Good day.

First, I would just like to thank everyone who has taken the time to pay attention to this story – in any way, shape, or form.

Second, as someone has pointed out in the reviews, I know Hermione's birthday is in September. I meant to leave a note at the beginning of the last chapter addressing the fact that I changed it to be in June so that the rest of the timeline I wanted would work itself out. (There are certain holiday-like moments I wanted at a specific time.) Call it an AU, if you like..

Thirdly, this next chapter explores a little more of Draco and Hermione's blossoming relationship. And with a little bit more intimacy. Fluff ensues!

Enjoy


[Four: Intimacy]

June 29

Sometimes she can't decide which sort of rendezvous she likes the best. The fast-paced, rough lustful kind with hard, erratic thrusts and biting and animalistic growls that throws her over the edge. Or the slow, sensual kind with long, drawn-out thrusts, soft movements and breathy moans that build her up and up and up and then drops her. Both are truly magnificent. Both sides of him are hot and sexy – and she knows he likes both too.

He likes to dominate her, to be in control, to fuck her rough against the shower wall or hard at the kitchen counter when she least expects it. He likes to hear her whimper and moan and beg him to go faster and harder and deeper and he fucking loves it when she screams and writhes with wild abandon. And he likes to draw it out, to make her feel, to heighten her senses, to let his hands glide rather than grab, to bury her into the mattress. He likes to get lost in her breathless moans and the way her back arches and he fucking loves it when her mouth falls open in a silentscream as she sores over the edge.

X

July 4

She's all limp limbs and deep pants as she lays next to him on her stomach. Her skin is shining with sweat and her hair is wet with it as she continues to come down.

He's lying on his back, watching her with a lazy grin. "You okay?"

She hums in response, nodding her head ever-so-slightly as she tucks her arms under her pillow.

He reaches his hand out to tuck a messy curl behind her ear before running the back of his knuckles across her cheek. "You're beautiful, you know."

The flush returns to her cheeks as she blushes, turning her head away from him and tucking her face into her pillow. He is amused by the fact that she still gets embarrassed in front of him.

He shifts on the bed, moving closer to her as he curls his left arm around her waist and props himself up with his right. He drops a soft kiss to her shoulder before resting his chin there, waiting for her to look at him. Three. Two. One.

She turns her head, looking over her shoulder at him as he stares. "What?"

He smiles that boyish smile, and then shakes his head and he kisses her shoulder before continuing down. He leaves a trail of soft, open-mouth kisses over her shoulder blades, down the middle of her back and over her hips. He stops at the top of her round bum and looks up at her to see her watching him.

"You're insatiable," she whispers.

He grins, his lips against her backside. "You're desirable."

X

July 20

She's startled when she walks out of the stall in the woman's washroom down the hall from her office; a certain blond is leaning against the sink counter in front of her. Her mouths open in shock as she sputters. "Wh-what are you doing in here?" she hisses quietly. "What if someone walks in? This is the woman's washroom, Draco-"

"Relax, Granger, I locked the door."

She blinks, followed by a subtle nod as she moves forward. She settles for the sink next to him to wash her hands. "I'm not having sex with you in here."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "That isn't why I'm here-" he stops himself, then, looking thoughtful. "Although that's not a bad idea. This is probably the only room we haven't christened," he points out.

She blushes, smiling even as she rolls her eyes. "No. Now what do want?"

"Shacklebolt's sending me to Italy next weekend."

She smiles proudly at him despite the sadness seeping into her bones. That means she won't get to see him at all next weekend. "That's great!"

He nods. "He wants to send a partner with me and I told him the only way I would agree to that is if I got to choose who it would be."

"Oh? Who'd you choose?" she asks distractedly as she dries her hands.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

She smiles, suddenly feeling all giddy and happy inside at the mere thought that he's chosen her.

