Author's Note: This piece was originally written for Strictly Dramione's Summer Loving - Back to Hogwarts Fest that I'm very excited to start posting here as well! It's a three chapter mini-fic that I'll be uploading the other two parts of the next few days (chapter two on Wednesday, chapter three on Friday). In conjunction with Friday, I'll also be uploading the next chapter of my current WIP Somewhere Down the Line (sorry for that delay... this piece had to get written first and my real life is a mess and a half at the moment).

Now for the thank yous! Thank you to the admins of Strictly Dramione for hosting this fest and to LightofEvolution who made sure I didn't quit even though I considered it at least twenty times the past week alone. She's also in the process of uploading her fest piece on FFN, as is a slew of other authors, so check those out as well :)

Anddddd onto the story!


Draco drew in a deep breath, keeping his eyes closed just a few more minutes, his witch still fast asleep, safely wrapped in his arms. The fresh summer breeze flowed through the window of his family's lake house, causing her hair to tickle his nose. He smiled at the sensation and pulled her in even closer, eliminating what little gap there was between them to begin with.

He was going to miss this. Miss all of this. The sheer simplicity of waking up with absolutely no cares in the world, their temporary oasis away from the outside world. But he knew that tomorrow morning, it would be gone - all of it. So for one last time, he savoured the feel of her angel soft skin against his, committing to memory the way she gently hummed whenever his fingers grazed over her thigh.

"Draco," she mewled as he pulled back a portion of her hair and pressed his lips against the sensitive part of her neck.

The electrifying way his heart warmed whenever she said his name confirmed just how deeply he had fallen for her in that short month. It was better than any other feeling in the entire world. Better than flying his broom around the Quidditch pitch on a perfect spring afternoon. Better than defeating his father in an hour long Wizard's Chess match. And even better than the intoxicating smell of a Potion's lab with several cauldrons filled with Amortentia - because right now, he had the real thing.

But only for one more day.

When he had run into her at Hogsmeade that fated evening, he had never imagined it would end like this. He had just finished his interview with McGonagall at Hogwarts and was spending the night at the Three Broomsticks before returning to his flat in London when he had spotted her across the crowded, smoky pub. He had the barmaid send her over a Butterbeer, only intending for it to be a casual olive branch with no need for further action, but she took it as an opportunity to come over and start a conversation. They chatted about their lives since the war, how he had spent the past several years studying under a Potions Master in France, slowly reestablishing his life far away from the judgment of Wizarding Britain, while she had returned to Hogwarts, completed her N.E.W.T.s, and become a certified Healer. The conversation flowed, as did the Butterbeer, and the next thing he knew, his own reservation at the inn went unused.

When he awoke the following morning, the space beside him was cold and empty. At first, he was fearful that she had run away as soon as she recognised the man she had woken up next to, but then he noticed the scrap of parchment on the nightstand with her address on it.

Three days later, he showed up at her door with a bottle of wine and devious intentions, and they had hardly spent a night apart since.

But even from the beginning, she had made her position clear. This wasn't anything serious - just pure, casual fun. A way to get over their past by getting under each other instead.

At the time, Draco had more than willingly agreed. He had only recently returned to the UK, and he had just secured a job that would finally set his life back on a normal track here in his home country. He refused to get involved in something that would risk derailing from that course. After all, this was Hermione Granger he was talking about, so there wasn't any chance in that happening.

And yet here he was, completely smitten with the witch he had spent half his life belittling.

She shifted in bed and slowly stretched her arms over her head, her joints cracking softly as they fully extended. "We need to get up," she said, her voice still a bit groggy.

"Absolutely not," he challenged, tightening his grip around her waist. "This is our last morning together so I vote we stay in bed all day."

He lined her shoulder with several short kisses, prompting more soft hums to escape from behind her lips with every new connection. He found his favourite spot at the base of her neck and started to suck as his hand left her waist and started to travel down to the promised folds between her legs. Two fingers traced over her already slick slit, her body not wasting any time.

Her back arched into his chest at his unexpected but welcomed touch, starting their morning the best way he knew how.

"Don't you dare tell me that you'd rather we get out of bed," he growled in her ear as he slipped his fingers inside.

Hermione's head knocked back, her mouth falling open as he pushed them in further. "I want -" she gasped, but her words fell silent when his thumb made its way to her clit.

"Is this what you wanted?"

She attempted to say something, but her breath caught short again, unable to complete the thought as his ministrations continued.

"What's that, love?" he said, a small smirk starting to form across his lips, relishing the way she always got lost in his touch. "I couldn't quite understand you."

She let out a deep moan, but not before she uttered, "Pancakes."

Draco froze, his fingers still deep inside her. "Pancakes?" he asked in disbelief. When he felt her head nod up and down, he removed himself from within her and sat up. "I'm trying to make you orgasm, yet you want pancakes?"

Hermione craned her head back to look up at him, her cheeks having turned rosy. "What can I say? You make really good pancakes."

Draco would be mad, but dammit, there was something too cute about the way she stared up at him with those irresistible brown eyes. With a look like that, she might as well have him under the Imperius Curse.

