I hope you've all had a lovely Saturday!
Huge thanks to my Alpha/Betas NuclearNik and Monica03, without them I would be a mess and this story would be a disaster. Also a huge thanks to my Omegas (pre-readers) MarshmallowMcGonagall, QuinTalon, and Weestarmeggie!
To everyone who reads, subscribes, bookmarks, comments/reviews, follows, reblogs, likes, etc: I appreciate you all SO VERY MUCH. With the length of my chapters and the editing process, it leaves little time to come back and interact (I'll still try, however!). I promise though, all of it makes me go starry eyed and flail about every single time.
It'd been a struggle for Hermione to keep her revelation to herself. She'd had to bite back the words on several different occasions; some moments were harder than others. Draco slept in her bed two nights in a row with her wrapped up in his arms, and it took everything in her to keep from mouthing the words against his hair, afraid he wasn't actually asleep and would figure her out too soon.
They were in the library again. He'd said he had something for her before taking her hand and leading her up the stairs. Her heart was thudding against her ribs in wild excitement over whatever bound knowledge he was about to share. That is, until they rounded the corner and turned into the one section she'd staunchly avoided. Divination still wasn't a subject she'd easily embrace. The tarot reading and Draco's attempt at Divination in their office had been undeniably fascinating, but the thought of studying it with no structural conversation from those who were actually learned, like Narcissa, was off-putting.
The whir of the ladder sliding along its track towards the large, pale, outstretched hand made her stop just before she ran into his back. She peeked up in time to see his raised brow as he glanced back over his shoulder. A flush roared to life across her cheeks, and she took half a step back. Almost reluctantly, he pulled his fingers from hers and ascended the ladder. She eyed the pointy-toed boots level with her gaze and tasted a snide comment on the back of her tongue as the silver snake buckles glinted in the sunlight.
It felt like yesterday and a thousand years all at once that she'd met him at the Huntress Fountain for the gala at the Pucey's. Her fingers traced along her left arm at the thought. She'd yet to lift the charm since she'd settled it back in place over the word engraved in her flesh, yet her fingertips could still trace it out without the aid of her sight.
His boots clicking on the hardwood floor as he reached the ground brought her eyes shooting back up to him and her hands dropping awkwardly by her side. In one hand he held a tall stack of small leather bound books on top of a pair of meatier tomes.
"Alright?"
She should have known he'd have seen her fingering the still invisible scar tissue. "Never better." Her mouth quirked at the corner, and she returned her eyes to the tall stack he was still balancing on one hand.
His eyes raked across her form as if double checking the claim before he snagged her hand, lacing their fingers together as he took her back to the large research tables. He laid out all the books in an order that only made sense to him, left to right.
"These are the journals of my Veela ancestors." He tugged on her hand to encourage her to have a look.
Her breath caught as she stepped closer, back in his personal space, and peered down at them—firsthand accounts of actual Veela and the stories that made up their lives. Her fingertips tingled with the urge to flip through the ancient pages. Frustration that she was just now getting to see these rumbled in the back of her mind, but it was quickly silenced with the reminder of why they'd been several shelves above her head, tucked away in the Divination section.
"I didn't bring them down for you to stand there and stare at them when it's obvious you want to pick them up and read, so go ahead. Look them over, read every last word if you wish."
His fingers slid out of hers as he moved to stand behind her, warm hands resting on her hips. The heat from his palms soaked through the sleeveless peach linen jumpsuit to warm her skin. His thumbs rubbed tandem circles, and she had to tamp down on the shiver that wanted to sneak up her spine.
Slim fingers darted out and plucked the very first diary off the wood. As soon as it was secure, he was guiding her backwards. A few short steps had Draco seated in the same chair she'd sucked him off in two days prior. He guided her sideways into his lap, one hand on her waist and the other resting on her thigh. She bit her bottom lip as she peeked from the corner of her eyes at him.
When she didn't settle in to read, his hands slid from her to rest on the arm rests. "Are you uncomfortable? Prefer to move to the sofa?"
She shook her head quickly, her curls slinging about with the motion, causing Draco to lean back further until she quit.
"What's wrong?"
"Erm, I just thought you were more, ah. What I mean to say is, erm…" She sighed as her eyes darted about, as if the words were hidden all around the library and were waiting for her to seek them out like an old newspaper puzzle. Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What I mean to say is that I thought there was some sort of protocol to follow in this courting business."
His brows furrowed in confusion and pulled low as he studied her. "What?"
