A/N: As promised, here's your weekly update.
We're delving a little deeper into what happened. Things will slowly start to unfold in the present. In the past, too, as these two get to know each other and spend more time together
Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Songs to listen to:
Ella Henderson – Sorry that I miss you (present)
also…Ella Henderson ft. Tom Grennan – Let's go home together (past)
David Gray – This year's love (past)
Chapter 5:
September 2005:
Hermione carefully navigated her way through the Forbidden Forest on a path she was all too familiar with by now, trying to process her feelings about what she'd been forced to witness this morning at breakfast.
The way Malfoy had offered to show Lisa the River of Light had made her feel defensive and angry. It hurt to think of him defiling 'their place' by bringing Lisa here for a meaningless shag.
After all, this had been the place where she had lost her virginity to him. To this day, she still remembered every detail as if it had happened yesterday. The way Malfoy had looked at her, those grey eyes so tender and expressive. The way he'd touched her—almost with reverence—and the way it had felt when he pushed inside of her for the first time.
The first time they'd made love had been very special for her and even though what they'd shared here was in the past and probably no longer mattered to him, she simply couldn't deal with him sharing the River of Light with anyone but her. It would diminish the memories they'd made together; all the time they'd spent out here. Then it wouldn't be theirs anymore. It would belong to all of the other witches he's been with since their divorce.
It was quiet out in the forest, the river just as luminous and alluring as it had been when she'd first seen it. The bushes and plants had grown much larger since, but it was even more beautiful than she remembered. The air was thick with magic here, and the memories clung to every part of this place, almost tangible.
For some reason, coming back here was painful and cathartic at the same time. She'd missed this place terribly.
Hermione lowered herself to the forest floor to lie down on the grass between the hundreds of wildflowers scattered all across the clearing, staring up at the dark canopy above her, wondering if Malfoy would try and torture her this way forever. Was he going to use his conquests to get back at her for hurting him? Punish her for bruising his ego when she left him. Perhaps she should have let him push her away. That might have been easier for him to digest because now that she was back, he was going to make her pay and she wasn't sure she was up for that every other day. She just wanted peace. She wanted to be happy again. But she'd be lying if she said it wouldn't have pleased her immensely to interrupt Malfoy and Lisa's night, had she come across them here tonight.
"Please tell me I'm hallucinating?" Malfoy startled her with his sudden appearance.
It wasn't as much because she didn't expect him to show up or already be here, she'd just forgotten how stealthily he could move.
She pushed up from her soft bed in the thick grass, dusted herself off and gave the blue waters of the river a longing look before turning to him. "Where's Lisa?"
He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. "Hiding in the bushes. She was worried you might murder her if you found her here."
Hermione tried her best to suppress her amusement, but a huff of laughter slipped out. "There's a distinct possibility that I might."
Malfoy's hostility slipped for a split second, and she swore she saw the corner of his mouth kick up into a smile before he hid it behind that indomitable mask of his.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling a little embarrassed for getting caught in their spot, alone, on a night when he may or may not have brought Lisa along for a romantic date. Or a casual shag. "I needed to clear my head, and it's been years since I've been here."
Malfoy continued to scowl, refusing to acknowledge her apology. He wasn't happy with her being here. Perhaps Lisa was hiding out in the bushes.
"Did you really bring her here tonight?" Hermione lifted onto her toes to peer over Malfoy's shoulder, trying to see if there was anyone else here with him.
He released a heavy breath and raked a hand through his hair. "I didn't have the heart to bring her here. As you said, this place is special."
Hermione's stomach swooped with relief. Maybe he wasn't in love with Lisa, after all. The possibility made her shoulders sag with relief. And perhaps it was childish and selfish of her to be so happy about it, but it meant this place was still just theirs. A place with memories of all the good times they had shared as a couple.
She approached Malfoy cautiously and it was only now, as she came closer, that she noticed a hickey on the edge of his jaw, hidden behind a whisper of stubble. It looked fresh; hadn't been there this morning. Perhaps he'd already screwed Lisa. It certainly wouldn't surprise her; they'd been all over each other this morning.
Malfoy tracked her movements with flinty grey eyes, so cold that it made her shiver with apprehension. He needed her to leave; she could see that much. But it appeared that he was as attached to this place as she was, and that was something she could accept; appreciate even. She didn't want to intrude, since he'd clearly come here to be alone.
"I'll leave you to yourself then," she said and stepped around him where he stood rooted to the spot, shoulders stiff. "See you around, Malfoy."
The leaves and twigs snapped and popped loudly underfoot in the quiet of the night as she walked away from him, suddenly feeling bone-weary. Why was it so gut-wrenching being here with him again?
Remembering what they'd shared and how abruptly it had come to an end still had her feeling something akin to whiplash. She'd lost so much when she walked away from him, and she wondered what would have happened if she'd been selfish enough to stay and force Malfoy to work out their problems. Had there even been problems, or was it all just a product of Lucius Malfoy's meddling? Because despite the increasing amount of time Malfoy had spent alone with Astoria when Hermione had moved into the Manor with him, they'd mostly been happy. Or at least she'd thought so. She'd still loved him very much even when she'd doubted his fidelity, and he'd been nothing but affectionate when they had a few minutes alone during the day. Or when he'd crawled into bed late every night to make love to her for hours—their passion and chemistry as irrefutable as ever. And then it had all crashed down around her in the blink of an eye when she'd been blackmailed into leaving with everything she had in her possession, not even saying goodbye to Malfoy after her disturbing conversation with Lucius.
The only correspondence between them in the following weeks had been the back-and-forth owls to amend and sign their divorce contract. There hadn't been a single personal missive included with the thick, expensive parchment that had announced the termination of their marriage. Malfoy never tried to get her back; never tried to fight for her, and that had been the final nail in the coffin. Lucius had been right when he'd said his son didn't want her anymore.
"I just need you to know," Hermione stopped suddenly and looked over her shoulder at him. There was one thing she had to get off her chest once and for all before she didn't get an opportunity again. "The only reason I left was that I loved you enough to let you go. I loved you so fucking much that I just wanted you to be happy."
