Hey there,

I present to you part three! It's just a few fluffy little moments.

Enjoy

X

[Three: The Honeymoon Stage]

June 15, 2005

In the aftermath of a passionate afternoon, Hermione Granger can be found lying on her stomach, her bum covered only by a thin sheet, her legs bent at the knees, and her feet in the air as she reads her new book. Next to her, leaning back against the headboard, flipping through The Prophet with his left hand and stroking one of her calves with his right is Draco Malfoy. They're both sticky and hot and oh-so satisfied.

A tapping noise at her bedroom window alerts them both; a small brown owl is sitting on her window sill with a white envelope – that's bigger than the bird – in its beak. She smiles softly, pushing herself up as she wraps the sheet around her naked body. Giggling as he makes a move to swat her bum, she just barely climbs off the bed quickly enough to avoid him before crossing the room and opening the window.

Draco watches over the top of the paper as she takes the envelope from the owl's beak, pets its head softly and then feeds it a treat before it takes off. She's all slim curves, messy hair, bruised – and smiling – lips and flushed cheeks as she opens the envelope, pulling out a card with the words "Happy Birthday" written in big letters on the front. Her body turns slightly to the side as she opens it, biting unconsciously on her thumb nail as she reads it. An even broader smile forms on her already smiling lips as she walks back to the bed and places the card and it's envelope on the bedside table.

"When's your birthday?"

"Hm? Oh, tomorrow," she replies, looking distracted as she crawls back onto the bed.

His eyes widen in surprise; he'd gathered it would be soon, but tomorrow? "When were you gonna tell me?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "It's not a big deal."

"Who's the card from?"

"My parents. They moved back to Australia last summer so I got them an owl since the post is faster."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

She smirks teasingly. "What's with all the questions?"

He smirks back, shrugging his shoulders.

"Nothing, really. I'm having breakfast with the Weasleys and then Ginny and I are going shopping," she replies. "I haven't decided what I'm doing after."

"You're coming out for dinner with me," he tells her simply, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

She snorts. "I am, am I? And how are we meant to manage that with our...situation?"

He smirks, rolling his eyes. "Simple. You tell me what your favourite muggle restaurant is, I make reservations and we enjoy a nice, quiet evening."

She smiles softly, propping herself up on her elbow and resting the side of her head on a closed fist. "I don't want to go to a restaurant. I want to go a chip stand."

He raises his eyebrows. "A what?"

"A chip stand," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "I'll show you tomorrow."

"Will I like it?"

"Everybody likes chip stands."

"What does one wear to this...chip stand?"

X

June 16, 2005

Breakfast with the Weasleys flies by. She doesn't spend nearly enough time with them as it is, and yet every time she does spend time with them it seems to be over before it even really starts. As always she enjoys Molly's delicious meal, George's lame – but funny – jokes, Ron and Ginny's bickering and the easy conversations all around the table. She loves the Weasleys like they're her own family, which makes her miss her own family that much more.

After the war, Harry, Ron and herself had gone to Australia in search of her parents to restore their memories. Her parents had been furious with her, at first, but after many weeks of being angry her father had talked her mother into forgiving her. They'd moved back to London and resumed life as Jack and Julie Granger. Two years ago they decided to move back to Australia because they missed the sunshine and the weather and the people – and the animals.

It had been hard, letting go of her parents like that – especially after getting them back, but Australia made them happy. They've agreed to alternate holidays; they take turns traveling, although it's much easier for Hermione to travel. Last year, on her birthday, her parents had surprised her by showing up on her front stoop with breakfast and coffee. This year they were busy, but promised to come down in a couple of weeks for the weekend.

After breakfast, which had quickly turned into a brunch, Ginny drags Hermione away from the Burrow to do some shopping. They go to a mall first for some "muggle" shopping, before going to a couple of thrift and antique stores. In the end, they end up in Diagon Alley for some new robes.

She loses track of time quickly and by the time she realizes she needs to head back home to get ready for her dinner...date with Draco, she finds herself scrambling to gather her bags and think of an excuse to leave. She settles on the old "I'm having dinner with a few coworkers" bit, which Ginny buys before they both go their separate ways.

