So, this is the new chapter. I'd like to tell you that I'm sorry it took so long because I really am, and I'll spare you any story that seems like I'm trying for your sympathy. Writing new things like oneshots or drabbles is easy. Being in the middle of a multi-chapter is hard to write. So when my updates are late, I'm really sorry I haven't been able to maintain an update schedule for you, but it's because I'm attempting to make them the best I can. Further notes at the bottom if you're inclined to read, but I hope this will be an enjoyable chapter!
Mcal edited and kept me from panicking. All other mistakes are my own.
Hermione
"You do this every morning?" Draco wheezed, coming to what was the sixth stop—she'd counted—and braced his hands against his knees. "No wonder you're so fucking fit." He wiped his forehead, and she steadied him by laying her hand on his shoulder.
Hermione grinned. "You don't have to do my entire run, you know. It's probably not the best idea anyway, considering you don't normally go for runs. You ought to work your way up, or you'll pull something."
He waved her off. "I know when I'm about to pull something. I'll be fine."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but if you pull something, you'll be benched from any strenuous activity." Hermione nibbled her bottom lip, fighting off a smile as he looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. "I just don't think you would want that to happen." Hermione swallowed.
He snorted. "Yes, because we've had so much time for that."
It was true. In what had been a comical twist at the beginning, but now threated to cause to take a day off, it seemed the universe was against them fucking. And that was crass, but true.
Hermione glanced down at her watch. "You're right. We wouldn't have enough time before I leave for work, but as it stands, we may not have enough time to finish the run before either."
Grumbling under his breath, Draco glared at her. "What do you suggest? Turning back now?"
She folded her arms over her chest. "Did you stretch this morning?"
Silence.
"Are you serious? You're a doctor! You must know the strain that running puts on your body, and you didn't bother to stretch?" Hermione couldn't stop laughing. "I thought you stretched while we were in my flat? I know that I—you were staring at my arse, weren't you?"
He gave a smug smile. "Maybe a little."
Fighting off the smile that tugged at both sides of her mouth, Hermione shook her head. "Let's head back. There's a shortcut through the park, and we can stop into the Three Broomsticks. Do you mind?"
Threading his fingers through hers, Draco followed her lead.
Halfway through the day, Hermione knew she wouldn't be leaving on time. Honestly, she'd be lucky if she left before the janitor finished cleaning the offices, which would be after eleven o'clock. It was another day that she had to unfortunately reschedule a date with Draco.
"It's just a wonder that you're not sick of this yet." She mumbled, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear. "I mean, I know I would be."
There's a rustle of papers in the background. "I'm tired of rescheduling, yes, but that's not to say I'm tired of you. Besides, there are going to be days that I may not even get the chance to call you if I need to cancel. Anything could happen when I'm in the middle of a shift, so don't worry about it."
She clicked her pen repeatedly, imagining what it would be like to be sitting in a restaurant waiting for him, only for him to be in surgery that had been so sudden he couldn't call her. The thought made her stomach roll, but it made sense. It did, and they were adults, fully capable of handling what came with it.
"I'll call you when I get home if you like? Though I'm sure it will be late."
Seamus entered her office with another article, giving her a sheepish smile as he laid it on her desk. "Tell the hot doctor I said hi."
Draco coughed. "Who was that?"
"Seamus," Hermione replied, rubbing her temple. "He knows your name, but he insists on referring to you as the hot doctor in case anyone forgets that you are, in fact, a hot doctor."
He sniggered. "Right then. What has you so busy today?"
"Deadlines," she deadpanned. "Usually, it's fine, but one small mistake sets everyone out of sorts for the rest of the month. It's not so bad when the misstep comes in the last week, but…" Hermione sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Padma mistakenly sent an email to an interviewee that was meant to be next month, but we've had to move it to this month since now they've informed us it's either this month, or not at all."
"Sounds like an arse , if you ask me."
She agreed. "I've said much worse."
"Could you not move anything to next month to even it out?" Draco asked. "No, ma'am, that would be on the next floor. Take the lift at the end, and go to level four."
Shaking her head even though no one could see her—false, everyone outside her office could if they looked, considering her blinds weren't drawn—Hermione could only sigh. "No, we couldn't. Hopefully staying late tonight to put extra work in will help, but I'm not looking forward to the rest of the month."
A door opened and closed. "I'm sorry, love."
Outside of her office, Padma was frantically waving at her. "I have to go. Padma needs my help. Are we still good for dinner tomorrow?"
"Of course. I'll see you at seven."
Hermione was early, and she sat at their usual table, stirring her coffee. The bell dinged as he stepped inside, and Luna pointed him toward the back. "She's got your order already!" Luna sang, and flounced into the back, still singing to herself.
Draco's smile slipped from his face as he neared her. "What are you drinking?"
"Coffee." She answered, blowing on it before tilting the styrofoam cup to her lips. "I ordered your tea for you, and Luna told me you liked the croissants the best."
He shrugged out of his coat, draping it over the back of the chair. "What's wrong?"
She supposed there was no hiding it. Her sour look was still on her face surely, and Draco, as annoyingly observant as he was, knew she gravitated toward what he called real coffee when she was upset. "I didn't sleep very well."
"Still sick?"
She shook her head. Fishing her mobile from her pocket, she slid it across the table, swiping to the e-mail she'd received early that morning. "Got that around six, and I couldn't go back to sleep."
His eyes narrowed as he read the message, his mouth falling open. "They're rejecting it after accepting it? How are they able to do that?"
Hermione's shoulders fell. "I called for a further explanation, and the only one in the office so early was an intern. Luckily, she reviewed the notes, and was able to answer my questions, but..." She sucked a sharp breath. "They received another piece at the last minute, and chose to feature it above mine. The author is already published, so I'm sure it's much better—"
Draco grabbed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. "I truly doubt that."
"They're still sending me the wages that were promised, but it feels more like a slap in the face than anything. I was just..." Hermione dragged her fingers through her hair. "I was so happy because it felt like I was getting somewhere."
