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Dolores found her husband snoring on the sofa when she popped into their new house that evening. She had been doing a bit of shopping with the money he had given her, and she was feeling decidedly satisfied with her purchases. Humming tunelessly, she padded past him to set a new cat-shaped vase on the mantel, and then she magically lit a fire in the cold fireplace before she moved onward toward the kitchen as her parcel floated along behind her.
Goyle opened one eye experimentally to see if she was gone before rolling over to take another pull from a flask he had hidden under one of the cushions of the sofa. He smacked his lips with contentment and settled onto the pillow again.
"I saw that," Dolores said in a sing-song voice as she continued humming in the other room.
Pulling a face, Goyle put his hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling until she came into view above him. Then he plastered on a smile to hide his frustration, and he reached up and tried to take ahold of her hand.
"Goyle, you git, why are you forever trying to touch me?" she asked with a shake of her head, half exasperated and half amused.
"Because I mean to seduce you, my dear," he said. "What's the point in having a wife you can't even bed? That's like going to a battle and never taking out your wand. Where's the fun in that?"
"You know you agreed to-"
"Yes, but that was then, and this is now," he said as he sat up and gave her a sly look. "If you intend to deal with devils, woman, you've got to learn to think the way they do. I'm a barmy git, to be sure, but I'm as sly as they come. Do you really think I meant it when I told you I'd be good? I'm a man, aren't I? That alone should make you know better. Now, you could do one of two things about it, if you ask me. Either give over and let me ravish you, or spend a lot of your nights finding new and inventive ways to keep me at bay. Which one's it going to be?"
Blushing hotly, Dolores tried to reclaim her hand, which she realized he had finally gotten ahold of. "We don't have time for such nonsense," she blustered, not looking at him as he held her hand fast and used it to pull her onto the couch beside him. "We've got to figure out how to get inside the Ministry. Have you contacted the committees about meeting tomorrow night as I instructed?"
"Of course I did, you daft woman," he scoffed. "But that means there's nothing for us to do tonight other than enjoy each other's company."
"Let me go, you great oaf!" she grumbled as his arm slid around her back to draw her into the curve of his body. His lips began to graze her ear, and she shuddered in surprise, trying to pull away. "Stop that!"
"Aw, come on, Dolores, you know you want to," he chided her. "I just want to make you feel good. Don't you like to feel good sometimes?"
"I-I-well, hey-"
Goyle laid her onto the couch and lay on top of her, his lips making a hot trail down her throat. She started to push him off, but then gasped in surprise as his fingers slid inside the front of her dress and found things to play with.
"Hmm, see, that feels good, doesn't it?" he teased her. "Why don't you let your husband find out if there are any other spots you like played with, like a good little dictator-to-be?"
Dolores, her face gone red with embarrassment and a certain degree of interest, could do nothing more than nod her agreement to this plan. Perhaps she might have just a little bit of time for such things after all.
"What's that you're reading, Tom?" Hermione asked curiously as she stepped into the living room and saw him sitting there with his jaw half way down to his knees. He looked up, surprised to see her, and then gave her a devilish grin.
"You're never going to believe this, my dear," he said. "Not in a million years."
"Believe what?" Hermione grumbled, coming to take the parchment from his hands. She read the missive, and then reread it just to make certain her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. "McGonagall is going to marry Hagrid?"
"That's what the thing says," he chuckled, and then pulled his wife into his lap without further delay. "I wonder if they'll have table dancing at their wedding. I wouldn't mind seeing my sweet little wife perform a table dance for me. I don't think you'd be putting our child in danger, seeing as you're not too far along as yet."
"Have you gone mental after all?" she scoffed. "I'm not getting up and dancing on a table."
"Aw, why not, sweetheart?" he asked with a chuckle. "Would you do it if I got up on the table with you?"
"Nope, not happening," she told him, trying to escape from his grasp. Tom laughed as he held her fast, and began to suckle along the side of her neck. He knew full well he was marking her with little red love bites, and she swatted at him, trying to get him to stop. "You're incorrigible, Tom Riddle! Let me go!"
"Never," he said as his lips found hers again. "I will never, ever let you go. You must know that by now, surely?"
"I did get that impression," she teased him, leaning into his kiss as his hands began a quest. His thumbs danced along her sensitive nipples, and then he slid his hands downward to rub her belly. The proud smile on his face made Hermione's heart begin to race as she watched him. "What are you doing, silly?"
"Hello in there? Can you hear your daddy yet?" he called against her belly.
"I'm not even three months yet, you git," Hermione reminded him.
