Chapter Three

Disclaimer: These are JKR's characters. I just love to play with them!

A/N: Please R/R! Let me know what you think of the story so far! Authors need feedback to keep our muses' happy and willing to continue. Big thanks to my new beta, Phoenix, for all her hard work and collaboration!

Chapter Three

Ron and Harry sat in their respective places and cried for all they were worth. Even with the end of the War, the Fates still saw fit to send them off with the most painful loss of all.

Ron found his voice and choked out curses to all the gods. Harry now definitely doubted the existence of any higher power. This was too cruel for any god.

A resounding silence filled the room, signaling to Harry that Ron had ceased his cursing. The blackness from the night began to cloak the office like a shroud. Goosebumps appeared on the men's arms as the temperature in the room plummeted. The night settled itself throughout the room, again reminding them bitterly of their loss.

"Hermione." Harry's strangled sob echoed through the night as he gave in to his grief again.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The wolf howled his anguish to the moon at the exact moment Hermione heard her name whispered on the night breeze. She glanced up from the feast Draco had presented to her and tried to locate where it had come from, but dismissed it once she couldn't find the source. Unperturbed, her lust for blood bade her to return to the sweet virgin she cradled.

Hermione had watched the master at work as he soothed the lost girl with kind words and gentle smiles. He had reassured the youngling that he would help as he led her to Hermione, who then charmed the girl well enough to lean in and kiss her cheek before the fateful bite.

Stopping her feed just before the point of death, she quickly broke the young girl's neck. Draco was standing off to the side, watching her intently.

He found her gorgeous, and the cold glint in her eyes only made her more seductive. Seeing that she was finished, he moved over to her.

"Enjoy dinner, pet?" He grinned evilly.

"Why, yes. Thank you, Draco."

A single scarlet drop sat in the corner of her smile. Draco leaned in to lick it away before pulling her to him roughly and leaving bite marks all over her neck. Wrenching away to compose himself, he saw the desire flash in her eyes. Fascinated, Draco watched the bites on her neck heal, leaving unblemished skin to taunt him anew. His gray eyes turned to slate as he wrapped her inside his cloak once more, both disappearing into the night.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Two weeks passed for Ron and Harry. Neither of them spoke about her - the pain was too fresh. They simply told everyone that Hermione's body had never been recovered, as no one had seen Ron with her that night.

A memorial service, to be held in the same field where she was supposed to have fallen, was organized in her honor. The survivors of the War were there: professors, family, friends, everyone whose life she had touched.

Ron and Harry gave heartfelt speeches of how they had loved her as a friend and a sister - Ron admitted that at one time, he had loved her as something more - and regaled stories of how her intellect had saved them more than once.

There wasn't a dry eye.

As the crowd dissipated, a plaintive howl carried across the field. Harry and Ron stopped dead in their tracks. Hagrid had been walking with them, wiping away tears the size of dinner plates with a handkerchief that could've passed for a tablecloth. A chill passed over the big man to hear the eerie cry in broad daylight.

"Must feel all the sad energy in the air, poor bloke." He kept walking, blowing his nose much like Mount Vesuvius when it erupted to bury Pompeii.

Catching one another's eyes, Ron and Harry distanced themselves from the crowd speaking in hushed tones.

"You've read how vampires can turn into wolves, right Harry? Do you think... it was one of them-- er, I mean, or are we just jumpy?" Ron's hands were fluttering in nervous anxiety.

Harry glanced around carefully before answering. "I have no idea. It just strikes me as odd that it was so well timed and in broad daylight. Being in wolf form would allow them to move freely during the day." He ran his fingers through his messy hair and sighed. "I just don't know, mate."

There was a sudden commotion behind them. Upon turning around, the boys saw a white wolf running through the throng of people. Harry's mouth fell open, and Ron let out a small squeak when the wolf began to deliberately lope towards them.

