February 20th, 1999
Hermione resisted the urge to yawn while she continued to flip through this week's reading assignment absentmindedly. Only a few more pages, she told herself before she could call it a night. While it wasn't uncommon to find her neck deep in the library on a Saturday evening, it wasn't as frequent of an occurrence as of late. Today, she broke a consecutive streak of having weekend plans when she last minute declined an opportunity to go a new bakery opening in Hogsmeade.
Despite her friends' protests, she ended up staying behind, taking the evening to make up for her inability to concentrate this week. It didn't help that this week's assignments left much to be desired and the text they revolved around was dull and uninspiring. It was also physically heavy, which normally wasn't an issue. Except she ended up leaving her charmed bag at the Manor. In Draco's bedroom, to be precise. She anticipated having it returned to her come Monday. Only, she hadn't seen Draco since that night.
As soon as she'd returned to her dormitory that night, she passed out on her bed, completely worn from the evening activities. With all of the socializing, the dancing, and having been shagged the living daylights out of, she was proud that she managed to avoid collapsing in his floo. The following morning, she woke up entirely sated, albeit, more sore than anticipated. With the unexpected aches, she took her time getting ready with slow and careful movements and Ginny, who was in the process of waking, took notice. As Ginny grew more conscious, she became concerned for her friend. That is, until Hermione let out a sharp gasp and winced when she sat down.
Ginny's initial worry dissipated and her jaw fell to the floor when she realized the reasoning for her strange behavior. She stared in shock before giving an excitable squeal and heckled her with a slew of personal questions, all revolving around the same topic. A topic she was not looking to discuss first thing in the morning. Hermione's response was to chuck pillows at the redhead who easily dodged them while howling with giddiness and pride.
Since that morning, not a single word was spoken about their fornicating. Instead, they proceed about their day separately. Ginny went on to enjoy the afternoon with Harry and Hermione spent her day watching over the potion where she reread for the umpteenth time. She recalled when he mentioned he would be spending the day with his mother so she settled for sending him a simple enchanted message in their journal. She'd anticipated having to spend Valentine's Day alone, though not the following day. Or the next.
She frequented her journal where she made daily entries to him but much like the first night, nothing came from it. She did see Blaise and Theo several times throughout the week and without her asking, they'd brought up their missing companion. Unfortunately, neither of them had heard from him since that night at the manor. Nor did they seem to know the specific details of his absence. Only that it was family business.
Conveniently enough, she did receive letters this week from both Harry and Ron. She even got one from Pansy who'd been settling in London for the time being. Even so, the distractions went only so far in lessening her worry. Draco was never one to disclose more details than necessary but that didn't make her any less frustrated that he left when he did. As she sat in the library, she thought of ways to confront him regarding this matter when he eventually returned.
Her train of thought faded when someone approached her, placing themselves in the seat across. From where her book was placed, she could only catch a glimpse of flaxen hair. Out of reflex, a surge of fury surfaced though when she set her book down. Only to have it dissipate when she realized the person in front of her was not at all who she thought.
"Luna," Hermione stammered in surprise, "I-I thought—when did you—? "
"We just came back," Luna said airily, unfazed by the brunette's evident distress. "Everyone's gathered in the Slytherin common room if you wanted to join us?"
"I wish I could but I really need to finish this essay."
An essay that she had yet to start...
"Would you like some assistance? I'd be happy to keep you company—"
"I appreciate it, Luna but I don't want to keep you due to my own faults. I'll catch up with you all tomorrow, I promise."
Considering the alternative, Luna eventually nodded and bared a soft smile.
"I'll let them know you're busy until Monday." Hermione went to interject but Luna had walked — or rather, skipped — away before she could argue. Deciding to take it as a favor, she returned to her lingering task at hand.
A few minutes passed and she was finally able to reach a decent part of the book. Then the sound of a chair scraping across the floor ripped her from whatever concentration she had. She pursed her lips, trying not to scream in frustration.
"Luna, please. I really need to get this done—"
"You know, despite our likeness in physical appearance, we aren't actually related..."