He tilted his head to the side. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay." She murmured. "Really, it's upsetting, but it's okay. There's always the next one, right?" As optimistic as her words were, her tone didn't match it.
Draco must have noticed, but he only smiled weakly and held her hand. "Would you like to talk more about it?"
Not really. But she ought to. Otherwise, she'd bottle the disappointment until it overflowed as she received another rejection. "I should be better with handling rejection when it's a part of my own career. Only I'm the one doing the rejecting, and not the way being rejected." She muttered. "It's not as if they outright shot my entry down. They were pleased with my work, but it just…"
"It's understandable to be upset, Hermione. It didn't work out this time, but that doesn't mean it will happen every time." Thunder cracked outside, lightning streaking across the sky. "Maybe you could take a step back for a week?"
No. Hermione squeezed his hand. "On the contrary, I think I'll just try harder. I've always been stubborn, and maybe if I can set aside my negativity, I can use creativity as an outlet." She laughed as a wide grin spread across his face. "It would be nice if it was easier, but if it was, I suppose everyone would do it."
Draco
Katie downed her water in one swallow, and tossed it into the rubbish bin. "Can you make it in?"
He scoffed. "What do you take me for?"
She smiled and motioned for him to go. "Take your shot then, Malfoy. Whoever wins has to buy dinner all next week."
"This seems like a silly bet for such a large payoff."
She drummed her fingers against the table. "Scared, Malfoy?" Egged on by her, Draco drained the bottle of water, and leaned to the side, lining up his shot. "Hermione is calling. Should I answer for you?"
He missed.
"OH!" Katie sniggered. "That was a tremendous, stupendous failure, Dr Malfoy. Seems to me you were distracted by your girlfriend calling, which is just the cutest thing I've ever seen."
Draco snatched his mobile from her extended hand. "You knew I would miss if you said she was calling."
She waved him off. "What do you take me for?" Katie mimicked. "The two of you are good together. It's nice to see you so happy."
He let the words sink in, observing what she didn't say, which was that he'd been a dick after transferring hospitals. Hermione had certainly changed nearly every part of his life. "Thank you. She means a great deal to me."
Katie climbed to her feet, and the legs of her chair screeched as she pushed it under the table. "I'm sorry there was nothing to be done for the last patient, but it's not your fault." She settled a hand on his shoulder. "And, not that it will make it any better, but he couldn't have survived the surgery either."
Draco nodded, patting her hand. "It's alright." He replied easily. "Not your fault either."
She left him with that, and the room to himself. Surely it would fill with staff soon, but he took a moment to call Hermione back.
"Hello?" She answered breathlessly. "Sorry, give me a second—Max, no, don't you dare. Get off that counter!" Barks echoed in the background, and Draco stifled his laugh in his sleeve. "Uh, sorry. Hagrid called me, and asked if I could stop by to wrangle the dogs. They all got out of their kennels because of a new volunteer."
"Sounds like you're having quite the night then." It was only ten o'clock, and Hermione was chasing down dogs in the dark. Of course she was. "Did you call me by mistake then?"
"No," she caught her breath. "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. I'll cook?" There was a crash in the background, followed by a long groan.
"Is Max causing trouble?"
"Max is always causing trouble." She growled, the sound distorting through the phone. "I'll see you after the end of your shift then? Meet you there?"
Draco agreed.
Hermione
He didn't make it to dinner.
She wasn't upset, not with him at least, and she realised it was just a hazard of his career. Draco had called her with a rushed apology, explaining himself when he didn't need to, but she let him tell her everything. A teenager had been stabbed, and not only was it all he could tell her even if he knew more, it was all he knew.
His calmness struck her, though she supposed he must be used to it all by now. She wouldn't refer to him as desensitsed. She murmured that they could meet another day, and it would be no problem. Saturday, they agreed. Which was perfect considering she wanted to see him before Weasley Sunday dinner so she could prepare him.
Not everyone could handle the entire family, especially when it was a first meeting. Even she couldn't handle all of them at times, but at least Draco was only meeting Molly and Arthur for the first time. Not that it was any better, Molly had enough energy for everyone.
In other aspects of her life, Hermione had nailed down a schedule. As much as she enjoyed writing in the Three Broomsticks, and she loved the atmosphere, she wasn't getting anything done. She'd been jotting down character traits for months with nothing to show for it. And honestly, she ought to have something to show for it.
Starting at the beginning was rough, and discouraging. At the end of the night, after work, after seeing Draco if she had the chance—though their lives didn't revolve around the other—she sat down for an hour. It had started as thirty minutes, but she had quickly increased it. Sometimes she stared at the screen as if it would make her thoughts come together.
And when they did come together, Hermione was interrupted.
Grumbling under her breath, she flipped her phone over. "I should have turned the blasted ringer off." The message stretched across her screen, and whatever thought she'd previously had was gone.
From Draco, 9:57 P.M.: Are you busy?
It wasn't the contents of the message that made her panic, but the fact that Draco had texted her at all. He insisted that he didn't want to make her lose her train of thought. Hermione pressed call without a second thought, and pressed her mobile to her ear. As it connected, she spoke in a rush. "Draco?"
"I'm fine." He answered, but the tone was clipped and she wasn't sure what to make of it. "Nothing happened at the hospital."
But something had happened. That much was obvious from the iciness in his tone.
Draco sighed, and she could imagine him running his fingers through his hair as he usually did. "It's incredibly embarrassing, but my father called me to stage a fight about my life choices, and I just want to see you."
Her chest warmed. Hermione sat in her chair with her legs drawn to her chest, braced against the edge of her desk. "Of course. I could bring something to you as well, if you like?"
Seconds passed, and there was murmuring in the background, followed by the ding of the elevator. "Whatever you want." He replied. "I just need a moment of peace and quiet."
She laughed. "You're coming to the wrong place then. I'm hardly peaceful."
The corner of his mouth probably twitched. "You're certainly wrong there."
