Draco/Hermione- Liar Game- Chapter 2: The Story Of Willow Roth
Title: Liar Game- Chapter 2: The Story Of Willow Roth (3/?)
Author: butterflys_fics/blacksouledbutterfly
Rating: R
Prompt Set: 100.3
Prompt: 69. Quiet
Word Count: 2588
Summary: It was just a simple game of deceit, but the effects would last a lifetime.
Warnings: None yet.
Notes: The chapter index can be found here. AU as of Book 7.
Made by krazeea at TDA
She was brushing out her still wet hair when she felt someone standing in the doorway of the bedroom. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the quiet of the room was about to be disturbed.
Turning slowly, her hair sticking to the side of her neck, she faced the doorway. Draco was leaning against the doorway, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Did you sleep well last night, Granger?”
Slowly she placed her brush down on the vanity and tightened the robe she wore. “I suppose I did. What brings you here so early in the morning?”
“A good host always checks on his guests.” His eyes moved slowly up and down her body, taking note of the way part of her leg was visible through the gap in the robe. “And I’m trying so much to be a good host.”
“I doubt that very much.” She stood slowly so the robe moved a bit, cutting off his view of her skin. “You must have come here for a reason, Malfoy.”
“This time you’re right. I did. Remember that story I had started to tell you last night?”
“Not really.”
“About the former inhabitant of this room.”
“You mean the mistress of your ancestor?”
“The very same. I thought you’d like to see what she looked like.” Pushing himself away from the doorframe he reached out into the hall and when his arm came back into view there was a painting in his hand. “Willow Roth was her name.”
Hermione made her way slowly over to examine the painting. Taking the golden frame in her hand she watched as the woman on the canvas smiled at her. Her dark brown hair was curly and pinned on top of her head with delicate pins that had pearls on the ends. A long necklace fell around her neck with bright green gems, the end of it coming to rest between the swell of her breasts. “She’s rather pretty.”
“Actually, I think she looks a bit like you.”
“Do you?” Dancing her eyes across the canvas again she had to agree there was a bit of a similarity between the way both of them looked. “I guess there is something similar about the two of us, yes. Is that why you gave me this room? Because I reminded you of her?”
“Perhaps that was why I did originally, yes.” His long fingers grasped the painting in his hands and he pulled it away from her before placing it back out into the hall. “But I also thought you would enjoy this room. Did you not like it?”
“It was fine. If you’re asking if I had trouble sleeping the answer is no. But I would have preferred it if I was able to sleep in my own bed.”
“Most people do.” Reaching out he grasped the edge of her robe, running his fingers up and down the silky fabric. “Nice robe, Granger.”
“Thank you. It was a gift.”
“From a boyfriend?”
“No, from my parents. They said I should have something nice to wear in the morning.”
“I have to admit: they chose out a rather nice piece for you.”
“I do believe you just complimented muggles.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed she crossed her legs, the robe sliding down to rest on either side of them. “I don’t think your parents would like that very much.”
His eyes rested on her legs as he spoke. “I don’t think they’d agree with many of the things that I’ve been doing or thinking lately, Granger. We haven’t seen eye to eye in quite some time.”
“Poor Malfoy. Do your parents not love you anymore?”
“Perhaps they don’t.”
Leaning back slightly she placed her hands behind her and put her weight on them, half lounging on the bed. “Tell me more about Willow.”
He strode the rest of the way into the room and took a seat in front of the vanity, turning slightly in the seat so he could face her. “What would you like to know?”
“Whatever you know. I won’t know if you’re lying or not but it doesn’t really matter. I’m just a bit curious.”
“I don’t really know all that much about her to be honest. Just little bits and pieces.”
“Then tell me the bits and pieces.”
“Well…she went to school with my great-great-grandfather. They spoke on occasion but they weren’t what you would call particularly close. After school he married a woman of his family’s choosing.”
“An arranged marriage?”
“They weren’t uncommon at all back then. Not all that uncommon now either, if you’re a pureblood. Are you going to let me finish the story?”