A low, frigid drawl rumbled and shattered her bubble instantly. Her book clattered onto the table, leaving no obstacles between her and her intruder. When she met his gaze, a shaky breath of relief made its way out before the once dormant rage began to surface.
"You've got to be shitting me," she seethed.
Draco sat across from her, seemingly unharmed and neat as a pin. Except this time, something was different about him. That wasn't to say she'd never seen him this way before. No. He was different in that he was reminiscent of the boy she knew growing up — pretentious and snide, an overall rotten tosser. Not at all like the cultivated and reserved, and at times, cynical man she'd come to be captivated by.
"I don't think Madam Pince would approve of such language in her library," he teased in a lilt, crossing his arms as if to challenge her.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" she scowled, displeased.
"Thought I'd come see how you were doing," he retorted. "I heard you've had a bad week."
"Well, you heard incorrectly," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes and perching her book back to its original position.
"'12 Days of Nightshade?'" He grimaced. "That's a terrible read."
She bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. Instead, she kept her head tucked down to avoid his gaze, but not before catching the way his eyes kept darting to a pair of students nearby.
"Don't you have other people to bother? I'm sure Blaise and Theo would appreciate your pestering more."
"Already saw them." She could feel the intensity of his gaze. Fixated on her. "Did you know the new bakery in Hogsmeade just opened?" A lump gathered in her throat as she recalled how hopeful everyone was for her to come — Ginny, in particular — and now she knew why.
Traitors.
"I'm aware," she stated, packing her heavy book away. "But as I told everyone else, I have a lot of work to catch up on so if you'll excuse me." With that, she stood from her chair and made a beeline for the exit. A few steps in, she heard him whisper and felt a shift around them. A notice-me-not charm. She gnawed the inside of her cheek, glancing at him when he came up beside her just as they passed through the doorway.
"You know Granger," his voice a low purr as he pulled her against him, heading toward a nearby alcove, "—if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were cross with me."
"What makes you think that?"
"Your behavior towards me is analogous to when we were children."
"As kids, it was hardly by choice."
"And yet, we've hardly gone a day without talking this year."
"That's not true," she quipped with indifference. A tone he frequented but detested when used against him. "There was nearly a whole month this year when you refused to acknowledge me—"
"For fuck's sake, Granger," he cut off sharply, and she suppressed a victorious grin. "Are we really doing this?"
"We wouldn't have to do anything if you just left me alone," she retorted in a similar tone, ignoring the pang in her chest when the words left her lips.
There was no truth to them, as she'd missed him terribly. However, the week had been a long one and the last remaining thread was on the verge of snapping. They maintained eye contact as he leaned in closer.
"Do you really feel that wa—?"
"Yes," she blurted quickly. Too quick. His eyes narrowed.
Then, a transient chuckle escaped him in the form of a breath, grazing her cheek.
"Didn't realize I performed so poorly."
She would have laughed if it weren't for the slightest hint of uncertainty in his tone, leaving her completely baffled he could think that to be true. He'd been absolutely attentive and passionate and wonderful...
And that made it all worse.
"As I recall, I wasn't the one who disappeared for an entire week." Her voice was barely above a whisper, willing herself not to let loose any accidental magic from the swirling emotions caused by his proximity. "I think you've made it clear how you feel and far beyond me to demand an explanatio—hey!" In the blur, Draco had pulled her out of the alcove and led them down the hallway. Straight into the very same abandoned classroom where it all started.
"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, furrowing her brow when he closed the door and muttered a locking spell.
"Giving us more privacy." He said simply. Next came the silencing spell, and her shoulders deflated.
"Why?"
Pausing his movements, he seemed to bite back words and was considering his options before answering. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"I don't require your assistance. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"I never said you couldn't," he said pointedly.
"Is that why you didn't bother to tell me you were going to be gone?" His jaw clenched tightly. Clearly, he hadn't expected her to take a direct approached. Then, she crossed her arms. Subdued anger written plainly.