X

July 27

The arms around her waist are strong and protective. She turns carefully, not wanting to wake the man sleeping next to her. He stirs, but doesn't wake as he pulls her closer. His eyes are closed, his blond eyelashes resting delicately against his cheek. His face is calm and there's a small smile on his thin, pale lips. He looks like a child when he sleeps, she notices. So peaceful and calm. So innocent.

This is the first time she's ever woken up with him. This is the first time he's ever been able to stay.

She presses a soft, tender kiss to the tip of his chin, waking him. His eyelids flutter open, and his smile broadens upon seeing her. She smiles back. "Hi," she whispers.

"Hi," he whispers back groggily. He lets go of her long enough to rub the sleep out of his eyes before settling his arms back around her waist.

"Sorry I woke you."

He shakes his head sleepily. "'s okay." He looks at her, drinking her in. Bed hair – knotty, sexy and elusive. Tanned skin, flushed cheeks. Sleepy eyes. Bruised, kissable lips. And, of course, the cute little imprints on her cheek from the lines in the sheets.

She does nothing but stare back at him.

"You have morning breath," he notes, crinkling his nose playfully.

She looks playfully offended for a second before giggling. "So do you."

"Well then I guess it won't matter if we snog."

"Guess not," she murmurs as he presses his lips against hers.

"Good morning," he breathes against her mouth, closing his eyes.

"I wish we didn't have to leave today."

He opens his eyes, looking into her sad brown ones. "Me too."

X

August 10

She walks into her office first thing in the morning to find a red box on top of her desk. On top of the red box is a small card with her name on it, written in handwriting that looks suspiciously like Draco's.

Puzzled, she opens the card.

I know it's late, but it's better late than never.

Even more puzzled and extremely curious, she lifts the lid. An overly-excited gasp surprises her and she covers her mouth to keep from screaming. It's the newest edition of Hogwarts: A History, also known as her favourite books of all time. She runs her fingers over the front cover delicately; she's too afraid to pull it out.

"I see you got my gift," a familiar voice drawls from behind her.

She tears her gaze away from the book to find him leaning against the doorframe, his hands pushed into his pockets. "How did you even get this? It hasn't even been released to stores yet. And why? My birthday was weeks ago-"

He grins, shaking his head playfully at her babbling. "I pulled some strings with the publisher and he let me have a copy early. And your birthday wasweeks ago, but I never did get you a gift."

She smiles softly, tilting her head to the side. "You didn't have to, Draco. Honestly."

He shrugs indifferently before pushing himself away from the wall. "I have to go. But you can thank me later."

And with a wink, he's gone. Leaving her with butterflies in her stomach and a racing heart.

X

August 25

"I don't get it," he declares.

"What's not to get?" she wonders, laughing lightly. He's sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard and his legs spread out in front of him. She's sitting in between his legs, with hers bent over top of his. "It's like watching a picture moving in the Wizarding world – only it's longer and has sound."

"It's a complete waste of time, Granger," he scoffs.

"How so?"

"Who wants to sit there and watch a black box with pictures on it?" he wonders, deadpanned.

"Um, everyone? I'll admit, too much TV is bad for you, but sitting down to watch a show for an hour can be fun."

"Fun? Sounds like a riot," he replies sarcastically.

"There's all types of different show genres – just like with books and music," she starts, before going off on one of her little "muggle history lessons."

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches her. She's talking animatedly, waving her arms around and making shapes and gestures out of her hands. Her passion and fire and excitement is written all over her face, dancing in her eyes and lighting up her whole personality. He likes this side of her. He likes getting her all worked up to the point where she loses herself in her passion and her thoughts and her ideas.

And even though he doesn't always listen to what she's saying, he likes to watch.

His gaze falls from her eyes to her lips, watching their motions and movements. They're graceful. Her pink tongue slips out to wet them mid-sentence and he just can't help himself. He leans forward, grabbing the back of her neck with his right hand and pulling her lips to his, silencing her.
"I like it when you talk, Granger," he murmurs when he pulls back. "But sometimes I like it better when you can't say anything at all."

She giggles as he pushes her back against the mattress and presses the length of his body against her.


To ben continued...