"Hi Draco." A sixth year Ravenclaw girl said as she walked past, smiling and batting her eyes at him.
Hermione choked on her tea, almost snorting it across the table at Harry, who was sitting opposite her, and therefore didn't see the seductive look the girl was attempting to shoot at Draco. Pansy, however, was sitting beside her and did see it, and was outright laughing.
"Draco, where are your manners?" Blaise said, a shit eating grin stretched across his face, "Say hello to the unfortunate twit."
It had been almost four weeks since their eventful New Year. Classes had resumed and the castle was full of students again. Hermione and Draco still hadn't revealed their new relationship to the rest of the school, and had insisted that the others not tell anyone either. Their concerns had very little to do the reactions of the students, they could care less about that. No, what concerned them was the fact that Professor McGonagall would be horrified that, since they were now a couple, they would essentially be living together at Hogwarts in the head's dorm.
Draco had had plenty of attention during his Hogwarts days; the rumours surrounding him had assured him the attentions of most of the female population. However, since his return after the war, he'd been almost entirely left alone. Now that had changed, and when everyone returned from the Christmas break, the attention had suddenly returned. And he was at a loss as to why. It simply made no sense.
Every morning at breakfast at least three or four girls would approach their table, say hello and smile, and on several occasions outright flirt with him. And it was worse during the day. It seemed every hallway he turned down there would be another girl, throwing herself at him. They were mostly Slytherins, but with the new found unity between houses, several girls from all years and all houses had approached him. He had politely told them no, that he wasn't interested, but that only seemed to make things worse. It just seemed to make them try harder.
Draco huffed out a breath, this was getting beyond a joke, "This is bullshit," he muttered and then looked at Hermione.
"No." She said firmly, "Don't even think about it."
"Oh, come on," Ginny hissed across the table at her, keeping her voice low so the other eighth years wouldn't hear, "Will you just kiss in public and get it over with, so this ridiculous breakfast parade stops?"
"No," Pansy said, "Keep it secret, because this is way too entertaining."
"Hey! You both need to stay out of it." Harry, ever the pragmatist, told them, "Actually, we all need to stay out of it and let them decide when they tell everyone."
"It's like it's a competition," Draco grumped, "A very unwelcome competition."
Hermione had noticed Blaise had gone silent, and Ron was wolfing down his breakfast faster than normal, "The silence from the end of the table is deafening." she noted. Ron choked on a mouthful of food, and Blaise was looking everywhere except at Hermione.
"You arseholes!" she cried, not caring who heard her, "You did this?" Both attempted to stand and flee, but she aimed her wand at them, "Sit the fuck back down and explain yourselves."
The entire dining hall had gone silent, watching with rapt attention, and slight terror. The younger students had never seen Hermione in action, and she was a sight to be beheld. If they thought their professors were terrifying; they had nothing on an angry Hermione Granger. Ron swallowed his mouthful of food, and Blaise just shrugged and returned to his seat. Hermione refused to sit until Ron, somewhat reluctantly, rejoined the table.
"Do you really want everyone to hear this?" Blaise asked.
Hermione glanced around; every face in the hall was focused on the eighth year table, more specifically on the small group at the end. She rolled her eyes, and picked up her wand, casting a spell that allowed only the seven of them to hear what was being said.
"No one can hear you. Now explain what you two fuckers have done!" She snapped.
"Weasley and I made a bet," Blaise said, and Hermione glared at him. "We thought that if we spread a rumour that Draco was on the prowl for a girlfriend, the two of you would come out, as it were." Blaise told them.
"And the bet was...?" Draco was incensed,
"It was for how long it would take for Hermione to get pissed off and tell them all to leave you alone." Ron told him.
"Why would you do that?" Hermione asked, "It's our decision, not yours."
"Because I hate keeping secrets," Ron said, exasperated, "Aren't there enough of those already?"
"Wow, and here I was thinking that friends keep secrets for each other," she shook her head, "Maybe the rest of us should make a bet as to how long it would take for the school to find out about the two of you."
"Minute man," Pansy said with a cough, just as Ginny said, "Oh is that Graham I see."
Ron and Blaise glanced at each other, "Sorry guys," Blaise said, "I just thought it would be funny, I didn't think it would go this far."
Hermione huffed out a breath, "So you learned nothing from the last time you thought it would be funny to start a rumour?"
Draco sighed, "Lift the spell, Hermione." She frowned at him and he touched her hand, "Please? We need to stop this."
