Rating: M
Main Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. All fics posted at this community were written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note(s): First and foremost, many many thanks to my team of betas for having the patience to read closely through the story, and for keeping me motivated to keep going and not delete everything in frustration and call it quits... Thank you, leoprior, amyeco, CJRed, and optimise!
Second, to be honest, the assignment had me stumped when I first read through the listed kinks and squicks, as well as the prompts themselves—it was a serious "WTF?" moment.
However, I chose the following prompt, out of the three available in my assignment:
Hermione is a professor on assignment for her university in a hostile environment (i.e., the jungle, the coldest place on earth, etc.) and she needs a research partner. The university sends Draco. Chaos ensues.
I might have taken a few liberties with the prompt, such as the POV, and the meaning of chaos... In addition, 8k is not enough to do a proper slow-burn, but I do hope it has enough plot.
Somewhere in the Brazilian jungle
Draco lay on his cot in the simple hut he shared with Hermione in the middle of the jungle while they were on their current research trip to study herbs and potions native to a tribe in South America. However, right now—and much to his dismay— it was her, the professor, doing all the research while he had been incapacitated for days now; he was sweating all over, thanks to the damn heat and humidity in this bloody godforsaken place in the middle of the Brazilian jungle. Sweaty and feverish, that was what he felt like. Everything stuck to his body with no means of cooling. He hated it.
Groaning, he shifted his position onto his side until her cot on the opposite wall came into view. He hated that she had chosen to place her cot so far away from his; the hut was smaller than the bedroom of his flat, yet right now, it felt huge. After all, didn't they have a good working relationship at university?
He felt momentarily disoriented from moving and took several deep breaths to push the dizziness back down. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Hermione sitting on her cot, a mischievous smile on her lips. He blinked just to make sure it wasn't just a fantasy, but she was still there, glancing at him with those dark brown eyes that could set your soul on fire. Hadn't she left earlier for a meeting with the tribe's shaman, or had he only imagined that because he had actually been dozing when she mentioned something? He couldn't take his eyes off her, lingering on how her tank top clung to her skin, or how the sweat glistened at the onset of her cleavage. He opened his mouth in a silent gasp when he caught her licking her lips, feeling drawn to the slow and tantalising movement of her tongue. For the sake of his life, he hoped that she was just licking some sweat off her upper lip... Or else this was a dream come true.
His mind still lingering on her tongue brushing over her lips, he closed his eyes for another attempt at sleep—the only thing he could do in his condition anyway. Those damn lips... He had been fantasizing about them for a while now, and her simple gesture had only added to it. It was just too easy to imagine what else those lips were capable of!
But then he was pulled from his pleasant dreams by the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder, followed by a kiss on his temple. He inhaled sharply when he found her leaning over him after opening his eyes. There it was again, that mischievous smile while her hand slowly wandered down from his shoulder and over his chest, leaving a shivering trail in its wake, even if it was only the faintest of touches. She was there right in front of him, touching him...
"Feeling better?" she breathed, her lips brushing over the skin of his jaw.
He nodded, unable to form words while holding his breath because he couldn't believe what was happening. Merlin, hadn't he dreamed about this for a long while now, cursing those damn walls of professionalism kept up between them? Both scared and anxious for her to go on, he grabbed the hand she had still placed on his chest. She felt real.
"You do look better, my dear." She whispered those words into his ear, causing him to gasp at the sensation of her breath against his ear.
In response, he gripped her hand tighter, afraid she'd disappear if he let go. "Wh-Why–?"
"Shh," she said in another breathy whisper, facing him once more. Her dark brown eyes had a fiery spark to them, sending a cool shiver down his spine. "You know, I've dreamed about this for ages now... You're not the only one with fantasies, Draco. You have no idea how much I want to do this..."
Draco. She had used his first name; she barely used his first name at work. His heart was beating faster, and he suddenly felt all heated up—not necessarily from the fever. She was so tantalisingly close, he could take in her scent—how she managed to still smell like parchment and jasmine he didn't know, but he didn't really care either. She was so fucking close. "Hermione–"
"Shh... Don't talk."
A shock wave ran through his body when her lips made contact with his, confidently demanding entrance, and he stiffened in response. Those damn lips, so perfectly soft and full, now pressing against his. After another second, he finally melted into the kiss and responded in kind to it, his tongue meeting hers eagerly. She felt so damn real. "Love you."