Malfoy scoffed, and his expression darkened. "Right. Because that makes so much sense."
"I just-"
"Do you even hear yourself right now?" He snapped.
Her mouth popped open in shock. How could he not have known how desperately, pathetically in love she'd been with him? Moreover, she should have known that the intensity of her feelings for him could only spell disaster. It wasn't normal to love another human being so much.
"You're full of shit, Hermione. And you're a terrible liar." He shook his head in disgust. "You want me to believe that you loved me 'so much' that you left without a goodbye? That you loved me 'so much' that you ignored me for five fucking years? Pathetic!" He spat the last word as if it tasted bitter on his tongue.
"Don't you dare stand there and judge me! You have no fucking clue how much it hurt to walk away when all I wanted to do was get on my knees and beg you to love me back. To look past my blood status. I would have forgiven you for what you did, just so we could try and work things out. That's how much I loved you. So, yes, maybe that makes me pathetic. Weak, too. But even if I wanted to stay, I had no choice in the matter." And then she realized her mistake…
He would certainly want more answers than just her cryptic declaration. She should just have kept her stupid mouth shut, because how could she ever tell him about her arrangement with his father?
She turned back around and rapidly started to walk away before he could start asking questions.
It took five agonizing beats of her heart before he responded. "Granger, wait…" He called after her, but she didn't stop. Knew she couldn't.
She had to get away before he decided to follow and press her for answers she promised she'd never give.
In her hurry to get away from Malfoy, she almost lost her footing on the uneven path. She pulled out her wand to cast a Lumos so she could find her way out of the forest as the blue light of the river faded rapidly behind her, and increased her pace.
"Granger!" He called out again, louder this time.
She could hear the tell-tale sounds of his footfalls as he rushed to catch up to her, and it made adrenaline spike in her veins. Blood roared in her ears as her heart pounded like a jackhammer against her chest, the mere idea that he might catch her causing a dizzying fight or flight response. She couldn't allow him to stop her. Couldn't give him the opportunity to demand answers. So, she did the only thing she could think of: She started running.
She clumsily stumbled her way through the thick underbrush, ducked under skeletal branches, and jumped over fallen logs, but the speed with which she ran made it difficult to see. Branches scratched her face and caught in her hair. She tripped and fell a few times, hard enough that she knew her knees would be raw under her denims, but she valiantly pushed herself back up each time, unwilling to let him catch up to her.
By the time she'd gotten far enough that she'd lost all the light from the river, her lungs were burning, and there was a stitch in her side. Her breath came fast and loud in her ears as she navigated her way out of the forest, but she didn't dare look back to see if he was still following her. All she could do was pray that he'd give up. That he'd decide she wasn't worth the chase.
But when Malfoy's warm hand curled around her arm to pull her to a stop, she yelped in surprise. He was so much faster than she remembered.
"Why are you running away?" He demanded from her, barely out of breath. His eyes did a quick circuit of her face before his scowl softened to a frown. "You can't just say things like that and then run away without an explanation."
Yes, she knew he'd never just let it go. "I've already said too much," she shook her head and doubled over to rest her hands on her knees, panting unattractively while she sucked in as much air as she could get. She blinked the sudden, traitorous tears away as they welled up in her eyes, unwilling to let him see her break. And then she looked up at him, imploring him silently to just let her leave. To drop all of this.
She should have known better.
"No," He shook his head, unwilling to accept her poor attempt at skirting the issue. "You barely said anything. You just dropped this massive bombshell and now you refuse to elaborate. And I want answers."
"Then why don't you ask your father?" She snapped at him, a sudden rage bubbling to the surface. "Ask him why I left."
"Don't play games with me, Granger." He growled dangerously, hand tightening painfully around her wrist. "I asked you."
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that you don't know why I left? At least part of the reason why?"
"What the fuck are you talking about? What reasons?" He looked genuinely confused.
And now she was confused too. He had to know some of it, didn't he? "You were unhappy? You felt trapped in a marriage that happened in the spur of the moment?" She prompted, hoping it would click for him. When he continued to stare at her, nonplussed, she huffed in frustration. "Your father told me, Malfoy. He told me all of it. How you felt that you'd made a mistake marrying me and how you wanted to stick to tradition and marry a pure-blood. That you wouldn't want our half-blood baby." She was just rambling now, listing all the things Lucius Malfoy had told her in his study the day she left. "Your indiscretions with Astoria Greengrass. The blackmail money to make sure I kept my mouth shut. The alimony. All to make sure I was taken care of while I had to raise our baby on my own. And," she paused, "The incident with Looksy." She swallowed thickly, finding the last part more difficult than the rest. The biggest reason for her nightmares over the last five years.
Draco paled considerably, posture stiff and unyielding.
And now she'd truly said too much. But she was just so fucking tired of keeping it all inside. She was tired of the truth festering inside her and poisoning her.
"What baby?" He enunciated each word in a slow, deadly growl. His jaw was clenched so tightly she feared his teeth might crack.
Hermione took a cautious step back, suddenly very afraid of his inevitable reaction. Of all the things she'd just said, Draco chose to focus on their baby.
Hermione shook her head as the first tear fell, gasping into her hands. He seemed livid about this. Lucius Malfoy had lied to her. Possibly to Draco too. He'd sabotaged the hell out of their marriage to suit his needs. And why was she even surprised? She knew Lucius Malfoy hated her with every fibre of his being, because of her blood. She knew he was pure evil. And she knew he'd never accept her as Draco's wife.
**FLASHBACK**
March 1999:
Hermione was lying with her head in Draco's lap, looking up at the high beams of the ceiling in the Room of Requirement while he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. The fire was crackling, casting a warm glow over them while they took turns asking each other things they didn't know about the other. Things they were curious about, some questions more personal than others.
Draco had shown up at her door to take her on a late-night date—something of a habit for them, in an attempt to keep their outings private—proudly announcing that he was going to take her out on his broom.
