A/N - This is my second entry to the DFFR2.0 Magical Mayhem Fest.
The prompt was "Potions Classroom" WARNING: Although this story has a happy ending, there is sex while using Polyjuice Potion. It isn't done in a malicious way, but I thought I'd warn you.
December 18, 1998: Present
"Where the bloody hell did you learn to shag like that, Pans?" Draco wondered in awe as the witch climbed off of him. "Merlin, you normally just lie there like a corpse," he mumbled while she gathered her clothes and slid out of his bed. Thank goodness she was leaving. Sometimes, she tried to cuddle, which he never wanted to do with her. Their past was too sordid for anything other than the occasional dalliance.
It'd been a while since he'd slept with her. Actually, the last time was before the Battle of Hogwarts. Of course, he hadn't expected her to slag around with him once the war was over and his family had fallen so low. A witch like her would set her sights higher. She'd been taught from a young age to always seek out the most powerful wizard and make him hers. When they were younger, Draco was that wizard. He'd been sure she was trying to trap him, the Malfoy heir, into marriage, but he always cast a contraception charm on her before and after they were done just to be safe. There was no way he believed she was on the Potion as she said, and he'd rather off himself than marry this nagging woman. She wasn't the type of witch he ever envisioned spending the rest of his life with.
"Why would you continue to shag someone that just lies there?" Pansy asked in a haughty tone. It was completely unlike her to question him about anything, but this whole afternoon she'd been acting as if she was a completely different person.
"You know exactly why," he sneered at her. "Damn it, Pans, you were just as frightened as I was! Would you rather I let them fight over you? Or worse, share you?" Draco spat. How dare she question his intentions. He may not love the gold-digging witch, but he wouldn't have allowed those other Death Eater animals to keep her as a pet when her father failed one of his missions. "Salazar knows your cowardly father did nothing to protect you unless you count groveling at the Dark Lord's feet!" The dark-haired witch stared at him with wide, expressive eyes that reminded him of someone else he couldn't place. He'd never seen Parkinson appear so deeply disturbed.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, casting her eyes to the ground.
"Who are you and what have you done with Pansy Parkinson?" Draco chuckled lightly in an attempt to lighten the mood. They'd known each other for eighteen years, and not one time had she ever apologized to him.
"What?" she squealed, her eyes shot up to his as if he startled her.
"Oh, let's see," Draco smiled at his friend and began ticking off his fingers, "You just apologized to me for the first time in your life, you haven't touched me since before the Dark Lord fell, we had the best sex we've ever had, with the lights on and your eyes open in positions you've never let me try, and to top it all off, you asked me about Potions of all subjects you've never cared about." Instead of responding, she simply stared at him with her mouth agape.
Suddenly, something shifted in her face. Her eyes were more rounded and the color seemed to shift. Without hesitation, Pansy haphazardly threw on the rest of her clothes and ripped his door open to escape. The last thing he noticed before she disappeared was a plume of chestnut curls exploding from the back of her head, replacing her usual chopped black locks. What. The. Fuck? Draco practically jumped into his trousers that had been cast to the floor earlier and ran after the witch.
An hour earlier...
"May I speak to you before supper?" Pansy boldly approached Draco as he walked toward the Great Hall with Theo and Blaise. It was the first time she'd requested his company alone since they'd come back to Hogwarts. For some reason, she was by herself, which was also odd. It was best to move in groups as Slytherins these days. Outside of the dungeons, the other Houses made a sport of hexing them whenever they could get away with it. As a Slytherin, one did not simply walk alone after the fall of the Dark Lord. Unlike some of his classmates with a choice, Draco had been court-ordered to return to Hogwarts for his final year of schooling, but all the snakes paid dearly for their parts in the war, no matter how big or small.
"Of course, Pans," he eyed his two friends wearily before offering the dark-haired witch his arm. She'd been avoiding him outside of classes when it suited her to copy his work, so he wondered if she was feeling as lonely as him lately. "Did you finally decide you miss me?" he grinned at her.
"Oh,...-er, no," she stammered, staring at his upturned lips as if she'd never seen him smile in her life. "Potions! I wanted to ask you some questions about Potions," she stated firmly. Draco couldn't control the fit of laughter that overtook him. Pansy Parkinson asking him about Potions, a class she'd given fuck all about, and dropped as quickly as she could after hardly passing her O.W.L.s in the subject.
"Potions?" he grinned. "Really, Pans?" Merlin, if the witch wanted a quick shag, all she had to do was say so.
"Yes, Potions. I -er,… heard you were brewing Everlasting Elixirs today, and I was wondering if you had any special techniques for creating it that are not mentioned in the book?" she asked nervously, her voice slightly rising to a higher pitch at the end of her question.
"Ah, I see," Draco smirked. "In the entirety of our lives, you've never given a flying fuck about Potions, but all of a sudden, you want pointers from me on advanced brewing techniques," he chuckled, stopping them both outside the door to the Slytherin common room and facing her. Pansy nodded hopefully. It'd be worth being tardy to the evening meal to shag her even if she wasn't as much of a participant as he would prefer. At this point, attention from any witch would be better than wanking alone in his room at night.
"Yes, well, I...heard you cut your Ashwinder eggs in chunks rather than slices, and-" Pansy's stopped short and stared into his eyes when Draco placed his hands on either side of her head and pressed her into the wall.
"You don't have to pretend with me, Pansy," he whispered into her ear. The witch gasped in response to his proximity, and he could feel her warm, quick breaths on his neck. The blond wizard backed up enough to look her in the eyes. "I'm not even going to ask where you heard the way I cut my Ashwinder eggs since the only person who would ever possibly notice something like that is Granger, and I know you weren't off gossiping with her," he smiled down at the blushing witch.
"Wait...I-" Pansy started to explain.
"It's okay, Pans. Believe me, I get it. Salazar's balls, you're the only witch who will even look at me anymore," he squeezed his eyes tightly in frustration. Taking a deep breath, he looked at her again. "Things during the war were...awful, but once we leave here, we can try to forget about all of it. For now, I'm lonely too. You can pretend I'm a better man, and I'll pretend you're a witch who loves me for more than my money," he smiled at her, knowing she'd laugh at his joke. Instead, he found her eyes were glossed over. The dark-haired witch had never looked at him with such openness and honesty, and he pressed his lips to hers. It took her a moment to respond, but when she did, the two became passion incarnate.
It was easy to pretend he was in love when Pansy snogged him like this. Their tongues slid together, exploring one another as if it were the last kiss either of them would ever have. He was nearly dry-humping her into the wall before he realized he needed to get her to his room immediately before they were caught. When he'd swung open the portrait hole to the common room, she'd dragged him in by his shirt instead of leading the way to his dorm. Pansy looked all around her as if taking in the surroundings for the first time.
"Take me to bed, Malfoy," she demanded. It hadn't occurred to him to think about why she'd referred to him by his surname or why she seemed lost in the place she'd spent the last seven years of her life. All he knew is he needed to feel loved right then. If she was willing to offer him some semblance of that, he had no problem scooping her up and carrying the wanton witch to his room to shag her silly. The way Pansy responded to his touch tonight made it easy for him to pretend she was the perfect witch for him.
Present
"Wait! Come back here!" Hermione heard Draco call as he ran shirtless down the hall of the Slytherin dorms into the common room. The Gryffindor witch slipped out of the portrait hole before the blond wizard was able to catch her as a group of young snakes returned from their evening meal. Thank goodness she grabbed her wand when she'd escaped his room. Quickly, she cast a Disillusionment Charm in the corridor. What the hell was she thinking? How could she have let this happen?
The Slytherin portrait hole slammed open as Malfoy stomped through it. Afraid of making a sound by running away, Hermione stood and watched him from her hidden spot, peeking from behind a tapestry. The blond wizard stared down the hall trying to catch a glimpse of her but gave up easily when he didn't see her. He slammed himself against the opposite wall and slowly slid down to the ground. The Gryffindor witch examined the way he carded his fingers through his hair and chanted, "What the fuck?" over and over again. He looked terrified as if Voldemort would rise from the dead just to punish him.
