Work Text:
Tears in the Storm
AU: This story takes place in an AU after the war, In this story Ron and Hermione are no longer together. The broke up after the war, because it was all too much. Everyone in the Golden trio went their separate ways, not that they didn’t still love each other, because they did, but right now seeing each other was too much of a painful reminder. Hermione went back to Hogwarts to finish out her 7th year. There, she threw herself into her studies. Meanwhile Draco floundered. Then one day Draco and Hermione came upon each other in a pub by chance. So much had changed. So much was different between them. But it opened up the chance for so much more.
As she flew home, Hermione ruminated on just how much her life had changed over the past several months. When she’d met Draco that day in the pub, just over seven months ago, he had looked different. He was no longer the cocky little jerk she remembered from school, in fact looking up his eyes looked... haunted. A direct reflection of hers she’d realized at the time. He’d asked her to sit down and have a drink with him. Even now, she wasn’t sure why she had agreed to it. Maybe it was because she'd recognized the loneliness emanating from him. But she’d sat down. He was different now she saw.
Oh, he was still arrogant, but the anger and the violence had gone out of him, leaving a lost boy in its wake. The first night they’d talked for hours draining stein after stein of butterbeer. They had talked about everything, the war, adjusting to life after it. She told him about going back to Hogwarts and encouraged him to go back too. He had shared with her how listless and restless he felt now. He’d asked if they could meet again and she’d almost demurred, but something about the catch in his voice had made her stop, and reconsider. The need on his face was so naked, she wondered if it had been loneliness hiding deep within him all along. So, they met the next night. This time it was over dinner, and the next and the next after that. At first, they were just talking, barely even mates, just two people who understood each other having both gone through the same horrible experience.
Slowly though, a tenuous friendship had begun to blossom between them. Despite all his arrogance, when he wasn’t being full of himself, Draco was actually a really good problem solver. Maybe it was the war, but he had turned out to be a better listener than she’d expected. More than once, she’d complained to him about one small thing or another, and he had poured her a cup of tea and just listened…of all things he had bloody listened. One day when she had been particularly stressed, he’d simply reached out and wrapped his arms around her, at first, she had been surprised, so surprised in fact, that she had not even been able to hug him back and had just stood there stiffly in his arms. He held on until she’d finally went limp and leaned into him, her head against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat, and she was shocked to feel her stress melting away
After that day things had been different…and they’d slowly started spending more time together, talking even more, sharing even more. So, when a week or two later, he’d leaned over and kissed her, it had felt as natural as stars in the night sky. They had been dating for almost six months when he’d asked her to move in.
At first, she had been hesitant, as much as she needed and loved the people in her life, she was fiercely independent. It was in her nature. It was who she was. Finally, though, she’d relented. Moving in together had been easier than she’d thought. In some ways he was as annoying as any muggle boy, leaving his socks on the floor, and burping loudly and proudly just to show off, much to her irritation. But he was also sweet, and anytime she came home tired he would just say “incendio” with a flick of his wand towards the fireplace and would send her slippers floating towards her. For her part, she always listened to him and encouraged him. She had never realized how much self-doubt had been hiding beneath the arrogant façade. Somehow, they fit together and grew into each other better than she could have ever imagined. Life post war was good, better than she had expected, and somehow the two of them fit each other’s missing pieces.
The first time he had punished her it had been when she’d stayed up for two days straight in preparation for exams. He had waited until she was done and then asked her to come sit down. She had thought he was going to pour her a glass a wine, pour both of them a glass of wine and toast to her hard work and success. Instead, he’d looked at her very seriously, “Hermione Granger,” he’d said. “When is the last time you slept.”
“Oh really, Draco!” She’d snapped, “You’ve seen the pressure I was under, like I had any time to sleep.” She could not help sounding a bit like the old Hermione, the one who used to boss Harry and Ron around and nag them to study, and for a minute it had felt good almost like coming home. But she had stopped short when she saw the expression on Draco’s face.
“You need to sleep.” He’d said firmly. Maybe if she had just relented and agreed it would never would have happened. He would have cuddled her and sent her to bed, he probably would have even come with her, but no. She’d just had to be obstinate. So instead, the night had ended with him taking her over his knee. Despite her protests, his guilt trip had worn her down. He’d talked about how much he cared about her, and how brilliant she was, and how much he needed her in his life, couldn’t she see what she was doing to herself? “ As the smacks fell, she had given in to tears, fueled by a mixture of exhaustion, guilt, and pain. Once it was over, he had marched her to the corner, with skirt rolled up, her bright red backside on full display. She should have been angry. She should have shouted at him to stop this nonsense at once.