If she'd had a choice, flying would not even have made the list of things she'd wanted to do.
But he'd been so careful with her, so mindful after she'd disclosed her fear of flying to him.
She'd shrieked and curled her arms around his hard body when he kicked off from the ground to launch them into the air, clinging to him like a limpet. But flying had its benefits, and getting to touch him for a whole hour had been one of them.
True to his word, Draco had taken it slow. He'd flown them over the Forbidden Forest, around the turrets of the highest towers the castle sported, and over the Black Lake, all at a leisurely speed that had Hermione relaxing into him about ten minutes into the flight. It was sort of…nice…getting to see the gorgeous view of the school from that high up.
Draco hadn't pulled a single dangerous stunt to show off, always completely in control of his broom. He flew with such precision and focus that he made it easy for her to trust that he wouldn't put her in danger. And he was so bloody sexy on a broom that maybe she would even allow him to take her out flying again.
They were practically frozen stiff when they'd climbed from his broom an hour later and opted to head for warmth instead of staying out to watch the stars. Which was how they'd ended up in the room of requirement—her brilliant idea, of course—which incidentally afforded them all the privacy they needed.
"Favourite colour?" He asked, thumb stroking her neck as his hands started to wander.
"Mmm," She shivered, goosebumps rippling across her skin in waves. His touch was addictive. "Green."
"Like Slytherin green or lime green?"
"Closer to Slytherin green, I guess. Maybe a little brighter. Shamrock."
"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you've become partial to Slytherins recently, would it? Perhaps one Slytherin in particular?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Draco." She slapped his thigh playfully. "I'd never be partial to any Slytherin. You're all too temperamental and broody."
"I beg your pardon?" He scoffed indignantly. "We aren't temperamental. We just don't go about wearing our hearts on our sleeves like some." He poked her in the ribs. "And we're not broody either. We're contemplative."
"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes. "You're all prone to bouts of histrionics and self-pity."
"Okay," he chuckled. "We're digressing here. Let's stay on topic if you don't mind. You haven't even asked me what my favourite colour is."
"It's because I know the answer already."
"Oh?"
"Green, of course." She said confidently, tipping her head back to look up at him.
Draco smirked and shook his head.
"Black, then?" She tried the only other colour that it could possibly be. He was rather partial to wearing black.
"Nope." He looked supremely smug that she couldn't guess his favourite colour. And frankly, she was surprised to find she didn't know.
"Hufflepuff yellow, then," she grinned, toying with him now. "Final answer."
"Now I know you're just taking the piss," he chuckled. "But since you're having such a hard time guessing correctly, let me help you out. It's blue."
"Ah..." She agreed with a patronizing nod, "That would have been my next guess. Baby blue, right?"
"Sure, Granger. My favourite colour is baby blue. Very masculine."
Hermione sat up, turning to face him to see his reaction to her next question. "Okay, now it's my turn." She dived right in. "Who was your first kiss? And, let's make this a two-part question. Best kiss?"
"I'll concede to a two-parter, as long as I get to do the same with my next question."
"Fair enough," she agreed with a nod. "Now, answer the question."
"My first kiss was with Pansy."
Hermione grimaced, not sure why she was surprised, nor liking that he knew Pansy on any kind of intimate level. It caused a stir of jealousy inside of her.
"We were at one of these terribly boring parties that our parents used to host every month," he explained. "The usual gang of pure-blood children was all there: Theo, Greg, Vince, Pansy, Astoria - well, you get the idea. And we were playing spin the vial. The rest you can guess."
"Was it any good?"
"Gods, no!" He insisted. "We were barely fourteen at the time and were all still shit at kissing. Besides, Pansy and I have always had a familial type of relationship, and kissing her, even that one time, had felt incestuous. So, anyway. Best kiss..." He brought them back on topic, pretending to think.
"Can't have been all that great if you have to think about it for so long?"
"It was in Slughorn's office." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "In the musty backroom, with some know-it-all swot I'd recently gotten to know better."
Jealousy ignited deep in her belly at the realization that he'd done the same thing to another girl in the same spot where Draco and she had shared their first proper kiss. "So," she snapped, unable to control her reaction. "Is that your usual approach then? You snog all of your conquests in the same spots. Me included?"
"You know, Granger," he smirked devilishly. "You're probably the dumbest smart person I know. I was talking about you, you daft witch. And incidentally, I never snog the witches I fuck. Kissing makes things way too intimate. Gives them the wrong impression of what I want from them."
"Oh. But I…" She was completely derailed by his admission. "But then how many witches have you actually kissed?"
"I've kissed a fair few before I realized that it was just complicating things."
"So how can I be your best kiss? I'm not even that experienced."
"Were you not there when it happened? Was I the only one who thought it was a pretty spectacular kiss?" He tipped his head to the side and cocked a brow.
"It was rather mind-blowing, wasn't it?" She agreed with a blush.
"Indeed." He winked at her.
"I must admit to feeling extremely smug right about now, seeing as I've been deemed worthy enough to be kissed by Draco Malfoy, while also taking first place as his best kiss. This from a man notorious for having been around the block quite a few times."
"Hey, now. Don't be ungrateful. My debauchery has helped refine my technique more than you'll ever know. I was a shit kisser at first."
"Right," She gave him a patronizing nod of her head. "The means justify the ends. Is that it?"
"Tell me, Granger. When a company has to choose between two people to hire, who do they usually employ? The one with experience, or someone fresh out of Hogwarts?"
"Fair enough." She conceded with a shrug.
"Okay, so now that we've established who your best kiss was," Draco continued with their game, "Who was the lucky prat to give Hermione Granger her first kiss?"
She rolled her eyes at his cocky confidence. "You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you? What if I said Ron was my best kiss?"
"Impossible." He shook his head with certainty. "Weaselbee is all arses and elbows. There's no way he's a good kisser."
Hermione conceded with a hum. Ron was a rather awkward kisser.
"Will you stop stalling?" Draco prompted.