"Erm, what I mean is, I know you come from a more conservative family, and so far you've seemed keen on keeping things more appropriate?" The end came out as a question, and she found herself wanting to scowl.
He snickered, and she glared at him, giving into the expression as she grabbed his hand from the arm rest, pulling it back down where it'd previously rested on her thigh. His fingers curled, lightly massaging the flesh beneath, and she repressed another shiver.
"That was purely because I didn't want to push you so fast so quickly. If we were going by the traditional courting rituals we'd be at the supervised outing stage still. Once we sleep together, that's it. The mating bond will be fulfilled and there's no going back."
"What if I don't want to go back?"
He was silent, examining her for a moment long enough to make her want to squirm. She tamped down on the desire and silently watched him.
"I want you to take time and seriously consider all the implications of that. As we are, you have the option of backing out. We'd forever be tied together, that bit is unavoidable, but I want you to be absolutely sure." Something flickered behind his eyes before it was gone.
Now that she'd recognized and accepted things for how they were, a piece of her recoiled at the idea of not being joined to him. Now that she hadn't rejected him it seemed as if their next hurdle to clear was potential regrets. There was no solution to that but time, so she would do as he asked.
"Alright. I'll take the time and do as you ask, but when I come back with my decision you have to respect whatever conclusion I come to and we move forward from there."
Draco nodded once before he pulled her to him and pressed his mouth hotly against hers, his eyes squeezed shut. Her hands slid up, one to grasp his waistcoat and one to thread into the silky hair at the nape of his neck as she kissed him back and leant into him.
He relaxed under her again and eventually pulled away, sliding his hand from her neck down to rest on her waist again. She stole another kiss before settling in his lap, opening the diary and beginning to read. She recognized at some point that while he was pretending to read his own book, he was watching her more than anything but said nothing as she sank back into the life of someone else.
The accounting of the Veela ancestor from the 1600's was fascinating and the pages sped beneath her fingers, eating up the measure of the life long past. When she reached the end, she realized that there was more yet to come of the life of Collette Malfoy and made to jump up to retrieve the next diary but found herself still restrained by the hands at her thigh and waist. She looked at him with a cocked brow.
"When was the last time you dueled?"
Of all the questions on Earth that was the last one she'd expected. "Why?"
"Just answer the question."
"But why do you want to know?"
His eyebrows climbed his forehead as he stared at her. "Because I do."
She clenched her jaw in order to keep from arguing but answered through her teeth. "Since the Battle of Hogwarts I suppose. Now, why." That time it was not a question but a command
"Because we need to get you brushed up on the skill. You may have dueled Bellatrix with Ginny but that was a long time ago, and you may not have the advantage of having a partner in future. Besides, it's gorgeous out and we need some time out of this house. Unless you want to go on a broom ride, then dueling practice can wait." He cut his eyes over to gauge her reaction.
It was a skill she had hoped she could leave behind her, which is why she ultimately became an investigator rather than an Auror. One on one fights she could manage, but the starbursts of color, loud bangs, and the screaming of her allies yanked her focus about too much for her to be as effective as she needed to be. She put that thought right out of her head, hoping beyond hope they could solve the case and stop whomever it was before she had to fight in another war.
There was only one "broom" she wanted to ride but he wasn't amenable to that at the moment. Her face must have shown her discontent with the idea because his hands were sliding from her so she could rise. "I'll meet you on the back lawn with your wand. No brooms." She nipped him on the jaw before hopping up and returning the journal to the table with the others.
She returned to her rooms to change into jeans, a jumper, and a pair of boots. By the time she'd made it outside, he was standing out in the grass, his sleeves rolled to above his elbows. The muscles in his forearms danced as he tapped his fingertips along his trousers. It was so strange to see him fidget, and she wondered if the prospect of dueling her made his Veela instincts react negatively.
It struck her at the strangest times how he could be doing something absolutely unremarkable and yet still be so beautiful without even trying. The autumn wind ruffled his hair as he stood in thought, likely wrestling with himself over what they were about to do. With a jolt, she realized she'd stopped moving entirely to admire him.
She got herself together and moved about twenty feet away, spinning to face him with her wand at her side. Draco studied her for a moment before he bowed. Dueling lessons felt like a lifetime before, when she'd dueled Millicent Bulstrode in order to try to steal one of her hairs, but she bowed, then rose and got into a dueling stance only to jerk in confusion when he began to prowl to the left. Instinctually she matched him, regaining the original distance between them.
"I thought we were dueling."