A loud POP disrupts her as she's putting the finishing touches of her neutral eye make-up. She watches in the mirror as Draco materializes behind her. He's looking laid back in dark blue jeans and a plain white tee, with his hair mused and that adorable smirk playing on his lips. She doesn't remember ever seeing not dressed up in a suit – except, of course, he's in a state of plain undress. He looks good, she decides, looking him over through the mirror.

"See something you like, Granger?"

She blinks, pulling herself out of her thoughts as the colour rises in her cheeks. "Maybe."

He grins, striding across the room towards her. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," she replies, spinning around to face him. Only then does she realize how hungry she is, when her stomach growls loudly.

He smirks. "Hungry, much?"

"Breakfast turned into brunch, so I haven't really eaten lunch."

"Then we better feed you and your angry stomach, huh?"

"Yes, please." She goes to walk around him when he catches her wrist, pulling her back so her chest is flush against his.

"Happy Birthday," he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to her watermelon lip gloss covered lips.

"I must say, Granger, that while it's a little odd that muggles enjoy eating chips out of the back of a truck, I can see why it's so enjoyable," Draco drawls.

They're sitting at a picnic table next to the chip stand, both eating a cheeseburger and chips. At the table next to them is an older couple, probably in their 80's, eating corn dogs. The table behind him is occupied by a set of parents and two twin boys.

It's sort of...surprising how comfortable and laid back he looks sitting here, surrounded by muggles. It's refreshing. It's cute.

"You see?" she giggles. "There's just nothing quite as delicious as the fries that come out of the 'back of the truck'."

"Or as greasy."

"The greasier the better."

He rolls his eyes playfully, grinning nonetheless, as he pops a French fry into his mouth. She smiles back. "So, you come here often?"

She laughs at his lame attempt at a joke before answering. "I actually haven't been here in years," she admits. "I used to come all the time when I was little. Once a month my parents would let me choose a place to eat – anywhere I wanted – and I always chose here. My parents always knew, you know, but they always asked."

He looks hesitant for a moment. "Do you miss them?"

She nods slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Some days more than others."

"Yeah."

Hermione finishes the last of her fries before licking her salt-covered fingers and smacking her lips. "Well, as fun as this has been, I think you should take me home."

He blinks, staring at her in confusion as she begins to gather their empty containers. "What?"

She shrugs. "It's been nice and quiet and everything, but I think I'm looking forward to something a little more...exciting and loud," she murmurs seductively.

The grin that flashes across his face is mischievous and sexy and sends a shiver up and down her spine.

There's something calm and simple – and different – about the way he leads her through her own flat. It isn't rushed. It isn't desperate. It just...is. It's slow and it's soft and it's passionate and he hasn't even kissed her yet.

He backs her slowly against the back of the door as he closes it shut behind them, pressing his body against hers as he rests his forearms against the panels next to her head. She slips her arms around his neck, bringing his forehead against hers, their lips just barely touching. Already, she's panting.

He lowers his lips to her slowly and softly at first, enjoying the feel of her smooth, silky skin against his own as he slips his tongue into her hot, wet mouth. She moans the second their tongues collide and it sets the rhythm of a battle for dominance. He buries his hands in his hair, tugging and twirling and tangling as he tries to pull her closer. Her fingers pull at the hem of his shirt before she slides up his body, her fingers gliding against his soft skin and toned abs. Their kiss breaks just long enough for him to help her get his shirt off.

And then they're both stumbling across the room and tripping on the rug in their quest to get to the bed. He's utterly surprised when she pushes him back onto the bed – so much so that he lands on his back and bounces three times on the mattress. Leaning up on his elbows, the muscles in his arms rippling, he gazes up at her.