"You know, I can hear you sniffling," Draco announced after a few minutes, looking around for the source of the muffled breathing. Shite! Hermione hadn't realized she'd started crying and sucked in a breath to stop herself. The sight of Draco Malfoy without his usual mask of indifference was unsettling. Knowing he was as lonely and desperate for love as her was too much to bear. What had she done?
July 1998
"It's not like I meant to hurt you, Mione, I just don't see us as more than friends," Ron told her the day after she arrived at the Burrow after an unsuccessful trip to Australia to restore her parent's memories. His timing is impeccable, as usual, she thought bitterly. "I'm surprised you're this upset. We've hardly seen one another since you left, and when we were together, all we did was argue," he explained awkwardly, his face growing a deeper shade of red with each word he spoke. He wasn't wrong. She and Ron never would have worked as a couple. "Harry said you could stay with him at Grimmauld Place," Ron told her, not realizing that him finding another place for her to live until school began made all of this worse somehow. The Burrow would never be the safe haven it once was for her or Harry after the youngest Weasleys broke it off with both of them. A couple of weeks earlier, almost immediately after Ginny had signed with the Holyhead Harpies, she'd told the dark-haired wizard that she wanted some freedom before she settled down like her mother.
"You're right, Ronald. We would have never worked because you'd never be able to give me what I need," she said coldly, Disapparating on the spot to her latest temporary home. The last thing she saw before she disappeared was the sad look of defeat on her best friend's face, and she instantly regretted her last words to him. Why did she say that? It wasn't Ron's fault, and she shouldn't have tried to hurt him. She'd fix this one day, but right now, she needed the only person left in her life who'd never abandoned her.
Without fail, Harry was waiting for Hermione with open arms. They sat on the sofa mourning their losses until the early hours of the morning. Two orphans famed as war heroes yet utterly alone in the world. They woke up the next afternoon with puffy eyes and surrounded by balled-up tissues.
August 1998
"What do you mean you aren't returning to Hogwarts?" Hermione demanded, angry that she'd have to face that place without Harry.
"I'm sorry, Mione, but I just can't do it. Kingsley has offered me a job as an Auror without having to sit for my N.E.W.T.s, and I can't refuse it. The sooner I can start my life, the better," he explained, squeezing her hand under the breakfast table. "Do you really want me depending on you for everything and constantly distracting you during your N.E.W.T. year of all things?" he shot her his boyish smile. "Don't you wonder what Hogwarts would be like for you without having to constantly fix my blunders or edit my schoolwork?"
"Damn it, Harry Potter, don't you appeal to my rational side when I'm upset with you," she pouted playfully. Even though she was heartbroken to have to return to school without him, he made a good point. It would be nice to go through school without worrying about Harry and Ron's grades the whole time.
"I'll owl you all the time, and you'll come home for Christmas and Easter, and when you graduate with solid Os on your N.E.W.T.s, you'll live with me," the raven-haired wizard said as if he had it all planned out. "You know I love you, Hermione, but I just...I can't go back there."
"It's a plan...underdeveloped and not well thought out, but we have a tentative plan," she assured him.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "There's something else the two of us must talk about," he eyed her carefully.
"I think we've talked about more in the last few weeks than I ever care to talk about again," she smiled sadly, thinking of how miserable the two of them had been since she'd returned.
"Right, about that. We're done being sad. I think it's high time you and I went out and acted like a couple of legal adults," he grinned widely. After the last year of Horcruxes and war, seeing Harry happy was a balm to her burdened soul. "What do you say we go out tonight in Muggle London, so we aren't recognized and let loose?" he pleaded with large green eyes. She wouldn't deny him the chance to forget. They both needed this.
September 1, 1998, Kings Cross Station
"Thanks for coming with me, Harry. I know it was hard for you to take time off training to be here, so I wouldn't be alone," Hermione hugged her best friend, holding back the tears she'd been suppressing over the last month. The pair had gone out most nights, drinking, dancing, and a few times found temporary comfort in the arms of Muggles. It was never enough. Nothing would bring Sirius or her parents back. Nothing would erase all they'd lost.
The only way to come to peace with everything was to take the next steps into their lives and let time heal their pain. They made a pact to try to move on as best they could.
Hope came in small doses. Ron and Ginny had made an effort to restore their broken friendships by inviting their spurned lovers out to lunch a few times. It was still a little awkward but improving. Harry had begun Auror training and started to meet some new people. Today, Hermione would head off to her final year at Hogwarts to achieve her goal of perfect N.E.W.T. scores. They were headed in the right direction. Hermione just needed to take things one day at a time.
"You're my only family, Mione. Whenever you need me, I'll be there," Harry promised, holding her tightly. He kissed the top of her head as the whistle blew to signify the end of summer. She boarded the train, waving goodbye to her last tie to sanity.
September - December
"Ms. Granger, I'm so terribly sorry to ask any more favors of you, but there is no one else. As you are aware, Mr. Malfoy has joined others from your year to sit for his N.E.W.T.s. It should be no surprise that he is in all advanced classes this year since he falls only second to you in class rankings," Headmistress McGonagall began.
"I'm aware," Hermione responded without emotion. She had prepared herself for something like this. Very few from her year had returned to complete their schooling, so having to work with Malfoy was inevitable at some point.
"You see, in every subject but one, I am able to pair him with another Slytherin. However, you and he are the only students from your year in the Advanced Potions class," the elder witch paused, gauging Hermione's reaction, empathy clear in her eyes at having to ask anything of the girl who already gave so much to help save the entire wizarding world.
"I've endured his presence since I was eleven years old, so another nine months won't kill me," she said off-handedly in an attempt to assuage any guilt the headmistress might have.
"You are mature beyond your years, Ms. Granger," McGonagall said kindly, stealing a breath of relief. "I spoke with Mr. Malfoy earlier, and he wanted me to assure you that he would be on his best behavior, a perfect gentleman,...or so he says," the older witch rolled her eyes.
"I'll set my expectations low, Professor," the young Gryffindor chuckled.
"Should he give you any problems, please don't hesitate to report it to me immediately. Bigotry will not be tolerated here, so he'd do well to treat you with the utmost respect. After all, his freedom from Azkaban depends on the way he conducts himself here," the headmistress assured her star pupil.
Along with Hermione, Neville Longbottom, Ernie Macmillan, and Susan Bones were the only non-Slytherins to return for their final year. For his part, Neville sat dutifully beside Hermione at every meal even though his popularity skyrocketed due to killing Nagini in the final battle. It was lovely to see such a kind man come into his own. Hermione could tell he enjoyed his newfound attention though he never became boastful or conceited.
As his stock in friends grew, the curly-haired witch found herself disappearing among the crowd of people moving on without her. Godric she'd never felt so lonely. At first, everyone tried to speak to her about the war, but she would drown in their incessant questions. They tired of her over-simplified answers. There was no way to convey the atrocities she'd seen and done. How did one move on with their life when the world surrounding them wouldn't let them forget?
The only thing she could do is what she always did, plunge herself into her studies and rarely come up for air. Classes, meals, library, and sleep felt normal. She could do those things. Eventually, that was all she did in spite of Neville's frequent invitations to join him for any and every social gathering. He was loyal to a fault, but Hermione needed him to remember her existence so she wouldn't completely disappear. The Gryffindor wizard must have sensed this because he never gave up on her.
To top off her despondency, Harry's letters became sporadic as his training intensified. As expected, he was doing well in his chosen profession. He seemed happy making friends and frequently joining Ron and George on the weekends at the pub. Suddenly, this year couldn't be over quickly enough. Maybe coming back to Hogwarts was a mistake.
They didn't speak. From the first day of class, Malfoy had acknowledged Hermione with a simple head nod, and she did the same. Neither of them had any friends in the class though the Gryffindor witch was always friendly. Of course, no one attempted to speak to the blond wizard beside her, but his placid facial expression didn't really invite conversation.
It was beyond the way they were able to communicate with no words. When they brewed together, it was a dance that no one knew the steps to but them. Since they'd been competing their first six years of school, they knew one another's strengths. Malfoy would gather and prepare ingredients while Hermione would set up the cauldron and stir. Occasionally, he'd point to the book to remind her of the number of times she should stir when a new ingredient was added or reach around her to adjust the heat. She never questioned him because if she could trust anything about the former Death Eater, it was that he knew what he was doing in this class.