..
The next time Draco woke up, he couldn't tell what time it was, or even what day. His head still felt a bit groggy, as if he had slept too much; however, his body still felt hot and sweaty—he just wasn't made for this environment. Sighing, he rubbed his face, noticing the stubble scratching his palms. The sensation shocked him—apparently, he hadn't shaved in days!
After a deep breath, he propped himself into a half-sitting position, groaning when dizziness overwhelmed his mind for a few long seconds. Instinctively, he leaned his head against the wall before reaching blindly for the bottle of water he thought he had next to his cot. But to his dismay, he pulled up an empty bottle—his already parched throat dried up even more.
"You're awake."
He immediately regretted turning his head as fast towards her as he did, as the dizziness returned. He shook his head and after another deep breath, he could finally focus on her. What he saw irritated him immensely. Her cot was indeed on the other side of their small hut, putting as much space between them as possible; she was sitting on it, with all her notes draped around her like a defensive wall while she was writing in her journal. Her words had sounded dismissive, distant even, and she had only looked at him for the briefest of moments, barely acknowledging him. Where was the Hermione from last night?
"Raoni said you should lie. You're still weak."
"I feel fine." He crossed his arms, barely able to keep a frustrated sigh from escaping. Instead, he took a look around their hut, even though it barely provided any distraction, as sparsely furnished as it was—besides their cots, there were a couple of small simple tables filled with vials by now and several stools lined up along the free walls. And her, professional as always. "What happened?"
She let a sarcastic chuckle escape but didn't look up from her journal. "You just had a severe reaction to the ritual. You had us all worry, especially Raoni."
"Why?"
She raised a questioning eyebrow and shot him a glance. "You were the first white person who took part in it..."
He pushed an obstinate, sticky strand out of his face. The ritual, yes. He had talked a lot about it with Raoni, the local shaman, which was only logical since he took a special interest in rituals and magic used in healing. "Can I get at least something to drink if I'm not allowed to get up?"
Now she finally looked at him properly, confusion clearly written on her face until she saw him pointing at the empty bottle on the ground next to his cot. After another short glare at him, she picked up her wand from the pillow to Summon the bottle.
Watching her refill his bottle with a spell that turned the humidity of the air into drinkable water, he couldn't help but question his motives for having participated in the ritual in the first place. Raoni had said that a cleansing ritual would help him get rid of those demons from the war that were still haunting his dreams, that it would even be able to expel the darkness that still lingered inside him. Or maybe he just wanted to prove to her that he'd be stupid enough to believe that she'd consider him worthy afterwards.
"Thanks," he said, grumbling, when she sent the refilled bottle over to him.
"Back to your old form, I see."
Draco didn't respond to that; instead, he gulped down some of the water, feeling the instant relief in his parched throat. "What are you working on?"
"Just comparing some notes and putting them in order–"
"You know that it is my job here," he retorted, closing the bottle with probably more force than necessary. "I'm your assistant–"
"Yeah, my assistant who's currently doing a great job at being sick."
With a low grumble, he leaned his head back against the wall. He much preferred the Hermione as he remembered her: kissing him with all she had got with those damn soft lips. Not the distant, professional one. "Was a stupid idea."
"The ritual?" she said without looking up, skipping back a few pages in her journal. "You jumped at it as soon as the shaman mentioned it–"
"And you, Professor, were just as curious, even though you preferred to back out. Just like a true Gryffindor..."
She scrunched her face in response, just like the professional she was. For a brief moment, she looked like she was about to retort—probably something insulting about him being an opportunistic Slytherin or similar. However, she thought differently and just returned to writing in her journal.
Draco wished she had responded to keep him from feeling bored. Being sick always meant that he was forced to just lie around and do nothing, something he hated. With nothing to read or work on, all he could do was continue to watch her writing in her journal while he took small sips from his water bottle.
They had worked together for a while now as professor and assistant. Everyone expected him to proceed on his academic career, but the truth was he preferred working together with her much more than pursuing his own academic titles. Of course, they had to work through their complicated past of having been on opposite sides in this blasted War, but it had been worth it. Once over it, they had been able to form a friendship, growing closer over time, and she turned out to be the first person to truly challenge him in all sorts of ways. And he loved a good challenge. Looking back, he couldn't remember when he had started to feel more than just friendship for her; he couldn't possibly pin it on a single moment, but he had probably already been in too deep when he realised it. However, he had kept it to himself because he couldn't fathom she'd return the feelings, and he didn't want to ruin their work relationship.
