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  • Published: 22 Jun 2016
  • Updated: 22 Jun 2016
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Then she grew, and he saw her blonde ringlets upon her head, which fell below her shoulders, standing in front of a near pew. He was struck for a moment as she stood; ready to leave the ceremony with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing light blue dress robes that molded to her body. He felt breathless as he stared at the girl, so young, so delicate. One-shot


1. Ravishing



By Domm


Her beauty had taken him by surprise. Long ago she was a little girl prancing about delicately after the ceremony dedicated to the anniversary of the Second Wizarding War, her small, blonde curls flailing about. He never paid her much attention then or even bothered to learn who she was.


Then she grew, and he saw her blonde ringlets upon her head, which fell below her shoulders, standing in front of a near pew. He was struck for a moment as she stood; ready to leave the ceremony with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing light blue dress robes that molded to her body. He felt breathless as he stared at the girl, so young, so delicate. Closing his eyes and biting on his bottom lip he thrust himself back into reality: he was a married man with a son.


His thoughts circulated on her as she stood with her family, parents, brother, another teal-haired boy and a sister who did not match her untainted beauty. When she was alone by the snack table, no one around her to care, he was finally able to introduce himself as he stared into those doe eyes, imagining her naked and fragile in his arms as those bright, blue eyes pierced through him.


It was wrong, but she had already caught him in her trap. He was able to hold onto her hand as she stared up at him, and finally revealed her name.


"My name is Dominique, Mr. Malfoy," she addressed.


"Draco, please," he insisted, and so she listened and said his name the way he wanted her to, the way he wanted her to cry out his name at night. But, yet he still had a wife and a son.


The two of them stood there, speaking. Draco, about his life, and she spoke of her dreams to visit Paris or even to live there one day. She spoke in French to him, and he did not know what the words she spoke so fluently meant, but instead adored listening to the sound of her sweet, angelic voice.


Then she asked, "All of these ceremonies, remembrances have got me wondering, a question no one's ever spoken to me about. When a war ends, what does that look like exactly?"


"Darkness and despair after loss is all that's left," he replied after a moment. "There are orphans, single parents, lost lovers and dead children. But you live on, try to repair the world. Some are punished, others are liberated."


All she did was nod as she pondered the war, a girl who had always desired to experience it. As she looked up at the greying man she wondered of his torture, his pain, and his loss. She chose to hold and squeeze his hand.


He stared down at her, shocked at the possibility that she might reciprocate his feelings which were, oh, so wrong. She was only seventeen, and he, a married thirty-seven year old man who had seen too much.


But that did not stop her from leading him out of the Great Hall and away from the crowded celebration. Draco did not know how broken this girl was on the inside and only admired her beauty on the outside. He did not know of her loss, her jealousy and her spite, only believing in a beautiful girl, taking him away from an awful marriage.


She whispered in his ear, "Take me away."


And so he did, leading her into Hogsmeade and checking them into the Three Broomsticks, earning a disapproving shake of the head from old Madam Rosmerta. When they were inside their room, he closed the door sharply behind them, holding her arms and looking into her bright, blue doe eyes.


"Why?" he asked. "Why do you want me?"


"Why not?" she said in return as her hands held onto his waist.


With that sign of permission, he pushed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers, her heaving breasts against the bottom of his chest. Slowly he leaned closer, their breath mingling, before his lips finally graced her plump and eager ones. He sucked gently on her bottom lip as his grip against her tightened. She tasted like temptation, and before he knew it, Draco was lost in her. She was drawing him to her again and again, not allowing him to stop, and not even allowing Astoria or his son to appear in his mind. Her hands went to his head, running her delicate fingers through his hair, and Draco could not believe that this girl, who was once so little, could be as tainted as he was.


She edged him off of the wall and pushed him down on the bed. She climbed on top of him, letting him drown in her kisses as he turned her over, a married man slipping into his desire.


He awoke the next morning, with the naked girl sleeping soundly next to him, the bed covers just barely concealing her breasts, which Draco, much to his chagrin, desired to see once more. He sat up in bed, hearing its creak. He wanted to throw himself against the wall, unable to come to terms of what he had done. He was a married man!


He leapt out of the bed and threw his clothes back on as he gazed at the girl's curls that his hands had ran through before, claiming her.


She stirred in her sleep, and Draco's heart pounded against his chest furiously reminding him of his unwavering guilt.. He found himself unable to move from his position as she began to stretch out her limbs. Her eyes finally opened, and, instantly, they met his grey ones.


"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have," she muttered desperately after a moment, a pleading look in her eyes.


"No, I'm sorry," he said to her as the worry in her eyes became more and more clear. She sat up in the bed, and gathered the covers around her thin body.


She bit her lip nervously as she looked around. Finally, her eyes landed on their discarded clothing, which still lingered on the ground.


"I don't love you, I love someone else," she whispered, her head bowed in shame. "I used you, and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, it's not like me, really."


Draco did not know what he was feeling as a lump came to his throat.


"Fine!" he spat, unused to the strange pulsing in his heart. "I used you as well, just, just pretend that didn't happen!"


"I don't want to," she murmured. "It happened. And I'm sorry."


"Damn you!" Draco yelled, throwing his hands in the air, revealing his half-dressed body. "I'm the one who's married!"


"Damn me!?" she screeched, leaving the bed and beginning to put her clothes on. "Damn you! You should have known better as a married man! Complain about how messed up I am, sure! But I didn't do anything that morally wrong!"


Once clothed she walked straight up to him, her eyes like daggers and her gaze steadfast.


"Yes, damn you," Draco snarled.


"Fine!" Dominique yelled as Draco took hold of her arms once more. He whipped her around and pressed her against the wall. Her breathing once more became heavy.


"Damn you," Draco said through gritted teeth as he bent down and claimed her lips with his own, trapped and spiraling down, with Astoria far from his mind.


 Little one-shot, I will not continue this, it's just a scene that happend and I wanted to share it with you guys. I know, age difference but who cares? Dominique Weasley Néé-Delacour and Draco Lucius Malfoy are quite an ordinairy couple, if I may say so. LOL.

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