She looked down at their hands, realising everyone would see, and she huffed out a breath, "You two owe me. Big time." She glared at Ron and Blaise. She raised her wand and lifted the spell, hearing whispers all around them.
Draco stood and held his hand out to her; she took it as she stood and smiled up at him. Expected him to kiss her there and then, he surprised her, by simply pulling her away from the table and walking hand in hand with her out of the Great Hall.
"Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall said as she entered the common room the following morning, "Is Mister Malfoy here? I would like to speak to you both."
"Uh, yes Professor," Hermione said, "He's upstairs."
"Mister Malfoy!" the Professor called, "Would you join us please?"
"Professor," Draco greeted her as he made his way down the stairs, he glanced at Hermione; they both knew what was coming.
"Sit," McGonagall said to them, indicating the sofa, and taking a seat in the armchair opposite. The pair sat on the sofa, leaving a large gap between them.
"Now, it has come to light that there is something going on between the pair of you," she peered over her glasses at them, "And that something is the two of you being more than just friends."
Hermione felt her face heat up, and she heard Draco draw a breath, "Yes, Professor, Hermione and I are, um, well..."
"Spit it out Mister Malfoy."
Draco shifted closer to Hermione and took her hand, "Hermione is my girlfriend, Professor."
The Professors mouth twitched, a hint of a smile touching her lips. She cleared her throat, "Yes, well, while I have heard the rumours, I needed to make sure for myself."
The pair looked at each other, "Rumours, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, Miss Granger. The silent ruckus, shall we say, at breakfast yesterday morning has been the talk of the school."
"Silent ruckus?" Hermione frowned at her, "What do you mean...oh?" Clearly the professor was referring to the spell she had cast at breakfast. Hermione hadn't thought about how it must have appeared; the seven of them silently arguing while the rest of the students and the teachers looked on. And then, of course, there was she and Draco walking hand in hand from the hall.
"Yes, Miss Granger, I mean the discussion that your group appeared to be having," McGonagall shot her one of her patented stares, "Now, we have a situation here that we have not ever had to deal with in all of Hogwarts history. I don't want to have to separate you, as you have both set excellent examples to the rest of the school, however, I am not sure that we can allow you to remain in the same dorm together if you have become an item."
Hermione's heart sank. She and Draco had shared each other's beds since New Years' Eve. They had not had sex every night, but just the simple act of sharing a bed had become normal, comfortable, and even though it had only been a month, she wasn't sure she could go back to sleeping alone.
"Professor, you can send us back to the eighth year dorm if you think you need to," Draco began, "We certainly don't want to cause any problems here, but I can assure you that nothing inappropriate has happened, or will happen while we're living here."
Oh, that's smooth, Hermione thought, lowering her head to hide the smile that threatened to break out on her face. The Draco of old was shining through, putting on the charm and talking his way out.
The professor narrowed her eyes at Hermione, "Is this true, Miss Granger."
Hermione lifted her head, her face impassive, "It is Professor. You have our word, nothing will happen." She hoped that McGonagall wouldn't notice the slight evasion of her question. She hadn't denied that anything had happened, but had assured her that nothing would. One unspoken lie and one outright lie. She could feel her heart rate increase; she hated lying to her teachers, especially her most admired one.
McGonagall looked between the two, and took a deep breath, and Hermione steeled herself for what was to come, "Very well then. I trust the two of you to behave appropriately, and continue to set an example for the other students."
"Of course professor, you have our word." Draco said.
Hermione let out the breath she had been holding the second the professor had left and instantly panicked, "She knows. She knows everything. Fuck Draco! What are we going to do?"
Draco pulled her towards him, gripping her shoulders, "She doesn't know. If she knew, we would find ourselves outside the gates with an invitation not to return."
Hermione thought about it, and realised he was right. There was no way Professor McGonagall would allow them to stay here together if she knew.
"I'm impressed she didn't find out though," Draco goaded her, "I mean, lying to a teacher. I didn't think you had it in you."
She stood on her tip toes and kissed him, "It must be you. You're a bad influence on me,"
"Me!?" he gave her an innocent stare, "I believe the bad influence is you...taking my virtue and all, humph!"
She slapped his chest, "Come on, we have classes."
They made their way to the dungeons for their Potions class. Ginny and Harry were several steps ahead of them, they would part ways at the end of the hallway and Ginny would head to Defence Against the Dark Arts, which she was adamant that she didn't need, since she had been a part of the Order that had defeated the Dark Lord. It was still somewhat of a sore point with her that she couldn't attend the same classes as them, but since technically she was still a year below them she had to attend classes with her fellow seventh year Gryffindors. They would all graduate together, but it was a small consolation.