“Of course. Continue.”
“As I was saying: he married a woman of his parent’s choosing. And while the woman wasn’t completely horrible there was no love shared between them.”
“Was this woman your great-great-grandmother?”
“Yes, she was.”
“Sounds like such a loving family history.”
“Are you just going to keep interrupting me or are you going to let me finish this?”
“My apologies. Continue.”
“Thank you. So for five years they remained married. The marriage wasn’t loving but it was amicable. They both knew that their good names remained intact due to their marriage and that was all they were really concerned at the time. Then my great-great-grandfather was out one day and he ran into his old classmate.”
“Willow.”
“Yes. They sat and spoke and it was the beginning of a tentative friendship. And over time they grew closer.”
“And then relationship became physical.”
“That’s the simplest way to put it, yes. Soon he came to care very much for Willow and moved her into the manor.”
“And how did his wife feel about that?”
“As long as they kept a good public face and she remained the wife of someone in a high standing pureblood family she was less than inclined to make trouble.”
“But that makes no sense.”
“Why not?”
“What kind of a woman would be that willing to share her husband? It defies all rational.”
“Maybe in your world, Granger. But in the world of purebloods extramarital affairs are rather common.”
“Alright, so they happen. But how many of those wives are keen on having the mistress living under their roof?”
“Simple. The y live in the household and can be called permanent guests or staff and then the man isn’t seen out and about seeing his mistress. That way people don’t gossip.”
“I still say that it makes absolutely no sense but I guess my opinion on the matter isn’t really all that important.”
“Not really, no. This all happened a long time ago, Granger. They’re all dead now. And even if they weren’t I highly doubt that your opinion would matter to them.”
“Okay, there’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“And what might that be?”
“Alright, you said he knew Willow back in school, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did he like her even a tiny bit back at school?”
“A little, I suppose. They were never a couple or anything. But I suppose he probably fancied her, yes.”
“Then why wouldn’t he have requested to marry her? Surely his parents wouldn’t have minded.”
“Of course they would have.”
“Why?”
“Like I told you: his marriage was arranged.”
“But if he had feelings for another pureblood girl-”
“She wasn’t pureblood.”
Hermione stopped, blinking at him. She opened her mouth several times but wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Shifting awkwardly she cleared her throat. “She wasn’t a pureblood? I thought Malfoy’s hated anyone who wasn’t a pureblood.”
“Most of the time that’s true. But this wasn’t a romantic relationship, Granger. It was sex. Didn’t slave owners often sleep with their slaves? That was just sex. They looked down upon the slaves and yet they were fine when they needed sexual release. This is the same idea.”
“I thought you said he cared about her.”
“I was talking about the Malfoy family in general. He wasn’t the first in our family to take a non-pureblood as a lover.”
“So…she was muggle born?”
“She was a half-blood, actually. But in this family-”
“That’s splitting hairs.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Between the two of them.”
“They remained lovers until his death.”
“That’s it? She spent her life being his hidden secret? She never got married, never had any children?”
“She was in love with him,” he reminded her, keeping his voice very calm and flat. It was almost like he was explaining things to a child. “I’ve heard that love can make you do crazy things. Perhaps for her it was enough to be able to stay by the man that she loved for the rest of her life.”
Hermione tilted her head to one side as she considered what he had just said. If she was in love with someone would she be content just to be by their side even if it meant being in the shadow? Or would she rather have a real relationship with someone she may love a little less? Is love truly enough to sustain you your whole life? “I don’t know if I could live that way.”
“What way?”
“To feel hidden by the man I love. If I wanted to be with him I’d have to really be with him. I couldn’t just be hidden in the shadows, watching him be married to someone else and raising a family with them. If I was in love I’d want to be with them and be the only one with them. If they were to raise a family I’d want them to raise it with me.”
“That’s a romantic view of the world, Granger. But life isn’t made for romance. In order to survive you need to be based in reality.”
