Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction using characters and entities from the Wizarding World trademarked by J. K. Rowling. Original plots, dialogue, and characters are mine.

Synopsis: Flashback to sixth year in Advanced Potions and then debts are settled in the present.

Rating: M: sexual situations, innuendos, and themes, language

Songs that inspired the story:

Coming Over by Dillon Francis

Molecules by Disclosure

Chapter 12: Coming Over

February 1997

"Hello class! Today is Valentine's Day," the potions master says excitedly to his class. They don't return the sentiment as two-thirds of the class are young men. The other third are four of the least giggly young ladies in their year and have no concerns with things as frivolous as greeting card holidays. Professor Slughorn refuses to acknowledge their disinterest and continues with his lesson. "Today we will be making Amortentia! While it has no practical uses, I thought it would be the perfect potion for today's lesson. I introduced it on the first day of school, but now you get to make it. You have until the end of the class to complete. Begin!"

A resounding chorus of groans and grumbles come from the teenagers as they set to work. Though they are in the dungeons in the dead of winter, the classroom feels like a sauna with the cauldron fires and rising steam from the bubbling potions. Many students shed their robes, jumpers, and vests. Some of the girls opt to wear knee socks instead of full-length tights on potions days. As the room gets warmer and warmer, the girls and boys push up their sleeves, unbutton their shirts, and loosen their ties.

After the potions had been brewing for some time, Blaise Zabini looks up from his cauldron. This room is a powder keg of teenage hormones about to explode—everyone has stripped off half of their uniforms, sweat drips from their foreheads, and even the girls have untucked and tied up their shirts exposing their midriffs. What the hell was going on? Was this the potion? "Drake. Draco. Psst!" he tries to get his friend's attention.

"What?" He responds, clearly annoyed with Blaise, "I'm almost done. Can't we talk after?"

"No. Just look up," Blaise urges his fellow Slytherin with a manic intent in his eyes that Draco has no choice but to look up. The spiraling vapors create a haze around the room and everyone looks incredibly sexy—guys and girls alike. It's as though everyone is moving in slow motion. Did the girls skirts get shorter? They are showing way more skin than is approved per school dress code. "Didn't I tell you? Look at how Granger is arching her back looking at her cauldron. I wouldn't mind getting filthy with that." He holds up his wand and says, "Shall we?"

Theodore Nott interjects knowing what Blaise and Draco are up to, "If you two arseholes try and lift up Daphne's skirt, I will murder you."

"Relax, Theo. We know she's off limits. Besides, it's the mudbloods that have the sexy knickers," Blaise winks at the most studious of the Slytherins.

Theo shoots a scowl at Draco and Blaise, then returns to his potion and checks to see how Daphne is doing with hers.

"There. Done," Draco inhales his potion and it smells just like her—roses and wildflowers in the country, green apples, and summertime. Damn it, he thinks to himself. "Now I can play this silly game with you, Blaise."

Blaise points his wand at Hermione and the slightest breeze barely moves the woolen skirt.

"Pathetic. You have to wait until she moves. Be patient," Draco says smugly.

Once Hermione's potion has revealed its mother-of-pearl sheen, she inhales its scent and is shocked. The amortentia smells a bit different than first day of school. She never admitted it to anyone, but she had smelled traces of Ron's shampoo, and this time it smells different. She looks over to Ron who is still working on his and Harry has finished early, yet again. Hermione quietly slips over to Professor Slughorn to ask him about what could cause the differentiation.

She crosses the room toward the Professor and passes the Slytherin table.

"Now," Draco whispers to Blaise and makes swirling motion with his wand. Hermione's skirt lifts and hovers long enough for the boys to get a good look of her sheer thong underwear revealing her fresh shave and perfectly toned bottom. Draco bites down on his fist at the sight and loses his concentration.

"Oh, God," Blaise doubles with a strained look on his face. Beyond embarrassment, he points down at his trousers and says, "Scourgify ."

Draco whispers to him, "Blaise, did you just—"

"Shut up, Draco." With that Blaise puts his head on the desk.

"Professor, may I ask you something, in private?" Hermione says in a hushed tone not to alert the whole class of her development.

He takes her by the arm and they move closer to the storage closet, but they don't go in, "Yes Miss Granger, what is it?"

"Well, I have completed my potion, but it doesn't quite smell the same as the first day of class. The last time I took a whiff of amortentia, I smelled parchment, fresh cut grass, and a very recognizable scent," she blushes slightly at the thought, which her professor catches. Hermione continues, "But now it smells different."