"We are." He fired off a stinging hex, causing her to jump to the side to avoid it. He fired off another almost immediately after the first and she was unable to dodge that one, yelping as it hit her in the hip. His other fist clenched as he raised his wand to fire off another spell. "Are you a witch or not? That stick of wood dangling from your fingers could be of some help if you'd use it rather than hopping around."
Her brain snapped back in place, and she cast a shield charm just in time to deflect a stunner. She kept her feet moving, attempting to match his stride and maintain the distance between them. "Then why are we circling like a couple of boxers?"
"Fisticuffs? Last resort measures only. Besides, do you think your opponent is just going to nicely stay still—" A yellow light of something nasty zinged towards her, barely leaving her any reaction time to deflect it. "—so it'll make hitting them ten times easier?"
She stayed silent. Talk was distracting, and she needed to strike before he hit her again with a barrage of spells. She sent a simple stunner his way and blinked when he didn't bother deflecting, then scowled when she realized he was practically immune.
"You'll have to do better than that, darling. Just pretend it's a shielding charm. Anything but the Killing Curse I can take, but I'd prefer if you'd refrain from fire or cutting charms."
She gritted her teeth, revulsion rolling through her at the idea of hitting him with anything beyond a stinging hex. He took advantage of her hesitation and stung her twice over before she could raise another shield. The welts began to throb as he forced her to move faster.
Jets of light shot back and forth between them as more and more places on her person were hit by invisible bees sent in little red sparks of light. Her breathing became labored the longer they went, and her magic began to strain with the effort. It was like a long unused muscle coming back to life and being worked out. Sweat rolled down her face and trickled down her back, absorbing into the jumper. Draco, however, hadn't even begun to turn pink. He looked perfectly normal as he waved his wand endlessly, firing off spell after spell after spell.
Suddenly they both called out a spell that met in the middle and reflected back upon their casters. Draco had already moved past the point where the reflecting spell would miss him entirely, but Hermione had frozen and took what should have blasted him off his feet directly to the chest. She flew backwards, landing on her back and bouncing as the air rushed out of her.
Her heart pounded and overtook her hearing as she tried to get her bearings. It made her jump in surprise when she finally opened her eyes to look up and see him standing directly over her, one foot on either side of her ribs. He crouched down and stuck his wand to her neck, eyebrow cocked.
She dropped her wand and raised her hands in surrender. She wasn't sure what she expected, perhaps for him to check to make sure she was okay, but it certainly wasn't an exasperated eyeroll.
"You gave in far too easy. I'm balanced on the balls of my feet, a precarious position, and you automatically surrender."
"You had your wand to my neck! I would've been dead!"
"You certainly will be if you just give in. You have to continue fighting. I just said a few minutes ago what you should save as a last resort method." He stuck his wand in the holster on his arm. "We clearly have a lot of practice to do."
Her hackles rose at that statement, and she clenched her jaw. She'd never taken criticism well and that clearly had not changed an iota.
His face softened, and he reached out a finger to trail it across her cheek tenderly, just below a welt.
"I didn't hurt you too badly, did I? I didn't anticipate us casting at the same time but it was too perfect a scenario to stop. I had to see what you'd do when you were down with nowhere else to go."
"Next time I'll be sure to do my best to claw your eyeballs out to compensate for my lack of action this time." She dropped her head back to the ground and groaned. "I feel like I've been the recipient of a hundred bee stings and my bum hurts, along with my pride. I hate your idea, by the way." She snatched her wand up and shoved it back inside her sleeve.
"You may hate it, but if you have a run-in with one of the wizards or witches from this new terrorist group without me, you need to be able to defend yourself at least enough to Apparate away." He took her hands and pulled her to her feet.
Hermione closed her eyes and groaned as the muscles in her back complained. She needed to take up running again, having gotten out of the habit during her accident and then getting so busy with work and Draco that it'd fallen by the wayside. The constant, lingering anxiety that'd always existed in the back of her mind and had only ever been soothed by the exercise had gone away thanks to his presence, and she'd gotten lazy.
He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hands up and down her back, soothing the hurt. "I think that's enough for today. We'll pick this back up tomorrow."
She squashed her face against his chest and let a groan leak out. There were better ways to end up flat on her back. With a mental groan she shoved the thought away. Now was not the time for her to pursue that line of thinking.
"Let's go in and get cleaned up. I have something to help with those stings."