Hermione shut her laptop, all her previous thoughts already gone, but she didn't mind. "Thirty minutes?"
Draco slid into the passenger seat of her car after she'd found the only available parking spot. He scratched the back of his neck as he took the cup she held out. "I'm sorry. You were—"
She shook her head. "Don't worry about that. I'm happy to see you, even if it's not for the best reasons. Do you want to tell me about it?"
He swiped a chip from her basket that was precariously balanced on the edge of her dash. "Lucius is a right prick."
Choking, Hermione did her best to not laugh. Under a different set of circumstances, if Draco wasn't so irritated, it would have been humourous. "He's not the warm sort from what I gathered on your birthday."
He scoffed. "He's too judgemental is what it is. I'm long past wanting to impress him, but I'm not sure where he gets off thinking he can question my decisions." Draco grumbled. "I didn't want to tell you this because I worry it will upset you, but I think you'd be more angry by that than anything else."
"You'd be right." She nodded. "He doesn't like me, I know that. I'm not your ex-wife." She shrugged.
"Thank God for that." Draco sucked in a breath. "It's pressing to mention that he doesn't call just to chat. Lucius called to ask me if I'd come to my senses about Astoria, and those were his exact words. I suppose he didn't see fit to use subtlety this time."
Her chest twisted, and Hermione nodded. It hurt more than she wanted to admit. What should it matter if Draco's father disliked her so much? "I see."
He dragged a hand tiredly down his face. "Hermione,"
"It's fine."
"My father doesn't know anything about you; his opinion is irrelevant to me. His priorities are wildly out of order, and they're centered about appearances."
It rubbed her the wrong way, and she didn't mean for her voice to come out as harshly as it did. "So I'm bad for appearances then?" Hermione snapped. "I understand, Draco. I don't need you to explain it to me."
He flinched slightly. "He has no right."
She didn't care about Lucius Malfoy and his skewed opinions—though it did cause a twinge in her chest that stubbornly wouldn't go away—but there was one thing that bothered her. "What did you tell him when he brought this up?"
Draco lifted his eyes, and didn't pull away from her. "I told him that I'm quite happy with you, and nothing he could say would change my mind."
She nodded. "That's enough for me. I'm not dating your father. I'm dating you. I'm terribly sorry that he has no sense of boundaries, and I hope that in the future, he'll come to realise your choices are your own. After all, you're only an adult." Hermione grinned, swiping a chip right out of his grasp.
He lunged at her, and their food went flying. Chuckling as she squealed, Draco closed his mouth around the chip, stealing it. "It's impolite to steal food," he murmured, half leaning across the console.
Flabbergasted, Hermione stared at him. "It's impolite to throw food everywhere!"
His fingers grazed her sides, eliciting a giggle.
"Don't," she warned.
Draco's lips twitched. "Are you ticklish?"
In her most obstinate voice, she insisted, "Absolutely not."
He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?" His fingers curled against her sides. "Are you sure?"
Hermione scrambled for the door handle, unwilling to be tickled, but Draco hauled her across the car and deposited her into his lap. "If anyone sees us, we'll look like a pair of randy teenagers."
"Then I suppose we'll have to be sure that no one sees us." Draco whispered, locking an arm around her waist as he reached down with the other. The seat gave way, and Hermione fell on top of him as the seat reclined. "Besides, no one is going to be out here this late. Shifts don't end until midnight." He nuzzled her neck, his lips warm against the soft skin there.
"Then," Hermione gasped when his fingers dug into her hips, and he bit down. "Shouldn't you be inside the hospital? Not—" a whimper escaped her as his hands slipped under her shirt. They didn't stray, not in the slightest, but he held her tightly against him. "Not fondling your girlfriend?"
He sniggered, twisting a curl around his finger. "But I'm so fond of fondling my girlfriend."
"You're going to start something you can't finish." Hermione said simply, lifting her head up. "And then it will be terribly awkward when you have to go back to work when you're hard." She pressed slow kisses to his throat. "I don't think those scrubs are going to hide anything, do you?"
Draco groaned, letting his head fall back.
She peered up at him, accidentally rolling her hips against his, but only once. "Draco?"
"Stay with me tonight." His voice was soft, so quiet that she could pretend she hadn't heard it if she wasn't interested, and Draco wouldn't have said anything. "I leave in just over an hour. Unless you…"
She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his while awkwardly leaning on him. "I don't want to make it hard to breathe." She muttered, and it was ridiculous, but the words had already left her.
"Hermione, I'll find a way to breathe."
Hermione didn't have to think about her answer. They'd been trying to find time for over a month since everything began on his sofa, and she thought about it more than she would ever admit to him. "I'll stay." She breathed. "I'd love to."
He crushed his lips to hers while his nails scraped her scalp.
She leaned against his door already when he reached the top of the stairs. Smirking, Hermione tilted her head to the side. "You know, it took you long enough. I thought about leaving."
Draco closed the distance in two short strides, coming to tower over her. "You wouldn't have left," he murmured as he pressed her to the door. "Not when you want this just as badly as I do." Draco's breath rolled across her ear as her fingers wound in his shirt. "Isn't that right, Hermione?"
She shivered as his chest met hers, and her back was solidly fixed against his front door. "I'm not sure what you're talking about." Wearing a wide grin, Hermione fisted her hands in his shirt. "Are you going to invite me in?"
He looked both ways, and there was a tick in his jaw when he looked back to her. "I think not." His words hadn't registered before he hoisted her up, his hands settling on her arse as her back met the door—harder this time—and his lips slanted against her.
It was well into the early morning hours, she reasoned with herself. No one was likely to see them, but being out in the open, even in the darkness—
Hermione's fingers sunk into his hair, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, digging a space in the bottom of his back. Whispering his name, and gasping as his lips skimmed her jaw, and then down her throat, her head tilted back.