"Oh? Any recent changes in your love life? Sorry to pry, but it would help make sense of things," Professor Slughorn was trying to be coy, but he most definitely wanted to find out the gossip.

"Well," she blushes harder than before. Hermione hadn't noticed, but Draco had slipped behind her to put away some ingredients and instruments. "Yes, there is someone, but the potion doesn't smell anything like him. He smells of vanilla, light musk, and spices."

"That is a very exotic and alluring combination," the professor has a good memory when it comes to scents and is trying to place a face to Hermione's description. "But you say that your potion doesn't smell of your mystery man? What does it smell like?"

"It still smells of parchment and grass but now more wooden and a bit fresher and less flowery," she pauses as she thinks of what the smell is, and absentminded inhales. The vapors of the amortentia are filling the room and the scent is so strong, as if it is right next to her, "like orange or lemon."

Draco walks away from Hermione and the professor with a crooked smile on his face. She whips her head in his direction knowing that he had overheard the conversation, but turns back to the professor.

Slughorn raises his eyebrow at her and says, "What it sounds like to me is what you are attracted to most has changed."

Further flabbergasted at the results she asks, "What do you mean?"

"My dear, the heart is fickle and it wants what it wants. Amortentia, while fun to make and find out results, is by no means prophetic. Just enjoy the class and we'll dump out these potions when we are done. But if you want to keep a vial for research purposes, to see if the scent changes again, I will allow it." he says to her with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you, professor," she says to him looking more confused than before she spoke to him. As she walks past the Slytherins, Blaise and Draco have very suspicious looks on their faces. Part of her is curious, the other part of her knows that if it involves both Malfoy and Zabini, it can't be good.

"Erm. Hermione—your—um—" Ernie McMillan points at her skirt and it's all bunched up and twisted revealing a good deal of her right leg and part of her backside.

"Oh my God," she's completely mortified knowing that she just spoke to the professor and he said NOTHING about it. Now she knows what Draco and Blaise were smirking about—perverts. All of them, Professor Slughorn included. Damn Slytherins. "Thank you, Ernie. At least I know of one GENTLEMAN in this class," she says loud enough for Malfoy and Zabini to hear and they cannot contain their laughter.

Hermione smooths out her skirt, unrolls her sleeves, tucks in her shirt, and adjusts her tie. It's still too hot to layer on the jumper and robes.

"Smell anything interesting?" Harry whispers to Hermione.

"Not sure. It wasn't quite what I was expecting," she replies back, "that's what I went to ask Slughorn about."

"Eh, it's a potion. How accurate could it really be?" Harry is trying to read between the lines but isn't quite sure what Hermione could be implying.

"You're right, but still," She pours a little bit into a vial and pockets it, "professor said I could keep a little for research. See if the smell changes."

Back at the Slytherin table, Blaise whispers to Draco, "So being purebloods, that just means we're only supposed to marry other purebloods so that our heirs remain pure, right? Isn't there some kind of clause saying that it's okay to mess around with muggle-borns and half-bloods, as long as we don't marry them?"

"Sorry mate, but the rule is look but don't touch," Draco tells Blaise, though he has already violated that rule himself.

"That sucks. I need to go to France or something. You know how hard it is to find a pureblood girl I haven't fucked or am not related to?"

"You're not kidding. My family tree is starting to look more like a spiderweb."

The two young men are in hysterics, but their professor interrupts the revelry. "Wonderful job, students. You may be dismissed."

Draco slides off his stool and leans over to Blaise, "Unlike you, I can hold it a little longer. Time to head to the loo and make a withdrawal from the wank bank."

"You're never going to let me live that down, will you?"

"Nope. Maybe I'll even tell Granger one day."

"You wouldn't."

He gives his friend a devilish smile and shrug of his eyebrows and heads to the bathroom.

March 2030

Draco walks into his room, and Hermione's clothes are in a pile on the floor. Without asking for permission, she slipped into one of his silk pajama tops. While tying her hair up in a bun, she catches his reflection in the mirror and turns around.

"You look so much better in that than I do." After hours of not being able to hold or kiss her, he takes her hand and yanks her into his arms and presses his lips against hers. It feels as though it has been an eternity. He rubs his hands up and down the black silk feeling all her curves under the baggy top. "I'm guessing by the pajamas you're planning on staying the night?"

"My house is so empty and lonely." She nuzzles her face into his neck and inhales his scent. "Your scent. I can't get enough of it."

"Well, it's the same scent I've been wearing for thirty-five years."