She nodded and turned with him, sliding her arm around his waist as he pulled her against his side. He walked her to her rooms and leaned against the doorframe, watching as she shuffled through the closet. She could practically feel it as his eyes roved across her back.
"You just need your robe, although if you want something for afterwards don't let me stop you."
A green tiered smock dress caught her eye, and she rubbed the soft fabric between her fingers. That hadn't been there yesterday. She plucked it from its hanger and lay it across her arm. She'd never worn much green, except for the clothes she'd spelled to be so while on The Hunt.
"I'll only be a few minutes."
At his nod, she went to the bathroom and shut the door. She peeled her clothes off and tossed them in the hamper before waving her wand towards the shower. By the time she was in the stall, the temperature was perfect. She hissed as she scrubbed, not realizing until now just how many times his spells had hit and the frequency of them.
She finished up quickly and dried off with the help of magic, donning her robe afterwards. He was still leaning against the doorframe, this time with a jar of pale green cream in his hands.
His eyes took her in from her toes up to the top of her head. "Take your robe off and lie on the bed."
She bit her lip and pulled the garment open, letting it slide down her arms to gather at her wrists behind her before she tossed it across the trunk at the foot of the bed. The cool air pebbled her nipples.
"What was the point in even wearing it?"
"I wanted to watch you take it off for me."
Her eyes cut to the side at his answer to see him silently moving in her direction. She spun to face him and backed towards the bed, sitting when the mattress hit the backs of her thighs. He was in front of her then, stepping between her open thighs until there was only an inch or so between them.
She looked up, noting his blown pupils and how there was very little gray left at all.
"Center of the bed," he whispered.
She crawled backwards, watching as his eyes took in how her breasts swayed with the motion until she was finally in place.
He placed the small jar between the valley of her breasts. "Don't let that spill."
Draco settled in at her side and gathered a dollop of cream with two fingers. She sniffed as he spread it between his palms, warming it. It smelled strongly of mint, so much so she couldn't detect the underlying scents.
Her attention shifted to the feel of cool, tingling sensations as he started at her feet and worked his way up her legs, soothing each little welt. Slowly, the sore spots gave way to the icy sensations and faded out completely. He collected more cream in his hands, letting it warm again before working it into her hips, belly and up her rib cage.
She noticed that as it absorbed into her skin, it left her flesh exceptionally sensitive. A groan tore from her throat as he unexpectedly rubbed it into her breasts and nipples. Where they were normally sensitive, it was like she'd gained about a thousand extra nerve endings in the now stiffened peaks.
He blew a cool breath across them, eliciting a whimper.
The jar was suddenly gone, and her eyes flew back open to see him staring at her. "Flip."
She rolled over, biting her lip as her exceptionally hard nipples dragged against the fabric of the duvet. "You know, it's not exactly fair for me to be naked and you fully clothed."
The clink of glass got her attention, and she cracked an eye open. He'd put the jar down on the nightstand and had already shed his waistcoat. His nimble fingers worked the buttons and he yanked it from his trousers, tossing it on the chair. Next came his belt, and she couldn't stop herself from openly staring as the strip of black leather ran through his fingers as it whipped free from the belt loops.
She bit her lip and remembered a dream months ago, one of the first inappropriate dreams she'd ever had featuring him. He'd spanked her in that dream and while she'd been fascinated then, it took everything in her to refrain from asking him to strike her with it just once to sate her curiosity. Belatedly, she noticed he'd stopped moving while she'd been caught up in thoughts of his belt and her eyes shot up to his.
"I can't say I anticipated that." A wolfish grin curled his lips. "We'll have to experiment at a later time."
A shiver ran down her back, and her toes curled.
The belt joined the rest of his things as he divested himself of his shoes, socks, and finally his trousers. He wasn't wearing underwear, and his cock was more than half stiff. Her eyes drank him in, and she wanted to touch him, her fingers clenching the bottom of the pillow to keep herself from doing so.
"Happy?" he murmured as he climbed back on the bed to rest on his knees beside her.
She nodded rapidly. "Quite."
He placed the jar on her back, and she didn't have to be told this time not to let it tip over. He gave the back of her the same treatment, massaging in the cream from her toes up to her calves, thighs, and bum. He didn't hesitate to rub it between her cheeks, and she whimpered as the tingling intensified as he caressed her puckered hole. Hermione had to focus to keep from moving back against him and knocking over the jar. He hadn't said there would be consequences, but she somehow knew she wouldn't be pleased with the outcome.
