This work is complete at 31 chapters and ~127,000 words. I'll be submitting a chapter a day through March until it's all up.
Chapter 29: Summer Waning
Draco definitely did not want to wake up when he felt his body coming out of it. The only good thing about being conscious was how closely pressed he laid against Dagmar. At some point in the night, whether he meant to or not, he'd snuck a hand up Dagmar's shirt to hold one of her breasts.
Even if he didn't have to go to the bathroom, Draco would've taken it back. His memories of last night were murky at best, although he was confident they hadn't fooled around. He hoped they hadn't anyway, given how much effort it took even while sober to restrain himself with Dagmar.
After emptying his bladder and downing a large glass of water to counter his headache, Draco headed back to bed. He came to again with fresh need to pee in the brightly lit bedroom.
"Good morning," Dagmar said behind him when Draco sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Oh—morning," he replied.
She had set her pillows against the headboard so that she could sit up. Dagmar's legs remained bridged under the covers and the little black book Draco had loaned her the day before sat open against her thighs.
"How're you feeling?" she asked.
"Okay, I think." Draco rubbed his eyes. "Bit gross."
"No surprise there."
Draco headed off to the bathroom with his glass. He topped it off at the tap before returning. It definitely felt better to be horizontal than upright. Draco laid on his back with his eyes closed, listening to Dagmar occasionally turn the page.
A niggling thought tugged at Draco's mind. "Did we do anything last night?"
"Nei."
That was good, then. It was for the better. That way, Draco didn't have to worry about anything his drunk self might decide was worth taking a gamble on when it came to pushback from Dagmar.
Draco opened his eyes when a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder. "How's the reading going?"
"Good." Dagmar shrugged. "I honestly wasn't even going to bother, but I figured since I woke up before you. . .why not, it was something to do."
"What part are you at?"
"Currently learning so much about the menstrual cycle."
Draco chuckled. The whole thing had remained a mystery to him up until he got this book. He'd thought that girls got it all at once during the full moon. He knew when Pansy had hers because she wouldn't even let him touch her, but Draco never clued in that it didn't actually happen while the moon was biggest.
"Honestly, I thought the lot of you bled like you peed," Draco said. "It sounds a lot worse than I thought."
"It's not fun, I'll grant you that." Dagmar set the book aside and opted to lay down with him instead. "You get used to it, but some are definitely worse than others. I had an easy one while I was in Nice so I'm expecting to have a terrible time the first week back to Hogwarts. Oh boy."
"Must suck to have that interrupt your life."
"Well, when you've had it long enough you don't really let it get in the way." Dagmar shrugged. "It does take some extra consideration, which can be annoying. When I was in Nice, I would've rathered not have to worry about bleeding through my bathing suit, or not finding a bathroom when I had to change things out. Plus, walking around feeling like someone has your uterus in a death grip is not great."
"I think I'd rather spring random boners," Draco replied.
Dagmar laughed. "Me too. I'm a bit jealous."
"Until it happens somewhere you can't hide it."
"I suppose."
Dagmar ran her fingers over Draco's abdomen on top of the blanket. Although he considered himself to be in a fairly good mood, he couldn't ignore that Dagmar studied him with a hint of shrewdness. "What's up?"
"Just thinking." Dagmar shrugged. "I wanted to ask you something about last night, but it might be a touchy subject."
Draco furrowed his brow.
"I'm not sure what you remember, but I was only trying to undress you for bed and you reacted. . ." Dagmar hesitated, thinking, "weird? Like if I was wanting to fool around or something, that you really weren't up for it. Which is fine—if you don't want to, you don't want to. But you were. . .I don't know, I guess I'm asking if you've ever been taken advantage of while drunk before."
Draco's stomach dropped unpleasantly. "No."
"Okay." Dagmar edged closer. "I know that's a really personal question to ask either way. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't making you uncomfortable. I'd feel terrible if I did."
"No, it's. . ."
Draco worked his lips together. His past issues with consent were always in the back of his mind as of late, and quite often came to the forefront of it as he navigated this new relationship with Dagmar. Until now, when Dagmar had read far enough into the black book to understand where he was coming from, Draco had nobody to talk to about it. He didn't like the light it would put him into, and he would much rather work to fix his skewed perception about bodily autonomy than dwell.
"It was me that was the problem," Draco admitted with difficulty. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Dagmar just in case he might see disappointment or—worse—disgust there. "My father gave me that book maybe an hour or two after my mum told me that they wanted me to marry you instead of Pansy. The first thing you read in it is that bit about consent, and I immediately felt sick with myself. We've talked a bit about how my relationship with Pansy was, but until I actually had it laid out for me like that I didn't have any idea how all over the map with that we were."