"Why would he be with her?" a whining female voice said. She was wearing the Silver and Emerald colours of Slytherin, and sneered at Hermione as they walked past the group of fourth years waiting for their Charms class, "Doesn't he know about her? She's nothing but a filthy-"
Draco stopped and spun around, stopping the conversation instantly. Hermione grabbed his arm, "Just leave it."
Draco ignored her, "She's a filthy what?" he glared at the girl, causing her to shrink back, almost cowering against the stone wall, "And what exactly would it be that I don't know about her?"
The girl looked around at her classmates, who were all looking at their feet not wanting any part of Draco's wrath.
"I'm waiting for an answer." He snapped.
"Well, she's...Krum and...everyone says...like, ten others." The girl stammered.
Hermione choked out a cough, "Seriously? Ten others? Wow, I have been busy." She turned and walked away, leaving Draco to frown at the girl.
"Ten?" he asked, "Who the hell told you that?"
The girl looked close to tears, "I don't know...everyone says it."
"Everyone?"
The girl nodded, "I'm sorry...I really didn't mean...I know it's probably not true, but everyone says it is."
Hermione had stopped at the end of the hallway, and turned back. She watched as Draco spoke with the girl, and she frowned. Why had he not followed her? Why was he even conversing with this simpering idiot? She shrugged and continued walking. If this was something he needed to deal with, she'd let him. She knew the truth and that was all that mattered.
Saturday night found them yet again in the head's common room. Blaise had surprised them by bringing Graham with him. He was clearly uncomfortable in this new found group, but after a few drinks, he had discovered than none of them cared about Blaise's and his relationship.
"We really should find somewhere new," Harry suggested, "McGonagall's not stupid, she'll work out we're in here getting pissed every weekend."
"The room of requirement is out," Draco said with a shudder, "Too many horny seventh years hiding out in there."
"Too many horny eighth years in here." Blaise coughed out.
"Sorry, didn't catch that," Draco said, "Did you say you were sorry for barging in?"
Blaise looked at Hermione, and winked, "Oh, I'm definitely not sorry for that," he ducked as a pillow was aimed at his head.
"So," Pansy began, she had made herself at home, slouching in one of the large armchairs by the fire, and resting her feet on the coffee table, "We know Draco's history, who's next to share with the class?"
"Well since you're so interested in sharing, maybe you should start." Ron told her, a little more than mildly interested in Pansy's escapades in the bedroom. He'd heard the stories, he wasn't sure if they were true, but hoped in his heart they were.
Pansy shrugged, "Well, while our girl here was learning her way around the bedroom with Viktor Krum, I was learning my way around Nikolai Dimov, his fellow classmate."
"Which one was he?" Ginny asked.
"The fire breather." Pansy replied with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
"Nice," Ginny said with a slow nod which had Harry glaring at her, "What? He was hot, and not just because he was breathing fire."
"Wait, you did it here at school?" Hermione asked, "Really?"
"Uh, yeah," Pansy said with an unspoken D'uh, "Same as you."
"Um, no," Hermione corrected, "We didn't...not here." There were six stunned faces looking at her, "What?" she asked.
"Um, everyone says you and Krum were doing it all over the castle." Ron explained.
Hermione's face flushed red, "What!? That's the rumour?" They all nodded, including Draco, "You're kidding me?"
"No," Ginny said, "But you've never said anything about him, not really, so we all just assumed that you did."
"We really need to stop believing everything we hear." Hermione sighed, and slumped down on the sofa, "It wasn't at school, okay. And that's all you're going to get." Her experience with Krum was her own and she wouldn't share it with anyone.
DM#HG
The fourth year had been an awakening in many ways for Hermione. The attention she garnered from Viktor's interest in her had taught her two things; girls were extremely jealous beings, and boys became more attentive when shown a possibility they had never considered. A lot of guys had begun to notice her after Krum had escorted her to the Yule Ball, but she discovered that they had only been interested in finding out if the rumours were true. She and Viktor had spent several nights together, but she had not quite been ready for anything more than a few hot and steamy kisses, and Viktor had completely understood and had not pushed her.
When the Durmstrang boys left Hogwarts, Viktor had handed her an invitation to visit him in Bulgaria during the summer months, and she said that she would try. She had convinced her parents that she would be perfectly safe, especially since she was a witch, and they finally relented and had allowed her to visit with him.