His hands disappeared to collect more cream, and he regretfully moved on, working the rest of it into her back. She pulled her hair out of the way as he worked the remainder into her neck, shoulders, and arms, saving her hands for last.
"Flip," he rasped.
She did so as soon as she felt the glass leave her skin. The only place he hadn't applied the cream was her clit, and she desperately, desperately wanted that remedied. She squeezed her thighs together to attempt some sort of relief.
"Ever since that first night, where you agreed to let me pleasure you, I've wanted to know what you look like when you wank."
She licked her lips and whimpered. She'd fantasized about a similar scenario before and was now half regretting the request for him to strip.
He had just a bit of the cream left on his fingertips, likely gathered before the jar had been set aside. She watched as he spread the last bits across her mound, lips, and finally, finally spreading them apart to apply the last smear to her clit. Almost instantly she wanted to press her knees together at the tingling, and if she'd thought it'd been intense on her nipples, she'd hadn't at all been prepared for what it was doing to her most sensitive spot, and a strangled groan tore from her throat.
Her entire body was alight, able to feel everything from the cool air being pushed by the overhead fan to his warm breath as it ghosted over her calf as he settled himself between her thighs and raised her leg to kiss his way to the side of her knee.
"Will you do that for me, Hermione? Will you touch yourself and allow me to watch as you come apart?"
She clenched her fingers in the bedclothes and nodded. Anything he wanted.
Their only point of contact was the backs of her thighs as they lay across his own, ensuring she'd stay spread wide for the show she was about to give him.
She watched from under hooded eyes as she ran her fingertips along her chest, circling her breasts before pinching and plucking her nipples and whimpering at their sensitivity. Her heart pounded as she squeezed her breasts, trapping the nipples between two fingers and pinching them.
His mouth was parted as his fingertips dragged along his thighs, his nails barely scratching. She clenched when she realized that she was going to get a show too. One hand released her breast to slither down her body between her thighs, and two fingers dipped between her lips to collect the moisture at her slit before returning to her clit. She was sure to spread herself wide so he could get a clear view of her rubbing light circles on her clit.
Whatever he'd used only required the lightest of touches to send pure pleasure shooting throughout her body. She bit her lip and whimpered with each movement
He licked his hand, and her eyes tracked the motion of his pink tongue as he laved each finger and finally his palm. Her stomach collapsed as her breath left her in a whoosh, the thought of where his tongue had been just a few days prior invading her thoughts. Finally, he dropped his hand down and wrapped it around his straining cock, pumping as his eyes traversed her body, focusing mainly on the fingers on her clit.
"Harder."
She pressed down a smidge more and shifted her hips.
"Almost," he whispered.
Her back initially came off the bed when she complied, and she dipped her fingers back down to collect more lubricant before returning to the place of his fixation.
She watched him back, her eyes vacillating between his face, the muscles of his forearm, and his cock as he worked it.
He licked his lips as he studied her face a moment. "Pinch."
She gently pinched, squeezing lightly, and she felt the beginning flutters in her sex.
"Good girl."
With those words, she resumed rubbing, now at a frantic pace. It didn't occur to her to become embarrassed at the slick sounds as she worked her clit fervently. The pleasure was borderline pain, and then she was flying, falling apart into a thousand pieces, and she cried out before collapsing into a quivering, trembling mess.
Moments later, when she was boneless, her fingers drenched and resting on her pelvis, she felt hot breath dance across her skin, and her eyes snapped back open.
He'd leaned across her, one hand planted next to her ribs. His cheeks were pink, and he was working himself at a pace that nearly matched hers. Then, almost as suddenly as she'd reached her own peak, he clenched his jaw and came across her stomach in hot spurts with a low groan, jaw clenched tightly.
His chest was heaving by the time he'd stopped and regained some sense of himself. His eyes tracked across the mess he'd made of her and that she'd made of herself before slowly meeting her gaze.
"I loved that," she whispered before he could say anything.
His shoulders relaxed at her confession, and he wandlessly summoned his shirt, using it to clean the both of them before collapsing to the bed next to her and gathering her in his arms.
"We'll have dinner later. You need to rest, seeing as you've expended more magic today than likely in the past month."
She nodded, finally feeling the wave of exhaustion as it crashed across her.
"Library later," she mumbled.
She felt, rather than saw his nod as she tucked her head underneath his chin. Tomorrow, she'd tell him tomorrow before he could wrangle her into an argument or ply orgasms from her or otherwise distract her from her goal.
"Sleep."
And so she did.
I'll see you all next Saturday!