"Fine." She huffed. "My first kiss was Victor Krum."
"Hmm," he seemed to contemplate this snippet of information, looking suddenly much less confident. "So? Was the brilliant Quidditch star a good kisser, then?"
"Merlin, no," she shuddered, remembering Victor's slobbery attempts. "He was quite terrible, actually."
Elated and grinning again, Draco straightened up. "Who would have thought?"
"I know." She agreed. "I'd assumed with his fame he'd have gained some skill in the kissing department. Turns out, fame isn't everything…"
"So, then...first place goes to…" Malfoy cupped his ear and leaned closer.
"Oh, get over yourself." She rolled her eyes at his smugness. "How could you not come in first place with all that experience..."
"Still," he smirked, all trace of diffidence gone. "A win is a win."
"Slytherin." She accused playfully.
"Okay...now for the big one." He cleared his throat dramatically and slapped his hands against his thighs, mimicking a drumroll. "First shag? Best shag?"
"Why don't you go first?" She asked, feeling completely out of her depth. She's never had sex before, and navigating this question required some courage. She needed to scrape some together before she told him about her inexperience.
"That's not fair," he pouted. "I answered your question first."
"Please?" She pouted right back at him, following it up with her best puppy-dog eyes. "For me?"
He huffed an exasperated laugh and rolled his eyes. "My Slytherin-ness is starting to rub off on you and I don't know how I feel about it."
"You should be proud."
"Oh, alright," he relented. "I lost my virginity in our fourth year to a French witch named Camille. It was during the Triwizard Tournament."
"Wow..." she blinked in surprise. "That's quite a bit younger than I expected."
"It wasn't a very good start, I'll admit. It didn't last very long either," he admitted sheepishly.
She giggled. "A bit overexcited, were we?"
"You could say that…" And he blushed. "At least I managed to get inside her before I…lost the plot. And I got to redeem myself a few years later."
"And your best shag?" She moved on, taking pity on him. But she had to admit that she was afraid to hear his answer. She was worried that she'd never measure up to his previous lovers, never mind his best shag.
"Katie Bell," he admitted awkwardly. "And yes, before you say anything, I know how ironic that is. Especially after what I did to her in my sixth year. But we ran into each other last year at the Three Broomsticks and started talking. I apologized. She slapped me, yelled at me for a bit, and then she kissed me. And, well, I suppose you can fill in the blanks."
"Yep," she nodded, feeling strangely unsettled finding out that Katie had been his best. But at least it was clear that house rivalries and blood status didn't factor into it. "No need for details, thanks. I've been privy to enough of your sex life to last a lifetime."
"Are you jealous, Hermione?"
"Nope," she lied. Maybe she was a little jealous, but she'd never admit it to him. She knew she had to temper her reactions if she wanted to pursue whatever this thing was between Draco and her. She'd been very aware of his reputation and past when she'd allowed things to progress beyond friendship with him. "Just processing."
He watched her intently for a long moment, almost as if trying to gauge her reaction to the news. But he didn't probe any further. Instead, he said, "Your turn. Who was your first and best shag?"
She pushed aside her jealousy and discomfort and cleared her throat. "So, since we haven't shagged yet, you don't get to pout when you find out it's not you. You do realize that, don't you?"
"True," he conceded, "But it's only a technicality. Once we've shagged, I'll knock the current winner out of first place."
"Your modesty is astounding." She cocked a brow at him in exasperation.
"Stop stalling. Merlin, you sure know how to get off-topic."
"Okay, fine. But this is an easy one. First place and first time remain the same answer." She wondered what his reaction would be. He couldn't honestly have ruled out the possibility that she might still be a virgin, could he? And what if her answer scared him off?
"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've only had one lover?"
"I haven't had any, actually."
"None?" He looked genuinely surprised by this, but there wasn't even a hint of panic in his eyes. It made her relax. "But Krum and Weaselbee? You mean neither of them has gotten into your knickers?"
"Nope." She waited, knowing his response should be good, the arrogant bastard that he was. Or, there was a real possibility that he'd tease her about it.
"But you have done other stuff, besides kissing?" He asked cautiously.
She shook her head. "No. Only kissed before."
"You're joking, right?" He gaped. "How?"
"I've been busy, okay?" She said defensively. "Between schoolwork and helping Harry defeat Voldemort, there wasn't exactly a lot of time left over for extra-curricular activities."
"You mean, besides knitting hats for house elves?"
"Excuse me," she huffed indignantly. "That was for a good cause."
"I'm just joking, Hermione." He smirked.
It was fascinating to see his surprise morph into excitement and determination. His grey eyes sparkled dangerously, and she swallowed her nerves, keeping eye contact with him.
"So," he said eventually. "I'd get to be your first and your best. What an honour."
And there it was. Arrogant and self-assured. Smug.
"You can't honestly be that confident in your sexual prowess, can you?"
Draco's smug expression intensified.
Oh boy...this didn't bode well for her.
But instead of saying anything, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap, lowering his head to kiss her soundly.
Hermione sighed in delight and parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss she'd been hungry for since earlier tonight when she'd opened her door when he'd come to collect her for their date. She'd found him leaning confidently against the wall next to the door, arms folded across his broad chest, and one leg pulled up with his foot propped against the wall...sexy as sin.
Draco groaned into her mouth, fisted his hands in her curls and slipped his tongue inside to tangle with hers.
And she was done for...
Things quickly turned heated when she slipped her hands beneath his shirt to touch as much of his fiery skin as she could get her hands on.
His breath hitched on a sharp exhale as her hips thrust forward to grind against the hard ridge of his cock, seeking out friction for this throbbing ache inside of her. And gods, how she wished he'd choose tonight to undress her and make love to her.
Draco broke the kiss with a strangled groan and a heaving chest, lifted her from his lap and deposited her next to him. He blew out a slow breath, clearly struggling with something. "As much as I want to have sex with you right now, I'm not going to rush things, Granger." He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I'm pretty sure we're not there yet. But when we do eventually have sex, and it blows your mind like you know it will-"
She raised a challenging brow at him.