Arrangements had been made, and she had chosen to travel by plane, rather than portkey (her arrival experience at the Quiddich World Cup had turned her off travel by that means forever), and was greeted by and overly excited Viktor Krum.
"You're here!" he bellowed, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around making her laugh.
"I'm here," she said when he finally put her down.
"Come," he said tugging her by the hand and pulling her towards the airport doors, "Let me show you my home."
She had assumed that he still lived with his family, she had told her parents so, but when she arrived, he took her to his own house, where he lived alone. She realised, a little too late, that he was a world famous Quiddich player, he was probably well paid and therefore he could afford such luxuries. She blushed at the thought of staying here with him, alone.
"You have your own room," he told her as if reading her thoughts. Her cheeks grew hotter and she looked at her feet. He tipped her head up towards him and kissed her, quickly, "I expect nothing from you. Please don't worry."
They had spent two weeks exploring his home town, and its surrounds, with Viktor laughing at Hermione's constant stream of questions. Her thirst for knowledge amused him to no end. She met with his family, and Viktor had had to play the role of translator for his elderly Great Uncle, who was only too pleased to share his knowledge of the magical world with Hermione. She had spent hours talking with him, falling a tiny bit in love with the gentle old man, who reminded her of her own grandfather.
The second weekend she was there, Viktor insisted that she get dressed up. He was taking her out, and it would be a surprise.
"We will be outside and it will be warm," he told her when she asked what she should wear. She hated surprises, she liked to be prepared, but he wouldn't give her anything.
She wore a sleeveless dark blue top that dipped low, showing of more cleavage than she would dare at home. She matched it with a pair of loose fitting white beach pants and a pair of strappy sandals on her feet; casual, yet dressy, at least she hoped. When she finally exited her room, he was waiting, a smile plastered on his face. He was dressed similarly, a white shirt, with the top few buttons open, and a pair of baggy khaki dress shorts and flip flops on his feet.
"Gorgeous." He said taking her hand.
She twisted her mouth into a smile, "Thank you."
"Are you ready?" he asked and she nodded, and the sudden pull in her naval had her gasping; he had disapperated them away from his house. They arrived seconds later on a sandy beach, the temperature much higher than that of his home. It was almost sunset, and the coast line was sparkling in the evening light.
"Where are we?" she asked and he grinned.
"Corfu," he told her, "Do you like it?"
Her eyes went wide, "Corfu? We're in Greece?" He nodded and she flung her arms around his neck, "It's perfect."
He laughed, "Come on, we'll be late." He took her hand and walked her along the beach towards what looked like a resort, "Our home for the night."
"Wait," she gasped stopping short, "We're staying here?"
"Is that okay?" he frowned slightly.
"It is, but," she waved a hand at herself, "I have no more clothes with me." He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes, "Be serious."
He stood in front of her, taking both her hands in his, "Its fine. I had your bag sent here. And we have separate rooms."
She narrowed her eyes at him, "I hate surprises."
'Yeah, you told me," he laughed, "Now come."
DM#HG
"Viktor?" She said, her voice was almost a whisper, "You can stay...if you want." They'd eaten dinner watching the sunset, very romantic Hermione had thought, wondering what else he had planned. But when they arrived at their rooms, he simply kissed her and bid her good night.
He smiled at her, "I very much want to, but are you sure?"
She nodded, and he cupped her face, kissing her deeply, his tongue slipping between her lips and tangling with hers. She slid her hands across his shaven head, the tiny hairs tickling her palms. He kicked her door shut and pressed her against it, his mouth trailed along her jaw and throat, reaching the soft skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
He pulled away from her, "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to," he told her, "Don't feel like you have to do this for me."
"I want to," she said, "But, I haven't..."
He cupped her face in his hands, "Then we'll go slowly. No rushing." She nodded and he pulled her towards her bed.
He removed his shirt, and she sucked in a breath. Quiddich had done him well. He was all muscle, well defined and strong. She grabbed the hem of her top and began to pull it up, but he stopped her.
"May I?" he asked and she smiled.
He pulled the material over her head, and sucked in breath of his own. She was perfect; her flawless skin was a golden brown, from her days in the sun. Her breasts were covered with a simple white cotton bra, spilling slightly out of it. He stood looking at her, breathing deeply, wanting to touch her, but not wanting to scare her.