Because the pair's potions were always the best in the class full of mostly seventh-year Ravenclaws, the professor often picked a second-place potion for each assignment to motivate the rest of the class. In a sad display of false achievement, the other students vied for this second-place spot. On this point, Hermione was positive that she and Draco were in complete agreement. Whenever these consolation compliments were handed out, the Gryffindor and Slytherin exchanged an eye roll.
On some occasions, they were called to work separately to make their own potions. Hermione followed the book to the letter, creating quality brews, but somehow Malfoy's were always flawless. It quickly became clear that he was the most exceptional potioneer in the class. Not wanting to draw attention to the notorious wizard's accomplishments, Professor Slughorn would congratulate Malfoy in private. After a few times, Hermione realized his exceptional talent was greater than her own in this subject. It was then that she began watching him. His techniques were intriguing. An extra counter-clockwise stir here or there, the way he prepared his ingredients, removing the cauldron a moment after the prescribed time. She would give anything to discuss his methods with him. It was impossible for him not to notice her constant attention. A few times, he'd changed his angle just so she could have a proper view of what he was doing. At first, she was embarrassed, but if she wanted to improve, she would need to learn from the best.
Copying him wasn't enough. How did he know to change the recipe? Was it natural intuition or did he simply know something she didn't? The mystery of it all was driving Hermione mad. She'd scoured the library searching for answers but always came up short. Could she just ask him? It seemed impossible since he made it quite clear that he had no intention of speaking with her. Maybe if she could disguise herself as someone else, then he would speak with her openly about it. The boys had used Polyjuice during second year to acquire information. Why not now?
Present
"May I at least know the identity of the person who took advantage of me?" Draco asked the empty corridor from his place on the floor with his head in his hands. It was likely the person was still there since he heard a muted sniffle every so often. They'd been sitting there for only a few minutes, but it stretched on for a lifetime. "Sure, sure, blame the Death Eater for all your troubles. Every little boy's dream to be held down by his own father while some maniac burns his Mark into your arm. 'Kill the only man who has ever believed there's goodness in you or I'll kill your family' he told me," Draco prattled, unsure if he was alone. "Some lucky bastard I am."
The blond wizard jerked his head toward the tapestry just down the hall where the sound of muffled sobs broke the silence. Not alone then.
"There she is. My prankster continues to delight in my pain," he sneered. "Perhaps, next time you can be a little more creative than Pansy since our history isn't a cheerful one. Obviously, you are no Slytherin, or you'd know," he declared to the tapestry. Silence. "You think you've bested me? You'll have a good laugh with what I assume to be all your Gryffindor friends, will you?" No answer. "You can't hurt a man who has been betrayed by his own father, his own blood...What a bunch of rubbish blood is anyway! My whole life was a lie. Blood means nothing to me now!" A gasp, possibly of shock, maybe. "The joke is on you, witch because that was the best shag of my life!"
"It wasn't a joke!" she declared earnestly. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. In the distance, he heard a group of Slytherins returning from the Great Hall. Without a second thought, he was on his feet and tearing his way behind the tapestry. The witch was trapped in the alcove with him now. As soon as he reached out blindly and touched her, she appeared before him.
"What the fuck?" he whispered in the darkness to the wide-eyed stare of Hermione fucking Granger.
"I'm sorry," the curly-haired witch squeaked when Draco approached her. Hermione held a tight fist around her wand, but when she saw his face, it wasn't anger she saw. It was pain. Suffering she'd caused.
"We just...did...things," he gestured between them awkwardly, "and you're sorry?" he asked incredulously so that only she could hear him as the group of Slytherins disappeared into their common room. "You saw me," he waved his hand down the front of his body. "You saw my Mark!" the blond said completely aghast, covering his forearm with his hand. At that, she tilted her head in confusion. Why would he be more concerned about her seeing his Mark than the rest of him?
"I already knew about your Mark," she replied defensively. Draco stared at her in surprise. She'd never seen him as expressive as he'd been on this evening.
"Is there any way you could focus that huge brain of yours on telling me what the fuck just happened?" he donned his familiar sneer, lightly tapping the middle of her forehead with his pointer finger. "Let's start simple. Why did you Polyjuice yourself to look like Pansy?" he asked slowly when she didn't answer him right away.
"It was all very innocent really. You see, I had questions for you about Potions class."
"Do you always go around pretending to be other people and fucking whomever you have questions for?" Draco drawled sarcastically. "You realize that you could have asked me your questions in any of the seven classes we have together?"
"You made it very clear from the beginning of the year that you had no interest in speaking with me, and I wasn't sure how else I could learn your methods," she explained. The Slytherin wizard began looking all around him and peeking around the tapestry.
"What sort of mind fuck is this? Am I to believe you are complimenting me now? Is this payback for what my aunt did to you?" he shot off questions nervously.
"This isn't any of those things. I really just wanted to learn from you," Hermione insisted, twisting her wand nervously through her fingers.
"Why did you kiss me like that? Why did you look into my eyes the entire time we were...together?" he asked accusingly. Hermione was silent for a moment, emotions welling up inside her.
"When you thought I was Pansy, you were so kind and thoughtful. I've never even seen your real smile or laugh until tonight," she said softly, unwilling to meet his eyes. "That loneliness you spoke of, I feel it too. All the time. When you said we should imagine one another as someone else, that is exactly what I did," she confessed, tears beginning to sting her eyes.
"Are you saying that you imagined me to be Weasley?" he cringed. "Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, you were pretending I was that bloody git!" Malfoy dragged his hand down the front of his face in frustration.
"I assure you, I wasn't thinking of him!" she spat with her hands on her hips, taking a step closer to him in the already small space.
"And who is it, Ms. Granger, that you imagined me to be? What lucky wizard turns the brightest witch of her age into some sort of sex goddess?" he challenged Hermione as he leaned down toward her with his arms folded across his broad chest.
"If you must know, Mr. Malfoy, I was quite intrigued by the blond wizard in front of me who was momentarily playing the part of a somewhat decent human being. I'd imagined what it would be like if you were actually the gentleman I caught a glimpse of earlier!"
They stared at each other for a long moment, centimeters apart, both breathing heavily from the intensity of their exchange. Before either of them could think better of it, they were kissing. Hermione wasn't sure who moved first or why, but at that moment, it didn't matter.
Malfoy snaked his hand through her hair while his other arm ensnared her waist, holding her firmly against himself. Losing all control, Hermione allowed her fingers to explore the soft strands of his hair at the base of his neck and traced the chiseled lines of his muscular chest. She could feel his heart beating frantically as he pressed her into the wall. When the Gryffindor witch let out a slight moan, she felt his stiffened cock grind against her, and she threw one leg around his hips in response. He grabbed her behind the knee, sliding his hand further up her skirt until he was palming her arse as he thrust himself against her exposed core.
"Where the fuck is he?" a male voice demanded from the portrait hole, stilling the unlikely couple in the alcove. "Something isn't right. We checked everywhere!" the voice exclaimed in frustration. Hermione felt warm, short breaths gently caressing her face as Draco pulled away slightly and rested his forehead against hers.
"Should we report him missing? He is the most susceptible to these attacks. The rest of us haven't had it nearly as bad as Draco has," another wizard replied, concern etching his every word. Usually, the Slytherins kept their emotions highly guarded, so it was strange for Hermione to hear the pair of wizards worry about their friend.
"Yeah, mate. Let's go see McGonagall," the first wizard replied.
"Well, we can't have that," Draco whispered, standing up quickly and adjusting his trousers lewdly with a smirk. He made to dash out of the hidden alcove before he turned abruptly and placed a chaste kiss on the Gryffindor witch's cheek, surprising them both. "See you, Granger," he murmured as he left her in their hidden spot.
"Don't run off on my behalf, gents!" Draco called down the corridor to his friends, jogging up behind them.
"Where the fuck is your shirt, you tosser?" Hermione heard one of the wizards chuckle.