"It will." He assured her. "And when that moment comes, I want you to tell me I was right. And I want you to tell me that my abilities are second to none."
"How would I even know if you're as good as you claim to be? When I have nothing to compare it to?"
"Oh, you'll know," he promised with a cocksure smirk, leaning in to kiss her slow and deep. Their lips parted again, tongues caressing languidly, making her pulse gain momentum.
She was constantly overstrung when in his presence, her poor heart working overtime whenever he kissed her or touched her, and she desperately needed him to make it more manageable for her. Perhaps it would all mellow out as soon as they had sex. Maybe this was all down to anticipation, and once she'd had a taste of him, she'd be able to move on.
A voice in the back of her head whispered that it wouldn't be as simple…
Nothing about her feelings for Draco was simple.
The compulsion to get as close to him as possible increased by the second, throbbing between her legs with every swipe of their tongues and every pull of his lips on hers while he worked her higher and higher into a frenzy of lust. She couldn't get enough of him. Kissing him wasn't nearly enough anymore. She needed everything or she'd implode.
He pulled his mouth away slowly with a quiet smack as their lips clung for a second, and she wanted to groan at the loss of his mouth on hers. "You'll know I'm the best you'll ever have when your toes curl with pleasure," he murmured, warm breath puffing from between his lips to mix with hers. "You'll know it when your fingers clench and your eyes roll back. When you cry out in ecstasy, unable to keep quiet." He pressed his lips against her jaw, slowly moving down to her neck to suck a bruise against her skin, and one of his hands slipped to her hip to grip her flesh almost painfully.
"Oh, Merlin!" She cried loudly, her head tipping back. He was teasing her and it felt so, so good.
Draco's hand travelled up to her breast, giving a firm squeeze before making a u-turn toward her stomach, heading lower. His fingers dragged lecherously over her thighs and slipped between her legs to stop at her throbbing clit, and then he tapped two fingers over the ache, right where she burned for him.
Her hips jumped at the contact, arching into his hand. Her answering keen was loud and desperate as it bounced off the walls, and she thanked her lucky stars that no one could hear them from outside the Room of Requirement.
His fingers disappeared suddenly and she groaned her protest, flushing at her brazenness. He was turning her into a real hussy, and she didn't even mind all that much. Her focus was singular—she needed him inside of her, right now.
"You'll know..." His fingers appeared at her waistband this time, surprising her.
She gasped when his hand dipped into her knickers and slipped between her legs, and when he swirled his fingers between her slick lips, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth popped open, the feeling indescribable. But the moment he dipped a finger inside of her, there was a slight pinch, and then a glorious fullness. She was in so much trouble because if his finger felt this good, she couldn't even begin to imagine the pleasure of having his cock slip inside to stretch her to her limits.
Draco's fingers pumped slowly in and out of her a few times, and even the wet sounds her body made around his fingers weren't enough to embarrass her. She wasn't even sure if she was supposed to be this slick, but as long as he kept going, she didn't give a damn.
"…when you clench around my cock and orgasm so hard that you fear you might shatter into millions of pieces." And then his hand stopped moving, and he slipped his fingers out of her.
"Please, Draco. No!" She begged and her eyes snagged on the red tinge to his glistening fingers—evidence that she was no longer intact—keenly grieving the feeling of fullness from seconds ago. She needed him to put his hand right back between her legs this instant, so she could feel what it was like to shatter, just like he'd described it. "Please don't stop. Show me how good it feels to have an orgasm."
Draco chuckled softly into her ear and pressed a kiss to her temple before whispering," Not yet, babe. We're going to take it slow."
The endearment made goosebumps rain over her skin and she shivered involuntarily. "Please?" She begged again. "We don't have to have sex. Just...use your fingers or something. I'm dying here."
"The first time you come when I'm the one responsible for it, I want it to be around my cock first and foremost. I want you wet, frustrated, and pleading. Out of your fucking mind with need."
"But I am," she whimpered. "Please, Draco. I'm wet. I'm so, so wet. And I'm begging. And I'm so frustrated right now. I'm all of those things. Just make me come once!"
He pressed a swift kiss to her lips, grinned smugly and pushed up from the cushions they'd been lounging on. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up onto her feet. "Time for bed."
"Really?" She gasped in surprise. Was he going to take her to bed? Did she manage to convince him?
Seeing the hope spark in her eyes, Draco chuckled huskily and shook his head. "No, babe. That's not what I meant."
Hermione huffed and folded her arms across her chest, sulking. He stepped closer to her, coaxed her arms apart and pulled her against his chest, enveloping her in that addictive smell of his. "I'm going to walk you back to your room," he whispered in her ear. "And I'll probably snog you senseless, cop a feel too, because I can't seem to help myself around you-"
"Oh, I think you're quite well restrained." She snipped, still pouting.
He huffed out a soft chuckle, unperturbed by her frustration. "And then I'll let you go to bed with your virtue intact. For now…"
"Seriously?" She gaped at him. "You're going to leave me to deal with all of this tension by myself?"
"Oh, no, sweetheart." He drawled and shook his head slowly. "You won't be touching yourself tonight. Not even once. That's my job."
"You can't tell me what to do." She challenged, affronted by his audacity to forbid her to get off. "Especially not after leaving me feeling like I'm about to self-destruct with need."
"No touching that pretty little cunt without me there. Do you understand?" His eyes were intense, and with a cocked brow, he dared her to disobey him. "Your first orgasm is mine. I need to be there; see your face when it pulls you under. I want to be the one giving it to you."
"That's very unfair of you, Draco," she scowled. "And what about you? Are you allowed to get off when you get back to your room?"
"Yes, I am. And believe me, it's going to take me a few rounds to settle down. To get the memory of my finger inside that tight, slick cunt of yours out of my head. But you…" He smirked, "Are going to be a good witch for me. You're going to wait for me. And I promise I'll make it worth the wait."