"Professor..." Raoni, the shaman, entered the hut, his gaze on Hermione. She had tried to teach him how to say her first name, as she hated being addressed by her title, but as Raoni considered it an honour thing, he continued to her chagrin.
She looked up, a warm smile spreading on her lips, wilfully ignoring his use of her title. "Yes?"
"My wife wants you to sit next to her while she prepares a potion for Elena."
"Isn't that the girl who is in the separation hut? Oh. Of course."
"Separation hut?" Draco asked, feeling as if he had missed a large chunk of the conversation.
With a look of both surprise and relief, Raoni turned towards Draco. "You're awake."
"Apparently," Draco replied irritated because he could see Hermione roll her eyes at him for his question before she climbed off her cot. It seemed she couldn't leave fast enough.
"He is back to his old form," she said when she was at the door. "I think he might be over it now."
The shaman nodded once more. "Don't go into the jungle; the hunters said they saw a jaguar," he said before she left and then grabbed one of the chairs to sit down next to Draco's bed for an examination. "You worried us."
"She said so too."
"No one who has done the ritual has ever reacted as strongly as you." Raoni let his gaze wander over Draco's whole body, checking for any symptoms.
"I'm hungry."
Raoni got up to reach for a specific vial on the nearest table, only to fill some of its contents into the cup next to it. "You need to drink this first. It will help your recovery."
Sceptical as always, Draco took the cup and took a first sniff. "Smells like Strengthening Potion at home," he said, eyeing the dark brown liquid with even more scepticism.
"We drink it when we still feel weak after a fever," Raoni said as he sat back down on the stool. "Now, drink."
"What's in it?"
Raoni only smiled knowingly. "The Professor wrote everything down because she wanted to know what I give you. But it is a very common remedy in our village."
The potion had a slightly bitter taste to it that even lingered on when Draco had finished it. Swallowing hard once more to get rid of the annoying aftertaste, he handed the empty cup back. "Strengthening Potion tastes better."
"Do you have any questions?"
Leaning back to let his head rest against the wall, Draco shook his head. "I just want to get up."
"I think it might be wiser to stay in your cot for another day and night."
"I've slept enough." Draco crossed his arms. "I'm supposed to do research, not lie in bed being sick."
"Don't worry," Raoni replied, shaking his head lightly. "Have you experienced anything strange?"
Draco threw him a side-glance in annoyance. "Strange is normal for my kind."
"Yes, I remember you telling me about being from a wizarding university."
Draco nodded but said nothing.
"Okay... You said you're hungry. Someone will bring you some food."
"Thanks," Draco said, turning his head towards the shaman once more. To his surprise, he had come to like the simple food the tribe's women prepared in a shared cooking area. It usually was some fish or meat the hunters could catch, served with a piece of flatbread—yet it always smelled and tasted delicious.
Raoni got up and placed the stool back at the wall before looking at Draco once more. "I will check on you later to make sure the potion works."
Draco nodded. "You know, the only thing I find strange is her behaviour towards me."
With an understanding nod, the shaman finally left the hut.
..
Soft fingers trailed down his chest, brushing the faintest of patterns on his skin.
Draco didn't want her to stop. He still had his eyes closed, but he knew it was her—only her fingers were this soft, only hers could evoke such an enticing feeling wherever they touched him. He let out a small, content sigh in response to her caresses.
"You like that?" she whispered, a light tease to her voice.
He nodded, his mind fully focused on her touches and the low waves of warmth they caused. This was how it was supposed to be—them together, not her being all distant. He gasped in surprise when she playfully pinched his nipple. Merlin, yes!
Next thing he noticed was her putting weight on the side of his bed while she kept brushing over his skin, with special attention to his nipples until he let out a small moan each time a finger even just grazed over it.
"You sound so good... Merlin, those little moans!" Her voice purred next to his ear, and he gasped once more from the sheer proximity.
Oh, for Merlin's sweet balls! She was nibbling at his earlobe! Draco couldn't help but moan in response, utterly lost to those wicked lips teasing him.
"You definitely like that."
"Yes!" he husked, finally grabbing the hand that was still brushing patterns over his chest and stomach.
"You want more?"