She was certain there would be marks left from her scratching his back, even through his clothes. "Unless you're planning to, oh—" A whimper escaped her, high and needy, and incredibly mortifying if he had any nosy neighbors. "—continue this outside, we should probably—"
"Yeah." Draco nodded, pulling away from her. His lips were flushed, and he set her down easily. Fumbling with his keys while Hermione pressed her lips against his collarbone through his shirt, and slid her hands across his chest, neither of them were surprised when he dropped them. "God, it's like I'm a teenager again." He groaned.
Hermione bent down to pick them up, holding them up with a cheeky grin. "Yeah, are your parents home?"
He had her against the door again before she could form a follow up remark.
Finding the key while resting her arms over his shoulder was no easy task, especially when his hands slipped under her shirt, already eager to explore every inch of her skin. But she managed to slide it into the lock and twist it.
The door gave way, and so did her weight that had been resting against it. "Fuck!" Draco growled. His fingers dug into her hips, and she stared up at him, her mouth drying. "Clearly I wasn't as distracting as I thought."
She swallowed. "You were plenty distracting."
He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I'm very good at multitasking." Hermione answered, stepping backward away from him while clasping her hands behind her back. "In all areas, really." As she recognised the look that flashed across his face, Hermione turned on her heel.
They crashed into his bedroom, his hands all over her as he'd elected to not let her walk on her own, and his shirt had been left somewhere in the living room.
Perhaps it was tossed over the sofa, or maybe it was near her own top.
Or her bra.
Draco traced her skin, pressing his lips to her throat while dragging them between her breasts. Murmuring how pretty she was, how he'd waited so long to have her just like this, Draco deposited her onto his bed.
Hermione crawled to the middle of it, resting on her elbows as she peered up at him. Her leggings quickly followed, as did his trousers.
He hovered over her, kissing her until she was dizzy, and his knee wedged between her thighs. "Hermione," Draco whispered roughly, tilting her head up.
She swallowed greedy mouthfuls of air as she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulled him down. "Oh—" Hermione buried her face in his neck with a choked moan.
His hand slid between them, his fingers dipping against her folds, and she clung to him as he traced her clit gently.
Barely.
Not enough.
Once.
Twice.
Hermione raked her nails down his back and her hips bucked against his fingers. "More," she pleaded.
He dropped a kiss to her forehead before the pressure began to mount. "That's it, let me see you." Two fingers slid into her, curling as his thumb brushed her clit. "Hermione," Draco rasped, and lowered his mouth to her.
Her legs parted further, her heels digging into the bed as she pushed herself closer to him. Moans fell away from her as her fingernails cut into his shoulders. "I want—" Her voice broke with a loud moan that caused her to collapse against the bed. "Draco, enough."
He paused, staring at her with a dark look over his face, and she pulled him closer, curling her fingers around his hip.
She thought he was going to call her impatient, that he might tease her, but Draco only released a harsh breath before crushing his lips to hers. Resting between her open thighs, and positioning himself, Draco slid into her with one thrust.
He selfishly took her bottled scream for himself, kissing her roughly before setting a pace that left her whimpering and part way to the edge of something that she already desperately wanted.
Draco stayed on his knees, lifting her legs over his shoulders, and swiping his thumbs across her nipples as she writhed under him.
His name continually left her, an eager plea that kept escaping her with each hard thrust.
"Draco," she whispered, tracing a path over his chest. "You feel so good."
Her curls—messy as they were, always were—were crushed against the pillows. Draco's fingers found her hips as he picked her up, her legs still over his shoulders.
She cried out, the position heightening every moment as his cock slid into her, deeper than it had before.
Digging her nails into his forearms, leaving what was sure to be lines over his arms the next morning, Hermione gasped, "Please," without knowing what she was begging for. "Draco, I'm—"
He nodded, a thin layer of sweat forming across his brow. "I love you like this." His tongue laved against the space between her breasts, painting each syllable into her flesh. "Flush, and pretty—"
"Draco!" Hermione's climax crested with little more than a few words, and his fingers working her as his pace slowed.
She held onto him as he seemed to toppled over just after her.
Falling to the bed side by side, Hermione took in the uneven rise and fall of his chest as she slid closer. "Worth the wait?"
He slung his arm over his eyes, and nodded. "You'll still stay the night?"
Hermione threw her leg over his waist. "After that?" She smirked, pressing her lips to his jaw.
Hermione
Two mornings later, Draco was warm behind her, his arm slung around her middle while his leg was wedged between hers. His body heat engulfed her, and while cuddling was nice, it was a bit stifling. Hermione wiggled free, pushing her hair from her face, and tying it back while she slung her legs over the side of the bed.
Their clothes were littered across the floor, and there were buttons scattered that had popped off her blouse. Drinks and dinner, they had said last night. But they had foregone dinner at her coy suggestion, and ended up in his bed.
Multiple times.
God, her thighs were deliciously sore.
Hermione stripped in his bathroom, which was only her thin tank top, and stopped under the warm stream of water. It hit the tile behind her, and she huddled to the wall as it warmed up. The glass door slid open, and Draco slipped in behind her.
Chuckling, he asked, "Couldn't wait for the water to warm up?"
Hermione nudged him toward the wall, stepping under the water. "I just wanted to take a quick shower so my hair would have time to dry."
"I do own a blow dryer."
She looked at him in horror. "No." Hermione shook her head. "No blow dryer. That's a travesty."
He snorted. "Well, I'll just stay right here and not bother you at all." That was a lie, she already knew. Draco didn't have the best record of keeping his hands to himself normally—that wasn't to say she didn't like it—and this moment was no difference.
As water ran down her body, she arched an eyebrow while he stared back at her. "What was that about keeping your hands to yourself?" Hermione grinned. She cupped her breasts, and rolled her nipples between her fingers. "Are you certain you'll be able to keep that up?"
He glared at her as his eyes darkened, and his tongue slid against the seam of his lips. "You're playing dirty, Granger."
She nodded. "Think so?" She pinched her nipple, her lips parting as a low sound left her, before sliding her palm down her belly. Dipping her finger between her legs, barely brushing her folds, Hermione dared him.
