Hello dear readers! Thank you so very much for all the lovely reviews and follows. It has been such a moral booster when the writing block set in. I hope you enjoy it! As always, much thanks and love sent to hmweasley for being the most patient beta reader.
razzle xxx
Hermione wasn't sure where she got her nerve from. Being a Gryffindor was all well and good for your normal, everyday variety of bravery: the kind that made her stand tall and steady in battle, wand held high.
But this was more a leap of faith.
Leaping to kiss him was reckless and not like anything else she had ever done. She had panicked, bracing herself for an onslaught of derisive vitriol. Instead, he had begged her to kiss him again. And it was staggering.
Godric, I couldn't stop if I wanted to.
He held her like he was a drowning man and she was the light above the surface of the deep black expanse of water above. He clutched her tightly to him, so she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. Her body was curved and pressed along his entire length.
She closed her eyes and groaned his familiar oaky, spicy scent washed over her, flooding her senses. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her. His tongue flicked against her lips, begging entry. She acquiesced and he moaned into her mouth. He started moving backwards, stumbling as they bumped into furniture. He fell back into one of the armchairs and pulled her on top of him. Their kiss broke for a moment.
"Draco, are you—"
"Stop talking, Granger. I'm rather busy here."
He reached behind her thighs and pulled her knees so that she was straddling him. She blushed when she remembered that she was wearing a skirt and tights, leaving only thin layers of fabric separating their most intimate areas.
She instantly forgot her embarrassment when she felt Draco's mouth on the soft area right behind her ear as his hands slowly moved up her thighs, the calluses on his hands catching on her tights. She put her hands on his shoulders before running them down his back, marveling at the muscles there. He might have looked slight and soft, but underneath his shirt, he was rippling muscle. He moved down her neck, pressing soft kisses, sucking exquisitely at her clavicle. She moaned, throwing her head back and arching herself into him.
Panting, he broke away and rested his forehead against hers. Hermione gasped, hoping he couldn't hear the way her heart was beating. What had happened to her? She had become a wild thing, wantonly pressing herself against him and moaning. Would he think less of her now? Or was this exactly what he had expected of a muggle-born girl like her?
I should go. I shouldn't be here.
"I can hear you thinking, Hermione." Draco's eyes were closed. She could see the faint creases on his lids, and the fading circles under his eyes.
"I—" He stopped with a finger to her lips.
"No, don't. I know you want to go. Stay. Please."
He opened his eyes and stared at where his finger was still pressed to her lips. He gently moved his thumb across them.
"How did you know—"
"That you were thinking of leaving? Easy. I just thought to myself, what would Granger do now?"
"You do that a lot, you know?" she said.
"What's that?" he asked, his grey eyes finally meeting hers. "Read your mind? Or stare at your delectable mouth? It's hard to keep my eyes from it."
"No. Interrupt me," she said.
"You keep trying to ruin a perfectly lovely moment by injecting your infallible logic into it. What kind of person would I be if I let you do that?"
"A reckless one?"
"You have been a bad influence on me, Hermione Granger. I appear to have acquired Gryffindor qualities."
"Ha! It might do you some good, Draco Malfoy."
"I think it just might." He gave her a considering look. "Now stop trying to distract me from our work. You, of all people, should know better."
"I'm distracting you?"
"Yes, you are. After all, you are the one who kissed me."
She hated it when he smirked at her like that. Like he was challenging her to a fight he thought he had already won.
"You asked me to!"
"Not the first time."
"Fine, then let's get back to work." She moved to stand up, but he held her in place.
"Where do you think you are going?"
She huffed in frustration. "To the desk."
"I never said we had to go to the desk."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "How exactly are we going to do any work over here?"
He grinned. "Like this."
He wandlessly spelled the armchair to widen and spun her round till she was sitting with her legs across his lap. He smirked at her again. "And the book, Miss Granger."
Rolling her eyes, she summoned A Translation of the Latin book of Wandlore, grateful that she had also become adept at wandless spells. She opened it to the page on the properties of maple.
"Do you have some ideas already?" Draco asked her.
"Not really. I've not done much research on the magical properties of different woods. I haven't found anything in the books yet."
"Let's have a look."
Maple wands often choose the adventurous wizard. Challenges and travelling strengthen the wand and cause it to shine brightly, burnishing itself. This is not the wand for a sedentary witch or wizard.
Draco read the book carefully. Hermione couldn't help but scrutinize his features, not ever having had the chance to inspect him so closely. His eyelashes were a shade darker than his hair, as were his eyebrows. The darker lashes framing silver and slate eyes. His nose straight, leading to his mouth.
He has a beautiful mouth.
His lips were defined and oh so kissable, the upper lip slightly more full than the bottom one. The sarcastic smirk was missing from his expression as he focused on the book.
"You're staring, Hermione."
Oh! "No, I'm not. I'm reading." She felt the familiar blush creep up her cheeks.
Draco closed the book with a snap. "Alright then, what page were we on?"
She blinked. Her mind suddenly focused on an ink stain on her fingers, and she could not for the life of her remember seeing the page.
"It's fine. Don't be embarrassed. It's understandable. Who wouldn't stare at me? I am an incredible specimen of wizard-kind."
"Specimen indeed. You really do think highly of yourself."
"Perhaps," he agreed. The smile he gave her was softer, and less self assured, leaving her breathless in its sweetness.
"Your eyes really are an unusual colour."
