Two weeks later, Hermione found herself at the Potters'. Things were so quiet at home with no kids and no Ron. She hadn't heard a word from him, other than the divorce papers that had been delivered by owl, yet strangely she found she barely cared. Sure, it was lonely. She didn't have someone to dump all her thoughts onto anymore, which is why she had Flooed to the Potters' house as soon as work allowed.
"How are you doing?" asked Ginny.
"Oh, fine, actually," said Hermione. "So busy at work."
"Good," she responded, handing Hermione a full glass of red wine.
"How are things with you?" Hermione asked, unsure how to talk to Ginny. After all, she was in the process of divorcing her brother.
"Oh, fine," Ginny said awkwardly.
They both sipped wine for a moment, uncertain of what to say.
"Hermione, I have to talk about Ron's new girlfriend. Is that horribly inappropriate?" asked Ginny suddenly.
Hermione laughed.
"Please do!"
"It's just so bizarre!" Ginny said animatedly. "He's just started bringing her round like nothing's unusual about it! Mum doesn't know what to do, but you know how she is. She just sets another place at the table and goes about her way. Ron doesn't mention you at all, he talks about the kids. I guess they send him letters-"
"They send the letters home, I forward them on when I feel like it," Hermione interrupted.
Ginny gave her a quick sly grin.
"I don't blame you. He's being insufferable, and everything is just so awkward," Ginny said.
"What's her name?"
"Wendi with an 'i'," said Ginny with an eye roll.
"Of course it is," said Hermione, giggling into her wine glass.
They both paused to take drinks.
"Does it bother you? Are you upset?" asked Ginny seriously.
Hermione took a deep breath. She wasn't sure, really. It did hurt to know that Ron could move on so quickly, that he expected everyone in his family to move on so quickly. To know that the entire past summer their marriage had been a sham, that he'd come home to her after sleeping with Wendi (with an 'i') and try to get her in the mood? At least she had never given in to his pathetic attempts at seduction. Yes, it was true. She hadn't had sex with Ron in ten months. Come to think of it, she wasn't all that surprised he'd gone looking for it somewhere else. Better Wendi than me, thought Hermione.
"No," said Hermione honestly, and then she sighed. "I'm only worried about the kids. I'm not sure what Rose and Hugo will say, how this will affect them. I don't want Ron parading a bunch of blonde twenty year olds through their lives."
"He won't," said Ginny. "Even Mum wouldn't let him get away with that."
"Wouldn't let what?" said Harry, entering the room for the first time.
"Hello, Harry. How's work?" asked Hermione.
"Not too busy. Auror work is dull without Voldemort around," he said cheerily.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry grabbed a beer and tapped it with his wand to chill it.
"We were just talking," said Ginny. "About Ron and . . . you know."
"Oh," said Harry, his expression dropping a bit. "She's really insufferable, Hermione. Empty in the head. How's it at the house? Without him there?"
"It's great, actually," said Hermione. "No one leaving dirty underwear around."
Ginny grimaced at the visual.
"But I do feel . . . I don't know, a little less safe," confessed Hermione. "I know how to defend myself, I know plenty of spells, but I still worry. What if someone broke in?"
"You've got wards, right?" said Harry.
"Yes, all the usual. Not sure what I'm worried about, really. I guess I'm just rusty since the old days. Since Dumbledore's Army," said Hermione with a smile.
Harry and Ginny smiled too.
"Well, take a class or something," Harry offered, taking a long swig of beer. "There are self defense programmes all over London. Just sign up."
Hermione cocked her head to one side, considering the suggestion. It might be nice to brush up on all those skills she'd let lapse since Hogwarts. Without Voldemort and the Death Eaters looming over everyone's heads, she hadn't really needed to keep up her skills, and unlike Harry and Ron's career choices as Aurors, her own job as a Ministry librarian required significantly less defense practice. It might be fun to relive the Dumbledore's Army days, refine her cursing and hexing skills. Particularly if Ron decided to keep bringing skinny blondes around . . .
"That's actually a really good idea, Harry," said Hermione.
"Great," said Harry, taking another swig and leaving the room.
Ginny shrugged and the girls poured more wine and continued to gossip the rest of the night away.