Her body thrummed with desire, and now, with the thought of Draco dragging his fist over his cock repeatedly, she knew she wouldn't get a wink of sleep tonight.
xxx
Two nights after their date in the room of requirement, Draco showed up at her bedroom window, hovering on his broomstick.
A knock on the bevelled glass made her look up from her homework and she smiled when she saw him. When she lifted herself onto the windowsill and opened the window, flashing him a wide smile, he reached out and curled his hand around her neck. His grey eyes were scorching with intensity as he watched her for a few seconds before he pressed his lips to hers.
She smiled against his mouth and parted her lips to allow him to deepen the kiss, humming her approval at the heat of his tongue as it caressed hers, and her heart fluttered in response.
When it became evident after a few minutes that neither would be satisfied ending the encounter with just a brief snog by her window, Draco pulled away and climbed onto the windowsill, handing her his broom. He folded his large frame through the small window and she stepped aside to allow him in.
"Hi," he flashed her a heart-stopping smile when he gracefully landed on the floor with a loud thud, looking insanely sexy in navy Quidditch robes.
"What brings you by, Malfoy?" She asked coyly, trying to keep her eyes on his face instead of on his perfectly toned physique that was obvious under the tight sports attire. It was such a shame that the eighth years weren't allowed on the school Quidditch teams. McGonagall wanted to give the younger students a fair chance to play for their house teams. She would have loved watching Draco play. Would have loved secretly cheering him on.
"There's this swotty Gryffindor witch that I can't seem to stop thinking about, and when flying couldn't keep my mind off of her, I decided to pay her a visit."
Hermione grabbed the front of his robes, fisted her hand in the material and pulled him closer to her. She lifted onto the tips of her toes and slipped her other hand around his neck to bring his mouth down to hers, eager to resume their kissing.
Draco groaned into her mouth, wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs to coax her legs around his hips and walked them slowly backwards toward her bed. He carefully lowered her onto the duvet without breaking the kiss and stretched his tall body over hers, warm and solid against her.
"Why didn't you come to my door?" She asked between kisses, hands searching for the hem of his shirt so she could touch his skin. When she finally succeeded, fingers tracing the hard dips and swells of his muscled abdomen, they groaned in tandem.
"Filch," he breathed his explanation and dragged his lips down her jaw to suck at the delicate skin of her neck, one of his hands slipping beneath her shirt to palm a breast.
She gasped and arched her back when he pulled the cup of her bra down and swiped his thumb over her nipple. Her thighs tightened around his hips in response, pulling him closer to the ache in her core.
Draco chuckled darkly against her neck and reciprocated without hesitation, grinding the very hard ridge of his cock right against her throbbing cunt with slow, torturous undulations of his hips, lips trailing back to her mouth to resume their lazy, heated kisses. They continued this way, eagerly touching, grinding, kissing and exploring until Hermione was so close to the edge of exploding that one more torturous minute would be enough to make her shatter beneath him.
But as if Draco knew just how close she was, he pulled away and dropped down beside her, adjusting his trousers where he strained against the tight material.
Her walls clenched at the sight—the outline of his cock large and very, very hard for her.
He turned on his side to look at her, eyes glazed and lids half-mast with arousal, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. He folded one of her pillows in half and stuffed it under his head, shifting to get comfortable. The sight of her frustrated scowl made him smile, all smug and very much amused by her reaction.
And even while incredibly disappointed and aching with desire, she still found herself completely enthralled by this particular expression of his. Where this smug look used to make her blood boil and her fingers itch to slap it off his face—as she had in third year—it was fast becoming her favourite now. "You know," she huffed when his smirk turned into a full-on grin, "I find it hard to understand how you were so uninhibited before when now you refuse to let me come just once. Even when we're fully clothed. It's so unfair."
"We're not ready to have sex yet," he insisted simply. "And I told you the first time you come for me I want it to be when I'm inside you."
She scoffed with disbelief. "I don't know how you've drawn this particular conclusion, but I'm very much ready to have sex with you. Virgin or not, it doesn't mean that I don't want this. And you've been through…" She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, "Actually, I don't even want to consider how many women you've shagged. But how is it possible that you're not ready?"
Draco sat up and scowled at her, shaking his head. He dragged a hand through his dishevelled blond hair and said in a low, frigid voice, "You know, Hermione. This is the first time you've made me feel like I don't possess a single emotion or that I'm not allowed to be scared to rush things." He got up off the bed and levelled her with flinty eyes, "I know I've fucked a lot of witches, but I don't quite know how to navigate what I feel when I'm with you. I'm so out of my depth here. I didn't go looking for you. I was fine with the way things were, and the one time I want to take it slow, you make it sound as if it's impossible for a guy like me. As if there's nothing more to me than meets the eye. And it hurts coming from you of all people."
Hermione pushed herself up and slid off the bed to stop Draco as he retreated with measured steps toward her door, looking at her with so much hurt and disappointment that she hated herself for how she'd voiced her frustrations.
"I'm sorry," she breathed the words and reached out for him. "I didn't mean it like that, Draco."
He shook his head and dodged her touch, "I have to go." And then he turned, walking away with long strides, exiting hastily and slamming the door behind him.
xxx
Hermione felt tired and weary the next morning while she nursed her cup of very strong coffee at the Gryffindor table. After Draco's and her misunderstanding last night—she refused to call it an argument—she'd gone to bed, giving him time to cool off and had resolved to address him the next morning to apologize properly. Needless to say, she hadn't gotten much sleep. She'd rolled around until after two in the morning, thinking about how vulnerable he'd been with her. How honest he'd been about the way her disregard for his feelings on the matter of having sex made him feel.
She was disappointed in herself for the way she'd handled things; for how she'd made the sex issue all about herself and implied that sex with her would be of just as little importance to him as it had been with all the other witches he'd shagged before her.
He'd told her on multiple occasions that he was scared; that he wouldn't survive being with her; that there was a real possibility that he might fall for her. And she'd essentially brushed aside his feelings and concerns with carelessness because of his past.