“Romance can exist in reality, Malfoy. It just doesn’t come as easy as indifference.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He shifted towards, placing a hand on her exposed knee. “How is being a romantic working out for you, Granger?”
Her gaze flickered down briefly to the paleness of the hand against her skin. “Why do you care so much?”
“Call me curious.”
“I don’t think being a romantic goes well or bad. Being a romantic is believing that one day you’ll end up with the person that you’re supposed to be with. It means that you believe life will hand you the best card it possibly can and that in the end everything will work out in your favor.”
His hand squeezed her knee gently, an almost amused smirk spreading across his face. “Seems like such a childish way to see things.”
“I find it to be a bit more like being optimistic than being childish to be honest.”
“Don’t you ever think that love can sometimes take the backburner to lust? Lust can be the most important thing sometimes. When you deny your lust sometimes it can be worse than not believing in love.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Malfoy. I understand lust.”
“Do you?” He moved then, sliding off of the seat. She was pretty positive he was playing a game with her but wasn’t that the whole point of this get together of his? To play games? “How much do you understand it?”
“You’ll have to figure that out all on your own, Malfoy. A girl can’t go revealing too much about herself.”
“I see. That sounded eerily like a challenge.”
“Me? Challenge you?”
“Why not? I challenge you constantly.” He stopped right in front of her, hand sliding slowly up her leg to rest on her inner thigh, squeezing gently. His face was close enough to hers that his breath was warm on her face. He smelled vaguely like spice and mint. “And I’m very much up for the challenge.”
“You’re always up for a challenge, aren’t you?”
“Most of the time, yes.” Then his mouth descended upon hers, warm and firm and insistent. Her immediate instinct was to pull back from him but if she was going to do well in this little game that he had set up she was going to have to learn to go beyond what she found comfortable. So instead of following her first instinct she kissed him back, allowing him to think she was falling into his little trap.
The hand on her thigh shifted, grasping her waist as the other hand came down to grasp the other side. Then he was sliding her back further on the bed, his body shifting to hover over hers. She was vaguely aware that the door was still open but she had no intention of letting him get too far in this little challenge anyway so she wasn’t exactly worried. And even if her friends saw she could always explain to them that this was part of the game and hope that they believed her.
The kiss deepened as his body pressed firmly against hers, pressing her down against the bed. His hands moved again, sliding down her legs, his nails scratching vaguely over her bare skin. Had this been anyone but Malfoy and had the situation been any different she was sure that she would find the whole situation rather erotic, but that wasn’t the case. Right now it was like getting a shot- you had to just suck it up and get through it.
His teeth tugged on her bottom lip and despite herself a small sound of appreciation crawled up her throat. Okay, so she could admit that despite it being Malfoy she was enjoying the attention. But she wasn’t about to let that change the fact that she just wanted to practice to win the game. So even as he tugged her lip into his mouth and sucked on it she made herself be quiet despite how good it felt.
Then his lips were traveling down across her cheek and down his neck, lips moving with confidence and yet being completely patient. For a moment she tilted her head slightly to the side, giving him better access to the sensitive skin of her throat. She started counting slowly, waiting for just the right time to make Malfoy stop. And then one of his hands slid back up her leg, slowly making its way up her inner thigh.
She curled her other leg as close to herself as she could, pushing him back from her slightly. She made sure he didn’t see it as a rejection, made it seem like she was just trying to change her position a bit and then she thrust her knee against his chest. The air rushed out of him and hit her throat in a sudden burst as he rolled off of her and onto the bed, hand pressing against the wounded area. He coughed a couple of times, wincing against the pain that shot through his chest as he did so.
But Hermione was feeling rather good as she sat up, adjusting her robe so it covered her much better than it was and slid off of the bed, slowly making her way over to her bag. “You seemed so sure before that I couldn’t play your little game, Malfoy.” Looking at him over her shoulder she smiled. “I guess you were wrong, weren’t you?”
Even as Malfoy’s face moved from looking like he were in pain to looking annoyed, his eyes narrowing into what resembled a glare she knew she had gotten him this time.
