SUMMER
SATURDAY
"Run that by me one more time, I'm sure I misheard you."
"We haven't had... sex," Hermione whispered. "Not actual, you know. Not yet."
"What do you mean, you haven't shagged him yet?" Ginny's volume was several octaves higher than what was appropriate for their public setting.
"Do you mind?" Hermione hissed. "Perhaps you forgot but my life is already a regular fixture in every news rag in town and I don't need you making it worse!" She admonished.
"I'm sorry," Ginny apologized insincerely, her face flabbergast. "I must be experiencing heat stroke hallucinations because I just imagined my best friend telling me her boyfriend of certain months hasn't tucked her legs behind her ears yet."
Hermione blushed furiously and shoved a forkful of salad in her face to put off answering her.
"We've done other things," she defended. "Just not... it."
"Excuse me, 'it'? What are you, seventeen?"
"Don't be mean. We're having lunch, this isn't the place."
"Of course it is! Every place is the place for details!"
"I shouldn't have even mentioned anything to you. It feels like I'm betraying his trust."
"Oh come off it," Ginny scoffed. "You think he isn't discussing this with his friends, too?" Hermione was quiet for a moment.
"I'm worried he hasn't got any." She admitted quietly. Ginny yielded for the first time.
"Look, perhaps not," she conceded. "But he's got you. And you've got me, and I'm a bloody love guru so, by all means, give me the gory details and let Momma Ginny help you find sexual happiness."
"We aren't unhappy," Hermione insisted. "As I said, we've done other... things."
"Such as?"
Her mind flashed back to the clumsy desperation they'd both had after their first official dinner out. She had fully expected him to shag her - he'd even said as much - but when they got back to her flat he pressed her up against the wall, pushed passed the zip of her trousers, sunk two fingers deep inside her, and proceeded to work some kind of wandless magic with his hands that had her coming embarrassingly fast and so hard she nearly cried.
He kissed her sweetly, licked his fingers clean, and promised to owl her. She invited him to stay, but he'd claimed he needed to go eat crow at his mother's in the morning.
"You're even more delectable than I'd allowed myself to imagine," he'd said, causing pleasure to flood her again. "I can't wait to eat you up."
She'd only managed a whimper in response as he left.
"Hello?" Ginny's hand waved in front of her face, snapping her back to the present. "It can't be all bad if I'm losing you to fantasies."
"I'm telling you, there's nothing bad about it. I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong. We've done," she lowered her voice to barely a murmur. "Foreplay, and... oral -"
"His or hers?" Ginny interrupted.
"Both."
"Very good. Carry on."
"Anyways, we... start, and then - all good things - but when I expect him to," she widened her eyes pointedly and gestured with her hands. "He just holds me for a bit and then goes home. And I love the being held bit, but, you know." Ginny crunched on a carrot pensively.
"Mm, yes. And he's not weird about you touching him?"
"Hardly." Hermione snorted. Last night he'd urged her on in all kinds of sordid detail as she took him in her mouth.
"I see," the redhead pointed her half-eaten carrot in her face. "Let's be realistic about this, shall we? He's either got some kind of insecurity that he's dealing with, nightmares, flashbacks, and the like - Harry gets them still sometimes - and he doesn't want to bother you with them -"
"But -"
"Not finished. If he shags you, he'll want to stay the night because he won't want to leave you like a prick - admirable! But it would make him vulnerable."
"Okay, but -"
"Still not finished. Or, he's in love with you and doesn't want to fuck you, he wants to make love to you and is worried you don't feel the same."
"I -"
"You know, now that I think of it, it could be both."
"I -"
"Course, it could be something much less complicated." Ginny continued. "Oh, my bloody good night!" she slammed her hand down on the table. "You don't suppose he's a virgin, do you? I mean, how likely is it he found time to get on the pull during all that nasty pre-war business? Or maybe he discovered the female form in France when he-"
"Ginny!" Hermione burst out. "Stop! Please, please stop. I beg you. Stop."
"Stop what?" A deep voice broke out from behind them, causing both women to gasp and whirl around in their seats.
"Draco!" Hermione pressed a hand to her breast, over her racing heart.
"Hello, darling," he bent down to her and places a chaste kiss on her lips. "Red," he nodded politely at Ginny. "I don't mean to interrupt. I saw you from across the way and wanted to say hello."
Ginny smirked and nudged out a chair with her foot.
"Won't you join us, Malfoy? In fact, your ears must have been burning because we just - ow!" she reached down to rub her shin.
"I will hex you," Hermione hissed between clenched teeth. She sent daggers at the young woman, willing her to shut up.
"Just ask him!" Ginny hissed back while gathering her handbag. She turned a beaming smile over her shoulder.