Its snow-white fur glinted in the sun, causing momentary blindness for those who stared too long. The animal was slightly larger than the average wolf, but it had a very graceful way of moving. As it came to rest at their feet, it sat on its haunches as though it were tame, staring Harry directly in his eyes.

Harry was lost in the familiar coffee depths. Hermione.

The animal suddenly shifted eye contact to Ron, and it almost seemed to smile at his shocked expression.

The crowd watched the exchange between men and beast intently, hoping to glean some idea of what was happening. It was obvious by the stricken looks of the men that they had no clue, either.

For no reason that anyone could fathom, the majestic wolf let out another eerie call of misery. The sight of this very odd wolf grieving with Ron and Harry sent chills down everyone's spines.

Ron's face was bloodless, and Harry's scalp prickled in apprehension.

Just as suddenly as the wail began, it stopped, allowing the final note to ring in the air around the gathering. Then the snowy wolf leapt up and ran for the safety of the trees lining the field.

All of those present for the odd display had mouths hanging open in shock. Harry and Ron were also, thoroughly disturbed by the scene, though for a different reason.

Giving each other significant looks they parted, each heading for their flats in London.

The sound of their Apparation caused the crowd to awaken from their stupor. The wizards and witches present followed suit while the Muggles were escorted home by McGonagall, as Hermione's former Head of House. Soon, the expanse of ground where the Final Battle had been waged was empty.

Only two creatures remained stationed at the edge of the forest, the white wolf and a black male with orbs the color of molten steel.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

A couple of hours later at Malfoy Manor, Hermione was lounging in a high backed armchair, staring at the fire in the hearth, letting the musty smell of old books in the library relax her.

Asking herself, for what seemed the hundredth time, why she had made her presence known at the memorial service. Hell, why did she even care enough to go? She was dead in a sense; her soul was gone, lost to her forever at Draco Malfoy's hands. He was a man she had always hated, but who she admitted to harboring some sexual feelings. Damn it! How could a vampire feel such emotions as lust and sadness without a soul?

Letting out a feral growl of frustration, she threw her empty goblet into the fire, relishing in the sound of breaking glass.

"You're destroying priceless heirlooms, kitten. You really shouldn't let your anger get the best of you," Draco drawled.

She turned at the silky voice behind her to see Draco grinning wickedly.

"Well, we'll just buy some more goblets, and three centuries from now they, too, will be priceless."

Her temper had flushed her face with the blood she had just consumed. Draco's eyes darkened with desire for the feisty woman before him.

Smelling his arousal, Hermione's desire soon overtook her.

With blinding swiftness, they were in each others arms, crushing one another with superhuman strength. Grabbing Draco's hair she wrenched his head back and began to smother his neck with kisses. As his moans became louder, she bit into his pale flesh eliciting the most ardent moan of all. Her lips curled into a smirk against his skin.

Releasing him, she pulled back to see that his eyes had clouded over in his moment of ecstasy.

Draco's eyes refocused to see her grinning roguishly, her teeth flashing in the firelight. His need to posses her overpowered him. He quickly made rags of her clothing as he brusquely tore them off. Her body was revealed to him - creamy, curvaceous, gorgeous - the fire casting an ethereal glow to her porcelain complexion.

Hermione's eyes danced in excited anticipation when Draco licked his lips. She made short work of his clothes, so that he was soon standing naked in front of her. His member was at full attention in the nest of blond curls.

He grabbed her waist pulling her to him roughly, knowing the pain caused by the forceful touch would heighten her pleasure.

She felt his hardness rubbing against her outer right thigh, and she growled in the back of her throat. The first time she had seen Draco naked, she had been happily surprised. His body was lean, but muscular, from years of Quidditch practice, and his skin had felt of satin. But the sight of his erection had caught her breath.

He seemed larger than the average man in his width. She had only been with Ron, so Hermione didn't know this from actual experience. It was more of an assumption she had made while 'researching' the male anatomy around her sixth year when curiosity began to get the best of her.