Draco nodded fiercely, pulling her hand downwards. The simple prospect of her stroking him let his member harden; he groaned in desperation. This felt so good!
"Wait," she whispered, her breath brushing over his ear, and then she shifted her position until she was placed on top of him, straddling his hips.
"Oh sweet Merlin!" he uttered when she ground her hips into his for the first time. He finally opened his eyes, only to look straight into those fiery dark brown eyes while a devious smile curled up her lips as she repeated the move. This was torture, yet so good!
She leaned forward, hovering inches above his face for a couple of heartbeats before claiming his lips in a hot kiss while grinding into his hips with more and more intensity.
Draco thought he would explode from the simple contact of her folds against his cock, only separated by a layer of fabric. This was such an exquisite torture! He moaned into their feverish kiss with every single one of her grindings; his hands were stroking over the bared skin underneath her camisole, trying to get it off her. He could feel her deep moan vibrate in his throat when he reached her front to fondle those perky breasts that had brushed over his chest in such a tantalising manner. They were perfect! So utterly perfect!
Panting heavily, she sat up to pull the camisole over her head, without stopping to gyrate her hips.
She was a sight to behold, in all her sweaty, intoxicating entirety, so bloody sensual in everything she did! Another low moan escaped him when she teasingly fondled her breasts, showing that devious smile on her lips again. He reached up to stroke over the hardened nipples that were surrounded by beautiful dark areolas. He smiled when he felt her shiver in response to his strokes, then he let his hand wander down towards the shorts she was still wearing and which he found so obstructing.
She leaned down once more, her hips grinding even harder into his. "I want to give you a treat," she said, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck. "You must be aching by now..."
Oh, she had no idea how much he was aching by now—aching to get their remaining clothes off, aching to feel her all around him! He pulled her up for another hot kiss, devouring her mouth as if it was the best thing he had ever tasted. In addition, he started bucking against her hips, relishing in the waves of electrified pleasure running through his body with each contact.
And then her hand found its way inside his shorts.
He bucked more violently into her in surprise at the touch. This was so good! Eager for more, he helped her fumble his shorts off, only to watch her move herself further down, her eyes fixed on his hardened, glistening cock; their greedy expression made him shiver.
He was lost as soon as her tongue touched the head of his cock, licking up the precome. This was heaven!
..
"Looks like you're almost healed," Raoni said when he finished checking Draco the next day. "One more dose this evening, just to be sure."
Relieved, Draco nodded. "I feel fine today. I told you yesterday that I want to get up and return to the work I'm supposed to do."
"Work can wait for another day. But you can come outside and join us at our daily village meeting. Today we want to discuss how to drive the jaguar away."
"Maybe later. I just need to get on my feet first..." Draco sighed and propped himself into a full sitting position. For the first time, he didn't feel dizzy after changing his position in any way. "I shouldn't have done it. I still feel the same."
"Sometimes, the changes are subtle and take time to come to light," Raoni replied. "And in your case, it can take time for all the darkness to leave your body."
"But I–"
Raoni shook his head. "Be patient. You did it for the right reasons. I'm sure she will appreciate it one day," he said and got up from the stool to leave the hut. "Do come outside."
The shaman's remark left Draco rather confused, not quite understanding what he was hinting at. Was there something he missed, like some signs or anything?
Thinking about Hermione, his thoughts eventually strayed back to what he had experienced the night before, and he couldn't help but smile rather smugly at the memories. He didn't know why she had changed her mind so suddenly, why she so suddenly wanted to give him a treat. Oh, what a treat it had been! She had been such an intoxicating, sensual beauty with such a wicked mouth... He wondered for a short moment where she had learned to suck and blow like that—surely, she couldn't have gotten it from her ex, that lousy Weasel.
When a low moan escaped his lips, he realised that he had started to stroke himself to the memories. Stopping, he glanced at the door, not sure whether he should risk it during the day with the possibility of her—or anyone else for that matter—walking back in any moment. With a heavy sigh, he let go of his member after one last stroke for good measure. Maybe she would give him another treat this evening?