She stepped up to him, tentatively reaching her hand up, and trailing it across his chest. A smattering of dark hair grew out from his sternum, and lightly covering his chest. A smaller trail led from his naval, and disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts, which she noticed had grown tighter, a rather large bulge growing rapidly the more she touched him.
She giggled, not able to stop the noise escaping her throat.
"Is this funny?" Viktor asked with a small smile on his face.
"No," she reassured him, "It's just...I don't know what I'm doing and I feel stupid."
"No, that's where you're wrong," He placed his hands over hers, pressing them tighter to his chest, "Everything you're doing is right, just keep touching me."
She took a breath and ran her hand lower, tracing the outlines of his abdominals, discovering he was ticklish. She laughed, and ran her fingertips across his ribs, the light touch making him flinch. She looked up at him, steeling herself, as she found the button on his shorts and tugged it open. She slid the zipper down and pushed at his shorts, letting gravity take over as they fell to the floor. She chanced a look down, and swallowed. The stretched briefs barely hid his straining length.
He tipped her face back up to his, "As slow as you want, okay? You're in charge here."
She nodded, and pushed her own pants down, revealing the white thong that matched her bra.
"Perfect," he breathed and finally reached out to touch her. She shivered, and closed her eyes as his lips descended on her shoulder, trailing a line of hot, wet kisses across her skin. His hand ventured higher, cupping her breast and squeezing gently over the cotton of her bra.
"Take it off," she almost ordered him, and he snorted a laugh against her shoulder, "Sorry," She laughed nervously.
"No, I liked you telling me what you want," he reached around and unclasped her bra, and slid it down her arms, "What do you want me to do next?"
An audible breath left her nose, and she reached down and cupped him. He jerked at the unexpected touch, and she pulled her hand away, "No, I liked it," he assured her, taking her wrist and directing her back to him.
"How does it feel?" he asked.
"Hard," she replied and he threw his head back and laughed, "What!?" she demanded.
"Oh, you're perfect." He said, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her to the bed, "What do you want me to do now?"
"Can you take those off?" she asked indicating his underwear, and he answered in the affirmative. He yanked his briefs down, his cock springing free, and tossed them away. He looked up at her and found her eyes locked on his shaft, wide with wonder. "May I..?"
He took her hand and placed it on himself, showing her how to touch him, to squeeze him. And she was a quick study. She slid her hand along his length, watching in amazement at how it twitched and swelled in her hand and she was mildly surprised when tiny beads of moisture leaked from the tip. She ran her thumb across the head, the moisture gathered there spreading with each pass of her thumb. After a few minutes he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
"Sorry," she said, alarmed.
"No," he breathed, "That was amazing, it's just, well if you keep going, this will be over before it starts."
"Oh," she said quietly, wondering what to do.
"My turn," he told her and kissed her belly, "I'm going to touch you," he explained, "But you need to tell me to stop if I hurt you, okay?"
She nodded, and held her breath. He slipped his fingers under the strings on her thong, pulling it down her body. She wanted to cover herself, for him not to look at her, but she gripped the sheets in her fists, willing herself to relax.
"Hermione,' he whispered, "Look at me." She glanced down and he was smiling at her, "You're beautiful. Don't hide."
He grazed his hands over her legs, moving slowly upwards, brushing gently over the insides of her thighs, and coming to rest on her hips, "Let me see you," he told her, and she spread her thighs wider. He was looking down at her, his gaze hot and heavy, almost burning into her, "Beautiful," he repeated and leaned down to kiss her stomach.
His finger lightly brushed over her, and her body clenched at the rush that one small touch could cause. She could feel the wetness pooling at her core with each passing touch. His fingers dragged the moisture upwards, and circled the tiny bud at the top of her slit. She moaned at the touch, unaware that she was able to feel such pleasure. Her hips began rocking against his hand, a movement that felt natural, easy. He shocked her when he bent down and ran his tongue through her folds. Her hand instinctively went to his head, her fingers brushing against the short hair. His mouth was like magic, his tongue circling around her clit, sending shockwaves through her belly.
She felt his finger slide into her and she clamped down on the intrusion. He paused, waiting for her to relax again. She slowly unclenched and he began to move slowly, before adding another finger while his thumb brushed over her clit. Her mind went blank at the dual sensations, the slow burning pleasure that was building within her. Her breath quickened, and a shiver ran down her spine. She gasped and clamped down on his fingers, crying out his name as she experienced the first orgasm of her life.
"How did that feel?" he asked her as he crawled over her.
"Wow," she was still breathless, "That was incredible."