"Really? You know I held onto your scarf for months just so I could smell it every time I thought of you. What is it?"

"A perfumery in the South of France created a custom scent for me. It has been so long, I can't remember all the notes, but I believe it has sandalwood and citrus, other nuanced layers, but what I loved about it was how it reminded me of the Quidditch pitch and new books."

All of a sudden an old memory flashes before her. "Do you remember Valentine's Day in sixth-year Advanced Potions?" She can't wipe this silly grin off her face, and he knows exactly where she is going with this story.

"Oh, I remember that day well. Did you smell me in your amortentia?" He then kisses her collarbone and takes a whiff of her perfume, and it has the same effect on him as his cologne does on her, "Are you saying all I had to do was just put on some extra cologne, and you would have been mine?" Draco looks quite pleased with himself while she rolls her eyes.

"We have already discussed this. You would have had to do a lot more to win me over back then." She parts her lips inviting his kiss. Her tongue slips past his lips and can taste his last drink.

"Can I finally say that I won you over?"

Sarcastically, she says, "Yes. Draco Malfoy has finally won over Hermione Granger."

"Tonight must be my lucky night. I just keep winning," he says smugly as his hands continue to roam her body.

Not giving in so quickly, she asks, "Speaking of which, what did you do with all your earnings?"

"I gave it to the kids to use for the pub."

"How kind of you—giving a couple of rich kids even more money."

"But we love those rich kids. And hey, it was hard work swindling all those ministry brats," he boasts.

"You wouldn't know hard work if it hit you in the face."

In mock offense, he replies. "May I remind you— single father , self-taught eight languages, guitar, and piano, and I read a new book a week. Also, I don't just collect checks, I am actively involved with my investments. You may not realize this, but it's not easy managing two estates, even with help and magic. And Minister, don't forget that I'm nominated for Order of Merlin, Third Class for my potions work. So, I have never had a job but that doesn't mean I don't know what hard work is."

"Mmm. You're sexy when you prove me wrong."

"Say it again."

"That you're sexy?"

"That you were wrong."

"Oh shut up," their mouths meet once again, this time with very little restraint. Her body coaxes him backward toward the chaise lounge. She reaches down to unbuckle his belt and undo his trousers. Pulling away from the kiss, but still close enough to feel each other's breath, she whispers, "Right now, I believe I have a debt to pay." Carefully, she slides her hand inside his pants and begins stroking his length; from base to tip. While so many women dislike foreplay, she thrives on it. It's a bit of a power trip knowing you can turn a man into putty with just your hands or mouth. In the borrowed pajama top, her wand rests in special pocket. She unsheathes it and summons a bottle of warming lubricant. A few drops are placed in her hand so that it slides more smoothly and provides an additional sensation.

He becomes weak at the knees under her spell, moaning and gripping her hip for support. She licks her lips, pleased at her handiwork and pushes him to take a seat. Her fingers make quick work stripping off his sweater and undershirt, shoes and socks, and finally his pants and trousers. While he is fully on display, she keeps on the top. Draco's face reveals he's aching for her attention once more. Her hands slide up his thighs as she readies herself to pay her debt. She begins to lick him as if he was her favorite flavor of ice cream. Her tongue and lips try to memorize his curves, bumps, and grooves and what actions elicit pleasurable responses. When she finally takes him in, his sounds of rapture make her heart race. Her hands continue to stroke him—there is only so much that can fit in her mouth. Every bob of her head inches him closer to the edge. Her eyes pierce his, reminding him she is the one in control. Draco thought having her 'service' him would put him in the dominant role, but it seems to be quite the opposite—for now.

"Are you going to stay clothed?" Draco pants. The words barely escaping his lips as he holds the side of her face.

She doesn't answer him, instead, increases her pace and ferocity. His movement signal he's creeping closer to the finish line.

Draco has had enough of being her plaything and pulls away. "Get off your knees. Take everything off and sit on my cock. Then I'll consider this debt paid." His command is so powerful and sexy, but she isn't ready to relinquish her power just yet.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember, that as terms of our agreement. You said I have to 'service you,'" she tsks, purses her lips to the side and places her finger on her chin as if she was mulling over a contract. "That language does seem vague. I believe you found a loophole and I must oblige." She has such control over everything else in her life, to have someone else take the lead was freeing.

When he finally sees all of her, it's like unwrapping a Christmas present. She slowly lowers herself over him, and he can feel the wetness that had built up. He gasps as she grips his shoulders for support. Her hips gently rock, aching to relieve the tension. The foreplay had been fun, but excruciating. Her pace increases as they find their rhythm. Her fingers run through his hair and grab a tuft while she aggressively grinds into him.