"What I meant was, we just were just finishing up and I was about to head off. You should join Hermione for dessert." She stood quickly, waggled her fingers at Draco, and blew an air kiss to Hermione. "Love you, toodle pip!"
As the redheaded firecracker disappeared into the early afternoon crowd of Diagon Alley, Draco dropped into her vacant seat and reached for her hand.
"Is everything alright? I seem to have walked in at a bad time."
"Yes, of course. I mean, no, I do have something I wanted to talk to you about, but I would prefer to do it someplace private." She could see the wariness in his eyes and the flash of concern.
"Actually, there's something I would like to show you. We'll have all the privacy we need there. Are you free now?" She nodded dumbly and didn't argue when he dropped a handful of galleons, too many, onto the table and led her away.
They wove through the street, passed the menagerie and the second-hand robe shop, all the way to the far end of the Alley. A narrow passage blocked by an iron gate stood at the entrance to one of Wizarding London's finer residential neighbourhoods. The wealthiest of their kind lived primarily in centuries-old estates deep in the English countryside, not unlike Narcissa Malfoy. But this area was lovely, too, and a popular market for business professionals, Ministry officials, and well-to-do but not quite rich-as-Croesus families. Ideal for suburban living and commuting to the largest Wizarding employers in London, it boasted a large public library, several manicured parks, and the most darling tea house that put Madam Puttifoot's to shame. She once visited Padma Patil there several years back and was utterly delighted by it.
Do they still have those maple scones, I wonder?
"Where are we going?" She asked impatiently. He squeezed her hand.
"It's not far." He promised.
He pushed through the gate and moved in front of her to guide them through the tight entry. Once through, it widened out to reveal a beautiful row of townhomes. Trees lined the cobblestone streets, their leaves rustling gently in the summer breeze. Window boxes full of colourful blooms poured out from sills above her, the flowers and hedges in the small front gardens reaching up to meet them. She stumbled slightly in her wedge heeled sandals, eyes glued to her surroundings and not the ground before her.
"Easy," Draco wrapped a secure arm about her waist. "Nearly there."
They came to a stop in front of a home three blocks off the Diagon corridor with a red lacquered door. Delicate pink rambling roses grew over the low gate, scenting the air and tempting her to stop and smell their blossoms.
"This is lovely," she noted, taking in the tall facade. She could see him nod in her peripheral, but he did not comment. Instead, he let go of her to dig through his trouser pocket, producing a key. He strode up the entryway and fit the key in the lock.
"Come on, then." He called back to her. She scurried after him.
"Who lives here? Are you sure we're allowed to go in? How did you get a key?" She whispered. He chuckled lightly.
"I'm sure we're allowed to be here."
He closed the door behind them. The entire home was bright and airy. Champagne coloured walls were paired with raised panel wainscoting. Light marble floors and delicate gold light fixtures ran throughout as much of the first floor as she could see from her position in the foyer, and peeking into the front sitting room, gossamer window dressings set off the white framed windows nicely. A wide staircase with just enough ornate detail to be considered charming led up to what she assumed were the bedrooms. The home was empty of furniture, but it burst with potential and appeared to have been recently renovated.
"It's four bedrooms, four baths. There's a library down the hall and a small potions workspace in the basement. The back garden isn't terribly large, but it was well taken care of. It was de-gnomed last week."
She spun in a slow circle.
"What do you think?"
"It's splendid, of course," she stopped to look at him. "Who lives here?"
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
"I do," he answered. Her eyebrows quirked in surprise. "Well, I might. This is my second viewing. I wanted your opinion before I sign the papers."
"My opinion." She repeated back quietly.
"Yes. If I were to live here, I would want you to find it comfortable as well. Maybe you could..." He shrugged.
Stay.
Understanding passed between them and she moved closer to press her hands to his chest, plucking at the embroidered emblem on the front. She hummed and cocked her head in thought.
"How often would I visit?" she asked as his hands circled around her to stroke her back.
"Often."
"Hmm... would I have a key?"
"Of course."
"And some space in the wardrobe?"
"You can have the entire wardrobe."
"Will you make love to me here?" She forced the issue before she lost her nerve. The hands on her back left to cup her face as he kissed her tenderly.
"You've been so patient with me."
"Yes, and it's been quite the hardship so if you don't mind - " She cut herself off with a grin and a pinch to his backside in an attempt to lighten the mood. He left her to sit on a stair and patted for her to join him. She did, reclining back on her arms and stretching her legs down across the deep steps.
"Why don't you tell me what's been going on?" She prompted gently. He sighed and ran an anxious hand through his hair.
"I haven't put too much stock in my mother's advice in the last decade or so. She means well, but she's old fashioned and we tend to have different opinions on things... but when I went to see her the day after our first real date, she reminded me of something."
"What's that?"