"You could have told me that night—"
"I didn't know until after you left—"
"You could have journaled—"
"I wasn't allowed to—"
"Well how bloody convenient—"
"It's the truth!"
"You could have sent Saphira!" She raised her hands in exasperation. "You could have said something—anything." She reached for him, tugging him closer by the collar of his sweater.
"Granger," he drawled, like he was preparing to lecture a small child. "You are stretching my jumper—"
"You probably have fifty of these in your walk-in closet the size of my bedroom—"
"Actually, I only have the one but it is rather expensive so if you don't mind, please stop fucking pulling." His tone darkened and grew harsh, aggravating her further. "I had hoped my absence wouldn't have such a negative effect on you."
"You hoped?!" Even at her raised tone, he still didn't flinch. "This isn't just you disappearing randomly for a night because of one of your obligations. You were gone for a whole bloody week. A week without telling any of your friends or—" her voice cracked, the anger finally reaching its peak and spilling into desolation. She gnawed at her lip and turned away, refusing to let him see her in such a way.
"Granger, look at me." Contrasting her, his voice was low and calm, but the undercurrent of emotion he rarely showed sent a shiver up her spine. Even so, she ignored him and continued to evade his gaze.
"Granger?"
Still nothing.
"Hermione, look at me."
A glimpse of hope flashed across her eyes when they met his stormy greys, concern peeking through the turbulent haze.
"I did try to send an owl that night." He cupped her face, stroking her cheekbones with a tenderness he at times struggled to convey. "Unfortunately, this was Ministry business pertaining to my family and I wasn't allowed to disclose anything or have contact with anyone else."
His words made her ponder. First Harry and Ron, and now the Ministry was making him keep information confidential as well? What were they up to?
"You could have led with that," she sniffed pitifully, and his lips twitched.
"Not when there were people around. We do have a secret to uphold, you know?"
She sighed, finally resigning into his embrace, her arms around his hips. His heartbeat was slow and steady when she set her head against his chest, nuzzling into soft cashmere.
"So it's been sorted?"
He hummed. "For now."
"Good. Because I swear to Merlin, Draco Malfoy, if you leave for another bloody week without telling me—"
"Calm yourself, Granger," he snickered. "I have no intention of being summoned away anytime soon. I still have an entire week of what seem to be mind-numbing assignments to catch up on." He side-eyed her, a sly grin on the cusp. "Unless..." She let out a snort.
"Absolutely not. You're out of your mind if you think I'm helping you after what you put me through this week," she retorted, raising a single brow and crossing her arms.
Like a switch, the demeanor in his eyes shifted. Darkening with intent.
"I'm sure I can find ways to bring you around."
Her cheeks flushed as a result.
She hadn't been able to take time to appreciate his return until now. Throughout the week, she would think back to the memory of having him under her hands. She could feel the weight of his solid body pressing her into his bed. She could feel the ghost of his light, feathery touch against her where the ache was the greatest. She could feel his thick girth from when it stretched her, reaching the deepest parts of her. Having laid with him, it was kind of strange to know what he looked like beneath the layers. Well, most of him anyway. Part of her wished she'd gotten a more thorough look at him that night but she ended up pushing the thought aside, deciding that there would be another chance later on.
With the way he was looking at her now, it would seem that chance might be coming sooner than she anticipated.
She swallowed thickly. "You know you don't have to drag us into a classroom every time you want to talk?"
A sensual chuckle passed through him, surpassing her defensive shields and going directly to her core. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have more than talking in mind—" she gasped as he pulled her closer, "—and I don't particularly want an audience."
In the span of a few short moments, she found herself being lifted onto a desk with a warm body stepping between her legs. Her breath was snatched in the seconds following when he kissed her with a ferocity she hadn't seen from him before. If she didn't know any better, she'd say the unexpected separation affected him as much as it did her.
"We're all alone now," he mumbled, peppering light kisses along her jaw between breaths. "You can tell me why you're really upset..."
