Referring to Hermione in his head - both, that night and the next, it was a testament to the efficacy of the Fero potion that not only had she survived such an intense mating, more extraordinarily, she was pregnant. As much as Draco felt disgusted with himself for what he had done to her it didn't in any way dampen his desire for her any time he recalled their coupling. Merlin, she had submitted to him so beautifully each time, he was desperate to find out what it would feel like to have it for real without any potions compromising their will. As he wistfully stared out the large windows towards the part of the caslte he knew she lay sound asleep in, Draco once again wished he was with her instead. The longer he stared the more he thought he could almost taste the alluring aroma that hung heavy in the air alone was that no other wolf would dare approach her while she carried his seed. Unbeknownst to her, he watched over her every day. While her pregnancy made her precious to the pack she was still an outsider, and their prisoner to boot. It was Draco, whose offspring she carried, who used whatever influence he had within the pack to ensure she had sanitary living conditions and warm meals. He also saw to it that her interactions were limited to the more docile female omegas so she'd feel less threatened and more at ease with her captivity. But for all he did for her, Draco did not yet dare to talk to her. His wolf whined, protesting the self-enforced distance, unable to comprehend she needed time to accept what had happened to her and even more time to accept him in any way. They didn't have the best history to start with, and with Draco forcing his child on her, he expected her to at least want to keep her distance if not outright kill him. Of course, thinking of her made his cock grow hard once more. Draco imagined he was thrusting into the dripping channel of the witch whose belly was already heavy with his child, not the newly turned were Fenrir had ordered him to fuck. He closed his eyes, trying to immerse himself further into his fantasy, but the smell- which was completely wrong- made it hard for him to enjoy her tight wet pussy. Prior to becoming a werewolf, Draco would've had no complaints about the female he was fucking- she was a fit blonde, with round tits and arse, any warm
Felt all over the place where her emotions were concerned- going from angry to sad, sad to irritated and then from irritated to giddy, all in the blink of an eye. Hermione looked at Malfoy expecting him to take his leave as well, but he remained rooted like he as waiting for something to take place. Hermione looked from Malfoy to Cora for an explanation, who in turn responded with a chuckle upon observing both, Malfoy's stance as well as the baffled look she wore. "He wants to confirm for himself that his pups are okay," Cora explained to Hermione. At her continued look of confusion the mediwitch added, "Just let him put his head to your belly so he can hear their hearts beating and put his mind at ease." "Is that possible, so soon?" Hermione asked bewildered with everything she was learning. "Absolutely, plus werewolves have excellent hearing so Draco should be able to hear it just fine if he pressed his ear to your belly." "Is that okay with you, Granger?" Malfoy asked her, looking like he fully expected her to refuse. "Uh, I guess?" said Hermione, feeling unsure but seeing no harm in doing so. Later that night, as she lay in bed waiting for sleep to come, it would occur to Hermione that at no point that day did she feel uneasy over the prospect of Malfoy, the man who by his own admission had played a role in her rape, touching her. "Thank you," said Malfoy, sitting at the edge of the bed and leaning forward to press his ear to her stomach. XXX Cora turned to briefly watch the couple as she quietly made her exit from her room, dragging a clueless Zoey with her. They were an odd pair, thought Cora, but believed there had to be
Elf like Dobby, who sacrificed his life helping Harry, Luna and Neville escape captivity, was beautiful. Confronted with a new version of Draco Malfoy, for the first time, Hermione found herself painting a picture of a man based solely on shallow appearances, and to her great shame she discovered she was attracted to what she saw. Hermione observed that while he didn't talk much, Draco would find excuses to touch her. Hermione pretended not to notice since the touches were fairly innocent anyway- his fingers brushing against hers, a hand offered in support lingering for longer than necessary, fingers grazing her neck while tucking away a stray curl. Hermione wasn't called the brighest witch for nothing, she could see what was happening- his werewolf instincts were making him more protective of her since she was carrying his children. And while he was turning out to be a far more pleasant companion than she could've imagined, she was still a prisoner and he a Death Eater, however disgraced. She didn't know how Draco had ended up a werewolf- whether he was punished for turning into a werewolf or punished by being turned into a werwolf- but, undoubtedly, he would've been disgraced; the people on his side of the war weren't exactly known for their tolerant attitude towards anyone not completely Pure. To Hermione Draco's situation made him the best candidate for an ally since he was already predisposed to protecting her. She recognized the need to encourage whatever was naturally developing between them so she could exploit it in the future to orchestrate her escape. In the beginning she was indifferent to him, but once aware of the sexual tension between them, it was hard for her hormonally charged body not to react with arousal to the hungry looks he gave her. She doubted he was aware of his effect on her but didn't think he would object to her lascivious thoughts involving him. However, it wasn't the thrill that shot through her when he'd give her a predatory grin that was a