The next morning, Hermione decided to take Harry up on his suggestion and find a place nearby to brush up on her defense skills. Her home with Ron was just north of London, so she scanned the Daily Prophet for possible classes. She found one dueling club just a few Floo hops away, so with a handful of Floo powder, she stuck her head in the fireplace.
"Hello?" Hermione said, her head in the flames at the dueling club while the rest of her body crouched uncomfortably on the floor at home.
"Yes?" said a tall, handsome wizard.
"My name is Hermione Weasley – er – uh, Granger," Hermione stammered. "I'm inquiring about the dueling club?"
"You've found us. Interested in learning some fighting techniques?" the man asked.
"Well, yes, I suppose so-"
"Come on, then. We offer a free trial for new members. There's a class in an hour," he said.
"I'm a bit rusty, and I wanted-," she said.
"It's for all levels, beginners to experts. Come on out and we'll get you started," he said. "See you in an hour."
And with that, Hermione found herself back in her living room, the fire changing from green back to its usual orange. That seemed to happen awfully fast; Hermione had only meant to ask what the club was about, the kinds of skills she would learn. She wanted to talk about her past history and experience fighting Dark Wizards during the war so she could determine if the club was right for her. She was not particularly fond of jumping right into things, but she shrugged and decided to just go ahead and do it. Why not? It wasn't as though she had to answer to anyone. She was a free woman.
Unsure of how to dress for a dueling class, Hermione threw on some Muggle workout clothes: black leggings and a comfortable but form-fitting shirt, just in case a lot of movement was needed. She pulled a set of wizard's robes around her shoulders, though, for she didn't want to be the only odd one in Muggle clothing. It was true that being Muggleborn did not have the same connotation that it had in her younger days, but it was best not to call attention to the fact that she was just as comfortable in Muggle workout gear as she was in robes.
When she was finally ready, she tossed some Floo powder into the fireplace and felt the familiar spinning until she ended up at the dueling club. She glanced around the large open space, walls lined with mirrors, and saw about a dozen men of varying ages and levels of attractiveness, but they all shared one trait: they were extremely fit. Oh yes, this is exactly what she needed. The men were all dressed in Muggle workout clothes, so she removed her robes quickly, feeling a bit nervous and out of place.
Hermione was relieved to see two women in the class. They looked to be close to her age, early thirties, and seemed to be good friends. One was tall and lanky, a bit awkward looking if Hermione said so herself, and the other was shorter and stockier. They didn't seem quite as pleased to see her in the class. Hermione allowed herself to assume it was because she was just more attractive than they were, and thus, would take away the attention of the good looking men in the class. Yes, despite birthing two children, Hermione's body still looked pretty good, if she said so herself. Nursing had left her breasts fuller, and a lot of exercise had let her abs retain some of their original shape at least. The two women in the class were pointedly ignoring Hermione, so she ignored them as well and set to stretching.
She heard the door to the studio open and glanced up to see the instructor she had spoken to earlier walk in, but when the saw the man walking in behind him, Hermione nearly choked.
Draco Malfoy. And when his eyes scanned the class, they met hers. Other than a brief moment where he held her gaze, Malfoy gave no other reaction to seeing his Hogwarts nemesis in the class. Years had passed since all the animosity, and with children the same age, Hermione had gotten used to hearing the Malfoy name and even seeing him from time to time, but that certainly didn't mean they were friendly.
"Let's get started," said the instructor. "Today we'll be working on a critical skill in self defense: how to react if your opponent has disarmed you and has you on the ground. It's not a position you ever want to get into, but we need to practice what we'd do to get out of it. Want to help me demonstrate, Malfoy?"
Malfoy nodded. The instructor dropped his wand and got on the floor on his back. Malfoy assumed a position on top of him, straddling the instructor's abdomen with his wand pointed at the instructor's face. Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable, but as she looked around, none of the other students seemed to find this unusual. She supposed that learning to defense oneself occasionally involved compromising positions.
"As you can see," said the instructor, "Malfoy has me pinned. I could use a wandless to get away, but since we've got all skill levels here, I'm going to show you how to escape this situation without using a wandless spell."
That was good, Hermione thought. She hadn't done a wandless spell since Hogwarts.
"What I would do here is buck my hips to force my opponent to fall forward, using his hands to balance himself on the ground and therefore losing the ability to cast a spell," said the instructor.