Refusing to cave, she shook her head, unintentionally angling her head so he could kiss her neck.
"You sure?" His hands slid underneath her jumper, easing it upwards and settling it on top of heaving breasts. "You're awfully tense, Granger," he expressed, steadily kneading her lace-encased breasts.
Hermione moaned again, the heat of her cunt grinding against him, and Draco echoed her with a soft grunt.
"You aren't helping," she managed, fighting to keep her composure while he worked diligently with his talented hands and blessed soft lips.
"No? Is there anything I could do to make you feel better?" He murmured, dragging his thumb around the point of her nipple.
"Draco," she shuddered. It was appalling how much being with him felt like instinct.
He rocked into her and curled his fingers into the cup of her bra, tugging at it and edging the lace down.
"I love it when you say my name like that."
He extracted a gasp from her when he bared her to his hungry gaze.
"Dreamt all week about your perfect tits." He opened his mouth, tongue flicking over her nipple as he closed around it, his teeth scraping along her skin. He caught the nub between his lips, sucking hard, and shifting his attention upwards just in time to watch her tilt her head back in a silent moan. Grinning, his hand trailed downward, dipping into the lip of her denims.
"It's not good for you to be this tense, Granger," Draco growled into the curve of her breast, laving at it. "You should know better."
She whimpered when he bit down, grasping at his hair. "Didn't realize you cared."
"Have to. My grade depends on it."
Of course, she thought hazily. "There's always something in it for you." She felt his amused laugh vibrate through her chest.
"Catch on quick." His hand found its way between her legs and she keened at the faintest pressure. "Regardless, you shouldn't put yourself in this state. I worry," he feigned concern, flicking the button to her jeans open and pulling down the zipper.
In a swift motion, he peeled her denims down, leaving a pair of periwinkle knickers behind.
She knew she was cursed given how quickly he caught on to his effect on her, feeling all reason abandon her when he pressed the heel of his hand on her mound. His long fingers scraping the lace underneath as he curled them around her body. Tilting her head down to kiss him, she moaned against his lips.
"Gods," she breathed, eyes sliding shut while he resumed his delicious torment. He gave a dark laugh, his breath stirring her hair.
"What do you want?"
"Touch me," Hermione gasped out.
Draco laughed again and shifted, pulling the inseam of her knickers to the side. He trailed one finger along the folds of her cunt in slow, long drags that had her trembling.
"I am touching you."
"More," she said, her voice shaking.
Draco parted her labia and slid his finger from her clit down to rest on her entrance.
"Tell me," he said, utilizing the tone she'd envisioned in her very dreams. "Tell me what you want."
Hermione's body quivered as she clutched at his hair.
Years of gradual tension in these very same hallways, weeks of growing affection as they discovered something new in each other, days of missing him in his absence and finally. Finally, he was touching her. She'd momentarily forgotten why she was cross with him in the first place, forgot about any other person outside this abandoned classroom. Her entire world narrowed to Draco. His warm breath on her shoulder, his stiff cock against her thigh, his fingers teasing her.
The last of her restraint left with a flick against her nub. In that moment, need took over.
"Your fingers," she whispered. "In me."
He grinned, and she inhaled a sharp breath when he breached the fabric completely to slide an entire finger inside her.
"Did you miss me, Granger?" He taunted. "Is that why you were so worked up?" A second finger followed. "Why you're practically dripping right now?"
Dainty fingers gripped his jumper tightly as his own pumped languidly within her. She bit her lip, forbidding any sounds to escape and he voiced his disapproval.
"The room is silenced for a reason, love." His touch was torture. And was pure bliss all at once. "I want to hear you," he rasped, earning a squeak when his other hand pinched a nipple. "Or do I need to bend you over my knee?"
She let out a tortured moan, her walls tightening around him.
"Oh? Sounds like you'd love that as much as me," he purred, coercing a sharp breath through her teeth when his fingers twisted inside of her, working through a slow rhythm. She felt the ache become lighter and lighter. Still, it wasn't enough to satisfy it in its entirely. Somehow, he seemed attuned to what she needed when he pulled back, extracting his long fingers before proceeding to roll up his sleeves. Watching him, she felt her walls spasm around nothing.