Instead, he slowly tried to get back on his feet. It took him several attempts because he kept getting dizzy as soon as he was standing upright and had to sit back down. But then, his circulation finally caught up and he was able to walk through the hut, albeit slowly and supporting himself on the walls. He saw his wand placed on the small table, next to hers amidst their collection of vials. The wands both somewhat mirrored their owner's personality—his hawthorn looked all smooth and polished, yet housing a more complex nature; her vine looked more weathered and worn, uncommon and never to be underestimated. He briefly took up her wand and felt a familiar warmth run through him; it was almost as if he was holding his own wand. He never felt this when he had been forced to use his mother's wand during the War. Carefully, he placed her wand back on the table to grab his own. He was tempted to just use it to shower himself with clothes on, as sticky and sweaty as he felt then and there, but in the end, only used it for a much-needed shave.
However, as soon as he was finished and his cheeks as smooth as usual, his attention was drawn to a small brown corner peeking from underneath her pillow—her journal. Hadn't she taken it outside with her to take notes while watching the women prepare the harvested plants for their use in the tribe's potions? Or whatever they would do today? Intrigued, he went over to her cot and pulled it from its hiding place.
It was a mixture of personal entries and entries about their progress made in the research. He was interested to know how much she had learned about the potions and herbs the tribe produced and used, but was equally drawn to the personal entries. However, he knew he was crossing a boundary by reading those entries, yet he needed to know.
..
Hermione's journal
Day 1
We have finally arrived in the village after an eternity travelling on the river. Draco kept groaning about feeling sick from the boat's swaying, but he looked fine. The tribe has welcomed us with unexpected generosity. We both feel tired to the bone, but we enjoyed the welcoming ritual and managed to hand over our gifts (that they had requested when we first made contact). I'm very much looking forward to studying their potions as well as their herbology. Based on the sheer amount of knowledge that could be gathered here, I'm glad I brought Draco along to help catalogue everything.
Day 3
The humidity is killing us. But the women have agreed to take me to the places where they find the healing plants in the jungle around their village. Draco said he wanted to talk to the shaman about rituals and treatments he has for various illnesses. I'm sure he'll gather a lot of information.
To be honest, I haven't seen him this focused on a trip, and we have done several by now. But I do like the earnest conversations we have had in the evenings so far. It was like getting a glimpse of a new Draco lurking underneath that facade. A very intriguing glimpse.
Day 6
When we told him about our experiences in the War, the shaman offered to perform a cleansing ritual on both of us. It's a great honour to have such a ritual performed on us, yet I'm not entirely sure about the effects and the consequences. The shaman mentioned a potion containing hallucinogens that we would take at the beginning. Draco said he was going to do it, regardless of whether or not I would join him. I do understand his reasons for taking part in a cleansing ritual with all the memories and pain still lingering in him—something I can relate to more than I care to admit. I just wish he was able to let go of his past and look forward. But maybe this ritual is going to finally give him this chance.
Day 7
According to the shaman, today is perfect for the cleansing ritual, as tonight was going to be a new moon. The moon phases are important to so many cultures, sharing the same basic idea that the new moon represents a new beginning while the full moon would stand for superstition and craziness. I decided not to do it, fully knowing that I might not get another chance for a cleansing ritual. However, Draco is excited and won't stop talking about it. I'm still allowed to take notes about the ritual, mostly because I'm concerned about the outcome for Draco.
Day 8
Draco is still hallucinating, but thankfully, he has calmed down now. The shaman said that he shows an uncommonly strong reaction to the ritual, and he keeps muttering unintelligible things with no connection at all.
I might not admit it loudly, but I'm indeed scared now... I don't want to lose him. I want to hear his sarcasm again, his dry comments about everything. I want those earnest nightly conversations again. All I can do is watch him suffer, and I suffer with him. I shouldn't have allowed for it.
Day 9
Draco had his first lucid moments today and we were able to give him much-needed fluids. Never felt more glad to have him smirk at me, as much as I usually want to wipe it off his face.
He seems to be asleep now without any further hallucinations, at least not that I can tell, so I'm taking the chance for another walk with the women and a swim in the river afterwards—a much-needed one.
Day 10
Draco is hallucinating again! And he's hallucinating about me! God, this is embarrassing... I can't take it any longer, he said "love you". What am I supposed to do now?
Day 11
Draco woke up today, sounding like his old sarcastic lucid self. I'm so glad! I've missed him. A lot. It's just so weird now... At least the shaman seemed satisfied with his recovery.
The women were so nice to let me help with their food preparation for dinner, a welcome distraction. I still can't get his words out of my mind. Has he loved me for a long while now? The shaman's wife said that it was evident that I had feelings for him too, that I've just never realised them before. Maybe she is right... All I know is that I don't want to miss him in my life ever again.