There was a tick in his jaw. "You're a menace." She was close to pushing him that last bit that would get him over the edge. In fact, all it took was a breathy moan and he slammed her to the wall.
Cool against her back, Hermione whimpered as her back met the tile. She tried to dig her fingers into his hair, tried to press her lips to his in hopes the kiss would be just as rough as his movement were, but Draco stopped her. Holding both of her wrists in one hand, Draco pinned them to the wall over her head. "Is this what you wanted?" he murmured, nipping the shell of her ear. "You're fucking insatiable, aren't you?"
Without preamble, two fingers slid into her cunt, curling at the same moment her hips bucked forward. She nodded mindlessly, pressing herself closer to him. "Yes." Hermione's sounds were muffled as she hid her face in his chest. "Oh, God—"
His thumb glided over her clit, barely touching her at all, and she was already on the edge, teetering precariously as she was about to fall apart.
"That's it," he told her. He dropped her hands, and tilted her face up, slanting his lips against hers. "Let me see you, Hermione." His lips pressed to her temple, "Just like this," down her jaw, "over my fingers," her throat. "You're so much better than I ever imagined."
Her breathing was broken and ragged, but Hermione gasped, "Imagine this a lot?"
His fingers pumped inside of her, the pressure mounting, and he hissed, "Of bloody course I did. Can't get my mind off of you even if I tried."
That was all it took.
Her nails cut into his shoulders as she clung to him, throwing her head back as she rode out her orgasm. Her legs shaking, Hermione slumped against the wall, whimpering as his fingers slid out of her. She was certain her face was red, and her eyes wide open.
"We should skip dinner." Hermione blurted.
His shoulders shook as he laughed. "As much as I'd like to spend the entire day with you in my bed," Draco began, "I think we'll just have to settle for half of the day spent in my bed."
God, she was insatiable. She never had been before, and truly Hermione absolutely blamed him for it, but she kept that information to herself.
Hermione didn't know how they ever made it out of his flat. Even as they dressed, she wanted to peel his clothes off, and she had the suspicion that it was very much the same for him. The bed was a mess, sheets tangled and twisted every which way. The pillows had been pushed off the bed the night before from her grabbing onto them while—
"We need to leave right now," Hermione said, shouldering her handbag. "Like right fucking now."
He rolled his sleeves up, looking at her curiously. "Pardon?" While Draco feigned innocence, he knew exactly what she was talking about if the smirk curving his mouth was anything to go by. "Good God, we left a dent in the wall."
Hermione peeked around him and saw an imperfection left in the wall by the bedpost. "Are you normally like this?"
He snorted. "No, are you?"
She swallowed. "Not at all." It was the truth and there was nothing wrong with being honest, was there? Still, she imagined it would be like exposing a large part of herself if she were to say that meeting him had cracked something wide open. Something—she hesitated to call it passion—that had been asleep inside her chest and he was the reason it had come alive.
But that was whimsical, nonsensical nonsense.
It was best to save that for romance novels.
"There's a love bite on your neck." He said then, reaching up to carefully pull the elastic from her hair. "Shite, this seemed like such a good idea before I tried."
She swatted his hands away, rolling her eyes. "Make sure you don't let your shirt slip. There's a bruise right here." Hermione ran her fingers across the already purpling skin. "At least I had the courtesy not to leave in on your neck."
"You weren't complaining then." He sniggered. "Just... don't move your hair out of the way, and it will be fine."
Nudging her ruined blouse with her shoe, she sighed. "I really liked this blouse, you know. Now I'll have to order another." Before he could offer to buy another, Hermione seized his hand and dragged him out the front door.
His neighbor gave them a dirty look, and while she felt smug about her own night, Hermione did feel a little guilty for the semi dark circles under his eyes.
The Burrow was nestled just outside of the city, and everyone else had already arrived by the time they did. Draco parked behind Charlie. "So," Hermione hedged nervously. "They're a lot to take in. I know you've met everyone else, but Molly and Arthur are even more tiring than their children."
He smiled. "Of course, their children had to get it from somewhere, didn't they?"
Tucking her hair behind her ears, she groaned as she tugged the strands back into place to cover her neck. "They're really excited to meet you, and I don't want it to be overwhelming is all."
"It's fine." Draco squeezed her hand. "We shouldn't keep them waiting."
Ginny stood on the porch, rocking back on her heels as she looked from Hermione to Draco. Her eyes narrowed as she folded her arms across her chest. "The two of you had sex, didn't you?"
Draco choked, and Hermione patted him on the back. "You're not joking around about this bet, are you?" Hermione accused. "They bet on when we would sleep together—all of them." She muttered to Draco.
His eyes widened. "All of them…?"
Hermione nodded.
"Yes," Ginny muttered. "Including Mum and Dad. Welcome to the Burrow, I'm sure you'll both know who won the pot by the end of dinner. If we even get that far." She stepped aside, motioning for them to enter. "Mum's gone a little overboard this time. Don't let her bother you."
For the first time, Draco's confident demeanor slipped from his face as he settled his hand at the bottom of Hermione's back.
Charlie swept her into a bone crushing hug as soon as they entered the dining room, and he didn't hesitate to pick her up off the ground. "That's a wicked love bite you've got there, love."
She slapped her hand to her throat, her cheeks heating. "You'll shut up if you know what's good for you, Charlie." Hermione smoothed her blouse, taking a look around the room. "Where's Molly?"
"Kitchen, still. I'm sure she'll be out soon. Don't you worry about that." He tapped her nose with a smug grin. "I've been waiting all week for this. It'll make for a nice practice run before I tell Mum I've met someone."
She felt Draco behind her, his hand idly fidgeting with the bottom of her blouse.
"You have?" Hermione whispered excitedly. "That's so exciting, I'm so happy for you, Charlie. Tell me about her?"
"Wel, he is a professional rugby player." He grinned as her mouth dropped open. "Oh, don't feel bad, it's not like I ever mentioned it to you. Before your overactive brain takes off, Mum is well aware of my sexuality."
Hermione was struck silent.