"Another of the many things I have inherited from my family. I asked my father once about the origins of our eye colour. Apparently there is a rather interesting history behind it. The Malfoys came from the continent, most recently from France about a thousand years ago. However, Father said that before that the family had lived further east and were medieval vampire hunters or some nonsense of the sort. The silver colour was some sort of extra protection."
"Oh, that is rather fascinating." She poked his side. "Trust you to have a family history for everything."
His smile disappeared, and he put on an affected air of arrogance. "My Lady Granger, we do nothing unless it benefits us."
"Speaking of benefiting you, Lord Malfoy," she poked him again, deflating his puffed up chest, "how about we get back to work?"
"Lord Malfoy… I like that." He smiled. "As my Lady commands."
My Lady… hmm I like that, too.
It was a glorious feeling having Hermione on his lap. If he was honest about it, he would say that he struggled to pay attention to anything at all but the feel of her warmth against his body and the luxurious smell of her skin and hair.
"—and I really don't think we can do much except contact them both. What do you think?"
"Huh?"
"Weren't you listening? I said we have to contact Ollivander and Borgin to find out more about maintaining magical objects."
"Sorry, I got a bit light-headed from a lack of oxygen. Your hair is suffocating." Draco reached up and brushed a curl away from her face. It curled around his finger, clinging to it possessively.
Hermione gave him a wry smile. "Sure you did. I asked you what you thought of asking Ollivander and Borgin for some help."
"That would be fine. I'll send an owl to Borgin in the morning to see if he has any understanding of how to maintain magical furniture."
"And I'll owl Ollivander on maple wands."
Draco looked at the small clock on the mantelpiece. "Since we've got a plan of action, and we don't have anything else to do…" He took the heavy tome from her and dropped it to the ground. His arms snaked around her body and pulled her tightly to him. "I have an idea of how to spend the rest of the evening."
"Do you now?"
Once he had her pressed tightly against his chest, he reached up to run his knuckles gently across her cheek and her lips.
Salazar, her skin is so soft. I could touch her all day.
She gave a delicate shiver, and he saw her eyes grow darker. Draco gently freed her bottom lip from her teeth and leaned in.
"Yes," he replied.
Dear Miss Granger,
I am, of course, willing to assist you in understanding wand maintenance. I am most curious as to why you would enquire about maple specifically when your own 10¾ inch wand is vine and is strongly attached to you, having been one of only two wands I have ever seen reacting to its owner's entrance to my shop.
Nevertheless, I can share with you a little of what I know of maple wands. High quality maple wood is very expensive and highly sought after, mostly due to its reputation for choosing talented witches and wizards. It is a beautiful wood, which requires regular use and challenges else it will become dull and lacklustre. I have sold only one maple wand in recent years. In fact, to Mr C Weasley, whose family I know you are familiar with.
I recommend a change of scenery for the witch or wizard in question. Maple wands thrive on travel and challenge. Should this information not suffice, might I suggest A Translation of the Latin book of Wandlore by I. Terpres. It is a most helpful text on the qualities of wands.
I hope that the above has been helpful to you.
Yours,
G. Ollivander
Hermione huffed, seemingly frustrated with some problem she was pondering. Harry contemplated asking what was bothering her until he saw her sneak a glance behind her hair towards the other end of the Great Hall. He followed her gaze across the students tucking into their lunch. He didn't have to wait long to figure out what she was looking at. That very moment, Malfoy looked up and their eyes locked. Harry sensed, rather than heard, her breath hitch in her throat.
The slimy git. If he has hurt her, I'll…
He watched as she smiled ever so slightly. Ok, so that is weird.
Harry watched as Malfoy smiled back. He looked back at Hermione and watched in horror as she blushed and had the same sappy expression she used to have for Ron.
Aw, crap. This is not gonna go well…
He looked back at Malfoy, feeling a bit like he was watching a tennis match. This time, Malfoy noticed him. His expression hardened to a sneer. Hermione perceived this change and turned to see what it was that had so changed his mood. She sighed deeply.
"Harry, can we talk?"
"Sure," he replied.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not here, obviously." She stood and nudged him. "Come on."
They walked in silence until they reached a quiet corridor.
"So is this where you tell me it's not what it looks like?"
"No, it's exactly what it looks like."
Harry's mind went blank. He had spent the walk working up the energy for an argument to counter her denials. He certainly hadn't expected her to be blunt about it.
"And you have no right to say anything about it. I know you trust me. I need you to trust my judgement on this."
"I do. It's a little hard to swallow though, you and Malfoy."
"I get that, Harry. I really do. But you'll have to get over it." She ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it back from her face. "I don't know how to explain it. It feels right, Harry. And I'm not going to wait around for Ron to finally pull his head out of his arse. I've moved on."
Harry groaned. "Ugh, Ron is going to be fucking terrible when he finds out about this."
"Most likely," she agreed grimly. "But until then, I'm not going to worry about it. I've spent enough time thinking about him."
"Is he- I mean, is he nice to you? Malfoy?"
Hermione laughed. "Of course he is, Harry. Why else would we be, well, whatever it is we are?"
"He hasn't declared himself yet then?"
"Well, no. We've not really talked about it at all. We only kissed for the first time last night." She blushed. "Too much information?"
He sighed. He looked at her more closely. She had some colour to her skin, and her eyes had a sparkle in them again, something he hadn't seen for several months. He thought it was fairly obvious, but he asked her anyway. "Are you happy?"
She smiled, wryly. "For now, yes."