"That bloody poltergeist is a menace! Peeves should have been tossed out of this place ages ago," Malfoy ranted to his friends without explanation about the whereabouts of his shirt.
Hermione let go of the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. He could have embarrassed her or told them what had transpired between them, but he hadn't.
Winter Hols, 1998
Lying awake for the fourth night in a row, Draco stared at his ceiling, defenseless against the stream of images playing in his mind of a certain Muggle-born witch. He was reeling from their encounter. Hermione bloody Granger. How the fuck did that happen? The entire situation was mad. Part of him felt angry that he was so utterly duped, but he believed her when she said her original intention was to ask him about Potions. It was such a completely Granger thing to do. He could definitely understand getting caught up in the moment since it was pretty much what he'd done when he thought she was Pansy. If the Gryffindor witch felt even a fraction of the emptiness he did, then she knew what it was to yearn for affection, even if it came in the form of her former bully.
They'd been enemies since the moment they met at the age of eleven. Much of that was his fault, of course. Had he not been brainwashed from birth with all of his father's blood purity nonsense, they could have been friends. After having the Dark Lord living in his home while Father and his associates mindlessly worshiped the sociopath, Draco was sure that he no longer believed any of it.
Before a few nights ago, he'd never imagined himself shagging a Muggle-born, let alone one who hated him so thoroughly. Regardless of the impossibility of it all, he knew he definitely wanted it to happen again. He'd tried to convince himself that he was only thinking with his cock, but alone in his thoughts, he could admit there was more to it than that. At the very least, they kept up with one another intellectually. The two of them didn't even need words to work together flawlessly in Potions class. Clearly, they were physically compatible as well. The passion between them was intense. In his eighteen years of life, no witch had stirred his emotions like this. He felt drawn to her somehow.
Right now, he was kicking himself for not talking to Hermione on the train the morning after their unexpected rendezvous even though he saw her. Draco noticed how Potter was the only person at Kings Cross to meet the Gryffindor witch for winter hols. When she ran into the arms of his former rival, the blond wizard could admit he was a little jealous. For his part, Potter looked excited to see Granger, but they embraced more like siblings rather than lovers. Also, the night prior she had revealed how lonely she felt all the time, so she and Potter couldn't be any sort of couple. The Slytherin didn't want to analyze the reasons why he felt the need to assure himself of the status of their relationship.
Was Hermione thinking of Draco as much as he was thinking of her? Did he want her to be? The answer was clear. He immediately jumped out of bed and padded down to the Manor's library.
"I'm not drunk enough for this, Mione!" Harry slurred as he passed the bottle of Firewhiskey they'd been sharing back to her. "I mean, I'm glad you told me, of course, but I wish I'd known things were so bad that you've resorted to seeking comfort in the worst imaginable way," he said, ever the supportive friend.
"It's not like I planned for it to happen, Harry!" Hermione protested for what seemed like the hundredth time. "And...and...the way he kissed me after he knew it was me…" she took a slow sip from the bottle.
"Please do not continue that thought!" he yelled, laughing as he grabbed for the Firewhiskey. "It's bad enough I have the basic mechanics of what happened. I do not need to know that you actually enjoyed it...fucking Malfoy," his face pinched in disgust. "Merlin, Hermione, you shagged Malfoy! What now?"
"I don't know…he's probably furious with me anyway...and I wasted the moment in Pansy's body…" she trailed off once caught a glimpse of the look of repulsion on her best friend's face.
"Mione?"
"Hmm…"
"Remind me tomorrow, when I'm sober, that I already lectured you when I realize all of this is real," Harry said seriously, wrapping a comforting arm around the closest thing he had to a sister.
Present - Kings Cross after Winter Hols
"Sorry I had to bring Auror Willis with me to see you off," Harry whispered as he hugged Hermione closely. "He's my trainee mentor during this phase of my training. The next time I see you in a few months, I'll be a full-fledged Auror. Can you believe it?"
"I'm so proud of you, Harry! Soon, we'll both be on our way into a new normal," Hermione offered him a sad kind of smile. They both knew that on one hand, they needed to move on, but on the other hand, they'd truly be leaving behind the past. It was bittersweet.
"What are you looking at, Death Eater?" the authoritative voice of Auror Willis broke through their goodbye. They turned to see Malfoy standing a few paces away with his trunk floating behind him, turned in their direction with a startled expression.
"Pardon me?" the confused Slytherin replied in disbelief.
"You think you can just walk through here as if you own the place?" Auror Willis challenged the young wizard.
"I'm on my way to the train, Sir," he answered respectfully though his signature sneer was fighting it's way to replace the look of surprise on his face. "Actually, my family does not own Platform 9 ¾," he continued with an edge to his voice. The older Auror was in the blond wizard's face immediately.
"You're just as much of an arsehole as your dear old dad, aren't you, you little shite?" Auror Willis spat through his teeth. Malfoy cringed at the man's words.
"Fuck!" Harry whispered. "Let me fix this."
"No, Sir. I'm nothing like him."
"That's not what that Mark on your arm says," Auror Willis pointed to Malfoy's cloak-covered forearm.
"Is this a test, Auror Willis?" Harry chimed in with a boylike grin. Malfoy, Hermione, and the Auror turned to stare at the-boy-who-lived in confusion. "I see what you're doing. You know we just finished reading the bylaws in class on citizen harassment."
"He's no citizen, Potter. His father tortured my sister just because she married a Muggle-born, for Godric's sake!" the man seethed.
"I'll agree, his father is a prick," Harry conceded, giving a slight shrug of apology to Malfoy while the older Auror glared at the blond wizard. "But as far as I can tell, D-Draco has done nothing illegal, so I don't see why we're here harassing him."
"I bet he's done plenty in his entitled little life," the Auror sneered. It took everything in Hermione to keep her mouth shut and let Harry handle this poor excuse for an Auror.
"As you know, he's had his day in front of the Wizengamot and is a free man-" the raven-haired wizard managed before Auror Willis cut him off.
"Come off it, Potter. You're my trainee now, and we do things my way," he scolded as he raised his wand to Draco who was watching the argument unfold before him, his eyes volleying back and forth between the two Aurors. A small crowd began to form around them, and Hermione noticed the angry looks directed at the blond wizard who'd done nothing but show up to board the Hogwarts Express on his way back to school. She wondered if he'd always be falsely accused and misjudged because of his past.
"Lower your wand, or I will make sure you pay dearly for harassing this man for his parentage, a crime, I'll remind you, we've just come through a bloody war to abolish," Harry ground out through his teeth. Auror Willis took a deep breath and kept it trained on Malfoy. "Lower the fucking wand, Willis," the dark-haired wizard's authoritative tone brooked no argument. The older Auror quickly shot a glare at Malfoy before turning to Harry with a false smile.
"You -er,...did it, Trainee Potter, you passed the...test," Auror Willis said unconvincingly. "Excellent job not caving under the pressure. I'll just be returning to the office to -er...write up the paperwork," Auror Willis stammered before Disapparating on the spot.
"Sorry about that, Mal-" Harry started to say until he realized Malfoy had already stalked away toward the train. The bespectacled wizard let out a groan. "Don't worry, Mione, I'll be reporting that guy to Robards," he hugged her again. "Be sure to write to me, so I know you're doing alright."
"Thank you for being you," Hermione wrapped her arms around her friend, impressed he'd grown into his adult role so easily.
Monday, January 4, 1999 - Back to Classes
Of all the luck, today started with double Potions. Malfoy had been thoroughly absent from most meals since they'd returned to school, and avoided eye contact with Hermione at all costs. She'd hoped to apologize to him for the incident at Kings Cross as well as what had happened between them before they left for break. Hoping not to seem too nervous, Hermione carefully read the lesson for the day. The class would be helping to stock the hospital wing's supply of Skele-gro and Blood Replenishing potions.
"You're awfully focused on today's lesson about potions you could practically brew in your sleep," Malfoy said matter-of-factly as he dropped his belongings on the table beside her. Hermione stared at him as he pulled a neatly printed and bound stack of parchments out of his bag and handed them to her. It took the confused witch a moment to realize he wanted her to take them.
