Several chapters of Dramione one-shots and drabble. Very fluffy.
Story 1 (Sleepy Time Talk) : Takes place during Hermione's 8th year at Hogwarts post war.
Under the pretense of Head Girl duties, Hermione Granger is walking along the corridors, her fingers trailing lightly along ridges in the wall. Her wand is lighting the way, but it's clear her wandering doesn't have a way.
A scuffle in the opposite direction makes her turn in a complete 360, wand at the ready, heart beating quickly. Directly in front of her stands Draco Malfoy, his white-blond hair glowing in the darkness.
"Malfoy," Hermione hisses, surprised. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
He smirks and raises a blonde eyebrow. "Why, Granger, I could ask you the same question."
She sighs, letting her guard down. There had been too much fighting and too much hate for her to harbor a grudge against her former enemy.
"If you must know, I can't sleep," she replies, the response coming a little forced.
Draco nods knowingly, but doesn't elaborate. "Shall we?" His arm is stretched out towards the empty corridor, his wand lit, gesturing.
She nods and they begin walking together. After several minutes of silence down several dark hallways, Draco speaks up.
"I didn't exactly play the same part in the war you did," Draco says, somberly. "But I have this reoccurring nightmare of watching the school get attacked. Green and red lights are flying everywhere and chunks of concrete are breaking off the castle. People are dying all around me, but I can't move. My mum, my dad, Potter, Weasley, even Longbottom are being massacred and I can't move. It's like my feet are glued to the floor."
Hermione glances at him. A long silence echoes in the hall but it's not uncomfortable.
"I have two," Hermione starts, cautiously. "The first one starts where I can feel a numbing pain in my arm and it feels so real that it wakes me up." She slips off her robe and unbuttons her pajama top to show Draco the "mudblood" scar that is etched upon her upper arm, a dull pink that is still months fresh. "But before I can, I hear her laugh and it echoes around me."
It's several moments before she speaks again. "In the second one all I can see are rows and rows of dead people, even ones who didn't die in the war. The image doesn't transform or change it just keeps moving and moving past the rows."
Eventually, they reach the Head Student dorms. Hermione pauses outside the portrait and says, "Uh, I mean you don't have to, but would you want to…?" she trails off awkwardly and blush covers her cheeks.
"Sure, Granger," Draco responds, a hint of a smile on his lips.
She whispers the password at a space between two portraits and the wall seemingly disappears to reveal a simple common room. There are couches pointed towards the fireplace, and all four houses represented on the walls. Two desks, one pin-straight and the other covered in parchment sit in the corner near several bookshelves. There are stairs straight ahead, veering off at the top in two directions.
Draco follows Hermione up the stairs into the left bedroom. It has Gryffindor coverings on the wall and a large four poster bed. It's neat and simple. Draco observes the pictures on the wall above a stack of trunks. Some are moving, the ones of the Golden Trio and the girl Weasley but several don't, and they picture Hermione with an older couple with features identical to herself. There's one picture, of Looney and Hermione smiling, then looking up, then glancing at Looney's barefeet that makes Draco smile. Granger's hair is bushy, there's a smudge of ink of jawline, and her smile is crooked. She looks beautiful.
When he turns around, she's sitting in the middle of the queen sized bed and looking at him expectantly.
"What do you do when you can't sleep?" she asks timidly, but her eyes are expectant.
Draco slips his shoes off and stretches against the pillow, his long body taking up most of the room. Hermione doesn't notice, or doesn't care.
"Nothing," he admits. "I just don't sleep."
It's then that she notices his normally striking eyes are slightly bloodshot and there are purple bags under his eyes. His fingers are twitching against her comforter and he looks restless.
Hermione thinks this over and pulls back her sheets before slipping in and laying next to him.
"Stay here tonight?" she asks, not quite making eye contact.
Draco can't help it, he grins before he too joins her under the covers. Her breath hitches when he reaches a lean arm around her midriff and pulls her into him. His warm breath tickles her neck and shivers, not from the chill.
Neither are truly surprised when they both have a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Story 2 (Late Night Snacks): Post-war, post-Hogwarts. Hermione and Draco are married, living in Godric's Hollow and expecting.
"Hermione?" Draco peeks around the doorway into the kitchen and again into the family room. He sighs when he realizes where she probably is.
After heading up the stairs, Draco makes a left into the library. Floor to ceiling bookshelves are crammed with books, both magical and not. Some have moving photos and others make ferocious sounds. In the middle of the overcrowded room is an overstuffed chair the perfect size for sitting and reading. Or, in Hermione's case, sleeping.