Dagmar's fingers moved in a rhythmic motion on his chest while she thought. "You mean like how she always defaulted to you and whatever you wanted?"
Draco nodded. "It's hard to say looking back just how many times she did something she didn't want to, just because I did. I want to say I respected whatever boundaries she put up, but that wasn't always the case. There were a couple times I pushed her on it. I knew she'd give in."
Hot shame to actually admit it aloud, especially to someone that certainly wouldn't tolerate such gross behaviour, broiled Draco. His skin crawled and he wished he could just slip out of it. He couldn't even turn his face back toward Dagmar. How did she even stand to touch him?
"Were you never talked to about this stuff before you got the book?" she asked.
Draco shook his head. "Not really. I had a vague idea because, well, it's not exactly hard to understand. I thought because Pansy put me in charge and made it all up to me that that meant it was all right. I ignored when it didn't feel right because I didn't think it was based on anything. Pansy had said it was fine. I never thought about that changing with the situation. If she wasn't into it, I should've stopped. I should've, but I didn't."
"I get why you would've been confused," Dagmar said. "From what you've told me, she never really seemed to have any boundaries."
"She did have some," Draco replied. "She didn't like me touching her hardly at all when she was on her period. I left her alone on that. At the same time, I don't want to say something like 'well at least I. . .' because I don't really think I deserve not to feel like hot dung for the damage I might've done otherwise. I think that if I didn't get a chance to start over, things with Pansy were so far-gone they probably wouldn't be fixable. I have no idea how to fix something like that. I don't even know if it's possible. My knee-jerk reaction is to clear my conscience by apologizing to her, but I'm also terrified that she might not see it as a problem right now, and then she might realize it was if I said something, and then if she's angry I broke up with her. . .that's not exactly an accusation anyone ever shakes."
"Nei, it's not."
Confirmation of that made Draco's stomach burn as if he'd been drunk enough last night to spend this morning bent over the toilet. He barely trusted himself to open his mouth again.
"Sounds to me like you were a couple of dumb kids," Dagmar said. "I don't want to blame Pansy for anything either, but it doesn't exactly sound to me like she cared enough to say no. If she had some well-defined boundaries and you respected that, it makes me wonder why she didn't in other situations. She knew you'd listen."
"I don't know if it's just the way she is, or if she just didn't know any better either. I don't want to let myself off the hook by going with the one I hope for."
"I think you're beating yourself up more than you need to," Dagmar told him. "It takes a big man to recognize he cocked up like that, but for me the important take-away is that as soon as you knew better, you changed your behaviour. It would've been a point of concern if you read that part of the book and just thought 'oh well, this doesn't apply to me' or 'Pansy didn't care, therefore all women don't'. You didn't, though. You took the opportunity to self-reflect on what harm you may have inflicted upon someone you cared about, and you corrected it. I've certainly never felt disrespected in that way. No matter what state you've been in—stone sober, turned on, or drunk—you've never compromised. You've never made an excuse for yourself."
Draco slowly nodded. It didn't let him off the hook when it came to Pansy, but he'd proven to himself that this newer way of treating his partner was sustainable. Not only that, but it had both quickened and deepened Draco and Dagmar's trust in each other. There were things they'd done and conversations they had that Draco didn't think he ever would have with Pansy.
He still resisted when Dagmar tried to turn his face back toward her. She smiled when he would finally meet her eye, stroking his cheek with her thumb.
"You're a good man, Draco," she told him. "Never let anyone make you believe otherwise."
"I'll try."
"That includes you."
After the dinner party, Dagmar couldn't make anymore excuses about why she shouldn't start studying ahead of NEWT year.
The summer was drawing to a quick close. Dagmar could feel it in the air, how Draco's bedroom cooled off by dawn if they left the window open at night. It was of course a good excuse to cuddle up under the blankets, but more often than not Dagmar came to with Heimdall having wormed his way beneath the covers as well.
Dagmar quickly fell back into the habit of studying, reading for several hours at a time, although still had her distractions. Her focus would bend completely away from whatever book she slogged through when Draco touched her.
It was like he knew exactly how to, to make something happen. Dagmar's blood would warm as soon as she registered any kind of intent in Draco's fingers. If he ran them up Dagmar's inner thigh meaning to navigate past her knickers, he'd find her already wet.