He demonstrated, bucking his hips, and Malfoy fell forward as predicted. Hermione tried not to act like a twelve year old about the whole situation.
"Then, I'll use my hand and foot to trap my opponent's arm and leg, then use momentum to roll him over," the instructor said, "giving me a chance to pin his wrists and keep his wand arm under my control."
In a flash, the instructor had Malfoy on his back, wand hand pinned. It looked so simple. The two men stood, Malfoy brushing off his Muggle-style track pants and straightening his shirt.
"Let's pair up," said the instructor.
Hermione looked to the two women in the class, but they had immediately paired together and were beginning to practice. The instructor looked over at Hermione and smiled.
"Glad you made it. You're new, so I'm going to pair you with someone a bit more experienced to help you learn," he said.
"Thanks," said Hermione.
"Malfoy?" the instructor said.
Hermione blanched. She was going to learn THAT move with Malfoy? Malfoy did his best to hide an eye roll, but Hermione still saw it, and because of that, she resolved to act professionally and learn quickly. She would demonstrate the maturity that he obviously lacked.
The instructor had already moved on to help guide the students in the class, and Hermione was left standing with Malfoy.
"Weasley," said Malfoy, his best attempt at a greeting.
"Granger," replied Hermione.
Malfoy just raised an eyebrow at her.
"Well, let's get to it, then," he said.
Without any further discussion, Malfoy prostrated himself on the ground, looking at her expectantly. Hermione fought a blush. How could he be so professional about this?
"Look, I know this is uncomfortable for women, but I do this all day," said Malfoy impatiently. "If you want to learn, let's get started."
Hermione took a quick breath and straddled him, cautiously keeping her weight above him. She was very aware that she was wearing skin-tight leggings and he had on loose fitting workout pants. Hermione was hovering about an inch above Malfoy.
"Say we were really in a fight right now," said Malfoy. "If you're like that, how easy would it be for me to knock you off your balance and trap you?"
"Easy," said Hermione weakly.
Malfoy nodded, and Hermione sunk down onto him. She was straddling him properly now, and doing her best not to think about what body parts she was sitting on. She hadn't been this close to a man besides Ron in over a decade.
"Do you remember the demonstration?" Malfoy asked, and Hermione nodded. "I'll show you how it's done, then you can practice."
Describing his actions as he went through the motions step-by-step, Malfoy first bucked his hips, knocking her forward with a hand on either side of his head. Then he quickly trapped her left hand and foot and rolled over, grabbing her wrist as he did and ending up on top of her and in a very dominant position between her legs. Hermione was already beginning to sweat.
"Got it?" asked Malfoy, seemingly unfazed by the position they'd found themselves in.
Hermione nodded.
"Good. Your turn," he said.
Malfoy maneuvered so that he was straddling her this time. He was a patient teacher, showing her exactly how to curve her wrist to keep him from breaking her hold. Though she was significantly smaller than he was, he taught her to use her shoulder to get enough momentum to flip him onto his back, then added a quick lesson that the instructor hadn't taught – to grab his wand and be ready to use it. He was quite professional about the whole situation, minus a couple of barbs he tossed at her here and there.
"Exactly," said Malfoy with a smirk. "Don't be afraid to get aggressive. Pretend I'm that useless ex-husband of yours."
Hermione couldn't even bring herself to be offended, and she had to stop herself from smirking back.
Hermione had just straddled Malfoy to practice again when the instructor paused the class to provide a few additional tips. This pause in the action forced Hermione to realize for the first time how close she was, and what parts of Malfoy's body she could feel against her own. In fact, she was feeling them fairly well. She couldn't be certain; after all, it had been ten month since she'd even had sex, but she was beginning to think that all this wrestling was having a bit of an effect on Malfoy. She was momentarily repulsed, but it took only a couple of seconds for her heart to begin racing. Malfoy was not an unattractive man. He'd grown into his sharp features, and apparently all the dueling he'd been doing was keeping him in extremely good shape. He was taut and muscular underneath those Muggle clothes. Hermione's mind drifted away from the instructor's tips and zeroed in on the very subtle hardness she was beginning to feel in Malfoy's pants.