"Mione, dear," he whispers and scoops her up into her arms. She stirs a little, but only to curl into his broad chest. The book she's reading doesn't leave her grasp. Down the hallway they travel into a warm bedroom, a king sized bed at it's center with books peaking out from underneath. Draco lays her down gently and pries her fingers from the book, tucking a scrap of paper in it before placing it on their nightstand. The second he does this, however, Hermione's eyes pop open.
"I wasn't sleeping," she exclaims.
Draco laughs. "Then explain why you have your bedhead."
Hermione's hands fly to her hair, long since the frizzy bush it was her first year at Hogwarts, and pulls out a knot with her fingers. "It was just a nap."
"Well, considering it's 1 a.m. I think it was more than a nap," Draco replies, pulling off his dress robes and yanking on muggle pajamas that were a gift from Hermione. They're red flannel bottoms that lie low on his hips and a block cotton t-shirt that Hermione insisted upon.
She shakes her head in defense. "The babies wanted a nap but we're up and awake now. So let's go get something to eat!" She stands up and rubs her large baby bump.
Draco smiles and asks, "How are the twins doing today?"
She waddles down out of the room, wand in hand, her dutiful husband following her. "Well, little miss Carina was jumpy this morning. Lots of kicking. And Scorpius was just like his father, calm and maybe a little moody."
Draco laughs and guides Hermione towards a chair at their kitchen table. He mutters a spell and immediately ingredients are dancing around their counters and whipping themselves into food.
"I didn't even tell you what I wanted to eat!" Hermione exclaims, looking cross.
Draco rolls his eyes and kisses the top of her head. "That weird muggle 'sandwich' you've been eating every night for the past week, I assumed."
Hermione sighs with longing. "Toasted banana and peanut butter, oh that sounds perfect."
Story 3 (Once Upon A Time): Post-war, post-Hogwarts.
"Once Upon a Time, there was a handsome lad, known far and wide for his cunning magic skills and stunning hair," Draco Malfoy started, a laugh in his voice.
"Draco!" Hermione objected, laughing. There was a small baby in her arms, it's white-blond hair peeking over the blanket.
"Keep going, Dad!" another white-blond haired child shouted from the small bed where Draco was perched.
"Anyway, despite being a star pupil at Hogwarts he was a bit of a prat. For the longest time he had the biggest crush on this frizzy-haired know-it-all but instead of telling her he was in love with her, he made fun of her. One time, she even punched him in the face," Draco continued.
"What did he do?" Draco's son, Scorpius asked.
"He fell in love with her even more. She was the only person to ever stand up to him. Years, many, many years, later he told her that he was in love with her," Draco narrated, locking eyes with his wife.
"What did she do?" Scorpius asked.
"She punched him again."
About half an hour later, when little Scorpius was sleeping and baby Cassiopeia was in her crib, Hermione turned on her husband.
"Next time you choose a story from a book," she commands, but can't hide the smile on her lips.
He pulls her onto his lap and runs his hand over her body. "I like my stories better."
"The last story you told him was about Quidditch and Scorpius went to preschool and tried to ride one of the brooms from the janitor's closet," Hermione protested.
Draco laughed. "That's because he goes to a muggle school. If he had private tutors, then maybe," Draco started, but didn't finish the sentence when he saw his wife's face.
"I know how much Lucius and Narcissa insist on it," Hermione sighs. "But our children aren't pure-blooded and I wanted them to go to school with their friends."
Draco had to admit she had a point. Scorpius was budding friends with Potter's son, Albus Severus despite only being 8-year-old.
Story 4 (Couch Dreams): During Hermione's 8th year. Post-war. VERY mature.
Hermione Granger sat on the couch of the Head Girl common room next to the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy. Her quill was scribbling along parchment, most likely creating a patrol schedule for her and Draco. Draco sat stoically, his attention buried in a book. They sat in near silence, aside from the light flipping of pages and scratching of the quill.
Nearly an hour later, now finished his book, Draco turned his head to see that Granger had fallen asleep. She looked rather peaceful while asleep, her hair tucked behind her and her eyelashes fluttering on her rosy cheeks. He reached over and removed the quill from her hand and the parchment off her lap. When he did, she stirred and mumbled something. He couldn't exactly tell what it was, so he sat on the table in front of the couch and waited with bated breath.
"Mmm, Draco," Hermione moaned, her fingers lightly clenching.