"Thank you," she said, like a question. The Slytherin's perfectly shaped eyebrow raised up slightly and his grey eyes bore into her. He cleared his throat softly.
"It's a few pages from a rare book called A Potion Master's Guide to Excellence given to me by our late Professor Snape," he explained. Hermione's bewilderment was replaced by excitement, and she stared gratefully down at the parchment. "It will answer your questions about Ashwinder eggs," he added. When she looked up from the pages, he was smiling at her, a real genuine smile.
"I'm so...This is...You didn't have to…" she stammered, trying to find the right words. Malfoy rolled his eyes as if he was exasperated by her sudden inability to form a sentence. "Thank you," Hermione finally landed on the simplest way to show her gratitude, though her initial instinct was to hug him. Before the blond wizard could respond, Professor Slughorn was in front of them with an expectant look on his face.
"Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy, since your capabilities are far beyond the rest of my advanced class, I will be asking you both to work together to brew a batch of Veritaserum. Are you both up to the task?" the older professor practically whispered as if he didn't want to be caught complimenting their competence in front of the rest of the class.
"Of course, Sir."
"Yes, Sir."
"Excellent. See that it turns out as well as all of your other potions," he eyed them carefully and walked away.
The two set to work in their normal routine with Hermione gathering the supplies and Draco prepping the ingredients. This time, however, was a little different. Instead of working in silence, the Slytherin wizard explained what he was doing with each step in a low hum that only Hermione could hear. His running commentary reminded Hermione of Muggle cooking shows. Malfoy's voice was deep and smooth, unlike the sarcastic drawl Hermione was used to him using when speaking to or about her. In an errant thought, she imagined him reading aloud to her with her head in his lap.
"Jobberknoll feathers are surprisingly delicate," he interrupted Hermione's daydreaming as he slipped on gloves to work with the rare feathers. "The book doesn't say so, but even the oil in your fingers could disturb the fine texture. This minute influence is the difference between an unsuspecting victim of this potion and a person able to smell the truth serum for what it is."
"How do you know?" Hermione worked up the nerve to ask. Busying herself with stirring the contents of their cauldron, she avoided his gaze and worried her lip, afraid he might make fun of her.
"To be plain, fingers are filthy," he wrinkled his nose in an extremely inelegant, non-Malfoy way. "Most potions are unaffected by the small traces of every disgusting thing we touch throughout the day, but a potion like this is finicky at best, even when brewed properly. That oil on your hands is made partially of your sweat, which could embed the potion with traces of the brewer," he explained thoughtfully, returning to his commentary after a moment when she didn't comment further.
The rest of the class passed quickly. In the end, they had a perfect bottle full of Veritaserum to show for themselves, and Professor Slughorn was beyond pleased.
"The two of you could probably take your N.E.W.T.s this minute and score perfect Os!" he lauded. "In the meantime, you'll be helping me catch up on restocking this school since we've come up short after...everything…" he trailed off and walked away without waiting for a response.
"You know, next time you wonder about my techniques, all you have to do is ask," Malfoy commented softly as he walked beside Hermione to their Charms class. "Although, if you prefer your other method for seeking answers, I certainly won't argue unless you try to use Polyjuice again," he winked at her before entering the room and sliding in his seat beside Theodore Nott. Hermione was paralyzed by his words, standing in the doorway and staring after his smirking face until Neville walked up behind her and began speaking to her cheerily about some plants Professor Sprout had let him assist in planting.
Two Days Prior
Draco should have been more careful at the train station. He'd been watching Granger and Potter's interaction, admittedly a little jealous of their closeness. Above all else, she trusted Harry. Had the Slytherin not been so careless, perhaps the chunky Auror would have let him pass without incident. What an embarrassment. Potter, of all people, was there to save him...again. His boyhood rival had been at his trial to speak for him too. The only person there to defend him from the hell of Azkaban. Apparently, Hermione had written a statement on his behalf as well, but Draco wasn't privy to read it. Without the help of Potter and Granger, he'd be rotting away in a cell alongside his father. He was free, but to what extent? If this was how he'd be treated for the rest of his life, there was no way he'd be able to stay in wizarding Britain.
The Slytherin was still brooding in an empty train car with his head between his hands when the billowing of black Auror robes caught his attention. Fuck! All he needed was a few minutes alone to gather himself.
"If you're here to lecture or threaten me, kindly get on with it," Draco insisted, hoping Potter would get this over with as quickly as possible.
"Actually, I'm here to, -er...apologize," Harry clarified as he cleared his throat. The blond wizard raised his head and saw remorse in his former enemy's eyes. They watched one another for a moment.
"Apologize for what exactly? If it wasn't for you, I'd be joining my father right now," he commented, referring to both his trial and today.
"Out there," he pointed to the platform, "That shouldn't have happened. It wasn't right," Potter firmly insisted as if it really upset him. "I owe you an apology for it since it wouldn't have happened if I wasn't here in the first place. I planned on speaking with you today for a favor."
"A favor. From me?" Draco puzzled as he tried to think of what this man could possibly need from him. "The only thing I have to offer you are my Galleons, Potter." The blond tucked his head safely between his hands again and rested his elbows on his knees.
"Listen, Malfoy, I know you're probably furious with her for what she did," Potter started. Draco's head shot up in disbelief, but the Gryffindor eyes were turned down to the side in embarrassment. The Slytherin couldn't believe Granger had told Potter about them. "You've every right to be. It was unforgivable, but…" Harry shook his head and gave Draco a meaningful look. He seemed to be debating if he should continue. A determined expression took hold and he powered through. "Please don't break her. Believe me, what she...did to you...," he shook his head. "It wasn't planned or meant to be malicious...but Ron and I aren't here to pick up the pieces when you hurt her anymore, and Neville can only do so much to help...You don't have to be nice or anything, just...maybe...keep ignoring her like you were before or...I don't know, just don't...she's lost, you know. We all are...you too…" he rambled on as inarticulate as Draco remembered, nothing like the powerful Auror he'd presented just minutes ago on the platform. "It's just she couldn't fix her parents, and I know you don't care, but…"
"Potter, stop," the blond wizard held up his hand. What had happened that she had to fix her parents? "I was a wretched little shite," he smirked as Harry nodded in agreement. "I'm not that wizard anymore. And it's hard to be angry with the only person outside of my House who has been decent to me...or for that matter, a pretty witch who offered herself to me because she saw kindness in a place she never had before," he admitted, ignoring Potter wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"Thanks, Malfoy...I was hoping I could count on you," the raven-haired Auror said as he turned to leave.
"Potter?"
"Yeah?"
"What made you think I'd changed? How'd you know I would agree?" Draco queried somewhat desperately, hoping there was a chance another person he'd wronged could have faith in him. The Gryffindor actually smiled at him when he answered.
"Because you kissed her again even when you knew it was her," he grinned wider than before. "See you around, Malfoy," he said, and the next thing Draco knew, his former rival was gone, leaving the blond wizard by himself to ponder their curious conversation.
March 1999 - Present
"It says here that Muggles built some sort of craft and flew right into space. This would be impossible without magic. Now I know this book is rubbish!," Malfoy exclaimed as he and Hermione studied for an upcoming exam. Months had passed, and a friendship had somehow sprouted from the seeds planted years ago of hate and indifference. Draco continued to narrate his work in Potions and had taken to meeting Hermione in the evenings at the library. He'd told her if he was to help her in Potions, then she could work with him in his worst subject, Muggle Studies. He hadn't planned on taking a N.E.W.T. in the class, but it was court-ordered, so he needed to do well. It hadn't helped that he'd blown off the class his first six years of school.
"Of course, it is true! I told you that Muggles are capable of many things without the use of magic," Hermione explained. He eyed her warily before letting out a yawn. It was getting late, and they'd been studying for a few hours already. Truth be told, she enjoyed their time together and always hated when it was time to leave.
Hermione noticed that the blond wizard would slink the halls under the Disillusionment Charm when they split at the Grand Staircase every night. The Gryffindor hadn't forgotten Theo and Blaise mentioning how Draco was attacked by other students the night before Winter Hols when they were hiding behind the tapestry outside the Slytherin dorms. She'd attempted to ask him about it, but he'd avoided answering her directly, and it worried her. Is this what life would be like for him for a while? People lining up to take the piss out on him constantly?