The instructor had stopped giving advice and the other pairs had gone back to their practice. Malfoy looked at her expectantly, and as he was totally ignoring the effect she might be having on him, Hermione took it as a cue to ignore it as well. After all, when a man wrestles around on the floor with a woman straddling him, it was probably unavoidable that certain body parts reacted, with or without their owners' permission.
It was relatively easy to get back into the swing of practice, but she still couldn't help but get a little hot around the collar.
"Think about it, Granger," said Malfoy as he showed her techniques for getting away when her hands were pinned above her head. "This is a valuable skill for a woman to learn. Merlin forbid you ever find yourself in this situation, but if you did, you could use any force necessary. There's no reason a man should ever have you in a position like this, excepting in this classroom."
"Or in the bedroom," said Hermione, though she immediately turned red and regretted saying it. What had gotten into her? Was she flirting?
Malfoy only gave her a smirk, and they continued their practice.
The hour was nearly up, and the instructor ordered all the students to finish up their practice. A few other students asked Hermione if she'd liked the class.
"Yes, very much," she said to a very attractive young man.
The instructor walked up to her with a smile.
"What did you think?" he asked.
"It was great," said Hermione breathlessly. "Very useful."
"Interested in a membership?" he pressed.
"Absolutely," said Hermione, without even thinking about it. Her brain was still a bit foggy and her entire body felt like it was on fire. She could definitely get used to this.
Hermione filled out the paperwork for a membership in the dueling club, planning to attend every class she could. She glanced around the room for Malfoy before she left, and was surprised to find that she was a bit disappointed that he'd already left. Hermione tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and ended up at home.
For the first time in months, Hermione felt sexy. Sexual. She wanted to touch herself. She immediately peeled off her workout clothes, running her hands along her body and remembering the feel of Malfoy's subtle erection through his pants. Climbing into her bed, she traced her fingers down her body until she found that sensitive place between her legs, a spot she'd almost forgotten about. She nearly jumped with the pleasure of rubbing her finger around it, but soon got into a rhythm of stroking and touching. Imagining all sorts of scenarios in which Malfoy had pinned her down and taken advantage of her, Hermione's breath quickened and she quickly found herself at climax. Her breath was heaving and a sheen of sweat covered her body. It had been ages since she had orgasmed. It was brilliant.
Oh yes, she was going to like this dueling club very much.
((()))
Malfoy also found himself in desperate need of a release after the day's dueling class. He'd been paired with women before in situations like today's class, always an uncomfortable position, but most of the women who joined dueling clubs were quite masculine. It didn't mean he had never had his body react in a rather embarrassing manner, but there was something about having Hermione Weasley – Granger as she apparently was once again – straddling him that made it particularly difficult to will away his erection. He hoped she hadn't noticed, but then again, some small part of him hoped she did.
He jumped in the shower as soon as he made it home and wrapped his fingers around his cock, relieving some of the ache as he stroked himself. He found himself quite unintentionally picturing Hermione Granger pinned beneath him, sweating and panting, but in his imagination, she wasn't just learning fighting techniques from him. He could picture the heat from between her legs, and as soon as he imagined sheathing himself inside of her, an orgasm washed over him as he spilled himself onto the shower floor. Shuddering, Draco finished up his shower and got dressed.
Hermione Granger. Draco shook his head. What the hell was she doing divorced and joining a dueling club? How could the nauseating Ron and Hermione Weasley have possibly divorced? He had been quite content pretending that the Golden Trio hadn't existed since Hogwarts, as they were always an annoying reminder of the embarrassment he had felt in crawling away from Voldemort during those final hours of the battle. Yet with a Weasley and a Potter child in the same year as Scorpius, he heard about them all far too frequently. Their children were Gryffindors, of course. Draco rolled his eyes just thinking about it.
And yet fifteen years was quite a few, plenty to forget about old rivalries and grow up. He would never be friends with Potter or Weasley, but Granger . . . well, the dueling class today might have changed his mind about her. She was a Mudblood – Muggleborn, as the politically correct term was these days – which would make dear Great Grandfather Malfoy turn over in his grave. Yet his body had been unable to help responding to her. Maybe it was just a reaction to the fact that he hadn't had a shag in two years. He simply had never tried. Not as though a woman wouldn't be happy to oblige – he was one of the richest wizards in Great Britain after all. But shagging too often meant flirting and dating and, he shuddered to think about it, falling in love.