"You're welcome," he said making her laugh, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
She swallowed hard, she did, but that didn't make her any less nervous. And would he stop if she said she didn't? She was sure he would, but after the pleasure he had just given her, she definitely wanted more.
She nodded at him and he lowered himself to her. She could feel him pressed directly over her core.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly, and she nodded and tensed slightly. He pressed his hand to her stomach and she felt the warmth of the contraceptive charm spread through her. She'd not even thought about it, and she thanked Merlin that he had. "Relax, okay."
She took a deep breath, and relaxed beneath him, she could feel the hard length of him pressing against her. She was nervous, not knowing how he would fit inside her. He pushed forward, and she felt her body resist.
"Relax," he murmured against her ear, "Let me in."
She pulled her knees along his ribs, and relaxed her body as best she could, and he groaned as she felt him finally enter her. This not what she had expected. She thought there would be a fiery, agonising pain when he pushed into her, it's what everyone said would happen and it was in all the books she had read. But this was different, there was a tiny sharp pain that was gone as quick as it came, and then all she felt was stretching, like she was being pulled to her limits, an uncomfortable pressure that made her want to pull away from him.
The weight of his lower half pressed against hers kept her in place. She swallowed hard, and looked up at him.
"Are you okay?" He whispered, and she nodded, "I'm going to move now, tell me to stop if it's too much."
She was amazed at how tender he was, how patient, how completely different this experience was to the one she'd imagined. She thought he would just take her, she had prepared herself for the pain of it, but he was being so gentle all she could feel was him.
He moved slowly, pulling away from her, and then slowly pushing back in. She winced slightly; the feeling wasn't unpleasant, just foreign and unusual.
He paused, "Hermione?"
She brushed a hand across his face, "I'm fine," she told him, "Just go slow, okay?"
He leaned down and kissed her, pressing his entire body against hers, she moaned into his mouth, the weight of him on top of her was something she didn't know she wanted or needed. The knowledge that he wouldn't hurt her, that he was taking his time and allowing her to lead, was overwhelming. She circled her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. He felt like home, like the comfort of everything she knew, like the familiar warmth of a fire in the middle of winter.
His kiss went on and on, his body completely still above her, not moving. She felt a tingle in her spine and an aching pull low in her body. She rocked her hips against him, surprising him and he broke the kiss with a gasp.
"Please," she whispered, not really sure what she was asking for, but knowing she need more than his kiss.
He moved again, slow and steady, allowing her to fully adjust to him inside her. She rocked against him, slowly recognising his rhythm, her body beginning to realise what it had been chasing. The pulling and stretching from when he first entered her was almost gone, replaced by a warm pleasure that was spreading throughout her body. He shifted above her, leaning on his elbows, and digging his knees into the mattress. He picked up his pace, earning a low moan from her.
It was only pleasure she felt, an exquisite sensation that pulled every nerve in her body to the spot where they were joined. His pelvis hit against the sensitive nub he had found earlier, and she groaned into the quiet room. There was something else, something inside her. A spot he was hitting on every thrust. It sent a wave of pleasure through her with every pass, and she found herself rocking harder against him, chasing the sensation that had her tingling.
"Krum," she whined, "More."
He kissed her mouth and began moving faster, sliding through her, sending that familiar wave throughout her body. He was groaning with every thrust, grunting against her neck, a sound that had her arching beneath him as an explosion of pleasure ripped through her. A silent scream left her, and she shuddered around him, her channel clamping down hard on his length buried inside her. He thrust twice more, before tensing and swearing in his native language, and then collapsing on top of her.
Their breathing evened out and he shifted off her, her body shuddering as he slipped out of her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, placing a gentle hand on her belly.
"Perfectly fine." She said, closing her eye and curling against him.
In the remaining week she was there, they were together twice more; once in his bed, where he showed her how to straddle him and she discovered a whole new series of pleasures were to be had; and once in the shower on the morning before she left. She had surprised him by dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth. She had no idea what she was doing, but the groans that echoed around the bathroom indicated that he was pleased with her efforts.
They'd parted at the airport, Hermione hugging him, and telling him not to wait for her. She had loved being with him, but she didn't want him to put his life on hold waiting for her to catch up. They both knew what was on the horizon, the war was looming, and neither had any idea what would result.
They had remained friends, to this day. He had married and was still Bulgaria's favourite son. And Hermione wouldn't change her time with him for all the gold in the world.
DM#HG
"So, exactly how many have there been?" Draco was clearly trying to keep his voice even.