Day 12 – NIGHT
He's hallucinating again! He's moaning—loudly! Grinding his hips as if... oh God, as if he's having sex! With me!
..
He had only been hallucinating? No, that couldn't be true! Draco reread the last entries where she had noted her observations. She had been surprisingly emotional in her entries, but he was still shocked to learn that he had only imagined their kiss and their... Oh Merlin, that was why she'd been acting so distant!
Groaning in sheer embarrassment, he closed the journal and placed it next to him on the cot, only to rake his hands through his sweaty and sticky hair. He needed to sort his thoughts after these revelations; this was a lot to handle.
Hallucinating about her! And she had heard him say that he loved her!
He opened the journal once more, shaking his head because he still couldn't believe that it hadn't been real. It was that... that she had felt so damn real, her touches, her lips—Merlin, those wickedly soft lips!—everything about her. And yet, here she mentioned that he had only imagined it.
Why had he even hallucinated about her in the first place? Was that part of the side-effects of the ritual as well? His mind clinging to the one thing he had come to know and love while the remnants of the darkness still inside him had been cleansed? How ironic.
However, just as Draco was starting to come to terms with the embarrassing reality of the situation, Hermione entered their hut. Her eyes grew wide in shock when she discovered the journal in his hands. "Did you read in my private notes?" she asked, her voice turning into a growl, while pointing at the journal. "Did you read it?"
"Yes," he admitted, holding the journal up for her to take it back. "And I think I need to–"
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? This is my private journal, you idiot! You had absolutely no right to snoop in it!"
"Oh, come on! It's not like you haven't witnessed something extremely private while keeping an eye on me. So much for privacy here!" He got up to be in the same position as her, briefly stabilising himself on the closest wall because he had moved entirely too fast. "We're supposed to share our notes, not keeping stuff from each other–"
"And you shared too much!"
"Hermione!" Irritated, he made a step towards her so that he was towering over her in the end. "I was hallucinating for Merlin's sake..."
"Sure."
"Just let me explain–"
"No." Now she stepped closer, glaring dangerously at him—her dark brown eyes had changed to a shade that was close to black. A very dangerous shade. "You pack your things immediately, and I'll organise your trip back to the next Portkey home–"
"Oh, no! I won't! You can't just send me back. You need me–"
"I don't need you..." She poked him in the chest to emphasise every single word. "You have absolutely no respect for the privacy of others. This is my private journal, and I'm not going to tolerate you reading in it. Right now, I can't trust you..."
"Hypocrite," he muttered, grabbing her hand to keep her from poking him any further; her nails were long enough to hurt. "You won't even give me a chance to explain, will you?"
She shook her head fiercely and tried to get her hand out of his grip. "You will leave now, and we will deal with everything when I'm back as scheduled."
"Fine! If Madam wishes for my departure..." He sighed and let go of her hand. Instead, he reached for his wand on the nearby table to collect his belongings with one swift non-verbal spell.
Oh yes, they were going to deal with everything once they were both back at the university. Her habit of being so utterly obstinate in her opinions still annoyed him beyond belief, even after working with her for such a long time; he no longer wanted to deal with it. This was too much!
"Yes, I do. I'm pretty sure that a breach of privacy could have sanctions on your employment–"
"Threatening to throw me out?" He growled. "I've read the contract before I signed it, you've forgotten to add this part."
"I didn't think it necessary, but seeing that you're still a Snake with no respect for privacy if it's not your own, I probably should have." With that, she stormed out, calling for the tribe's eldest to organise his departure.
..
Back in England
A week later, Draco was waiting in Hermione's office for her to enter. He knew she was coming back to work that day, and they still had a few things to discuss after she had sent him back home rather abruptly. At least he was now back to his normal self, though the vivid hallucinations he had gone through were still on his mind. They were one part of the reason why he was waiting for her. The other part was a document lying on her desk.
"D-Draco?" she said, stopping mid-track when she discovered him sitting in her chair at the desk. "What are you doing here?"
"Good morning, Hermione, I'm fine by the way." Draco got up, never leaving her out of sight, then picked up the papers that he had brought with him. "I'm here to give you this."
"What?" She took the papers hesitantly after putting her purse on the nearest chair and pressed her lips into a thin line when she saw the title.
