta's eyes fluttered open. The startling green of them made his heart race. He couldn't help but press his lips down on hers, wanting to taste her, to have as much of her as he could.

"Hello, you," he whispered huskily, breaking away just enough so that his lips tickled hers when he spoke.

She stirred beneath him, yawning sleepily. "What time is it?" she muttered drowsily, closing her eyes again as she nuzzled into the crook of his arm.

Draco glanced around the unfamiliar bedroom, looking for a clock, but came up short. "How do you ever get up in time, Potter," he drawled, "if you don't even have a simple everyday item like a clock?"

With her eyes still closed, Etta sluggishly reached over to her bedside table, grappling at various items until she finally located a slim silver chained watch. Drawing her arm back in, she dropped the watch in his hand.

Draco's heart sank when he saw the time. It was four o'clock in the morning. Astoria was going to be worried. He shouldn't have stayed, but he couldn't bear to tear himself away from Etta's arms after waiting so long to be back in them.

"Etta, I've got to go," he said gently, hating himself all over again. He felt her body stiffen; the significance of this situation clearly not lost on her.

Her eyes flew back open and the sadness behind them was unmistakable. "Will I see you again?" she whispered, and his heart twisted at the vulnerability of her question.

He leant down, planting his lips firmly against hers, reassuring not just her but himself too. "I don't think I could ever stay away from you, Etta," he breathed, and he found his heart fluttered at the look of joy that flickered in her eyes.

Slowly and reluctantly, he peeled himself away from her and climbed out of bed. He could feel her eyes follow him around the room as he dressed, making him want to dive back under the covers and kiss every inch of her.

"Next Thursday," he said, leaning down to kiss the lightning shaped scar upon her forehead, the same scar that used to infuriate him so when they were younger. "I'll be in the same place. Waiting."

He stood up, taking one last look at the beautiful, fierce Gryffindor whom he had always loved above anyone and everything else.

And then he left. Back home to his waiting wife.

***

One morning-after-pill later, I felt like the shittiest and skankiest human being in the world.

If this was what it was like to have an affair with a married man, then I did not want it at all.

But I wanted him.