But somehow, she couldn’t. As she stood there, her nose in the corner, she’d had been completely and utterly shocked to find herself feeling…relieved. As strange and painful as it had been, it also felt like a huge weight had been lifted. She had let out a deep sigh, releasing the guilt. Draco was right, she’d been doing a rubbish job at taking care of herself, and him, she’d realized belatedly, biting her lip. Afterwards, he had collected her from the corner, and just cradled her in his arms. She had sagged into them apologizing. “It’s alright love,” he’d said with a cheeky smirk “My hand will be here any time you need a little help. He’d patted her still tender bottom through her skirt and planted a kiss on her forehead. Her faced had blushed as red as her backside, both sets of cheeks glowing as he held her.
Their relationship had changed even more after that, much to her surprise, they had become even closer. He had punished her one or two other times since that day, but also liked to smack her playfully. The problem was she liked it all more than she’d ever thought. There was something oddly relieving about letting go, and letting Draco take charge, and just giving in. Occasionally it occurred to her to wonder what was wrong with her, a grown woman, accepting *discipline* from her boyfriend, and allowing him to smack her in bed. Mostly though, she was just happy and at peace. Happier than she had been in years. After the stress of so many years before it was nice now for the first time in a long time to just live
That had been several months ago. Now she stepped inside she shook the excess rain off her coat and boots. She knew she could cast a drying spell, but even after all these years, so many of her muggle habits remained ingrained in her. As she entered, she was surprised to find Draco waiting for her, not with a glass of wine or open arms, but with a stern, angry expression on his face. Startled she looked up, her softer eyes meeting his icy ones
“Draco?” she asked, “What’s wrong honey?” Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What is the meaning of this she asked” her voice faltering. Truth be told, she knew what was wrong, and why Draco was so upset. Since it was now second semester of her 7th year, she was still a student, but she was also a TA for Professor McGonagall. Yesterday afternoon while she was in class, a violent storm had blown in with gale force winds and treacherous conditions that were no good for flying. The storm had raged on for so long that Professor McGonagall had invited her to stay overnight.
“There is plenty of room in my quarters.” she assured the girl. Hermione had agreed, as much out of fear of flying home in the treacherous conditions as excitement over the chance to spend some more time with Professor McGonagall. The woman had become so much of a mentor to Hermione and had taken her under her wing. She relished the chance to spend time with her and share a little bit about her life and learn from the older woman’s wisdom. They had eaten dinner together in the Great Hall, and for a moment it had felt like old times. She could almost see the ghosts of herself, Ron and Harry running through the hall together with reckless abandon and joy, like they had in those early years.
She also wanted to go over some of the new theories she had been studying with Professor McGonagall. By the time she had remembered Draco, the storm was even worse, She couldn’t send an owl out in that, she just couldn’t. It was hailing now, and everyone was being warned not to go outside except for in cases of extreme emergency. Guiltily, she put down the scroll she had been about to send the small brown owl with, and patted the creature’s head. “Never mind, she told it. It’s not safe for you out there tonight.” and the owl, gave a small grateful hoot in response. Draco would just have to understand. She was sure he would figure it out. He knew she didn’t like to fly in inclement weather.
The night passed peacefully while the two women read together silently enjoying cup after cup of tea. As the storm raged outside, the fire crackled comfortably.
When it had been time to go to bed Professor McGonagall had made up the couch for her, and Hermione had slept peacefully under the plus red and yellow blanket.
If she had been thinking properly, Hermione would have owled Draco that morning explaining everything and apologizing for not getting word to him in time last night. But she hadn’t been thinking, her mind had been on her classes and everything else. She didn’t even think of it until it was time to go home again. Then her stomach had dropped Draco, oh no.
Now here she stood before him, her face flushing guiltily, “
"Draco, honey, let me explain. The storm was so bad, and Professor McGonagall invited me to stay, I was going to owl you, but the weather got so bad, I just couldn’t send the poor creatures out in that terrible storm, I couldn’t, I was afraid they wouldn’t be able to make it back.” He cut her off.
“No.” he said. She looked down.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” his face normally pale was almost gray with worry. “I spent hours last night out in the storm looking for you. I thought you would fly home, and I knew how much you hate flying in bad weather. Then when I couldn’t find you, I thought you had crashed or gotten hurt or something.” He sounded so wounded; it pierced her heart.
Hermione hung her head, her defenses gone. “I should have found a way to get a message to you, I should have owled you in the morning, but honestly, Draco, I just forgot I was so busy, trying to test out a new spell, and then trying to help the first years, I got completely distracted. I’m sorry”
“Not as sorry as you are going to be young lady” he said. taking her hand in his he kissed it, “I am very glad you are alright, but I afraid your bottom is going to have to pay the price for your lack of thought.”
She nodded. Guilt flooding her like a wave. Her heart pounded and she feel the blood rushing in her ears. Slowly, Draco came over to her and led her to the couch. He sat, and then, tugging on her hand He guided her over his lap, and she had the strange sensation of falling. But she knew she was safe as he wrapped his arm securely around her waist, well everything except her bottom anyway she conceded. He lifted her skirt, tucking the hem carefully into the waistband, and then slowly lowered her knickers. Almost unconsciously, she gave a little shiver, the cool air reminding her of just how hot her bottom was going to be in a few minutes.