Hermione just smiled wider.
Author: butterflys_fics/blacksouledbutterfly
Rating: R
Prompt Set: 100.3
Prompt: 69. Quiet
Word Count: 2588
Summary: It was just a simple game of deceit, but the effects would last a lifetime.
Warnings: None yet.
Notes: The chapter index can be found here. AU as of Book 7.
Made by krazeea at TDA
She was brushing out her still wet hair when she felt someone standing in the doorway of the bedroom. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the quiet of the room was about to be disturbed.
Turning slowly, her hair sticking to the side of her neck, she faced the doorway. Draco was leaning against the doorway, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Did you sleep well last night, Granger?”
Slowly she placed her brush down on the vanity and tightened the robe she wore. “I suppose I did. What brings you here so early in the morning?”
“A good host always checks on his guests.” His eyes moved slowly up and down her body, taking note of the way part of her leg was visible through the gap in the robe. “And I’m trying so much to be a good host.”
“I doubt that very much.” She stood slowly so the robe moved a bit, cutting off his view of her skin. “You must have come here for a reason, Malfoy.”
“This time you’re right. I did. Remember that story I had started to tell you last night?”
“Not really.”
“About the former inhabitant of this room.”
“You mean the mistress of your ancestor?”
“The very same. I thought you’d like to see what she looked like.” Pushing himself away from the doorframe he reached out into the hall and when his arm came back into view there was a painting in his hand. “Willow Roth was her name.”
Hermione made her way slowly over to examine the painting. Taking the golden frame in her hand she watched as the woman on the canvas smiled at her. Her dark brown hair was curly and pinned on top of her head with delicate pins that had pearls on the ends. A long necklace fell around her neck with bright green gems, the end of it coming to rest between the swell of her breasts. “She’s rather pretty.”
“Actually, I think she looks a bit like you.”
“Do you?” Dancing her eyes across the canvas again she had to agree there was a bit of a similarity between the way both of them looked. “I guess there is something similar about the two of us, yes. Is that why you gave me this room? Because I reminded you of her?”
“Perhaps that was why I did originally, yes.” His long fingers grasped the painting in his hands and he pulled it away from her before placing it back out into the hall. “But I also thought you would enjoy this room. Did you not like it?”
“It was fine. If you’re asking if I had trouble sleeping the answer is no. But I would have preferred it if I was able to sleep in my own bed.”
“Most people do.” Reaching out he grasped the edge of her robe, running his fingers up and down the silky fabric. “Nice robe, Granger.”
“Thank you. It was a gift.”
“From a boyfriend?”
“No, from my parents. They said I should have something nice to wear in the morning.”
“I have to admit: they chose out a rather nice piece for you.”
“I do believe you just complimented muggles.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed she crossed her legs, the robe sliding down to rest on either side of them. “I don’t think your parents would like that very much.”
His eyes rested on her legs as he spoke. “I don’t think they’d agree with many of the things that I’ve been doing or thinking lately, Granger. We haven’t seen eye to eye in quite some time.”
“Poor Malfoy. Do your parents not love you anymore?”
“Perhaps they don’t.”
Leaning back slightly she placed her hands behind her and put her weight on them, half lounging on the bed. “Tell me more about Willow.”
He strode the rest of the way into the room and took a seat in front of the vanity, turning slightly in the seat so he could face her. “What would you like to know?”
“Whatever you know. I won’t know if you’re lying or not but it doesn’t really matter. I’m just a bit curious.”
“I don’t really know all that much about her to be honest. Just little bits and pieces.”
“Then tell me the bits and pieces.”
“Well…she went to school with my great-great-grandfather. They spoke on occasion but they weren’t what you would call particularly close. After school he married a woman of his family’s choosing.”
“An arranged marriage?”
“They weren’t uncommon at all back then. Not all that uncommon now either, if you’re a pureblood. Are you going to let me finish the story?”
“Of course. Continue.”