He bites her shoulder, and she emits a sound that triggers his need to please. His teeth drag along her skin and seeking sensitive parts of her body to taste and nibble.

Not one to be outdone, she grabs his hand and starts sucking on his fingers while continuing to ride him. Draco is lost in the moment and loves how forward Hermione is with her lovemaking. She slowly pulls the fingers out of her mouth, then places both of his hands on her arse and moans, "Squeeze. Hard." He is more than happy to comply.

Their movements are so wild, for a moment, he fears that the antique chaise will break under them. He attempts to lift her off the chaise and bring her to the bed, but the change in position heightens the sensation and makes them both come. They fall back into the chair; thankful it hasn't broken yet.

"You are turning me into a very naughty girl," She says to him.

"I am? Don't kid yourself. I think you've always been naughty, but were never let out of your cage. If you continue to be so savage, you'll destroy my family heirlooms." They remain coupled while he returns to normal.

She then runs her fingernails down his chest. "I love that you aren't intimidated to challenge me."

"I will gladly challenge you over and over and over again."

"Well maybe only once tonight. I didn't get to sleep all day like some people. I need some rest and still have to wake up early and get ready at home. I wish I just brought everything."

"Just run home real quick and grab a few things. I have plenty of room in my drawers and closet."

She finally dismounts him and says, "Maybe I will." She puts his pajama top and her panties back on. Before she leaves, she finally remembers to text Ginny.

—xoxox—

Hermione: Hey. How did it go? Mostly moved out?

Ginny: Yeah. We are actually at the Summer House with Ron still. Trying to get him settled. He's clammed up and quiet. Where have you been?

Hermione: At the kids' new pub. Did Albus tell you? Rose and Scorpius said nothing to me about it.

Ginny: Yes! He was so excited and told me he got interviewed by Polly Chapman earlier today. I'm going to read the draft when I get into the office tomorrow.

Hermione: Oh, that's who that was! I didn't recognize her with the blue hair and tattoos. She could be a good fit for Albus...

Ginny: We will see ;) Apparently, she asked him out in the middle of their interview.

Hermione: You're kidding! Well, I can't wait to read this article now.

Ginny: I do like her. If I could get at least one of my children to settle down I will be thankful.

Hermione: Come on. This is Albus we are talking about. Like he would settle down?

Ginny: I have a good feeling about this. Call it mother's intuition.

Hermione: Oh, Gin. But it's safe for me to head home now? Is no one there?

Ginny: You are free to enjoy your solitude. Or not ;)

Hermione: lol thanks, Gin!

—xoxox—

"I just had to text Ginny to make sure no one was at the house. Okay. I'll be right back." She gives him a quick kiss and heads home.

After passing through the grate, she heads up to her closet; it is spacious and very well organized. It is full of suits, dresses, robes, coats, and everyday wear. She spots her vintage Burberry military style jacket with gold metal and embroidery details and a matching pencil skirt with a gold zipper that runs along the full length of the back seam. She pairs it with an emerald blouse, emerald stud earrings, and black patent leather pumps. Thinking this might become a habit, she grabs a few random pieces of lingerie and casual clothes she can leave at his place. Last order of business, makeup and toiletries. She stuffs them into her Chanel clutch, which is, of course, enchanted with an undetectable extension charm.

When she returns to his room, he's confused as to why she's only carrying a small handbag. Once she puts her whole arm inside of it, everything makes sense. They walk to the closet, and she begins to hang her things. He sees what she has pulled out and approves. "Is my sense of style rubbing off on you?"

"For your information, this is vintage, and I've been waiting a few years for it to come back in style, but I did take your suggestion about wearing green."

"Hmm." He's not convinced and helps put away her things. They get ready for bed and seem content doing some of the most mundane things together such as washing their faces and brushing their teeth. It's so wonderfully ordinary and reminds him the little things are just as enjoyable as incredibly passionate moments. They crawl into bed and set their alarms. Hermione rests her head on a pillow while he spoons her. Suddenly she feels his growing erection against her backside.

"Draco, we need to sleep. I have a big day at work and the interviews. Don't forget you also have things to do."

"I can't help it. He has a mind of his own."

It seems that her body also had a mind of its own as she began grinding on him. "Okay. One more time then we sleep."

Thanks for reading. If you can't wait for me to finish all the uploads to FFN, the story is complete on my AO3. Same penname :)

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