Red Silverweed. Glass bottle, most likely dried. It had to be here…
The feel of his lips, softer than sin. And so warm. Merlin, she could still feel his breath on her neck, raising the small hairs that lined the tender skin all over again.
Would it maybe be brewed? Stored with the wet herbs? It is a lake weed after all…
Draco's long thin fingers, dancing on her back, grasping her neck, cupping her face. They were so strong and rough, and yet so very gentle.
Damn it Hermione. Pay attention.
The darkness and gloom of that seemed to be a permanent part of the potion's lab was dispelled by Draco's softly glowing wand. It illuminated the area around the two of them which meant that wherever she went, looking for the allusive ingredient, he'd have to follow. Closely.
Neither one of them seemed at all at ease. Her face was flushed, hot from what they had done and what she knew she still wanted to do. And by the looks of it, his own war raged behind those silver blue eyes.
Merlin, it felt raw. And good.
But with Draco?
Her nemesis, her most hated school bully. A tormentor and competitor in all her academics. And in those darker, later years, a shadow in her nightmares as she lay on the marble floor of Malfoy manor. She'd sworn that if she'd ever met him again after the battle at Hogwarts, Hermione would hex him stupid, or at the very least be colder then ice.
But she wasn't. She was the opposite.
It felt like there was a new and strange fire burning her from the inside. Something she hadn't had with any other person.
How could she have allowed this to happen? And so quickly.
He was attractive. That she'd known 10 years ago.
The man was brilliant, too. Always had been. Second in their class, only behind her.
Now, though, she found he was witty and gentle. Deeply keen and wiser than the Draco of their youth. His trials away from the wizarding world had grown him. They had turned him into something she found herself intensely attracted to.
A flash of chills rent her body, both from unsatisfied want, and then from stark shame. Bottles of miscellaneous ingredients rattled as she clumsily shuffled through the shelves.
He was dying. Because of her. And all she could think about was… him and the things she wanted to do to him. With him. But none of that was even on the table. He'd be dead in a week if she couldn't gather everything she needed.
And the last ingredient on her list… that might be the nail in his coffin.
This attraction would only lead to distraction and that was something Hermione couldn't have.
"Hermione?" His voice was low and merely above a rumble, but it was enough to shock her from her morbid thoughts.
She glanced back to see his face. Though he tried to hide it, Hermione could see the concern and guilt pull at his sharp features. He smirked quickly and nodded towards an ancient tall black cabinet lined with about three dozen separately dried hanging bushels of vegetation.
Each unique and powerful plants were wrapped simply in a thin brown twine. A slip of parchment had the name scrawled elegantly though clearly in pearlescent green ink.
"Red Silverweed!" Hermione whispered thankfully, grabbing the crimson tainted leaves.
Her relief was palpable, leaving her knees shaking and breath hitching. She should have been thinking clearly, should have known it would be dried, not bottled. Warm liquid threatened to spill over the edge of her eyes, but before they could Draco's strong fingers lightly gripped her shoulder, turning her to look at him.
"Are you ok?" He asked, holding her gaze. Intense pools of silver searched her face and in them she saw concern and something darker.
"Draco, I'm sorry about-,"
"It's ok."
"But your hurt."
Hermione could practically hear his teeth gritting and even though her blood was rushing and her heart was thundering, she couldn't shake the chills that raced her spine.
"Hermione Granger, you frustrating witch." And with that he spun on his heal and marched to the potions room door, pausing to wait for her.
"I swear Malfoy, I just don't understand you." Hermione muttered, stuffing the silverweed into her bag and fixing her cloak. Cheeks burning but chin held high, she marched to the waiting figure cloaked in darkness.
"We should…" She paused. Hermione didn't know what to say. The nights adventure had finally broken down the wall of calm confidence she'd tried so hard to build.
"Head back to the room." Draco supplemented, offering her his hand.
That gesture, simple and made with such abandon had Hermione reeling. Maybe she didn't need to understand him. Maybe she needed to simply let him be Draco.
She slipped her hand into his, enjoying it's cool strength. He squeezed slightly and then without a word pulled her into the inky darkness of the halls.
This castle and these long mysterious corridors held so many memories for her. Good and bad. They helped carve the person she was, molded her into the Hermione that braved the wilds for knowledge.
But they felt almost new to her now. This adventure, the one she shared with a boy named Draco, was proving to be just as impactful. And just as terrifying.
Only once as the traversed the hallowed halls, did they have to halt, pushing back against an ancient statue as a resident ghost drifted by lazily. Hermione, still gripping his hand, fought the battle of annoyance and fear, waging an internal war that left no winner.
Once they reached the room of requirements, entering quickly and soundlessly, she couldn't take the strain of silence any longer.
"I shouldn't have taken advantage-," Hermione explained quickly, releasing his hand and pacing a few steps away in the hope that distance would make this easier.
"Enough!" He barked, a look of frustration and heat making his silver eyes nearly blaze.