The way she'd handled the situation made it seem as if she couldn't trust him. Maybe she didn't—not completely, anyway—but so far, he hadn't given her any reason to be distrustful.
When she looked over at the Slytherin table, Draco looked away abruptly, trying to appear very engrossed in his plate of untouched food. But instead of staring at him and drawing unwelcome attention from other students, she resolved to pull him aside after breakfast to talk.
However, she was thwarted by Anthony Goldstein, who'd stopped her on her way out to talk about the Charms essay that was due next week. And she watched helplessly as Draco and his friends walked past.
To her utter bewilderment, Pansy of all people shot her a look of extreme annoyance and shook her head, before following after the others.
In potions, she tried to talk to Draco, but he studiously ignored her, taking notes as Professor Slughorn explained the common pitfalls when brewing Veritaserum, and how to counteract them. Unwilling to miss out on information that might be included in the N.E.W.T.s exams, she focussed her attention on the professor instead, pushing thoughts of Draco and her pending apology to the back of her mind until she had time to think up a clear plan of action later.
After dinner, she seized the opportunity to head to Draco's room, his broom clutched in her palm since he'd forgotten to take it with him last night. She was nervous and her hands were shaking and clammy by the time she arrived at his door, unsure of how she would be received. But she had to try. Had to clear the air and apologize.
When the door opened to reveal Pansy Parkinson instead of the blond she was looking for, Hermione's stomach plummeted. Pansy's green-and-silver tie hung loosely around her neck and she was wearing only her white school shirt and skirt. No stockings.
She'd obviously interrupted something.
For all Draco's assurances that he and Pansy had a platonic relationship, Pansy seemed quite underdressed. And Hermione wondered if Draco was already moving on so soon after last night's disagreement.
"Granger," Pansy acknowledged in a bored tone, tipping her head to the side in a calculating stare.
"I'm sorry," Hermione shook her head briskly, "I didn't mean to interrupt your date with Malfoy." She thrust Draco's broom at Pansy, willing away the sting of mortified tears that threatened to pool in her eyes. "Have fun," she said through clenched teeth and stalked away to go and hide under the safety of her covers. Maybe even have a good cry.
"Granger, wait!" Pansy called after her, but she kept going, increasing her pace. She didn't think she could stomach a gloating, snide comment from the dark-haired witch right now.
Back in her room, Hermione made herself a cup of camomile tea and was just about to get ready for a bath when there was a knock on her door. She ignored it, suspecting that it was probably Draco, and waited for him to leave. After a minute, there was another, more insistent knock, and then he called, "Open up, Hermione. I know you're in there."
Resigning herself to the fact that they'd have to deal with what happened last night, she reluctantly headed over to open her door.
"Your lack of faith in me and your uncanny ability to draw the wrong conclusions are astounding," he accused with a flinty look and a tight jaw as soon as the door swung open. And then he pushed past her, striding into her tiny living room to take a seat on the sofa.
He watched her with an expectant look.
When she didn't move from her spot at the door, he cocked a brow. "Well? Are we going to talk or not? I assume that's why you came over to my room just now. And Pansy said you implied that there was something sexual going on and that you apologized for interrupting us?"
"She was half-dressed while in your room and-"
"Was she naked?" Draco cut her off. "Did you see me having sex with her?"
"No," she bristled, "But you might have just gotten started when-"
"Christ almighty," he chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't know why I'm even listening to this shit. What I told you last night obviously made no fucking difference to how you see me." He dragged a defeated hand over his face and pushed out of his chair.
"Sit down, Draco," she ordered firmly, making her way over to him. "Let's finish this conversation right now."
"What's the bloody point?" He snapped, narrowing his eyes at her. But he took his seat again. "You're never going to trust me enough to believe that my intentions are sincere."
"I'm trying, okay?" She growled in response, taking a seat in the Chesterfield opposite him. "I really am, but I'm also scared of getting hurt, and as much as I'm trying to let go of your past, I can't help wondering why you'd want me; why you'd want to take things slow with me when you could have any gorgeous witch drop her knickers for you at the snap of your fingers. It doesn't make sense."
"Because you're so damn beautiful, Hermione," he breathed the words reverently. "Inside and out. I don't know how I missed it all these years, but it's impossible not to notice now. You're unbelievably smart — but you know this. Your skin; your curves; your whole body is unbelievably addictive and I can't keep my eyes or my mind off of you. But more importantly, it's because we have a deeper connection. It's because you see past my money, my reputation and my dark past. You see through all the bullshit. You see me like none of the other witches do. Or at least that's what I thought before last night."
"I do see you, Draco," she insisted. "But I'm scared. Things between us aren't fizzling out the way I thought they would. We've snogged quite a few times already, and the novelty of it is not wearing off. But I'm also waiting for you to tell me that you've had enough and then just walk away."
"I told you I'm scared too! I told you that from the start!" He snapped at her, pushing himself out of his chair. He was glaring at her, posture rigid. "I've shared more about myself with you than with anyone but my friends. I've spent more time with you these last couple of weeks than with all those other witches combined, yet you still doubt my intentions. I've been patient, genuine and open with you. I've taken it slow-"
"I never asked you to take it slow. Don't make me sound like a prude when you're-"
"I didn't say you were a prude, Hermione. Fuck!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, jaw muscle ticking a staccato rhythm, highlighting his agitation. "You're missing the whole point." He heaved a breath and tipped his head to the ceiling as if he were praying for something. And when he looked back at her, his grey eyes flashed with determination. "I want you. And though it defies all logic and reason, I can't stop thinking about you. I can't wait until I get to see you every morning at breakfast. Or kiss you. Talk to you. Get time alone with you. I'm in way over my head, but I can't seem to help myself when I'm with you. I know what we have has an expiry date for a whole host of reasons, and I'll deal with those when the time comes. But I can't stand the fact that you don't trust me. I hate that you question my intentions and sincerity when I say I want to take it slow with you; savour what we have; savour the process of dating you and getting to know you properly, before I have sex with you. I've never been in a relationship before, and I want to do it right."