"Which is to rapidly swing in both directions."
She roared with laughter, and wiped her eyes. "Professional rugby player then? What's his name?"
Charlie made a motion of zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key.
"Come one, you know I can keep a secret. Tell me before Ron comes over here." Hermione poked him in the arm.
Charlie sighed dramatically, and leaned toward her and Draco. "Oliver Wood."
Air rushed from Draco's lungs hard enough for her to hear it. "You're fucking joking."
Charlie shook his head. "Nope," he replied, his lips making an obscene sounding pop.
"Ron is going to lose his mind." Hermione whispered. "Good for you, Charlie." Their small conversation was interrupted when Molly entered the room, gripping a casserole dish tightly with both hands. "If she asks me anything embarrassing, I'm putting the spotlight on you."
"You're cruel," Charlie laughed.
Of course, they both knew she would never do that.
"Hermione!" Molly cried, throwing her arms around Hermione. "It's been so long since I've seen you, dear. Sunday dinners aren't the same without you." She released Hermione, smiling to Draco. "It's nice to see you again, Dr Malfoy, and under much better circumstances as well."
When Molly hugged Draco, it was more of an awkward shuffle, but Draco gave her a tight, one-armed hug. "Call me Draco," he insisted. "You have a lovely home, Mrs Weasley."
"Molly will do. Thank you, it's much easier to keep clean now that I don't have so many children running around and causing a ruckus."
Draco sat beside Hermione, his knee bumping hers while she leaned back in her chair. Ginny hadn't been exaggerating when she mentioned Molly had gone overboard. While she always cooked more than enough food for dinner, and for everyone to take an extra plate home if they wanted, this was extreme even for Molly.
Dinner started as it normally did with everyone sharing what their week had been like, starting with Fred. "The shop is doing well." He started with a mouth full of food. "We interviewed for extra help for the holiday season, but they were all strange, career driven—"
Hermione gaped. "That is weird. I'm not sure why anyone career driven would want to work in a joke shop."
George's hand flew to his chest and he gave a comical little squeak. "Hermione, you wound us!"
"Why don't you tell us about your week, Hermione?" Fred smirked. "Or the last several since you've not graced us with your presence." If he wasn't so far away, she'd have kicked him.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, I think most of you already know how my life has been." Ron, Harry, Charlie, and possibly Ginny by extension, she supposed knew more than anyone else however. "Draco and I have been dating since June, and we're doing well."
That wasn't enough for Molly. "Now, I know how the two of you met in the coffee shop, and again during that terrible accident." Her sympathetic gaze shifted toward her youngest son. "But how did this fully come about?"
Draco's palm was warm on her knee beneath the table. "Hermione was my date for a party my mother hosted for my birthday. Originally, I didn't think she was going to say yes." He gave a small laugh.
"You never told me that." Hermione murmured.
"Could you not tell how bloody nervous I was?" Draco tore his eyes away from her and continued. "I suspect my mother was meddling all along to make it happen, considering she told me she was planning to play matchmaker with the daughter of one of her friends."
Molly laughed. "Is that so? How cute is it that your mother knew what you needed before you did."
Draco's hand slid up Hermione's thigh, and she clamped them shut before he could elicit an awkward sound from her. "I wouldn't say that she knew anything before I did; I just hadn't made a move yet."
Hermione tried to fight off her smile as everyone looked at her, but failed miserably. "That's sweet."
Molly wasn't done, however, and no one else attempted to share how their week had gone. "If you don't mind me asking, how is your son?"
He chuckled. "Scorpius is well. He frequently complains about a little girl in his class that he butts heads with. We speak on the phone every night, but I suspect he's only calling in hopes that Hermione is with me since he always asks if she's there."
If anything, Molly's eyes widened even further, and Hermione didn't want to even consider what thought the woman had now. "Is that so?"
"He's obsessed with Hermione." Draco smirked.
She'd given it thought of how it was at least the tiniest bit surprising that a child liked her so much. Having never been good with children—Victoire being a prime example of that—the fact that Scorpius liked her so much would come as a shock to her friends and family.
"We went to the movies together, and he insisted he sat between the two of us," Draco carried on.
Ron kicked her under the table, just hard enough to get her attention. There was a full-fledged grin plastered across his face.
"Oh, that's adorable!" Molly gave a little clap of her hands. "Just precious. Does Scorpius' mum mind?"
It was the question Hermione had been expecting, and dreading. She cleared her throat, opening her mouth before Draco had the chance. "Astoria and I got off on the wrong foot. I don't think either of us liked the other, and I'm sure that didn't help her accept the fact that Scorpius sees me often. I think we've patched things up nicely now."
Draco nodded. "I'll spare you the details, but our divorce wasn't an amicable one."
"I'm really sorry to hear that." Ginny said softly. "Really, I don't mean to draw attention to it, but it's wonderful that the two of you are putting your son first."
"Thank you." Draco replied.
The memory of Astoria's odd behavior during the last time she'd seen her still bothered Hermione, and as she looked at Draco, she wondered if he knew anything about it. Though Astoria had asked her not to say anything…
Over the course of an hour, they discussed their careers, their daily lives, and it went over much better than Hermione could have hoped. It wasn't that she thought the Weasleys would scare Draco, but on some level—no matter how miniscule it was—she realised that the Weasleys were much different from the Malfoys.
She'd had a niggling worry in the back of her mind that perhaps Draco just wouldn't like them, but now Hermione realised she'd been acting as if he were just like his father. Harsh and judgemental when Draco was wholly the opposite.
"Do the two of you have any plans for your birthday, 'Mione?" Harry asked around a mouthful of food.
Draco dropped his fork. "Your birthday is soon?"
Put on the spot, she couldn't think of anything to say. All she could think was: how have I never mentioned my birthday?
Harry swallowed audibly. "It's next Saturday. She didn't tell you?"
"I've been busy!" Hermione defended herself. "Look, even I forgot my birthday was next weekend."