Fooling around as punctuation for their study sessions invoked in both of them a heightened sense of exploration. Dagmar certainly grew more comfortable with how Draco's body worked, as well as the capabilities of her own. One of her favourite afternoons consisted of the two of them figuring out what it took to make Dagmar cum without touching her clit. With two of Draco's fingers, patience, and a healthy dose of attention to other parts of her, Dagmar was reduced to less than a quivering puddle by the end. She would've been embarrassed about how she acted if it didn't clearly turn Draco on so much.
She was quickly getting to the point where even just looking at Draco left Dagmar wanting. As soon as they found relief together, Dagmar would begin winding up again for the next encounter. She was left a little distraught that nothing could quite scratch this itch. It was beginning to infringe on the quality of her studying.
Dagmar was laying on her stomach one warm afternoon, head toward the foot of the bed with her Arithmancy textbook open in front of her, when the familiar initial wave of heat rolled down her body. Draco's Herbology textbook furrowed his brow with concentration beside her.
His gaze lifted from it when Dagmar shifted to lay on her side facing him. She wasn't the only one that had been conditioned to know when the other one's mind bent toward them. Draco put up no resistance to Dagmar removing the book from his lap and replacing it with herself. It was no wonder—she could feel him poking her already through his shorts. He lifted his knees, pressing their torsos together while they kissed.
Draco's hands roamed up the back of Dagmar's shirt. "What're you thinking?"
It had become a common question between them. Dagmar long lost any bashfulness toward answering it. She was comfortable telling Draco what she wanted, or what she wanted to do for him. The prospect of saying something new brought back a degree of her old shyness.
She moved her mouth to Draco's ear, pressing her lips to the shell. "I think it's about time you were inside me."
Draco stilled. Dagmar pulled back to find a fresh seriousness written all over him. "Yeah?"
"I'm getting to the point now where I can't really say why we haven't." Dagmar nodded. "I'm ready."
One side of Draco's mouth lifted, headed toward a smirk, but it developed into a smile instead. It flickered away when Dagmar came close again, their foreheads touching before their noses brushed, followed by their lips. Dagmar already wanted him so badly she didn't know how she'd stand any sort of wait. It was probably for the best that Draco didn't rush them, but Dagmar was having a hard time seeing things that way at the moment.
Her shirt rucked up to the dip of her waist from Draco's wandering hands. Dagmar thought it sweet how he only stopped kissing her to nuzzle her chest through the material. She helped him out by pulling it up over her head. Before she'd managed to free her chin from the neckline, a warm mouth closed around one of her nipples. She did what she could not to lose contact with Draco, but she jostled herself free of him. The lingering wetness from his mouth cooled her in the room's slight breeze before he reattached himself.
Dagmar lifted his chin for a kiss. "I'm probably not going to need much warm-up."
"I'll keep that in mind."
That's what Draco usually said when he was still determined to do things his own way. Dagmar grinned regardless when her back found the bed, Draco's weight following. He'd made it as far down as her sternum before Dagmar interrupted him by pulling his shirt off. She tossed it on the floor somewhere around where hers had landed.
To Draco's credit, he sort of took her need for haste into account when he slipped off her shorts and knickers. Rather than tease her by licking and nibbling her inner thighs, he dove straight in. He looked up when Dagmar ran her fingers through his hair, propped up on her other elbow so she could watch. He still had something in mind, judging by the glint in his gaze.
Dagmar raised her hips when Draco slipped a couple fingers inside her. It didn't take long for her to figure him out. Whenever she came close to the point of no return, Draco would ease off her clit and pay that attention to her thighs instead. Dagmar couldn't even be mad because while she hoped for relief, her own body betrayed her. She could feel her pelvic muscles tightening around Draco's fingers. Once they relaxed again, he'd carry on.
"You are the worst kind of bastard," she told him.
"Mhm." The vibration from his acknowledgement only made it worse.
Dagmar didn't think she could be relieved when Draco let off and came back up her body. Her hands shook as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of his shorts and pushed them down. Draco needed to back off from where he'd latched onto Dagmar's neck to properly remove them. Dagmar felt a smug sense of satisfaction at how he shivered when she stroked him.
"See how you like it," she said.
Draco chuckled. "Just fine, actually."
Dagmar couldn't keep on when Draco leaned over her again. She preferred to wrap her arms around his shoulders anyway as both invitation and a means to ground herself. Every time Draco's erection poked her thigh or between her legs, her anticipation managed to grow.
"Hold on a second," he bid her.
While he'd gone down on her, Dagmar had pulled one of the pillows from the head of the bed toward her for comfort. Draco grabbed another and asked Dagmar to raise her hips. He kneeled between her legs. Draco hesitated when Dagmar ran her hand over where he held one of her hips, but merely returned her smile.