"I'm not dating you just to shag you. Don't misunderstand, I desperately want to shag you, everywhere, all the time, but I'm dating you - courting you - to prove that I'm worth keeping around."
Her eyes prickled with emotion involuntarily. She blinked rapidly to keep the mist from turning into tears.
"My point is, there is nothing worth keeping about a wizard who lives in a run-down inn over a dusty pub, with no employment and no life plan, always invading his girlfriend's space."
"That's not - "
"You're not a liar, Hermione. It's one of my favourite things about you. But before we get serious, I needed to get myself settled. We are getting serious, aren't we?" He asked. She could only nod.
"So now I'm settled. I'll move in here if you like the rest of it, I start at Gringotts as a Senior Curse-Breaker next Monday, and I would very much like to show you the bedroom now."
"Wait - Curse Breaking? But aren't those international assignments?" She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. He reached over and pulled her into his lap. Her arms naturally found their way around his neck as he nuzzled into the cleavage of her sundress.
"Don't worry," he soothed as he pulled the strap of her dress down her arm. "They were willing to hire me on, but they're not exactly eager to allow my name to represent Gringotts. I'll be based here, in a private office, where no one will ever see me." He was licking his way down a heated breast when she pushed him back.
"Is that really what you want, Draco?" she asked, solemn. He huffed in frustration but abandoned his pursuits in order to answer her.
"Do you want the truth? I don't need a job, Hermione. I don't need it to buy this house, I don't need it to live a comfortable life for the rest of my days, and whatever I earn is going to be negligible compared to the current balance of the family vault. I know how it looked growing up, but believe it or not, I was raised to work and be productive. I'm good at this, and the goblins know that. I need to do something with my time and I would prefer it - that's to say, I hope it would be - something you could be proud of."
She cursed herself as her eyes started to water once more.
Stupid, sweet man.
She kissed him hard and fisted a handful of hair at the nape of his neck. When she tore her lips away with an audible smack, her voice was determined.
"I'm already so proud of you. I'm proud that you're mine. Bugger the rest."
She gathered the hem of her dress in her hands and pulled it off over her head, naked except for her shoes. The noise that came from the back of his throat was strangled, filling her with power and delight. She slid one leg around to his other side to press her carnal centre against the bulge of his trousers.
"Fuck, love, where are your panties?" He gritted his teeth and rocked against her.
"I vanished them when you said you'd give me the whole wardrobe."
"Urgh - you're going to be the death of me."
"La petite mort, if not completely."
"No bra?"
"It's 30 degrees today! You wear a bra in this heat."
"Bedroom," he mumbled against her lips. "Quickly."
"Can't wait. Here, now."
They worked together to hastily remove his clothes. Surrounded by a pile of discarded garments, Hermione took a moment to appreciate the physical man in front of her. Smooth, pale skin stretched out beneath her, nary a blemish to be seen. Flat male nipples pebbled when she leaned forward to kiss them.
Her mouth watered at his strong abdomen and tapered waist, Adonis belt directing her down to her final destination. She reached between them to stroke him, cupping his balls before lining him up with her slick entrance. A slew of curses poured from his lips as she sank down.
"I'm a fool," he gasped. "We should have done this in March."
"And every - OH! - day since." She keened as he started to move deep inside her.
He arched his hips up with each of her downward thrusts, creating a rhythm that worked them both towards blinding pleasure. The edges of the tile stairs bit sharply into her knees and the palms of her hands, sweat from the heat and their physical exertion causing her to slowly slip.
"Gods, you are so wet," Draco moaned, his hands on her hips driving her to ride him faster. "So tight."
"Falling!" She whined. Large hands grabbed her by the arse to keep her astride.
"I've got you." He grunted.
"Maybe I should have - ahh - let you show me the bedroom."
"Next time." He braced them with one foot against the bannister and moved a hand to touch her between the apex of her legs, skilled fingers dancing over her clit and making her cry out.
"Don't stop," she whined. "Don't stop touching me."
"You are so beautiful. Come for me, Hermione." He commanded.
Draco redoubled his efforts, sweat breaking out across his brow while he tried to stave off his own orgasm. The task became impossible when her body caught fire from the inside, she wailed and shuddered, the flutters of her heat milking his release from him. Sunbursts exploded behind his eyes as he came inside her with a roar. She slumped against him, limp, whimpering with each pulse of his length.
With energy and strength she didn't feel she had, Hermione slowly and carefully disentangled herself, limbs protesting every movement.
"Ow, ow -oof!" She collapsed next to him on the cool stairs with a groan, both of them breathing heavy.
"Buy the house." She panted.
"Done."
SUNDAY
MOVING IN? INSIDE SOURCES MENTION MATRIMONY MANIFESTING - Witch Chat