"Want to try something different tomorrow, Granger?" Draco asked as they were getting ready to call it a night one Friday at the library. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and a slight hue of pink snuck across his pale face.
"Different how?" she asked cautiously, suddenly nervous though she wasn't sure why.
"Instead of studying all day, I was hoping you'd accompany me on a picnic by the Black Lake and allow me to teach you to fly," he answered, his normally placid facade brimming with uncertainty.
"What makes you assume I can't fly?" Hermione wondered defensively.
"Because you can't," Draco laughed. The angry witch folded her arms across her chest and turned away from him. Her heart skipped a beat when he reached for her arm and spun her back towards him. With both of his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down and purred, "Calm down, lioness. Just because we weren't friends before doesn't mean I know nothing about you." His gaze slipped to her lips, momentarily stupefying Hermione.
"Alright. I'm sorry, but I thought you were saying that because I was a girl or something," she replied, uncrossing her arms.
"You're absurd! I play Quidditch with girls all the time and even made bets with Theo and Blaise on the She-Weasel making the pros before she ever signed with the Harpies!" the blonde defended himself. "Now tell me, will you join me tomorrow or not?"
"Well, the picnic part sounds nice," she offered a coy smile.
"And the flying part?"
"Sounds awful," Hermione insisted playfully.
"Flying in general or flying with me?"
"Definitely flying in general. Surprisingly, you aren't so bad," she poked him in the chest. With a wide grin, he snatched her finger and kissed it so quickly that she hardly knew if it was real or not. Over the course of the last few months, he'd become increasingly affectionate and flirty in the most Slytherin of ways. Sometimes he'd sit more closely than necessary or move his arm near hers until eventually, they were holding hands. It was an odd sort of relationship that they both seemed to want more of but didn't quite know how to move forward.
"It's a date, Granger," he winked just as he disappeared under his Disillusionment Charm, leaving her in a state of elation combined with panic. Apparently, he finally thought they were ready to move forward.
Taking a deep breath, Draco waited for Hermione to meet him in the Entrance Hall of the castle. Now he truly was breaking all the rules his family had established for him. Not only had he befriended the most notorious Muggle-born witch in Britain, it seemed he was trying to court her as well. His father would have a fit over this development. It didn't matter anyway, he hadn't spoken to Lucius very much. Most of the man's letters were rants about marching forward with the Dark Lord's plans or finding Harry Potter. He'd completely lost his mind in Azkaban, and to his mother's dismay, the younger Malfoy eventually began ignoring owls from his father.
"What are you doing behind the tapestry?" Hermione wondered as she lifted the material covering the alcove where he stood.
"I-... I didn't think you'd want to be seen with me," he admitted truthfully. Her eyes softened as she reached for his hand.
"We're friends, aren't we? Unless…" she pulled her hand back. "Unless you don't want to be seen with me," the Gryffindor said softly. Without a thought, Malfoy pushed off the wall and threaded their fingers together.
"Don't be ridiculous, Granger. Being around you can only help me, but you...you will be brought low. You'll suffer for spending time with the Death Eater," he stared into her eyes earnestly. "Once people see us together outside of Potions or the library, the rumors will start. They'll think I've Imperiused you or used some other kind of Dark magic."
"My whole life has been about ignoring gossip. Do you think you're the first or only person to bully me? I am a witch in the Muggle world and a Muggle in the wizarding world. Believe me, Malfoy, I'm no stranger to defending myself or my friends even when we're hated by everyone else," Hermione declared with conviction. Her breaths came steadily, and she was close enough that he could feel the small bursts of warm air on his skin. Draco couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss her or run away. It was obvious he didn't deserve her in any capacity, but at the same time, he craved her company, her attention, her wit, her laughter, her. He wanted her. If the last few months had shown him anything, it was that there was way more to Hermione Granger than he ever could have guessed. Perhaps for her sake, he should be unselfish.
"Someone like me isn't worth you having to tolerate anything. You're a bloody hero, and for some reason, you spend your time with a damaged man," he started to pull out of her grasp, but she held on tightly.
"I thought I was invited to a picnic, not a pity party," Hermione smiled, squeezing their joined hands and dragging him from his hidden spot. A pair of third-year Slytherins were standing in the entryway when they saw the unlikely pair emerge. The Gryffindor witch ignored their blatant staring and continued to drag Draco outside through the giant doors.
"You know, you really are bossy," the blond wizard planted his feet, halting Hermione's forceful charge toward the Black Lake. Before he realized she'd even pulled away, her fists slammed into her hips, and she shot him a playful glare.
"Well, I wouldn't have to be if all the men in my life weren't so bloody stubborn, now would I?" the small, fiery witch countered with a smile. Draco grinned in response and offered her his arm like the gentleman he was raised to be, casting a warming charm as he led her to an inlet he knew of by the lake.
When they arrived, the blond wizard waved his wand to clear a picnic spot for them. He unshrank the basket of food he'd brought along with a blanket. Once he'd finished, he cast an advanced charm to create a bubble around the area that would keep out the elements and provide warmth.
"This is lovely, Malfoy," Hermione said thoughtfully as they finished their meals. It was impossible to fight off his smirk knowing he'd impressed her in some way. The Slytherin wizard knew this witch would appreciate something simple like a picnic rather than some fancy restaurant where he'd only be able to show off his money. She didn't care about things like that, so it was a relief to know that she wasn't using him like most of the witches his mother would want to have lined up for him when he finished school. Draco cast the unwelcome thought from his mind. Eventually, he'd have to explain to his mother that an arranged marriage was no longer in the cards for him, but he didn't want to think about that now. He only wanted to think about the witch beside him.
The Slytherin had been too nervous these many weeks to kiss her again. Hermione was entirely guilt-ridden when they'd returned from the winter holidays, and every time before this moment seemed inappropriate as they let their friendship grow. Somehow it only seemed right to build some sort of foundation before trying to lay claim to the witch he couldn't stop thinking about.
"It's not quite the library, but I'd hoped you'd enjoy it since we aren't allowed to sit at each other's House tables during meals," Draco said as he inched closer to her. He craved her touch, and she hadn't rejected any of his subtle advances since he'd become brazen enough to begin testing her reaction to him being near her.
"Your table manners are much improved from my usual company, and you don't force me into conversations about Quidditch, so you've already exceeded my low standards," she giggled, tucking a curl behind her ear. It immediately sprung back to its original position, tempting him to adjust it for her. Draco reached across the small space between them and gently brushed the loose hair back, his fingers skimming across her soft skin. Ever so slightly, she leaned into his touch, and her hooded brown eyes invited him to move closer. He couldn't resist her draw any longer. Allowing his hand to weave into her thick curls, he pulled her toward him and slowly dropped his lips to hers.
A small spark set them both ablaze; they were burning. Hermione immediately fisted the front of his shirt. Without hesitation, he yanked them both up to their knees, and he felt her warmth against his chest, sending his heart into a gallop. Merlin, he needed more of this witch who'd become a dream to his nightmare of a life. His hands took a slow path down her sides, around her hips, and grasped the curve of her arse, dragging her fully against his hardened, trouser-clad cock. Draco knew she could feel his length pushing against her when the Siren moaned into his mouth. It didn't seem right to move too quickly now. This was a witch that he felt serious about, and he wanted to do things right. Even though they'd technically done much more, it wasn't the same for him since he'd thought she was Pansy at the time. In all honesty, he was nervous about pleasing her. Pulling back with a sigh, he leaned his forehead to hers.
"Is this your way of getting out of your flying lesson?" Draco asked as he kissed the bridge of her nose. The curly-haired witch laughed, moving her attention to the side of his neck, kissing and suckling a trail from his ear down to his collarbone.
"I prefer this, don't you?" she smiled against his skin.
"Yes, of course, but having you with me on my broom is a very close second," he purred into the shell of her ear, enjoying the way she gasped in response. "How can I teach you to fly properly if you're distracting me?" Draco queried as he pulled Hermione to her feet.