“As I was saying: he married a woman of his parent’s choosing. And while the woman wasn’t completely horrible there was no love shared between them.”
“Was this woman your great-great-grandmother?”
“Yes, she was.”
“Sounds like such a loving family history.”
“Are you just going to keep interrupting me or are you going to let me finish this?”
“My apologies. Continue.”
“Thank you. So for five years they remained married. The marriage wasn’t loving but it was amicable. They both knew that their good names remained intact due to their marriage and that was all they were really concerned at the time. Then my great-great-grandfather was out one day and he ran into his old classmate.”
“Willow.”
“Yes. They sat and spoke and it was the beginning of a tentative friendship. And over time they grew closer.”
“And then relationship became physical.”
“That’s the simplest way to put it, yes. Soon he came to care very much for Willow and moved her into the manor.”
“And how did his wife feel about that?”
“As long as they kept a good public face and she remained the wife of someone in a high standing pureblood family she was less than inclined to make trouble.”
“But that makes no sense.”
“Why not?”
“What kind of a woman would be that willing to share her husband? It defies all rational.”
“Maybe in your world, Granger. But in the world of purebloods extramarital affairs are rather common.”
“Alright, so they happen. But how many of those wives are keen on having the mistress living under their roof?”
“Simple. The y live in the household and can be called permanent guests or staff and then the man isn’t seen out and about seeing his mistress. That way people don’t gossip.”
“I still say that it makes absolutely no sense but I guess my opinion on the matter isn’t really all that important.”
“Not really, no. This all happened a long time ago, Granger. They’re all dead now. And even if they weren’t I highly doubt that your opinion would matter to them.”
“Okay, there’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“And what might that be?”
“Alright, you said he knew Willow back in school, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did he like her even a tiny bit back at school?”
“A little, I suppose. They were never a couple or anything. But I suppose he probably fancied her, yes.”
“Then why wouldn’t he have requested to marry her? Surely his parents wouldn’t have minded.”
“Of course they would have.”
“Why?”
“Like I told you: his marriage was arranged.”
“But if he had feelings for another pureblood girl-”
“She wasn’t pureblood.”
Hermione stopped, blinking at him. She opened her mouth several times but wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Shifting awkwardly she cleared her throat. “She wasn’t a pureblood? I thought Malfoy’s hated anyone who wasn’t a pureblood.”
“Most of the time that’s true. But this wasn’t a romantic relationship, Granger. It was sex. Didn’t slave owners often sleep with their slaves? That was just sex. They looked down upon the slaves and yet they were fine when they needed sexual release. This is the same idea.”
“I thought you said he cared about her.”
“I was talking about the Malfoy family in general. He wasn’t the first in our family to take a non-pureblood as a lover.”
“So…she was muggle born?”
“She was a half-blood, actually. But in this family-”
“That’s splitting hairs.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Between the two of them.”
“They remained lovers until his death.”
“That’s it? She spent her life being his hidden secret? She never got married, never had any children?”
“She was in love with him,” he reminded her, keeping his voice very calm and flat. It was almost like he was explaining things to a child. “I’ve heard that love can make you do crazy things. Perhaps for her it was enough to be able to stay by the man that she loved for the rest of her life.”
Hermione tilted her head to one side as she considered what he had just said. If she was in love with someone would she be content just to be by their side even if it meant being in the shadow? Or would she rather have a real relationship with someone she may love a little less? Is love truly enough to sustain you your whole life? “I don’t know if I could live that way.”
“What way?”
“To feel hidden by the man I love. If I wanted to be with him I’d have to really be with him. I couldn’t just be hidden in the shadows, watching him be married to someone else and raising a family with them. If I was in love I’d want to be with them and be the only one with them. If they were to raise a family I’d want them to raise it with me.”
“That’s a romantic view of the world, Granger. But life isn’t made for romance. In order to survive you need to be based in reality.”
“Romance can exist in reality, Malfoy. It just doesn’t come as easy as indifference.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He shifted towards, placing a hand on her exposed knee. “How is being a romantic working out for you, Granger?”