"So you can sleep with someone, but not bother to tell him when your birthday is?" Ginny asked with a smug smirk. "Oh, shite—"
"When?" The question burst from everyone at the table.
"First of all," Hermione snapped, "it's none of your business. Second, Ginny, you fucking traitor!"
Ginny shook her head and pursed her lips. "You're the traitor. I told you when the right time was, and I would have split the winnings with you. You chose this." She sipped her water with a solid "Hmph!"
"Hermione," Ron prompted. "It's really important whether it was last night or the night before."
"Who says it was one of those nights?" Hermione ground out.
"The love bite on your—" Fred started.
"Are you seriously analyzing my love bite?" Hermione asked.
Fred bobbed his head. "I'm rather good with them, you see. Just like I can tell a woman's breast size just by touching them—"
"Does that really work?" Ron asked, astonished. "Like they let you—"
"Frederick Weasley!" Molly interjected.
Draco was giggling at her side, his cheeks pink as he leaned over the table. "This is much better than any dinner I've ever had with my family."
"Last night, or the night before?" Ron pressed eagerly, holding up both hands with his fingers crossed.
"None of you—" Hermione began.
"Both." Draco answered smugly.
She glared at him.
Ron sighed heavily. "That's bollocks. You couldn't have waited until last night?'
She was going to throttle him.
"Well," Molly mused, standing from her chair. "A mother always knows things, dears. I must call Narcissa at once to let her know we were right."
Draco's mouth fell open. "My mother—"
Molly grinned. "We exchanged mobile numbers at the hospital. It wasn't only your mother's meddling involved during your birthday." She left the room with an ecstatic laugh.
They stared at each other in disbelief. "So, they've been friends for months then." Hermione giggled. "That's nice, isn't it?"
Ron stood, pushing away from the table. "Drinks?"
"The Leaky?" Harry asked.
Everyone collectively agreed.
Hermione's birthday started with flowers, and not the sort that came from a rushed, last minute, shite-I-fucking-forgot trip to a cheap flower shop. From the second she'd cracked one eye open, there was an email on her phone from Padma stating that there was a crisis with the most recent article she'd submitted.
So, technically, Hermione's birthday started with her rushing out of her flat, and racing to the office. There was no crisis, but there was a large cake with her name spelled correctly for once, and all of her co-workers singing to her.
But she liked to mark the second where the flower shop boy walked through the doors with a large bouquet of roses as the start of her birthday. WIth a bouquet so large that his face wasn't visible, only his disheveled hair, Hermione took them eagerly, and held them in one arm while she signed for the delivery. Inside the small envelope, there was a card that Hermione would have recognised anywhere. In neat, looping script, she read:
I'll be picking you up at noon.
Draco
Draco
He'd done this several times over his life, and dates weren't the sort of thing to make him quite so nervous anymore.
However, everything about Hermione Granger made him feel wildly off kilter.
Climbing the stairs to her flat, Draco tugged at the edge of his collar so many times he lost count as he stood at her door.
It swung open, no creak audible in the hinges unlike her old flat, and she was grinning ear to ear. "You know, you're supposed to knock on the door," Hermuone murmured, stepping out onto her stoop, still barefoot, and threw her arms around his neck. "You're early. I thought I had more time to get ready." Her lips skimmed the skin where his collar rested, and she adjusted it when she noticed it was askew.
"Take as long as you like," Draco's hand rested at the bottom of her back as they stepped inside. "I'm just early. Though... If you wouldn't mind, Scorpius would like to tell you happy birthday before we leave."
Hermione nodded, curls dropping into her face even as she pushed them back. "Of course. Just give me ten minutes. I was almost finished anyway."
He waited on the sofa, his knee bumping against the coffee table. Her flat was in its constant state of mild disarray. Everything had a place, she told him, and for the most part, it was tidy. Except when it came to books, loose papers with ideas scribbled across them, and anything that involves writing at all.
As if to prove a point, Draco's eyes fell on a pen that was sticking halfway out from under the end table.
Hermione only took five minutes, and appeared with a small handbag in her hand. "Ready?" She asked. Pushing a piece of hair from her face, he took a long moment to run his eyes up and down her body, twice. "Shall I turn around for you to stare at my arse too?" Hermione teased, taking another step toward him.
The corner of his mouth lifted. "It surely wouldn't go amiss."
Rolling her eyes as she adjusted her blouse, Hermione did just that, and glanced over her shoulder at him. "Well?"
Draco rose from his seat, and stepped just behind her where his breath rolled down her neck. Delighted in the way she shivered, the way she leaned back into him, her hands searching for purchase as she reached back for him, he pressed his lips to her throat. Pushing her hair to the side, and gripping her hips, he nuzzled the soft skin there. "You look as enticing as ever."
"Enticing?" Her breathing was ragged, and she leaned against him. "Pretty words."
His hands slid up her sides, fingers grazing the sides of her breasts. "We're likely to be late," Draco mused, pressing another kiss to her throat. His hands slid back down teasingly, tracing a path between the hem of her blouse and the waist of her jeans. "We should go."
Hermione shook her head, and he knew without looking that her lower lip was trapped prettily between her teeth. "Or," she hedged.
A shrill ring that came from his mobile suddenly had her springing away from him, and her cheeks were flushed a deep red. Draco fumbled as he pulled it from his pocket, and it was hard to frown as he recognised the incoming call. "It's Scorpius. If we don't answer, he'll call over and over again."
She stifled a laugh, and stretched her hand out, plucking his mobile from his hands. "It'd be impolite to make him wait." Hermione sat on the edge of the couch, smoothing her hair down.
"I'm not," Draco began as he sat beside her, massaging her shoulder before tracing the divuts of her spine, "polite." He swallowed. "At least not when it comes to the times I can—"
Scorpius' face filled the screen as she held a finger up, effectively shushing him. "'Mione!" Scorpius cried, and they watched him tilt the camera toward him as he propped it against something. He scooted down onto his belly and rested his face in his hands. "Happy birthday!"
Grinning, Hermione thanked him. "What are you doing today?"