He threw the sheets off from over him and located his boxers on the ground and tugged them on, shaking his head back and forth with a small smile across his lips. "All this time I thought you were using me for sex when really you just wanted to get your hands on my pancakes!"

Hermione stretched out across the length of the bed so that her bare stomach lied flat against the mattress as she rested her cheek against the back of her hand. "They're even better than Lisa's."

Draco chuckled warmly. "I take that as a massive compliment."

He bent down and gave her a quick kiss before he grabbed his wand off the dresser and headed into the kitchen. After washing his hands, he swished his wand and summoned the necessary ingredients; the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt came out of the cabinet, while the eggs, milk, and butter flew out from within the refrigerator. There was only one witch in the entire world that he would cook for, and she was it.

He smiled to himself, remembering when she had initially told him about her former roommate. It was about two and a half weeks ago, the first time they had had dinner together. It hadn't been a planned event - more of an accident really - but that night ended up being a crucial turning point for him.

He had Apparated to her place, anticipating that it would just be like any other evening. First they would split a bottle of wine and then they would go into her bedroom where the night would really begin. But when he arrived that evening, Hermione was still in her kitchen making dinner.

"Let's make this clear," she said, the second he stepped foot inside the room. "I am not cooking you dinner. You are early for sex, and you can have some if you're hungry."

Draco stepped closer and looked over her shoulder to peek inside the pot on the cooker. "What in Merlin's name is that monstrosity?" he asked, looking down at the unusual mixture of elbow pasta with an assortment of shredded cheese.

"Macaroni cheese," she answered while stirring the contents with a wooden spoon.

"And you intend on eating that for dinner?"

Hermione reddened at his remark. "I'm not a very good cook, but my roommate during Healer training was American, and she taught me a few easy meals so I wouldn't starve to death. It's actually not bad if you'd like to venture a taste once it's done."

"There aren't enough Galleons in Gringotts for me to try that."

And yet somehow, despite those words, not thirty minutes later, he was on the couch with Hermione rested in his lap, his second bowl of macaroni cheese in his hands. There may not be enough Galleons, but Hermione's persuasive skills turned out to be more potent.

"I hate you for introducing this to me," he said, taking another bite from the dish. "Who knew pasta covered with melted cheese could be so addicting?"

She laughed. "Leave it to the Americans!" She then set her empty bowl on the table and started to get up. "Well, I better go grab the bottle of -"

"Not yet," he interrupted, instinctively pulling at the back of her shirt so she couldn't get up any further. "I'm way too full at the moment to even consider drinking anything."

Hermione looked back at him curiously, apparently having expected them to jump right back into their typical routine now that dinner was over. "Then what do you suggest we do while we wait?"

"You know, we could actually talk for once."

Hermione snorted. "About what exactly?"

Draco shrugged. "You could tell me more about that American roommate of yours for starters."

"Lisa?" Hermione laughed again. "Oh, where do I even begin?"

They spent the rest of the evening chatting, and by the end of the night, they had gone through two bottles of wine but had never made it to her bedroom. When he awoke the next morning, she was still nestled in his lap, a soft snore coming out of her. He smiled at the sight of her peaceful state as he ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to disturb her slumber.

It was at that moment that Draco realised that perhaps there was more to this than just casual, albeit fantastic, sex.

And the even stranger thing was that he didn't hate that prospect.

He strategically removed himself from under her and rested her head on the couch cushion before tip-toeing his way to the kitchen. He found her box of recipes on the counter and decided to surprise her with breakfast. He flipped through the cards until he found something that looked simple enough but would still impress her.

Draco now stared down at that very same card, a recipe he had since memorised. Ever since he had made her breakfast that morning, she insisted on his pancakes whenever they spent the night together. He may vocally complain about it, but he was secretly rather proud of the fact that he had managed to at least partially win her over with such a simple gesture.

It was odd to think that this would be his last time cooking breakfast for her. His heart ached at the unwelcome reminder of their impending deadline. But as discussed and mutually agreed upon, when the month ended, so were they, and at midnight, it would be September 1st.

For the past two weeks, he had gone back and forth on whether or not he would bring up the possibility of extending their self-imposed expiration date. He highly doubted he was alone in his feelings. They had grown far too comfortable with each other over the course of the past month for it to still be considered "just pure, casual fun."

But he had agreed to the deadline for a reason - a bitter reality that he constantly had to remind himself. McGonagall was putting a lot of faith in him by hiring him as the new Potions professor this upcoming term. They both knew that parents and press alike would not react kindly to the controversial staffing choice, which is why they had decided to keep it secret. Draco hadn't told anyone about his new position - not even Hermione. This was his opportunity to reestablish himself, and he couldn't take any risks.

So as much as it pained him to admit, it was for the best that things with Hermione ended now. He had to be completely dedicated to his professorship, and that would be quite difficult if his mind became preoccupied with a long-distance romance. Maybe he could stash her away in his luggage and take her with him to Hogwarts. That would solve everything.

Draco reached into the cupboard and retrieved the mixing bowl, sighing in the process. If only the solution was that simple.

He quickly suppressed his gloom and forced himself to return his focus to the ingredients in front of him. Wistful contemplation of what could have been was fruitless.

They still had one more day, and he had every intention to make it count.