Her gaze flickered down briefly to the paleness of the hand against her skin. “Why do you care so much?”
“Call me curious.”
“I don’t think being a romantic goes well or bad. Being a romantic is believing that one day you’ll end up with the person that you’re supposed to be with. It means that you believe life will hand you the best card it possibly can and that in the end everything will work out in your favor.”
His hand squeezed her knee gently, an almost amused smirk spreading across his face. “Seems like such a childish way to see things.”
“I find it to be a bit more like being optimistic than being childish to be honest.”
“Don’t you ever think that love can sometimes take the backburner to lust? Lust can be the most important thing sometimes. When you deny your lust sometimes it can be worse than not believing in love.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Malfoy. I understand lust.”
“Do you?” He moved then, sliding off of the seat. She was pretty positive he was playing a game with her but wasn’t that the whole point of this get together of his? To play games? “How much do you understand it?”
“You’ll have to figure that out all on your own, Malfoy. A girl can’t go revealing too much about herself.”
“I see. That sounded eerily like a challenge.”
“Me? Challenge you?”
“Why not? I challenge you constantly.” He stopped right in front of her, hand sliding slowly up her leg to rest on her inner thigh, squeezing gently. His face was close enough to hers that his breath was warm on her face. He smelled vaguely like spice and mint. “And I’m very much up for the challenge.”
“You’re always up for a challenge, aren’t you?”
“Most of the time, yes.” Then his mouth descended upon hers, warm and firm and insistent. Her immediate instinct was to pull back from him but if she was going to do well in this little game that he had set up she was going to have to learn to go beyond what she found comfortable. So instead of following her first instinct she kissed him back, allowing him to think she was falling into his little trap.
The hand on her thigh shifted, grasping her waist as the other hand came down to grasp the other side. Then he was sliding her back further on the bed, his body shifting to hover over hers. She was vaguely aware that the door was still open but she had no intention of letting him get too far in this little challenge anyway so she wasn’t exactly worried. And even if her friends saw she could always explain to them that this was part of the game and hope that they believed her.
The kiss deepened as his body pressed firmly against hers, pressing her down against the bed. His hands moved again, sliding down her legs, his nails scratching vaguely over her bare skin. Had this been anyone but Malfoy and had the situation been any different she was sure that she would find the whole situation rather erotic, but that wasn’t the case. Right now it was like getting a shot- you had to just suck it up and get through it.
His teeth tugged on her bottom lip and despite herself a small sound of appreciation crawled up her throat. Okay, so she could admit that despite it being Malfoy she was enjoying the attention. But she wasn’t about to let that change the fact that she just wanted to practice to win the game. So even as he tugged her lip into his mouth and sucked on it she made herself be quiet despite how good it felt.
Then his lips were traveling down across her cheek and down his neck, lips moving with confidence and yet being completely patient. For a moment she tilted her head slightly to the side, giving him better access to the sensitive skin of her throat. She started counting slowly, waiting for just the right time to make Malfoy stop. And then one of his hands slid back up her leg, slowly making its way up her inner thigh.
She curled her other leg as close to herself as she could, pushing him back from her slightly. She made sure he didn’t see it as a rejection, made it seem like she was just trying to change her position a bit and then she thrust her knee against his chest. The air rushed out of him and hit her throat in a sudden burst as he rolled off of her and onto the bed, hand pressing against the wounded area. He coughed a couple of times, wincing against the pain that shot through his chest as he did so.
But Hermione was feeling rather good as she sat up, adjusting her robe so it covered her much better than it was and slid off of the bed, slowly making her way over to her bag. “You seemed so sure before that I couldn’t play your little game, Malfoy.” Looking at him over her shoulder she smiled. “I guess you were wrong, weren’t you?”
Even as Malfoy’s face moved from looking like he were in pain to looking annoyed, his eyes narrowing into what resembled a glare she knew she had gotten him this time.
Hermione just smiled wider.