The party that had started out as a few laughs at their individual experiences had turned into a heated exchange between Hermione and Draco. She had been reluctant to say much of anything, not about Krum, not about the others. Her number wasn't high, in fact it was quite low, but she was still not sure of how Draco would react. And clearly she was right to be hesitant.
"You're the fourth." Hermione finally told him and then narrowed her eyes, "How many did you think there were?"
"You said several others." Draco reminded her.
"No I didn't" Hermione frowned at him.
"I asked you, before we...um..." He glanced at the others, "the first time... and you said it was true."
"Semantics, Draco, and it was you who assumed it," she said, struggling to keep her voice calm, "I said Viktor was true, but as for several others, there have only been two."
Draco's face flushed at the realisation that, she was right. He had said several others, not her, and all the gossip that he had started to believe had been rubbish.
"Oh my god, Draco!" Hermione's voice had risen, "Is that why you stopped and listened to that loud-mouthed imbecile on Tuesday morning? You believed the bullshit stories? You believed that I've slept with hundreds of guys?" Draco winced at the accusation, correct as it was, "I can't believe you!" she shook her head, and then steeled him with a glare that had him almost stepping back, "Just so you know, I have had more sex with you than the other three combined, and that was just on our first night!"
Draco was stunned. He'd never even considered what she was saying. He had just assumed it was countless times with these other guys. Her first had been Krum, after all. He assumed that Krum would have fucked her five ways from Sunday, but had it only been once with him? Had it only been once with all of them? Oh, shit, he'd accused her in his own mind of countless encounters, and he had clearly been wrong.
"Hermione, I..." he began but she held up her hand, cutting him off.
"You...Fuck you Draco!" She stormed up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door.
The silence that followed was all consuming. No one said a word; they were as stunned as he was. But their surprise was directed at him, not at Hermione.
"You got off lightly," Pansy said and shoved past him, heading up the stairs, "I would have slapped you into tomorrow."
"I might still do it," Ginny was glaring at him. Draco didn't think it possible, but the current look Ginny's face would have put any terrifying glare from Hermione to shame, "You're a dick, Malfoy." She followed Pansy, heading for Hermione's room.
Ron stood, "Wow Malfoy, you really haven't changed at all, have you?" He sneered at him, "You still think she's beneath you, that she'd sleep around. I guess she is just a filthy mudblood."
"Fuck you Weasley!" he snapped leaping over the coffee table and grabbing Ron by the shirt front, "You said that, not me."
Harry grabbed Draco's arm, and Blaise leapt to his other side, grabbing his shoulder, "Calm down mate," Blaise said, as Draco shrugged his hand away.
"I'm not that person,' He snarled at Ron, who had clearly hit a nerve, "She's not a...that...and no one else will ever call her that."
"It was Cassius," Harry said, but earning a glare from Ron, "And a muggle friend of hers from home."
"Warrington?" Draco's eyes were wide, and he let go of Ron, "But he's..."
"A Slytherin? A Death Eater?" Harry finished for him, "Kind of like you?"
"Touché." Draco conceded the point, "But when?"
"It was-" Harry began, but Ron stopped him.
"Hermione should be telling him this, Harry, not you." Ron turned to Draco, "Get your fucking pathetic arse up there and apologise."
Draco took a deep breath and slowly ascended the stairs, steeling his nerves. He thought Potter and Weasley would have beaten the snot out of him, Blaise too, for his outburst. He certainly deserved it. He cringed at his own behaviour; one day was all it had taken. He and Hermione had, in Blaise's words, come out, and he straight away let the whispers and chatter get to him. He had listened to and believed the rumours being spread by jealous teenage girls for most of the week, when he knew better. Hermione had not treated him any differently when she found out his secret, and yet he totally disrespected her when the rumours about her got under his skin. He was well aware that Hermione would tell him everything; he had only had to ask. Instead he had turned into his old self, and thought the worst of her.
He knocked on the door, and pushed it open a crack, the three girls were sitting on her bed, "Can I come in?" He asked.
Hermione looked at Pansy and Ginny, "Can you give us minute?" she asked them and then nodded at Draco.
Ginny squeezed Hermione's arm as she climbed off the bed, Pansy punched Draco's arm as she walked past him, "Idiot." she said as she and Ginny left the room.
Draco shut the door, and then everything he had planned to say seem to fall out of his head, so he just stood there, his hands in his pockets, avoiding making eye contact.
"She's right, you know?" Hermione said, "You are an idiot."
"Sorry," he said and Hermione huffed out a disbelieving laugh.
