From Wiltshire, With Love

Chapter 66

Author's Note: There's a trigger warning associated with this chapter, see end notes for details if you'd like them.

Hermione had to go and warn them. Tonks first. She needed to tell Tonks.

Oh god! What if the spy were Tonks?

No. Draco would be dead if that were the case. She'd start with Tonks and they'd figure out where to go from there.

She tried to get up, but Draco pressed her shoulder back down with a flare of his nostrils. Startled, she sucked in a breath. What was he doing? Would he not let her go back? His fingers were starting to hurt; he was digging them hard into her shoulder.

Goosebumps spread up and down her spine. She needed her wand, but it was on the floor. Hermione strained her arm over the edge of the bed but couldn't reach it with the way he restrained her with his body.

"I can't leave them," Hermione protested, struggling under his weight. He wouldn't let her up. Terrified, she blinked up at him. His eyes hardened and he wouldn't move, trapping her underneath his body. "Draco?" She reached down on the side of the bed again, but her arm wasn't long enough to get her wand. "Draco," she pleaded, her heart racing. His mouth flattened in irritation. "I can't abandon everyone."

"You're not," Draco ground out. His face contorted in anger and her eyes widened apprehensively. He grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the bed next to her head. She tried to pull her hand out, but his grip tightened. "You are one person. Warn who you have to, let them take care of it and leave."

A jolt of adrenaline shot through her as the dangerous glint in his eye appeared.

Fuck.

It was coming.

She watched in dread as his muscles slowly tensed, and she remembered laying trapped on the floor of his home, horrified, when she thought he might curse her.

Hermione was still naked; he was mostly dressed and lying on top of her, trousers shoved down to his knees. The whole situation made her perversely excited, like when he had spanked her, but she squirmed underneath him, trying to get loose.

"Draco, it's me that 'takes care of it'," she explained, trying to keep her voice steady, struggling to get her hands free. "I'm the one that has to repurpose the Portkeys. I can't leave them."

"If you stay, I'm going to lose you." Draco squeezed his eyes shut, shaking, as if ready to explode. "Don't go back. Please."

"You've warned us. We can prepare. We have some time," Hermione tried to mollify him, sounding more confident than she felt.

Draco looked to the side. "Fucking dammit," he spat, and pushed himself off of her to sit on the bed.

She exhaled in relief. He wouldn't hold her against her will. Of course he wouldn't do that.

Hermione's bare body was suddenly cold at the loss of his heat, and despite the momentary fear, she still felt empty where he had been thrusting inside of her.

Draco pulled his trousers up over his bum and reached into his pocket. "I knew you wouldn't leave," he cursed harshly to himself. "Here, take this." He extracted a small, brown pouch and held it out to her.

"What is it?" Hermione pushed herself up to sit next to him, still feeling vulnerable and exposed in the face of his anger.

"A Portkey to one of our summer villas in the south of France. We haven't been there since the Dark Lord returned." She took the pouch out of his hand and wrapped her fingers around it. It was round, and heavy for its size. Probably metal. Draco continued, "Don't stay there though. As soon as you arrive, go to the main gate and Apparate outside. I don't know where you'd stay but at least you won't be here. I'll come for you after the raid."