"So? This is our baby," he reminded her. "He's bound to be able to do some extraordinary things, with us for parents. How do you know he can't hear me?"
"How do you know he is a he?" she inquired with a giggle. "She could well be a she."
"No, this one is a boy," he insisted.
"You say that like you're planning on making more of them," she teased him.
"Of course I am, my dear," he said with a smile. "Now, up, up, up, we need to get dressed so we can go meet Harry and Ginny for their wedding rehearsal."
"I can't believe Harry Potter actually asked you to be his best man," Hermione said for about the tenth time since he'd first told her. "That is just too bloody amazing."
"Well, love, we've become fast friends now that we're working on the same team," Tom told her with a pleased smile. "I'm actually looking forward to the event, to tell you the truth. Their wedding will be yet another example of what we've been working for."
"Blended blood," Hermione said with a nod. "Yes, Harry's mother was a Muggle, so he's a half-blood, same as you. I wonder just how much interest his wedding will catch once people find out about you being a member of its party. For all we know, those pure-bloods might even attack."
"Not to worry, Hermione," he said. "We will have plenty of witches and wizards willing to cast the spells needed to keep out the undesirables. There won't be any wedding crashers at this party."
Hermione chuckled, earning her a curious look. "Oh, sorry," she said. "I was just imagining the great Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters keeping out wedding crashers. Don't mind me."
"Woman-" he began, and then he burst out into laughter along with her. "Do you know how much I needed you in my life?"
"As much as I needed you?" she inquired sweetly.
Without another word, Tom drew his wife into his arms and Apparated the two of them to their bedroom. Hermione did not complain about this in the least, of course, for their banter could have had no other possible outcome, considering how much the pair desired each other.
"Mmm, you're so sweet," Tom whispered into her hair. "I could taste you all day long."
Hermione chuckled at this, and brazenly said, "Then why don't you?"
"Is that what you want?" he asked, the fire in his eyes heating her up nicely. Tom tossed Hermione into the middle of the bed and then straddled her, leaning down to administer soft kisses until she sighed into his mouth. "You want me to taste you, sweetheart?"
"Please," she whispered ardently as she began working at the buttons on his shirt. When she was done, he pulled his arms out, leaving the undershirt beneath. Her fingers were already peeling it away before he'd even finished, and he yanked it over his head with a flourish, tossing the thing aside.
"This thing?" he clarified as his hand slid down her body to play with her, pushing at the fabric that covered her folds.
"That's the one," she answered huskily, and he leaned down to kiss her again before he plied kisses all down her body, uncovering her breasts to bite at her nipples, delving his tongue into her belly button, and finally sliding her pants out of the way and tasting her. Hermione groaned with delight at his urgency as he worked her quickly into a frenzy.
"I want you so much, love," he told her then.
Hermione's hands freed his hardened member as quickly as she could. It was difficult, since they seemed to be trembling, and Tom's hands came down to cover hers, lending some stability as she finished. No sooner had she pulled him free of his clothing than he plunged into her, not bothering to get rid of his pants completely before taking his prize.
"Yes!" she breathed, pulling at him. She couldn't seem to hold him close enough, such was her need to have him near.
"My sweet little wife," he breathed into her hair. "My sweet, beautiful little witch! How could I have lived a whole lifetime without someone as sweet as you?"
"I love you, Tom," she told him, turning his face so he was looking into her eyes. "So much."
"I love you, too," he said, then they pounded together fervently, reveling in the feel of each other, the taste and the scent. Tom called out Hermione's name as he came inside her, and groaned it again as the walls of her sweet hole caressed him as she, too, found her release.
Both of them sweaty and exhausted from their exertions, it didn't take long for them to drift off to sleep. Hermione sighed contentedly, wrapped in the warmth of her husband's arms. It wasn't until about half an hour later that either of them remembered they were supposed to be getting dressed, rather than undressed, at the moment.
"Do you think they'd notice if we didn't show up?" Tom asked as they exchanged a look that spoke without any words being needed.
"Yeah, right," Hermione grumbled. "Ginny wouldn't forget a thing like that, even if Harry did."
"Well, I guess we'd better go, then, hm?"
"I'll have another go," Hermione teased him, and giggled at the interest that sparked in his eyes.
"Maybe we could tell them we forgot how to Apparate," Tom suggested, his hands already working their magic yet again. "Or, we could tell them we took a trip to Mars--"
"Shut up and kiss me, you fool," Hermione chuckled. "It's perfectly acceptable to be fashionably late, right?"
"Good," Tom said. "Let's show up next week."
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