Draco's eyes just about popped out of his head. Had she just whimpered his name? Whether she was dreaming or not, it turned Draco on.
She moaned again. "Oh, right there!" she said, in a voice that was a mix between moaning and begging. Her body stretched out, and arched slightly upwards.
Holy shite, Draco thought. Was Granger having a naughty dream about him? Thoughts raced through his head, while blood rushed downwards.
"Draco, please," Hermione moaned again. She was practically panting. Then again, so was he.
Draco moved to adjust himself, er 'little draco', and the table moved underneath him with a squeak.
Hermione's eyes jumped open and found Draco's lust filled face. "Bloody hell," she said, a look of knowingness on her face.
"Watcha dreamin' about, Granger?" Draco asked, not moving from his spot.
A rosy blush spread across her face. "Er-can't remember, why?"
He laughed. "Because you talk in your sleep. And moan."
"Oh, God," she said, burying her hands in her face. "What exactly did I say?"
"You know, just my name along with 'please' and 'right there' and 'more'." He looked intensely at her, his hard on still raging but making no effort to hide it.
"Okay," started Hermione. "Well, if you must know, I haven't exactly snogged anyone since Ron and I broke up and apparently it's been taking a toll on my dreams."
That was all the leeway Draco needed. In a quick second, he leaned forward and found Granger's lips with a fierce determination and possessiveness. It took a moment for her to respond to his lips, but eventually she did, her fingers finding the nape of Draco's neck. He took this opportunity to lean his weight above her, laying on top of her on the couch.
She moaned his name again, his first name, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, grazing along her soft lips. While his mouth was occupied he used his long fingers to slowly unbutton her shirt. Hermione sped up the process and yanked her gray sweater off and then her white school shirt. Underneath, was a sheer, lacy emerald green bra.
"Christ, Hermione," he whispered, dotting kisses down her neck. She was wearing Slytherin green. He bought his hand down and traced along the lace, cupping her full breasts through the lace. She arched her body towards his hand and whimpered again. Unclasping the bra, he latched his velvet mouth to her nipples and licked until she was crying his name and digging her fingernails through his hair.
"More," she gasped. "I need more." Draco was more than happy to oblige and he yanked the zipper down on her skirt and pulled it off her body to reveal a simple silver silk pair of panties. He raised an eyebrow, emerald green and silver? He wondered if she always dressed like this and made a mental note to ask her later.
But right now he had more important things to attend to. He slipped a finger, and then two, into her warm, moist entrance and waited for her throaty cries.
"Ohmygod, Draco!" she cried, coming undone at his touch. He loved the way she used his first name. When her panting subsided, her soft fingers pulled at his tie. She sat up and straddled Draco, completely naked save for her knee socks. A minute later Draco was naked too, his lean, muscled chest looking enticing under the dim lights of the common room. She loved the layers of muscle in his arms as they encircled her waist and brought her sex over his waiting member.
He worked into her slowly, cherishing the blissed out look on her face and the feeling of warmth and security she radiated. He thrusted into her and she arched her hips along with him, matching his frenzied pace.
She cried out again, moaning faster and breathier and leaned her face towards his neck. There was a soft kiss on his jugular, before she bit down and nearly screamed. The sting of the bite and her delicious moans were almost too much for Draco. He knew he wouldn't last much longer. Hermione lifted herself up and thrusted back down along Draco's length and grinded her lower body against his until Draco let out a low growl.
"Holy shit, Granger," he moaned and finished with one last thrust in her. Her body, spent, fell forward next to Draco. Now, they sat side by side both covered in a thin layer of sweat, breathing deeply.
"Well," Hermione stated. "I think we should do that more often."
Story 5 (Bets and Broom Closets): 6th year, AU, no Voldemort, just fluff.
Hermione Granger walked into Charms class with a feeling she'd never experienced in class before. Anxiety. She took her seat next to Harry and Ron and glanced over at the Slytherin side of the classroom. After a general introduction, Professor Flitwick handed back their quizzes from last class. She grinned as she looked it over, not her best work, but she'd been distracted. Yet another emotion she hardly ever was during class.
She leaned over Harry and mouthed the words "you?" and pointed at a certain white-haired boy. He shot her a triumphant grin and held up one long finger. Hermione felt her face drop as she dejectedly held up two fingers.
Hermione had gotten two problems wrong, while Draco had only gotten one. She lost the bet! She glanced over again at Draco's smug face and saw purple sparks fly off the end of his wand. Purple, which meant the broom closet on the third floor.