Her smile is both seductive and innocent, making her look sexy and cute as she gazes back. He is both mesmerized and insanely turned on as she pulls her own shirt off, revealing a black bra with white polka dots, lace trimming, and a single pink bow in the valley between her breasts – it's a bra he's never seen before, he realizes. She's never been this bold or forth-coming, always letting him undress her quickly. When she starts unbuttoning her skirt, he feels himself grow impossibly hard and bites his lip. He's itching to touch her, and when the fabric hits the floor, leaving her in matching knickers, he can't help it. He leans forward, wrapping his hands around the backs of her smooth thighs as he pulls her in between his legs.

She loses her fingers in his short blond hair as he slides his hands up and down her thighs and over her bum and trails open-mouth kisses across her stomach. Tilting her head back, she marvels at his touch and shivers when his fingers skim over the fabric of her knickers. She moans, feeling him so close to where she wants him and feels the smirk his lips form against her hip bone.

She tugs on his hair, pulling his head back gently. He looks back at her with darkened, lustful eyes. Leaning down, she presses her forehead against his. "I wanna be in charge."

"Yes ma'am," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

"You have too many clothes," she murmurs, her hands falling to the waist band of his jeans.

In next to no time at all, he's lying naked on his back in the middle of the bed, watching her as she strips for him. She climbs onto the bed, biting her bottom lip as she crawls towards him – and, Merlin, he'd do anything to be those teeth. He reaches out for her hips as she crawls on top of him, straddling his waist just above the tip of his erection. He looks up at her, captivated by her slow, graceful movements. And then his hands are moving on their own, gliding over her legs and then back up her hips, squeezing her breasts and then around the back of her neck. He pulls her down for a searing kiss – hard, full of lust and passion and something else he doesn't quite recognize – as she moves back against him. He's right there, at her entrance, and all he has to is snap his hips forward to find his home inside her, but she's holding his hips down.

"Fuck me," he finds himself whispering against her lips as she pulls back, both of them panting. "Fuck me, Hermione."

And then he's groaning as she slides onto him and her breath comes out in pants as she struggles to recompose what little composure she has left. She's so tight and warm and he almost comes on the spot. His hands find her hips, guiding her up his length and then pulling her back down as he snaps himself forward. She braces her hands on his shoulders as she sets their frenzied rhythm. She moans as she takes him particularly deep, ripping a strangled groan from his throat.

"Fuck, Granger..."

She captures his lips in a chaste, desperate kiss before sitting up on him. Her hands cover his, her fingers intertwining between his as he continues to help her bounce. The new angle rips her orgasm from her seconds later and she comes around him with a breathy pant of his name.

He stops moving, allowing her to come down from her orgasm while giving him a moment to catch his own breath. He stares up at her through his eyelashes, pushing his own orgasm away from him, as she throws her head back. Her messy curls fall down her arched back and her entire body is exposed to him; she's like a fucking goddess. And a fucking goddess.

She leans forward then, resting her forehead on his. "Draco," she whimpers, twirling her hips at the same time.

He understands the message immediately and rolls them over so he's on top. She wraps her legs tight around his hips and the new angle causes them both to moan. He brings their hands, fingers still intertwined, above her head and rests his arms on the pillow beneath her. His body is flush against hers.

He gazes down at her, watching her eyelashes flutter against her flushed cheeks, takes in the site of her bruised lips. "Look at me," he rasps. "I wanna see you."

She complies.

Brown meets grey.

He pulls out slowly and pushes back in slower, drawing a moan from her lips. And repeats. And repeats.

"Faster," she whispers, her voice shaking. "Please-Draco.. Faster."

He moves faster and faster, harder and deeper until they're nothing but skin slapping against skin and moans. He continues to gaze at her, watching what he does to her, watching her as she begins to unravel. "Louder, baby," he growls. "Lemme hear you."

With a few more thrusts, she falls over the edge the edge and brings him with her. He continues to thrust softly, riding out both their orgasms before collapsing completely on top of her. He buries his face into the crook of her neck, breathing heavily, and she curls her arms around his neck, holding him to her. She tangles her legs with his and closes her eyes as he remains inside of her.

And as she loses herself to sleep, she realizes that this is the most intimacy they've shared with one another. It wasn't just a quick fuck. It was almost...romantic.

Almost.

Close enough.