Remembering their first union, she smiled inwardly. At the end of that night, she had been quite sated.

Hearing her sigh of contentment, Draco began to worship her body with renewed vigor.

Kissing her passionately he lightly ran his hands down her back, enjoying her shivers of excitement. Gently, he laid her down on the soft rug before the fire. Moving his mouth along her jaw line to her neck, he slowly traced a path to her sex.

Hermione's heightened sense of smell had long ago detected her arousal, and she knew that Draco had, as well. Being close to the source must make him reel with power with the realization that he did this to her.

Hungrily, he licked her pink outer lips savoring the sweet dew that was already flowing freely from her center. Shoving his tongue inside her hot cleft, they moaned in unison.

Hermione bucked her hips against his face, screaming into the night when he flicked his tongue over her clitoris. Writhing in pleasurable agony, she forced his head even farther into her body. She wasn't far off - only Draco could make her come so quickly.

Her orgasm rushed powerfully from the very core of her being, like waves crashing over a jagged shore. The bright colors receded from behind her eyelids, and when she opened them, she saw gray eyes twinkling mischievously in the dim light.

Not to be outdone, she flipped him over onto his back to straddle him. She made love to his mouth while her hands roamed freely over his toned arms, down his taut stomach, to his rock hard thighs. Back and forth she went with feather light caresses, relishing the whimpers that came from her lover.

Moving her lips to his nipple she licked and nibbled it, his gasps music to her ears. She continued her ministrations on his other nipple eliciting the same reaction before trailing down his stomach. Passing his navel, she quickly flicked her tongue inside, and then proceeded on to her final destination.

Draco moaned and pulled at her, trying to position her so he could reach release. She reveled in the power she had over him at this moment before she swallowed his length and heard his strangled cry. She absolutely loved doing that to him.

Smiling slightly against his member, she began a rhythm of up and down strokes, swirling her tongue all around and paying particular attention to his head on the upward journey. As her tongue teased his head and even poked his slit, Draco would hiss in satisfaction.

Sounds like a true Slytherin, she mused. Hermione continued to deep throat him as her left hand began to run small circles on his inner thigh. For a grand effect, she would gently rake her nails on the sensitive skin of his leg and was usually rewarded with his entire body shaking in pleasure, muttering incomprehensively.

Draco's arse clenched, letting her knew he was close. All the blood from their dinner had rushed to his prick, and he was about to release his built up tension. Thrusting deeply into her mouth, Draco gave a hoarse moan that sounded like her name.

Hermione felt his seed travel down her throat. Even though she craved the taste of blood she had to admit that the taste of Draco was pretty damn good, too.

Crawling back up his gorgeous body, she hovered above his face. Draco's eyes were still closed as he recovered from his euphoric high. Once he regained control of his body, he opened his steely eyes to meet her cinnamon pair.

She stared into his eyes, reading in the depths what he would never voice aloud. His metallic ones took in the amazement, sense of power, and deep desire that were reflected toward him.

Similarly, Hermione saw dominance, awe, and a strong desire that spoke volumes on his jealousy. It seemed to her that their relationship was taking a new turn.

Draco wrapped his arms around her to pull her even closer to his chest and then grazed his lips softly across her neck.

Pulling back slightly, she saw the rare expression of contentment on his chiseled features. Hermione enjoyed seeing Draco without the customary sneer, but she liked it all the more knowing she was the only one who ever saw it.

He began to run his long, aristocratic fingers through her chestnut tresses, causing her to moan at the back of her throat from the slight pressure he exerted on her scalp.

Hermione's eyelids fluttered shut. Dark lashes quivered on her pale skin.

With ease born of a creature of the night, Draco pulled his body off the floor, still clutching Hermione.

His actions were so fluid; she only realized they had left the floor when she felt his long strides carrying them to their bedroom. Grazing her teeth against his shoulder, she smirked at the realization that they were not done yet tonight.