"Sorry?" she shook her head, "That's it, that's all you have to say?"
"I don't know what else to say." He said.
"Think of something." She said coldly.
"I am sorry," he said, "I reverted to type and believed the bullshit. And I shouldn't have. But Hermione, I can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else. I guess I can deal with Krum, but the thought of anyone else...Fuck Hermione! I hate it."
"But you knew before this," she waved a hand between them, "Before we were anything."
"I know!" He snapped, "That doesn't mean I have to like it!"
"Holy crap! You're jealous? Jealous of what?" she looked incredulous.
"The fact that you're my first and I'm your fourth." He yelled, "I know that's pathetic and I shouldn't be jealous, but I am."
"Oh," she said quietly, all the fire going out of her at once. It wasn't what she was expecting, not for him to be jealous. It made no sense. Then a thought occurred to her and she looked up at him, "Does that mean you want to..?"
"Want to what?"
Hermione shrugged, "Explore other options."
"Explore other options? Hermione what..?" Draco stopped, realising what she meant. He sighed and sat down facing her, "No, I don't want to explore other options. I have no interest in anyone but you. But you need to understand that I hate that you've been with other guys."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Draco held up his hand, stopping her, "I'm okay with it," he reassured her, "I have to be, if we're going to be together. But I hate it."
She frowned at him, "You're okay with it, but you hate it? How does that work?"
"I don't know, it just does."
She shook her head, "I'll never understand male logic." She watched as his face twisted and frowned, "Do you want me to tell you?" He nodded and she shrugged, "Well, you know about Krum, it was three times with him. We're still friends, but you have nothing to worry about. He's married now, and he's completely besotted with her."
"Christmas Holidays of our Fifth year, I went home, we were going skiing with family friends. Their son and I," she shrugged, "It was his first time and it was awkward and uncomfortable, and we've not spoken about it since."
"The following summer, after the Umbridge debacle in that same year," she continued, "I ran into Cassius Warrington. Actually he ran into me. He wanted to apologise for the way he had behaved, that he was following Umbridge to save his family. Apparently they were on The Order's side, not Death Eaters at all. We became friends, and one thing, as they say, lead to another, and well, he was number three."
"He never said a word." Draco told her.
"He wouldn't would he?" she pointed out, "He was supposed to be on the side of evil. And you can't sleep with mudbloods if you on the pure blood side."
"Please don't say that," Draco winced, "I'm sorry I ever did."
"I know, but that was the truth of it at time." She said and then smirked at him, "I told you mine..."
"What? You know-" he pursed his lips, realising she was teasing him, "Well, actually, if you really want to know, my first was...wow...it was mind blowing. The girl, she was amazing. She had a lot of experience," he grinned at her and she slapped his arm, "And she was patient and kind and didn't laugh at me, which is always good. She, fuck Hermione, you wouldn't believe how amazing she was."
Hermione shifted into his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist, "You're a pathetic sap, you know that right?"
"Don't tell anyone," he said and kissed her.
A loud banging on the door interrupted them, "Stop fighting and get out here!' Ginny yelled, "Ron and Pansy are about to kill each other and you don't want to miss it." They heard footsteps running back down the stairs. They looked at each other and scrambled off the bed, racing down the stairs to the see Pansy and Ron standing toe to toe and shouting at each other.
"Take it back Parkinson!" Ron shouted.
"Why should I, Minute Man!?" she yelled back.
"Because you don't know shit!" Ron's face was red, he was as angry as any of them had ever seen him, "I thought we weren't listening to bullshit stories anymore."
"Oh, we're not," Pansy snarked at him, "But obviously you've got something to hide, Weasley."
Ron was breathing hard, his temper was frayed and he had never wanted to hit a girl as much as he did right now. Pansy raised her eyebrows at him, daring him to keep yelling, and that was the last straw. He grabbed her face and crashed his mouth to hers.
The group took a collective breath.
"Holy fuck!" Blaise whispered, "She's going to kill him."
But he was wrong. They all watched as Pansy slid her arms around his neck, and began kissing him back.
"I don't need to see this," Ginny said with a grimace.
Harry coughed, loudly, but they took no notice of him. "Hey!' he shouted as Pansy slid her hands down and squeezed his arse. They broke apart, lips swollen, faces red, "Would you mind taking this somewhere else?"
They looked at each other, "I know just the place." Ron told her and dragged her from the room.
Graham looked at them all, "So, is this a normal Saturday night for you lot?"