She stuck her tongue out at him and he winked. They had been making bets like this for months now, and it was tie game on who won most. When Draco scored better, Hermione had to do something (usually sexually) of Draco's bidding. It worked both ways. Last time, when Hermione had correctly completed a potion before Draco she made him wear Gryffindor colored boxes for a whole week. That was in payback for the emerald and silver lingerie she had to wear during one of their rendezvous.
After ditching Ron and Harry, Hermione headed up to the third floor. She gasped when hands grabbed her out of nowhere. Soft lips with a peppermint undertone claimed hers and she smiled into Draco's mouth.
She pulled away and asked, "So what are you gonna make me do this time?"
Draco rubbed his fingers on his chin and pulled her into the broom closet that they knew all too well. "Hmm," Draco pretended to think. "You have two choices, of course."
The rule of their little game were as such: it can't be anything that would draw attention to their relationship (they weren't ready to be public), nothing too humiliating, and there could be no repeat dares.
"The first one is this: no underwear for an entire week. Or, we have sex in the library," Draco responded, looking happy with his bets. Hermione was relieved, they weren't awful, almost enjoyable.
"The first one," Hermione replied with a glint in her eye. She had a way to make Draco pay.
The next day in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape was subbing for Professor Slughorn. In turn, it meant a boring presentation in a dimly lit room. Hermione grinned. Perfect. She strategically took a seat in the row across the aisle from the Slytherin side of the room in the back. Harry looked at her strangely but didn't question her new seat.
Several minutes into the class, half of the students were dozing off during a presentation of "Merpeople: Myths and Legends", Draco included. Hermione however, was wide awake.
She turned to her left and waved her fingers to get Draco's attention. He perked up immediately and grinned at her. Turning her leg to the left side of the stool, Hermione spread her legs so Draco could see underneath her pleated skirt. His mouth dropped when he saw the panty less Hermione, freshly shaved, being so brazen in the middle of class.
For the next class period, she spent the whole time teasing Draco. She used her fingers to play with herself, make sexy noises, and drive Draco crazy. Try as he might, he just couldn't look away. When class ended, he glared and Hermione bolted out the door. She hurried down a hallway and tried to get away from Draco before he could catch up with her.
She ducked into the closest room, which happened to be the library. She laughed quietly, it seemed her subconscious had taken her to the library without realizing.
She was headed toward the back, completely empty section but turned her head when she heard the door slam. Her head whipped around and she met the blazing gray eyes of Draco.
"Ooops," she muttered and scurried toward a large desk that had seen better days. He caught up to her quickly.
"You're going to pay for that," he growled. Hermione grinned sheepishly and looked down, noticing his hard on.
"Not h-here," Hermione stuttered.
Draco placed his books on the desk and dived under the table, dragging a giggling Hermione with him. It wasn't easy fucking her under a desk, but he did it. Once they were done, Hermione's hair was frizzy from being rubbed against the carpet and her lips were swollen from Draco's kisses. She was slightly dizzy from what had just transpired.
"That's definitely in our top five," Hermione whispered when they were done.
"Oh, absolutely," Draco replied, proud of himself for the no-underwear bet.
Story 6 (List):
At the top of a long parchment on the Head Girl's desk was the title, "Places We Should Have Sex: Hogwarts Edition". On the side, in neat handwritten said, "Written by Hermione Granger." In less neat handwriting was "And made possible by Draco Malfoy."
Underneath was a numbered list, with some of the entries crossed out, and notes written on the side. It started, in no particular order, like this:
"1. Gryffindor Common Room
2. Slytherin Common Room
3. The Shrieking Shack
4. The Great Hall
5. Hogsmeade
6. The Headmaster's Office
7. Underneath the whomping willow (note: 'potentially very dangerous')
8. The Quidditch Pitch
9. On a broomstick (A note next to this said 'Not even possible, Draco')
10. Library
11. Potions Class
12. Charms Class
13. Transfiguration Class
14. Defense Against the Dark Arts Class
15. Room of Requirement
16. Forbidden Forest (note: 'Too dirty. Do NOT repeat')
17. The Chamber of Secrets
18. On a staircase
19. Greenhouse
20. Head of Slytherin's Office
21. Head of Gryffindor's Office
22. Hufflepuff Common Room (note: 'good luck with that one, Draco')
23. Ravenclaw Common room (note: 'But it's neither of our houses!')
24. Kitchen (note: 'those poor house elves')
25. Viaduct Courtyard"