"Perhaps distracting you was my plan the whole time," she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, but he turned just in time to capture her lips again. Surrounded by the snow-covered hills of the Highlands, they lingered in their bubble for a while, allowing their hands to explore one another in an impassioned embrace.
"Alright, Granger, you've stalled long enough. It's time to fly," the Slytherin wizard said eventually as he summoned his broom.
"Don't go too fast," Hermione warned with her eyes clamped shut after she'd mounted the broom just as Draco instructed. There was nothing she hated more than flying. If she had things her way, they'd still be wrapped up around one another, safely cuddled in the warmth of their picnic by the lake. Snogging that wizard was nothing like her past romantic encounters. Everything about being with him had her panting for more. Getting to know him better had made her see a side of him she was never privileged to witness before. Unlike Hermione's conversations with the rest of her peers, they were able to converse easily about a myriad of topics. It was surprising to find out that he was just as inquisitive as she was and enjoyed learning new things. These days, his sarcasm was more witty than hurtful, and he often made her laugh. Of course, his handsome face was a bonus, but the best thing about him was the way he made her feel. Understood. Passionate. Beautiful. It was almost as if he was created as a perfect match just for her.
"We haven't even left the ground, and you're already telling me I'm going too fast," the Slytherin scoffed as he mounted his broom behind her. He slid one arm around her waist, cast a wandless Warming Charm, then reached around her with his other hand to grip the handle. "I'm going to take us up now, Granger," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear. After a moment, everything in her body tensed when she felt the movement of him kicking off.
"Are you sure this is safe?" she squeaked while digging her nails into his forearm to hold on.
"I promise you'll be safe with me," he assured her, strengthening his hold around her. "Open your eyes, witch," he commanded softly, the deep tenor of his voice causing her stomach to flip. Tentatively, she peeled her eyes open and realized they were only a few feet off the ground. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "You didn't think I'd fly you over the trees in your first lesson, did you?" he laughed.
"You're not the first person to think they need to teach me to fly on a broom, you know. Their methods were a little different," she replied as she relaxed into his chest.
"That is what you get for allowing Gryffindors to try to teach you something you are afraid to do. If I wasn't such an entitled, bigoted little shite growing up, I would have taught you to be a confident flyer by the end of first year. Pity really," he sniffed, yet she could feel the smile in his voice.
"Perhaps, I should have slapped you more. Maybe that would have helped," she countered with a laugh as he flew them in small circles around a clearing.
"I think you should have tried kissing me sooner. That method has really improved the way we get along," he whispered, tracing the tip of his nose along the rim of her ear and finally planting a slow series of kisses down her neck. Distracted by Draco's touch and the flutter of her heart, Hermione hadn't even noticed they were hovering much higher off the ground.
"If you keep doing things like that, I might start to actually like flying," she breathed when his fingers skimmed under the bottom of her shirt.
"Excellent. Now that you are relaxed, I want you to lean forward slightly and place both of your hands on the handle," the Slytherin instructed smoothly.
"I can't, Malfoy. What if I make us fall?"
"If you make us fall, then we won't live to pass our N.E.W.T.s, and I'll make sure your obituary reports that you never finished school," he teased, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Don't fail, Granger," Draco punctuated with another kiss to the apex of her shoulder.
"I've never failed at anything in my life!" Hermione declared. "And I refuse to start now," the determined witch asserted before grabbing the handle as she was told.
"Just like your wand, the broom is a tool that channels power from your magic. When you're ready, I'm going to release my magic, so my broom can find yours," he said. She nodded in understanding. Obviously, she knew the principles of flying, but it was the physical act of it that she had a hard time with. "Just think about where you want to lead this broom on my command," Draco explained. They were silent for a moment before he said, "Go."
Hermione let out a yelp when they dropped a little but quickly regained her concentration. They sputtered through the air a good ten meters, jerking to a halt every now and then as they went. To his credit, Draco held onto her the whole time and took over shortly after they were almost thrown off the broom when she turned to smile at him. Once they landed safely, they fell over in a raucous of laughter.
"That- was- horrid!" the curly-haired gasped out between her chuckles.
"It was better than I thought," Draco wiped tears from his eyes. The sight of him laughing so hard was worth every moment of her poor excuse for flying.
"Next time will be better," he assured her as he tugged her into his chest and kissed the top of her head.
"Next time? I don't think so, Draco!" Hermione exclaimed as she stepped back to look up at him. For a moment he stood there smirking at her. "What?"
"I could listen to my name fall from your lips all day," he kissed her passionately. "Say it again...Hermione," he drew out her name in a low, sexy tone.
April 1999: Present
You'd think after a month, the novelty of a former Death Eater courting the Golden Girl would have worn off; it hadn't. From the moment they walked hand-in-hand into the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts after their first date, the entire student body was scandalized. There was the predictable gossip about whether Draco had Imperiused Hermione, of course, he had to be using her to gain status, or maybe he was just one of her pity projects.
What they had not expected was Neville Longbottom challenging the blond wizard to a duel in none other than the Great Hall. To his relief, Theo and Blaise had jumped to his defense, knowing that a duel would likely end with Longbottom in the hospital wing and Draco being carted off to Azkaban. That particular event was worth the scare just to witness the dressing down Hermione gave Neville, especially when he threatened to tell Harry all about it. Note to all who believe Potter is Granger's keeper: they will walk around for a week with burning boils on their face no matter what Madam Pomfrey does to try and fix it. After that, no one dared to openly speak out against their relationship, though many had no problem casting angry glares Draco's way. Eventually, Longbottom apologized to the Slytherin wizard for assuming the worst. Draco was so relieved when Neville offered his hand, he didn't even mention that the apology most likely came after the Gryffindor wizard had approval from Potter
"With everyone away for Easter, we practically have the whole castle to ourselves," Hermione grinned, standing on her toes to kiss Draco on the cheek as they left the Great Hall after lunch. They were never alone, and he'd really wanted to be alone with her. Stolen moments in alcoves or by the lake were nice, but they were never enough. He wanted her badly, and he was pretty sure she felt the same about him.
"You know, Theo and I are the only Slytherins left in our House, so…" he trailed off nervously, unable to meet her eyes.
"So?" she asked with a coy smile, taking both of his hands and moving directly into his line of sight. "Something you'd like to ask me, Draco?" she fluttered her eyelids, clearly amused by his uncharacteristic bout of shyness. He couldn't help but grin at this witch, who actually made him feel something. The last few years, he'd spent so much time Occluding everything, he wasn't sure if he'd ever feel again, not until this forbidden woman had forced her way into his life.
"I...was...thinking…," the blond wizard accentuated each word with a searing kiss, "maybe you'd like to stay with me tonight," he breathed into her ear, knowing it drove her crazy with want for him.
"Why wait?" Hermione smiled demurely as she took a step out of his arms and darted off in the directions of the dungeons. When he finally caught her drift, Draco chased after his witch's giggles and screams bouncing off the castle walls. Of course, he caught the Gryffindor easily enough, but once he had her, it started out as their first time all those months ago. Before he knew it, he had her pressed against the wall in front of the Slytherin dormitory entrance, grinding against her as if they were already naked. Knowing it was Hermione Granger in his arms this time made it all the sweeter. Through some miracle, he managed to utter the password and carried the witch wrapped around him down the hall to his room, oblivious to Nott sitting in the common room watching them pass with his mouth agape.
"If you keep that up, you'll certainly be the death of me, witch," he purred, kicking his door closed and laying her down gently on his bed. His witch was beautiful with her hair sprawled out on his pillows as she stared at him with lust-filled eyes. If he could remember this moment for the rest of his life, he would be grateful. Draco nearly lost it when her breath hitched as he ripped off his shirt and climbed on top of her, kissing and sucking her exposed neck, which only caused her hips to roll against him.
"More," Hermione pleaded as she grabbed his shoulders, seeking purchase for her undulating body. "I need more, Malfoy," she whispered. Draco would not disappoint. His hands snaked under her shirt, and he rubbed his thumbs in circles against her soft skin. They crept up the steps of her ribs, softly skimming her thin bra. Eventually, he dragged them over her hardened nipples, and she sucked in a sharp breath, pushing her chest up toward him. Her hips never stopped their cadence as she slipped out of the oppressive garment.