Dagmar suppressed the urge to tense up when Draco ran himself up and down her flesh before pressing at her entrance. She didn't expect it to go easy, no matter how worked up she was, but she trusted that it wouldn't be painful either. That didn't mean it would be comfortable. She couldn't help but tense up at the intrusion, her grip tightening on Draco's hand.
He pulled back out. "All right?"
"Ja, just. . .try again."
Dagmar bent all her focus against tensing up, for that had made it worse once she did. As Draco eased in it wasn't feeling any better, but it wasn't getting any worse either. She'd thought it would be more similar to him fingering her than it was, but there was no adjustment to be made against Draco's girth. It was either all or nothing.
"Still good?" Draco asked.
Dagmar nodded, expression pinched. "Getting used to it."
"I'm almost all the way, if that makes you feel better."
Behind the veil of discomfort, Dagmar hadn't really been able to tell how far he was. She reached down to feel for herself. Only about an inch separated their bodies where they connected.
Dagmar took a steadying breath. "Will you come here, then?"
She winced a little as Draco eased down, for his hips came to rest against her thighs. It did feel better to have his weight back, as well as lips—however unfocused—against hers. More so than usual, every time Draco so much as shifted, Dagmar was completely attuned to it.
Draco looked in pain when he broke their kiss. "Can I move?"
Dagmar nodded. "Just start slow."
He kept their hips together while he did, which seemed to help. Dagmar held Draco's shoulders, ready to tense if it hurt again, but it stayed at about the same level of discomfort as she'd started with. It might be starting to get better, actually.
The tension in Draco's back melted when Dagmar kissed him again. Even the simplest contact turned into something much more acute with this degree of intertwinement. Dagmar winced again when Draco pulled out a bit to sink back into her, but what was good about it definitely overshadowed her body's lack of experience for this. She needed to turn her face away from Draco in hopes to get full lungs of air during her next breath. He took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck. Dagmar shivered when she felt his tongue, followed by a gentle nibble.
As Dagmar's body adjusted to the intrusion, Draco had to pay less mind to every little move he made. It made it almost hard to meet Draco's gaze because he still managed to be so intense about it. His eyes were soft, and yet their grey shade had turned steely. He was watching her carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort. If Dagmar's cheeks as much as pulled a certain way, he would ease off a little. The natural rhythm he fell into helped. With each thrust back in, he was angled right at her g-spot. His pubic bone slid up against her clit.
Draco had Dagmar so pinned she couldn't move, but it didn't matter. It only felt good now, him filling her up, his weight pressing her into the bed and making it groan beneath them. Hot breath pelted Dagmar's shoulder and the earthy smell of them combined teased her nostrils. When Dagmar put her lips against Draco's shoulder, his sweat's saltiness added to his usual taste.
She met his gaze again, however difficult when it burned into her so hot. Physically, Dagmar was helpless to him. She had no control whatsoever over what he did. Rather than scare Dagmar, she found herself smiling before stroking his cheek as encouragement to kiss her. She trusted him. She trusted him, and he'd handled that so far with all necessary prudence to make sure it wasn't wasted—not just here and now, but ever since the beginning. Where else could Dagmar have expected to find herself, but giving herself completely and fully to the one and only Draco Malfoy?
"That feels really good," she murmured against his lips.
"No more discomfort?" he asked.
Dagmar shook her head. "None at all."
She ran her hands down Draco's waist, fascinated by how he moved. Dagmar scratched his back out of habit, but had to mind herself. If she lost herself too much in everything else, she needed to consciously relent on digging her nails in. There didn't seem to be much point to trying. Every time Dagmar checked in on herself, she was doing it again.
Too much of a good thing started Dagmar's body on a slow wind. She didn't expect at all to cum during her first time since she knew it wasn't common, but she also didn't know what else to expect when she fell in with a partner so experienced and considerate.
"Keep doing that," she hastily breathed.
Draco's chin pressed into Dagmar's shoulder as he nodded. Dagmar trembled underneath him, the odd bit of exhalation grazing her vocal cords. That she was completely lost spurred Draco on, which only made Dagmar more helpless against what he was doing to her, and from there the cycle was unescapable. She teetered on what felt like the edge for agonizingly long. Something eventually shifted and heat flushed down Dagmar's inner thighs like hot wax. She pressed her mouth against Draco's shoulder to stifle herself crying out. While it might have saved anyone walking by from hearing her, Draco met it with an expletive of his own as new resistance gripped him in Dagmar's core.