He reached out, sliding out of the frame, and the crinkling of paper filled the air as he shuffled. "I made you this." Scorpius said, holding a piece of paper to the camera. "Can you see it?"
Hermione's grin stretched across her face, and her fingers tapped absently against her knee. "Can you pull back a bit? You're too close." Crossing her arms across her lap, Hermione leaned close in order to read the messy handwriting. "Happy birthday, Hermione." She read. "Thank you."
Draco fidgeted with the fabric at her waist.
"Your handwriting is so good." Hermione praised, and his son ripped the card down, revealing his smile. "Did you do that all on your own?"
"Mummy helped me." He replied cheekily. "Dad said I couldn't see you today."
Hermione's head whipped toward him, an accusation no doubt already forming on her lips. "Oh? Well, I think we have plans, but I'm sure I'll see you very soon."
Scorpius bobbed his head, but his smile slipped from his face as the camera was pulled off of him. "Muuum!"
"It'll be just a moment." Astoria's voice was soft as the camera focused on her, and there was not a single strand of hair out of place. That was what Hermione would have expected when it came to Astoria, Draco thought, but the deep circles beneath her eyes weren't.
Did Hermione notice?
And her collarbones were sunken in, though she did her best to hide it as she pulled a shawl tightly around her. "Hermione," she greeted. It wasn't a stiff greeting, but it couldn't be considered a warm greeting either. "Happy birthday. I trust it's off to a good start?"
"So far," Hermione nodded. "Thank you."
Astoria smiled, thought it was little more than her lips pressed together as if she were trapping an insult behind her teeth. "Draco? I apologise to bring it up today. I'm sure you're both busy, but if it's alright with you, might I drop Scorpius off this weekend? I'll be in London for a doctor's appointment—just routine checks, and my doctor has retired—and it would be no trouble."
"Which day? I'll be working all day through the weekend…" He trailed off. Fuck, he'd switched shifts with another surgeon in order to have today with Hermione.
Warmth seeped through his trousers as Hermione laid her hand on his knee. "I could meet with you, if that's alright? I don't mean to intrude, but if I can be helpful in anyway."
Astoria nodded. "I would be so appreciative if you could."
Something had shifted, Draco thought. Before he could voice the thought, he spoke, "You should take my car so you won't need to worry about the carseat," he murmured.
"That's settled then." Astoria said with false cheeriness. "I'll let you get back to Scorpius now."
Later, when Hermione chased her food around a plate in a restaurant, Draco thought to ask. "You and Astoria are getting along nicely."
She paused before nodding. "Do you think so?"
"Well," he began, "she didn't give you a backhanded insult about your age while wishing you a happy birthday."
She dabbed her mouth while looking over his shoulder. "Astoria was rather polite to me during the—"
He held up a hand. "I know, you told me. What I mean to ask," Draco paused with a wince. It hadn't been his intention so sound so accusing, but it had crept into his tone anyway. "Is there any reason for it?"
Hermione folded her hands in her lap, and his stomach twisted. Clearly, he hadn't been imagining anything. "She asked me not to mention it, but I have my own suspicions for the reasons. Originally, I believed it was because she was worried she might seem...unstable?" She shifted in her seat. "That's not the right word, but it doesn't matter."
Draco stared at her, his eyes sharpening as she made eye contact.
"While you were in the other room with Scorpius, Astoria told me all of the books he liked for bedtime. She told me about how he would never eat onions if he learned you didn't like them, and I don't know—" She shook her head and sighed. "It came off as odd to me since we had only recently begun dating, and I didn't fancy myself as a permanent fixture of your life, or your son's by extension."
Dread coiled in his stomach. "Hermione?"
"Theo's helping her." Hermione said flatly. "I'm not convinced that it's because they had an affair, Draco. That's none of my business, but you told me that she said that. She looked frail on the call earlier, weaker than I think she'd want anyone to see her that way."
Hermione wasn't wrong. He could recall several mornings of morning sickness with Scorpius while everyone they knew had asked how Astoria made pregnancy look so easy.
"She says she has an appointment this weekend." Hermione's shoulders fell. "London is a long drive, Draco. I seriously doubt she's driving here because her former physician has retired."
He nodded, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table. "You're right. I assumed as much myself. While you were in the loo, I might have called her doctor."
Her lips parted.
"Before you tell me it's a violation of privacy, I don't care about that. I'm worried."
Hermione was sympathetic toward that. "What did you learn?"
"It's your birthday—"
She rolled her eyes. "Tell me what he said, or you'll be wearing curry as a hat."
He snorted. "He's not retired, so I called my mother, and learned she's been referred to another physician in London. There's no reason for her to ever learn that you broke her confidence."
"I'm so sorry. It wasn't my intention to lie, but up until I saw her tonight, I thought it was her general dislike of me being around her son."
Draco swallowed hard, electing to omit a bit of the truth. He had an inclination of what exactly was the problem. Given a family history of medical problems that he was more than aware of, Astoria's sudden secrecy threatened that a darker time was on the cusp. "I'm sure it's nothing." He lied easily, too easily. It pained him to sit across from her, as important as she was to him, and lie through his teeth.
What was he to say, that Astoria could very well not get better at all? That she had been attempting to groom Hermione to be Scorpius' mother if she was gone?
He couldn't tell her that. It was simply unfair to put that sort of pressure on a woman he'd known less than a year.
Yet here he was, certain he was sitting with the love of his life.
If you think this feels like a cliff hanger, it was never planned to seem that way considering this is a plot element to be resolved over time.
I wanted to say that I struggled with this chapter, and originally I told close friends that I was worried to be publishing new content when it came so easily when I was having a hard time writing this. I'm sorry for the long wait, and I can't promise there's going to be another update in October. November is very busy for me, and I can't even promise an update then, though I'll do my best between work and the nano challenge.
All I want to say now is that I'm appreciative of you still following. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. If you'd like to interact with me on tumblr, as anon asks or signed in, I'm at mrsren96.