"Fucking perfect, Granger" the blond wizard praised when he came face-to-face with Hermione's lace-covered tits. Hopefully one day, Draco could spend more time admiring the sight before him but right now, he was a man possessed. With a snap of his fingers, he'd unclasped her bra and tossed it aside. As he took one of her tightened nubs into his mouth, he kneaded her other breast with his free hand, switching between the two to provide them with equal attention.
"Touch me...please. Draco..., please," Hermione begged as she pushed her hips harder against the stiffness in his trousers. That sultry voice whispering his name like a prayer was music to his soul. It fueled him.
"Let me taste you, love," he growled as he kissed his way down, quickly divesting her of her Muggle jeans and dragging her lace knickers down her body with his teeth.
"Draaaa--co!" Hermione moaned as he bit the inside of her thigh. He'd never done this before, but Theo always fucking raved about it and thoroughly explained how it was done. The man had found quite a few Hufflepuffs willing to shag the son of a Death Eater since he supposedly had a reputation for having a magic mouth.
As soon as the flat of Draco's tongue began to explore her folds, Hermione immediately grabbed fistfuls of his hair while she bucked against his face. It didn't take her long before her thighs began to squeeze around his head as she screamed incoherent words. At least he knew he was doing something right.
"Yes, Draco! Yes!" she moaned over and over as he licked her through her orgasm. "I need you inside me now!" Hermione demanded, yanking him up to her with more force than he expected and flipping him on his back. She made quick work of his trousers, tossing them to the floor angrily as if they offended her.
The Gryffindor witch straddled him, rubbing against his cock with wide expressive eyes, and he could feel how ready she was for him. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with feeling everything all at once. His heart constricted as he gazed at the gorgeous woman before him, a mess of curls he wanted to wrap his hands in, curves he desperately needed to explore, and eyes that arrested him when they looked upon him with...love? Salazar's sack! The word revealed itself to him like an elusive Snitch, filling every void in his body and the desire to be a man who could deserve her. Draco knew then as well as he knew he was a wizard that he was in love with Hermione Granger.
Through some unspoken agreement, she sank down on him, those eyes drinking him in as if she needed him as much as he did her. Merlin, she was beautiful. Draco reached out to feel the rhythmic rolling of her hips and squeezed. It was almost too much, and he was surprised he'd lasted this long as they moved together as one. Hermione leaned back, one hand braced on his thigh while the other snaked down between her legs. The witch looked like a fucking goddess, and he nearly came watching her bring herself to completion while riding him. The Slytherin tightened his grip on her hips, slamming into her as she fell apart around him, screaming his name as if it tethered her to this world. With a few more pumps, he exploded inside her.
"Mmmm," Hermione sighed, falling over to lay her head on his chest. His arms automatically wrapped around her, and the two laid in his bed cloaked in one another's warmth. Her hair fell down like soft curtains around them. They lay there in comfortable silence for a while before Draco resolved to tell this witch how he felt about her. He needed her to know.
"This isn't just...just a passing fancy for me, Hermione," he said earnestly, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes that she might return his feelings. "I think I...these past few months I've...I've fallen for you…," he slowly opened his eyes, gathering the courage to tell her something he'd never said to anyone. "I love you, Hermione Granger...I'm...in love with you," the blond wizard stated shyly. Pushing herself up from his chest with surprise, she stared at him in surprise. He watched as her eyes glossed over and let out the deep breath he was holding when she offered him a watery grin.
"I love you too, Draco!" she happily exclaimed as she bent down to kiss him. In his elation, he flipped them over and gazed into her eyes with a grin.
"You're sure?" he queried as if he couldn't believe it to be true. Chestnut curls bounced up and down when she nodded with a chuckle.
June 1999: Present
They'd finally done it. Completing their N.E.W.T.s was the last task they needed to check off before starting their real life. To celebrate, Draco was able to sneak Hermione into his bed for one last night before they left Hogwarts for good.
"Merlin, Granger, don't you look properly shagged," Theo smirked when the couple finally emerged from Draco's room the next morning, just in time for breakfast. Hermione felt heat slowly crawl up her cheeks. "Thanks for not casting a Silencing Charm as you usually do. I had a good three wanks off the two of you going at it over and over again," he winked at the Gryffindor witch and made a show of adjusting his trousers. Though Theo's form of teasing was his way of showing acceptance, the Gryffindor witch still became easily embarrassed by his lascivious sense of humor.
"Piss off, Nott," Draco playfully pushed his leering friend out of the way, so the couple could eat breakfast since they'd worked up quite an appetite the night before.
"Will Potter be privy to your fun while you're staying at his place? Better yet, does he get to join?" Blaise inquired, smirking at his blond friend's exasperated look. Draco wasn't all too thrilled to move into Harry's home after graduation, but his mother was still upset with the news that he'd fallen for Hermione. "If I find out he gets to play, and I never did, you'll both rue the day," he threatened, pointing at the pair as if his extremely explicit threesome fantasies would ever involve the two of them. The Italian wizard had a habit of drinking too much Firewhiskey and thoroughly detailing the things he wanted to do sexually with each one of his friends. The first time Neville had spent a Saturday night with the Slytherins, his reddened face rivaled Ron's when Blaise had thrown an arm around him and whispered his desires in the Gryffindor wizard's ear. Neville politely declined but continued to spend time in the dungeons, though they found out later he'd been snogging Pansy on a regular basis after that.
"You're vile, Blaise! Harry is practically my brother!" Hermione said with disgust.
"I'm not your brother though, am I?," Zabini countered as he blew a kiss her way, which she swatted away.
"I'll remind you that my probation ends today, so if you want your bollocks to stay intact, I suggest you both quit flirting with my witch," Draco interceded, pulling Hermione past his depraved friends and through the portrait hole, the two Slytherin wizards laughing in the couple's wake.
"And I'll remind you that I don't belong to anyone," she kissed his hand.
"Not even your heart, love?" he asked pitifully. Her wizard always melted for her regardless of the hard exterior he showed the rest of the world.
"In that case, you do own my heart as I own yours," the curly-haired witch pulled Draco into a searing kiss.
Three Years Later
"A baby? So soon?" Narcissa looked aghast by the happy news as the three of them ate alone in a grand dining room at the Manor meant for at least 50 guests.
"We've been married for nearly a year already, Mother," Draco sighed. As much as she tried, it seemed like his mother would never come around to having a Muggle-born daughter-in-law. While the rest of the wizarding world had come to accept and even encourage the love between the former Death Eater and the Golden Girl, his mother continued to hope for a pureblood heir one day. He'd nearly cut her off permanently when the woman had the audacity to invite Astoria Greengrass to his and Hermione's engagement party to "make sure he kept his options open". It had been his then-fiancé that'd talked him out of shunning his mother forever when she herself had lost both of her parents a few years prior. With a smile on her face and in spite of the circumstances, his witch had introduced her best friend, Harry to Astoria, and the two were set to marry by the end of the year. Things like that were exactly why he loved his wife. She handled absolutely everything with poise and grace.
"I suppose this is real then," the older witch murmured to her omelet.
"It's always been real!" Draco slammed his fist on the table, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. In an attempt to soothe him, Hermione grasped his forearm, a silent reminder that no matter what, she loved him. "Listen, Mother," he started after a moment. "Hermione and I are quite thrilled to meet our son or daughter, and we will love this child enough for all of the grandparents he or she has already lost," he placed his hand on his wife's growing belly. "You have an opportunity to either be our child's only grandparent, or you may choose to be a stranger. It's your choice," he warned her as he rose from his seat and pulled his wife to follow him.
"Darling, please-" his mother started to protest.
"I suggest you take your time to really think about what is important, Mother because this is the last time you will speak to or about my wife in any way aside from the respect she deserves, and I refuse to allow you near our child with your poisoned beliefs," Draco warned her as he stepped through the Floo with Hermione and back to the home they'd made together.
A/N- Thank you for reading my story. Please leave feedback and let me know what you think.