Draco raised his hand and began to smack. Over and over his hand fell warming her backside, first one cheek than the other. As a spanker Draco was incredibly thorough. He peppered her entire backside and even the tops of her thigh with solid resounding smacks, As, he did he began to lecture
“Are you ever going to stay out at night like that without telling me.” He punctuated the last few words of his sentence with one smack each.
“Ooof!” she cried out, scissoring her legs, “Draco, ow! Not so hard!”
He ignored her and continued to let the blows fall, inundating her now pinkening bottom with smacks. “Do you know how worried I was?” Two more blows fell directly on her sitspots, and she jumped involuntarily. Thoughts of him scared and wet, out looking for her in the storm filled her mind, and she buried her head, guilt overwhelming her as the smacks continued to fall.
“Ooh! Ouch! I’m sorry” her voice was beginning to show signs of distress now, and though she was not crying, her face was almost as red as her bottom. And still his blasted hand kept falling. “Are you going to be a good girl , now ?” he asked, taking hold of her ponytail. He tugged, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough so that he knew he had her attention.
“Yes!” she almost shouted, she was so desperate for the assault on her backside to stop.
“Good” he said. With a final flurry of five swats, he stopped. She let out a shaky breath, and he softly rubbed her back, and her bottom, as her breathing returned to normal. Slowly she started to get up, but he stopped her.
“We are not quite done pet,” he said. “I want you to wait right there for a minute. She nodded. Her face still red, rubbing her bottom gently to soothe smarting burn. When he returned, less than a minute later, he had three things in his hand. A scroll, a pen & ink, and a slipper...? Hermione looked up at him questioningly.
Alright, he said. His voice sterner now, your punishment is not quite over, I want you to bend over for me.” he guided her in place directing “That’s right, he said encouragingly.”
She looked at him aghast. “You’re going to use that on me?” He usually only used his hand, which was enough. And once, he had used a hairbrush on her, that had been awful and had stung like the dickens. But the slipper? Even her parents hadn’t used that on her. She looked up at him apprehensively.
“Yes, pet” he kissed her softly on the cheek “Now bend over for me, and put your hands on the sofa, “there’s a good girl.”
She bent over, her hands on the cushion, her breath catching.
Thwack! The blow came hard and fast. “Ooh!” she squealed.
Two more blows fell in succession. "
Keep still pet, he said, we’ve got a ways to go yet. Some of his old cheek had returned. He sounded bossier, more commanding. Even through her pain this made Hermione feel a little bit better. At least his voice didn’t sound so worried now. He didn’t even sound angry anymore. He just sounded like himself. That was the catalyst she needed. Fat tears started falling down her face.
Again, the slipper fell, lower this time, its hard sole catching the tops of her thighs where they met her backside.
Without meaning to, she jumped up yelling, stomping her feet furiously.
Draco’s voice was not cold, but it was commanding. “Get back into position” we are not through yet. Sniffling she nodded.
“I-I ‘m sorry.”
“I know you are. Now get back over. “
Steeling her nerves she got back into position.
Three more sharp blows two to the very center of her backside and one on the right side. She could not see it, but she was sure her backside was bright red. It was throbbing and felt twice it’s normal size.
The last three went directly to her thighs, and she could not help but let out another yell. And mercifully it was done.
She paused, sensing that the spanking had stopped but not sure what to do. Suddenly Draco was behind her, pulling up her knickers and lowering her skirt. She shuddered a little, and suddenly felt his arms around her. Gripping her tightly, her pulled her into a giant hug. Still crying, but a little more softly now. She leaned into his muscular chest, his arms providing the warmth she needed. He squeezed her tenderly, resting his chin on top of her head, the two of them lost in their own little world.
Finally, he pulled away, “You alright, pet?” he asked? ‘ Shyly, Hemione nodded.
“Good.” He said.
“I’m sorry.” She murmured, burrowing back into his chest. “ I didn’t mean to worry you! When I think of you out there in that awful storm,” her voice caught. “It’s alright, now love, you don’t have to be so distressed” He held her again, his hand rubbing soothing circles up and down her back.
“Alright,” he said, “I have one more thing I need you to do for me.” He picked up the scroll and pen. She looked at him with confusion.
He cocked one eyebrow at her. “Since your transgression was a schoolgirl transgression, I think it needs a schoolgirl punishment. “I want to you to take this and write for me 100x “I will let my boyfriend know where I am at all times for my own safety.”
Flushing, Hermione nodded and took the scroll and pen. But as she sat down, her backside still twinging from the pain, she dipped the pen in the ink and started writing, she reflected on how childish she certainly felt, but she also felt something else.
She felt loved.