"Draco, seriously! Despite how I feel, I know it wasn't right and you hated me-"
Again, he interrupted her but this time it was with his mouth crashing into hers. In an instant, Draco's body was pressed against hers, the heat searing through layers of fabric. Those long fingers tightly gripped the nape of her neck, turning her head slightly giving his mouth a decided advantage over hers.
Those warm and soft lips stole over hers, demanding something, everything. All thoughts were wiped from her mind as she gave into this passion. This reckless lust.
Hermione couldn't help but gasp when he spun them around, pushing her body into the door they'd only just entered through.
He took advantage and slipped his tongue inside her mouth, caressing her in a way no man had before. The flame now became an inferno, engulfing her entire body as she arched into him. Strong hands danced across her hips, her stomach, her thighs and swirls of need rose into her lungs.
Strong fingers gripped her thighs and with a single movement, he lifted her legs, wrapping them greedily around his waist.
"Draco." She gasped as his lips trailed a searing path down her neck. At the sound of his name he bit the tender flesh just above her collar bone, this causing another long moan from her.
Three tiny pings echoed off the floor as the buttons of her blouse fell, each having been snapped off by Draco's quick fingers. He wasted no time, undressing her. All the while keeping her mouth busy with fiery kisses and rough caresses.
"I need-," Hermione huffed, tugging hungrily at his shirt. She could feel him smile against her neck, sending shivers down her spine as his teeth grazed the tender flesh.
"What Hermione." His voice was rough and raw, and so very erotic that it made her knees feel like pudding. His hips ground into her center and felt the full length of him held back only by the thin fabric of his pants. "What do you need?"
The sound that came from her throat could only be described as a whine, one she was sure she'd never made before. Like a cat crying for food.
"Hermione." Draco rumbled, his hands stilled their dance across her bare back.
"Need you." She barked, hating that her cheeks flamed even more. "Need your bloody clothes off, and I need you! Now!"
His laugh, so unexpected and yet so sinfully desirable made her nearly mad.
"I like when your bossy." Draco growled, taking another nip of her tender neck.
Hermione had a thought of hexing him, when he picked her up and with ease and tossed her onto the large plush bed that dominated the room.
A giggle tried to escape her lips but was cut short by a gasp as she felt his wicked lips begin a tortuous ascent. The heat of his skin snaked its way up her body, his mouth kissing a path from her belly button to her mouth leaving a trail of fire. Those long pale fingers, memorizing every inch of her, teasing, and raking until she cursed loudly.
As her hands explored him, she noticed quickly that he, too, had removed all offending articles of clothing. But she had no time to bask in his glory.
"I've wanted to do this for so long." He muttered deeply, his lips a ghost's hair away from hers. There was no time for reaction, not even if she was in the right mind to, because as soon as he spoke, he slid seamlessly into her.
Stars exploded behind her eyelids as he filled her wholly. Completely and utterly.
He never looked away, not for a moment as he ground his hips into her, slowly pushing deeper until there was no further to go.
"Ok?" He said through gritted teeth.
Hermione was still reeling from the utter chaos of having him fully seated within her, but his question, simple and yet so very staggering, made her fall even deeper into the hole of feelings she'd been warring over.
But this was no war. This was lust and passion and Draco. It was a suspended moment in time where only the two of them mattered, tangled in a sea of dark sapphire blankets.
"Yes." She whispered back, pulling his face down to hers as she kissed him with abandon, hoping to express everything in her heart without saying a word.
Slowly, he began to move in the rhythm that all men know. Each push taking him deeper, and her higher. Her whimpers became moans and Draco leaned back, hands grasping her lush hips. He began to trust harder, a look of primal pleasure as she gasped his name over and over again.
Their movements lost all grace as the crest of climax began to overcome them. His hips slammed into hers, and without hesitation, she pushed back into him, her orgasm wracking her body with an intensity she'd yet to discover.
Her name sounded like a prayer from his lips as his climax overtook him only a moment after her own, those long fingers digging into her hips as he came.
Their breaths were heavy, laden with the stress and wonder of unexpected coupling. Hermione, however, didn't want to come out of this haze, instead keeping her legs wrapped around Draco's trim waist as he twisted to lay beside her.
His stunning eyes gleamed with not so hidden satisfaction as he watched her closely.
A slow smile crept across her face as his words finally sank into her hazy conscious.
"You've wanted to do that? For how long?" She asked, her fingers tips lightly trailing the line of his collar bone, watching greedily as his Adams apple bobbed in response to the tender touch.
"A very, very long time." He gritted out, though she could see the lust swirl inside his pupils oddly giving her a sense of twisted power. Hermione tested it by using her nails to gently rake the delicate flesh of his abdomen, all the while watching as his nostrils flared slightly.
Draco grasped her hand, holding it close to his face.
"I swear to Merlin, Hermione." He muttered, kissing her palm in a way that was both tender and sinful.
She laughed as she spun in his grasp, pushing flush against him in a way that felt entirely too natural. After several moments of quiet, she felt his body relax, his arms coming around to embrace fully embrace her. Their breathing slowed and eventually both witch and wizard drifted off into a sleep that was without nightmares for the first time in years.