"I'm really sorry..." She breathed the apology, completely stunned by his admission and the sincerity of it. "I'm sorry for implying that you're incapable of having a meaningful relationship and feelings for me. And I apologize for allowing myself to think that you were planning on shagging Pansy tonight." She got up and walked over to Draco, taking his hand. She looked down at his large hand in hers and marvelled at how perfectly they fit together when she laced her fingers through his. "I just find the idea of you and me so surreal sometimes. I never saw this coming. Never imagined that I'd feel the way I do for you and that you'd share these feelings. Nothing about you fits with what I thought I knew, and I'm still trying to come to terms with all of it."
His eyes softened and he lifted his free hand to cup her cheek, stroking a thumb across her cheekbone. "I never saw you coming either. Never saw past the bookish, do-gooder image. And I was so surprised when I took a deeper look. I guess I'm just as guilty for my preconceived notions about you, and I can imagine how hard it must be to take me at my word when all you've seen was the worst parts of me. The prejudiced pure-blood. The philandering, cruel Death Eater. But I'm more myself with you than I've ever been with anyone else. Except with my friends. Maybe."
"Can you forgive me for last night? And for thinking the worst when I found Pansy in your room earlier? I promise I'll try harder to reign in my suspicions when it comes to her. It's just that you spend a lot of time together and she's really pretty, with the right name and family and-"
Draco pressed his lips to hers to silence her rambling. "You're forgiven," he pressed another, firmer kiss to her lips. "Also, I love that you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous," she bristled. "I said I was suspicious."
"Jealous," he insisted. "And I find the idea of Hermione Granger being jealous in regards to me with other women insanely sexy." He held up a finger when she opened her mouth to deny his accusation once more. "But I think—and Pansy agrees with me on this—that I need to let you in on a secret that might help you better understand my relationship with her. Pansy's only request was that you never tell anyone until she decides to make it public knowledge. She asks that you consider what it might mean for her future if you ever told anyone about it; what it would mean if her parents found out." Draco watched her warily, pleading with his eyes, "She's one of my best friends, Hermione, and I'm also begging you to keep this a secret, even if things between us don't work out. I gave Pansy my word that I'd keep my mouth shut and that you would too, and her allowing me to divulge her biggest secret to avoid further misunderstandings between us was very gracious of her. I told her I trust you, so please, don't make a liar out of me."
"I would never do that to either of you. I would never intentionally endeavour to ruin someone's life. That's not who I am."
"Yeah," he nodded sagely. "I know that."
"So, what is this big secret, then?"
"There will never be anything between Pansy and me because despite us feeling more like brother and sister, she's attracted to women. Not men."
"Oh..." Hermione gaped in surprise. "I didn't know."
"Yes," he watched her carefully for a reaction. "And if this information reaches her parents, she's screwed."
"Why? She shouldn't be ashamed of who she loves. And she shouldn't be afraid of what her parents think. It's her life."
Draco sighed morosely. "We're getting off-topic, but I guess I should explain. It might make you understand why Pansy can be such a bitch sometimes. And I say this with all the love in the world." He scratched his five o'clock shadow. "It's not a matter of her parents' opinion. It's the fact that they will never allow it."
"What do you mean 'allow'? It's not as if the fate of the Parkinson name is resting on her shoulders. She's a woman and she'll marry into another family anyway. It's not quite the same as it is for you, though. Is it?"
"It's different being a pure-blood witch. And though you're quite right about marrying into another family, there are still firm expectations and pressure from her parents. There are a lot of double standards, as well. Pure-blood witches are dependent on their parents for everything from financial support, grooming, and etiquette, to finding them a suitable husband who would continue to care for them and their parents. Especially financially. So, if Pansy, for instance, dared tell her parents she wasn't interested in men, they'd cut her off and toss her to the street before she could finish her sentence."
"That's...barbaric!" Hermione gasped. "Do your parents have no concern for your happiness at all?"
"Not really. They're only interested in the matters they think are important. Like wealth and keeping our bloodlines pure. Love and happiness are considered a bonus. If you happen to fall in love with your partner, great. If not, there's always the option of having someone on the side. Infidelity is notoriously popular amongst pure-bloods," he grimaced. "Everyone simply turns a blind eye."
"I don't even know what to say." She pursed her lips. "You mean to tell me that if Pansy's parents marry her off, she'll be expected to have children with a man she's not even the slightest bit interested in?"
"Yes." His answer was simple. Accepting.
"And if you were to marry someone you don't even find attractive—that doesn't arouse you—how would that even work? I mean, how are you expected to conceive a baby when you can't even manage to get turned on?"
Draco chuckled darkly. "There are potions for that. You know, if you find yourself 'uninspired'. You take it beforehand when the woman is in her fertile window. She takes a fertility potion to help things along. And that is usually sufficient. Once you've managed to conceive, there's no reason to have sex again. Husband and wife sleep in separate rooms, sometimes even separate wings, which make it easier for the men to keep up appearances of fidelity when taking a mistress on the side. Women rarely take a lover, but it happens from time to time. That's also why you don't often see pure-bloods have more than one child. The goal is to conceive an heir, and if the first child is a girl, the couple might try for another."
"I assume that was the case for Daphne and Astoria's parents?"
"Yes, but if my mother was telling the truth, it seems Mr and Mrs Greengrass found sex with each other so unbearable that they decided not to try a third time."
"Gods..." Hermione's shoulders sagged. She couldn't imagine having to live like that, revolted by the idea of having sex with her husband, but forced to do so anyway. "That's so fucking bleak. I just don't understand how a parent could do that to their children. It's as if they don't love you."
"They probably don't. Not really. They tolerate us because we're a means to an end."
"Carrying on the family name." It made sense. And yet, she found it appalling. She was suddenly very grateful for her muggle parents, even if they didn't remember her.
A/N: What do you think of our favourite pair?
Did you enjoy their interactions and all their little admissions?
Let me know xxx