A bath of endorphins soaked Dagmar's entire system. Lungs full of air were hardly enough for her to catch her breath. Her face felt hot, along with everything else. She still trembled. While Draco had stopped moving, he was still hard inside of her.
She lightly scratched the back of Draco's neck. "Didn't you cum?"
"Not yet." Draco shook his head. "But if we hadn't fooled around already today, that would've definitely done it."
"Oh, really?"
"Absolutely." Draco's hips pressed purposely against Dagmar's again, pushing her legs back up. "Arms and legs wrapped around me, and then how tight you went? It was the fullest hug I've ever gotten."
They laughed their way into a new kiss, after which Draco's head returned to Dagmar's shoulder. She was slightly relieved he was so quickly lost in it again he couldn't see her fresh wince. They'd been in this position for too long, according to her hips. She couldn't find a comfortable way to lay in the minimal range of movement she had. At least judging by how Draco started to pant and shiver, he couldn't be long. Dagmar hated to cheat by whispering in his ear, but at this point all that probably mattered to Draco was the end. She at least learned something interesting: while telling him how good he felt in English had a noticeable effect, it was switching to Norwegian that did it for Draco. Dagmar was also surprised to find out that, like Draco could feel her orgasm, so she could his. He pulsed inside her, everything felt a little wetter (she didn't think that would be possible at this point), and then he started to soften.
His hot breath hit her neck in pants. All of Dagmar at this point felt wet with sweat if not other bodily fluids, and her thighs were starting to cramp up along with her hips.
"Hey." She lightly nudged him. "I'm sorry to boot you, but I'm getting sore."
"Oh. Sorry."
Draco raised himself on shaky arms. Dagmar wasn't expecting how empty she felt when he slipped out of her. After the trouble her body had given her on initially allowing Draco to fit, now it gave the impression it'd be better suited if he stayed perpetually.
Dagmar sighed with relief when she stretched her legs straight. Her hips cracked loudly, but the cramps that had started in her thighs and abdomen lingered. No doubt she'd be feeling this for a while. When she made to move off the pillow she stilled, eyes wide.
Draco laid beside her. "Something wrong?"
"Pass me a tissue, would you?"
Dagmar wadded it up to use as a stopper against Draco's cum seeping out of her. Although Draco made room for her to beeline for the bathroom, Dagmar couldn't move without bearing down on her core. Maybe with all the feel-good chemicals still soaking her and Draco looking a mess as he stood beside the bed, Dagmar dissolved into uncontrollable, silent laughter. She wound up clenching the tissue between her legs so that she could use both hands to cover her face.
"Go. Just go." Draco laughed too. "There's nothing elegant about it. Just go."
"I can't."
That much force from Dagmar's stomach muscles left the one tissue Draco had handed her in no condition for its job. Draco sat down leaned over his knees, his back trembling as Dagmar plucked a couple new tissues from the box. Since Draco wasn't paying attention, Dagmar took the chance to swap out for fresh ones and bolt into the bathroom. She figured peeing might do more to help than continuous wiping, but she cut herself off mid-stream with a gasp when Draco ambled in.
"Out!"
He turned on his heel. "Whoops, didn't hear you going."
Dagmar could at least believe that. She was quiet because she took it slow. Everything was still a bit swollen, and this felt like more effort than usual.
The good news was Dagmar found no signs of blood when she cleaned up. She didn't think her body had given up that much of a struggle, especially since Draco was so diligent on making sure she was properly ready to accept a larger intrusion than usual. She pulled one of his shirts on in the closet on her way out, meeting Draco at the door, and did a sly check of the sheets as well before heading to her bag for a new pair of knickers. If there was any blood there, Draco had already cleaned it up with a quick spell. Even their sweat was gone.
She crawled back into bed feeling like she'd climbed a mountain. Everything ached and general weakness kept her from so much as lifting an arm without it trembling in protest. She laid one of them along with a limp leg over Draco when he joined her in fresh boxers under the covers. Despite her overall soreness, Dagmar was impossibly happy. She'd certainly found a way to calm down the relentless need for Draco that wracked her lately.
Draco sighed. "Bloody hell."
"Mhm."
He ran his fingers over Dagmar's leg. "I'm wrecked."
"Me too," Dagmar agreed. "I figured I'd be sore, but not like this. My bits feel fine, it's literally everything else."
Draco smiled. "Well, that's good at least. Nothing hurt during, did it?"
"Just my hips. I don't think I can lay like that for so long, or maybe it just takes practice."
"Oh. . ." Draco resituated against the pillow they shared. "I'm sure we'll find the time for that."
