Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I would not be writing this. In fact, I wouldn't be writing at all. I'd be taking a nap on my private island.

The Alpha and Omega

Chapter One: Sex and Wands

There are those who would consider this rape. That thought fluttered through the mind of the blonde haired boy… man… he still wasn't sure what to call himself. He'd been a servant of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named for a time, and he was a servant to his father, a slave to his father's will. But, now his father was in Azkaban, and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was dead and gone. (Good riddance.) So, what was he? A boy? Or a man?

The woman in front of him, bound and gagged might have an opinion. She was filled with his length as he rocked back and forth. She quivered around him, jerking in those little ways that whispered of the coming orgasm. Had she not been gagged, she might well have been begging for release. Still the boy kept up his relentless motions.

"You dirty little bitch," Draco said. "Mrs. Hermione Weasley sneaking around her husbands back to have a little fun. If you were my wife… I'd kill you."

Draco moved his hand, took hold of a wad of Hermione's mousey brown hair and twisted. She gasped as her hair pulled taught against her scalp, and Draco yanked, forcing her back to arch, forcing her to come ever closer as he moved inside of her, faster and faster, and faster.

The twitching, the pulsations increased around his hardened member. He could feel his own orgasm rising inside him, but he wasn't ready. He pushed it back down.

"Did I give you permission to come?" Draco whispered into Hermione's ear. Her eyelids were at half mast, and her pupils were dilated as far as they could go. She moaned under the gag. Tried to make some sense out of the sounds she could managed. Draco didn't understand any of it.

Draco pushed, hard, driving Hermione's face all the way to the hard wood floor. There was a heavy thunk, but the moans continued. What he assumed were requests to come kept falling from Hermione's entwined lips. He kept pushing. Harder. Harder. He could feel the rocket in her head, waiting to explode, and his matched hers.

"You may come," Draco said. It didn't take a second for the command to sink into Hermione. Her body began to buck. Back arching. Toes curling. Tears of unadulterated joy streaming down her face. She gave one final shudder, and collapsed beneath Draco.

Draco smiled and kept going. He felt her final shuddering twitches around his length and let himself explode. Pleasure in it's purest form washed through him. He found he couldn't keep his balance on his knees anymore, and crumpled to the floor beside Hermione.

He took one hand, and brushed one of her bangs to the side. He looked into her eyes, and saw satisfaction.

"Has Ron ever given that to you?"

Hermione shook her head no, and Draco couldn't help but smile. He untied the gag, and pulled it away from Hermione. Her breaths were still ragged, still ripped from the throws of passion.

"Ron's never come that close," Hermione said in fits and starts. "My god he's never been that close at all."

"It's a good thing you know where to come…when you need to come." Draco sniggered at his put as he slipped the filled condom off and eliminated it with his wand. He pointed the wand at Hermione's bonds, and they fell to the floor, before glowing a bright gold and vanishing.

Hermione stretched, arching her back, and spreading both arms out to either side. The twinges and tingles of sleep had to be rushing up and down her forearms. It had been almost an hour since those bonds were put in place. Draco was surprised they didn't have to do anything special to return the blood flow. Hermione blinked twice, and yawned.

"You're tired," Draco said. "You should stay the night in my bed."

Draco pointed to the old bed, a king sized affair by modern standards, with nineteenth century wizardry design posts.

Hermione looked at the bed, then back at Draco. "I really need to get back tonight. I don't want Ron to worry."

Draco sighed.

"When is it that we won't have that problem standing before us?" Draco shook his head, and stood up. He grabbed his wand and called a red sweatshirt to him and a pair of grey slacks. "When is it, Hermione, that we won't have to stand in the dark? I tire of it."

Hermione sighed. "I don't want to break his heart."

Draco made a dismissive noise and started for the door to his study. He stopped and looked back. "At least take a nap. I don't want you riding a damn portkey back half asleep."

Hermione nodded, and after pulling on her grub clothes, climbed into the bed.

Draco watched it, made another dismissive noise, and walked out of the room and into his study. He picked his wand up, and pointed it at the old style phonograph he kept in the corner. He had business to attend too.

:***:

"We found the remains," The voice was distant and dreamy, far away from where she lay, but Hermione couldn't push them away. They seemed to haunt her. They meant something important, but she couldn't put two and two together.

So, she let herself rise, waking in an unfamiliar bed, and one she identified only a moment later. It was Draco's bed. The woodwork of the post and the head board told a simple story, and Hermione followed it with ease.

The story, told of an aging wizard who feared death, he wanted to become immortal, but refused, outright, the idea of creating horcruxes. Instead he sought out a wand maker. The maker made a wand that could drain the life force of the most powerful magical creatures. The aging wizard swore never to use the wand on another wizard, but hunted down dragons, giants, anything with a modicum of magical energies. But, still the wizard fell. He was stabbed, shot, poisoned, and drowned, then his remains were burnt and scattered to prevent the wizard from ever coming back. It didn't say what happened to the wand.

"Good," Draco said. "How are the preparations for the spell going?"

Hermione crawled out of bed, and crept closer to the door, closer to where Draco's study was located. The door was ajar, just a little, just enough to let the voices come through. Fear filled her. A part of her anyway. How much horror did a door standing ajar contain?

But, Draco was beyond that door. There's nothing to be afraid of, except for the possibility of him finding her. She still had bruises from the last punishment she received, bruises that had been hard to explain to Ron.

"We're still gathering the proper materials," the distant voice said. Now that she could hear it properly, the voice sounded like it was being played off a record. "And, the alchemical circle is a difficult one to master."

"That's why I sent Edward," Draco said. His voice was rough and irritated. Peaking through the door, Hermione could see him standing hunched over a small table in the corner. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edges, and his hair was mussed. Hermione couldn't see his face.

"He's supposed to be an alchemical master, second only to Nicolas Flamel."

"he says he's never done one quite like this, sir," the scratchy voice replied.

Draco sighed, a deep one for someone his age. "Alright," Draco said. "When he get's it completed make sure he's paid well."

"Yes, sir," There was a half snigger from the man with the scratchy voice. Draco straightened up, backed away from the table, and pointed his wand at it. A soft blue glow fled from the phonograph and back into the wand. Draco started to turn around.

Hermione decided it was time to get back in bed. She ran, but made sure not to make any sound. Anything might give her eavesdropping away, and she didn't want the punishment for that. She didn't want to feel fear ever again. Not around Draco. He was supposed to be safe now.

She had a lot to think about.

The door creaked open a little further, and Draco stood in the doorway. She felt his eyes on her. He was just watching her sleep.