"This is my resignation from the post as your assistant." He watched her anxiously while she read through the cover letter. "It has been delivered to the head of department as well, but I wanted to deliver yours in person."
"But... Why? Is it because I threatened to throw you out?"
He shook his head. "I should have done that a long time ago. I mean I should finally work on my PhD, I... I just liked working with you too much." Sighing, he pushed a strand back out of his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry about what I did. I shouldn't have done it–"
"Yeah, you shouldn't have."
"Just understand that I thought you were behaving strangely. At one point you were... you know... kissing me, and the next moment you tried to put as much distance between us as you could in that hut."
"You said 'love you', Draco. How was I supposed to handle that?"
He watched her for a moment, taken aback by the open, slightly insecure expression on her face. He was grateful that she was no longer angry at him. "To be honest, I do."
"You... wait, what?"
"I've loved you for a long while now. I can't even tell you when it started. I just do. But I never said anything because I would rather have you as a work colleague than scare you off with my admission." Draco held his breath, even leaned against the desk for support. He couldn't look at her right now, but he knew she was staring at him; the silence in the room was deafening, and he just wished she would finally respond. There could be only one reason why she didn't say anything—she was trying to find polite words for a rejection. He should have kept his damn mouth shut!
"And... And you're not... I mean, you're not lying?"
He stopped in his move to straighten from the desk when he heard her speak. It took him another second to realise what she had said; in a first small wave of relief, he let out the breath he had been holding. He shook his head reluctantly. "No. Not about this. But I bett–"
"Thank the gods!" Within a split second, Hermione threw his resignation letter to the ground, only to close the distance between them to pull him down for a kiss.
Draco was completely surprised by her move, having not expected anything so straightforward from her. But then he parted his lips, relishing in the feel of her lips coaxing his—for real this time. They were as soft as he had imagined them but also demanding; she wasn't holding back but rather wanted to discover everything he had to offer. His hands found their way to the side of her face, the fingers digging into the curls there. "Her-Hermione?"
"I shouldn't have sent you home; I've missed you terribly all week!" she said, panting, but with a sly, happy grin.
"You missed me?"
She blushed and nodded reluctantly. "Most of the time, you're a sarcastic git, but I realised that I don't want to lose you, okay? I can't let you go like this, because... because–"
"Because you discovered you love me too?" he offered with a cocky smile and then placed a soft peck on her lips.
"Yes," she whispered, a hint of embarrassment still ringing in her voice. But then, smiling warmly, she stroked gently over his cheek, following the fine lines with her fingers. "I do love you."
His heart jumped at her admission, he had never thought he would hear them. Gods, his whole body was humming with joy! He leaned forward until his forehead touched hers, grinning like a happy fool. "You have no idea how much I longed to hear just that..."
"Why... Why haven't you said something before?"
He shook his head. "We have now; that should be enough," he replied, placing another soft peck on her lips, feeling her open them ever so slightly as an invitation for more. This time, it was him exploring every small corner of her mouth. He chuckled when he noticed how she gently pushed him back towards the desk, but he didn't stop his kiss. It felt better than he had ever imagined, and he just had to savour everything he could.
Hermione broke off when they reached the desk a few steps later, remaining within inches of his face. Her eyes showed sparks of happiness when she gazed at him, catching her breath. "I accept your resignation under two conditions," she finally said, a devious smile curling her lips. "First, we're officially dating now, no going back whatsoever–"
"And the second?"
"You finish your degree! Get that damn PhD!"
"Oh, with you at my side I might aim higher even," he replied, leaning against the desk and ending up at her level. She looked how he felt—happy. Glowing even.
"Whatever." With a suggestive raise of her eyebrow, she pushed him onto her desk. "Now kiss me again, I want more of that!"
"As you wish." Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her towards him. "Although I have many ideas of what we could do after you grow tired of kissing..."
She shivered in anticipation before grabbing his lapels and claiming his lips again, surprising him with the possessiveness of it. "I want a proper date, then we'll see what happens."
"I'll pick you up at seven." He kissed her back just as possessively, relishing in the feel of her body against his, of her curious hands all over the front of his upper body, taunting him even.
"Draco?" she breathed between kisses after what felt like half an eternity. "You know I have a department meeting–"
"Believe me, this is better."
She chuckled into the kiss. "You're right."
Fin.