Fucking git.
"Lay back." She did as instructed, propping herself on her elbows as his eyes took in her debauched appearance. It wasn't often she felt comfortable with most of her body being on display like this, much less in front of another person. Yet, for some reason, she never felt more comfortable in her own skin.
Draco resumed his position, bending down to nuzzle between her breasts.
"Ever since that night, I couldn't stop thinking about you," he admitted. "I fantasized you for years but not once did I expect you to be as fantastic as you were."
"You certainly know how to make a girl feel special," she retorted sarcastically.
"My apologies," he feigned, "—did I say fantastic? I meant the worst. Gods, it was terrible. So terrible, I had to force myself to ejaculate—"
"Are you quite finished?" She blurted, her cheeks burning bright red much to his delight.
"Hardly." A trail of kisses were made along her stomach. "I've got an entire week to make up for."
She shivered as he progressed lower, his attention shifting to her heated core.
"You rotten git, quit teasing."
"Back to name calling again?" He sneered. "Think I liked it better when you screamed my name."
At the turn of a new opportunity, her lips turned upwards into a smirk.
"You want me to do it again?" She taunted, leaning closer. "You'll have to earn it, Malfoy."
"Mouthy little swot," he growled, making her yelp when he yanked her to him. "I must admit, I do have one regret from our evening together.
"Mm? What's that?" She could feel the hint of insecurity creeping up within her. But any sort of doubt or negative thoughts she had were shot when his eyes flashed a wicked gleam.
"I never got the chance to taste you."
Her head jerked up with alarm.
"You...you're not—" she babbled, at a loss for words seeing him kneeling before her with his head between her legs. His expression nothing short of yearning and hunger. This...act in particular; she'd known of its existence but never bothered with thinking it would ever happen to her in the foreseeable future. Now, as he knelt and eyed her like a starving man, she didn't know how to process what he was preparing to do.
"Draco, wait—"
She quickly tugged on his hair and in an instant, the confident, smug exterior vanished and was replaced with a look of concern.
"I haven't, I've never—"
He smiled at her.
"Well, how lucky for you. I'll be your first."
What followed was a faint hint of kisses along her inner thigh, edging closer and closer to where the ache was the greatest.
"Is that alright?" Hermione managed an eventual yes.
"Trust me, you'll like it," he assured when he could feel how tense she was still.
His eyes were black as he pulled her knickers to the side and took in the sight of her. Her own eyes widened when she realized he didn't want them off of her just yet.
He smirked and his tongue licked a broad stripe from her cunt to her clit before he plunged his fingers back into her. The feeling of his mouth on her and his fingers curling within her made her arms wobble.
She slumped lower, slamming her eyes closed when he suckled. Hard.
If she thought he had a way with words in his dirty praise, it was nothing compared to how he was with his tongue. He dove in with intention, flicking and gliding along her clit. Her back arched and she pressed his head closer, practically suffocating him. He didn't seem to mind. Instead, he bit out a low moan, and her eyes shot open.
The sight of Draco Malfoy on his knees and pleasuring her with his mouth made her consider getting a pensieve. It was a sight that would inevitably be her undoing.
"D-Draco, I-I can't. I'm going to—" she tried to convey, already breathless and boneless. But he was relentless, taking her usage of his name as motivation to bring her to the edge until she had no choice but to fall.
Without preamble, it hit her.
Hermione bucked her hips upward, digging her heels into his back and gripping onto his hair for dear life. Draco moaned and dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her to him. Jaw slack and cunt spasming, she came fast, screaming his name until her voice broke.
Her head fell back and she slumped onto the desk, her legs falling limp on his shoulders.
Somewhere in the background, there was a soft muttering of a cleansing charm and the loss of his warmth as he stood and towered over her.
"Fucking hell," he muttered. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen." He nipped her earlobe and rubbed his stiffness against her drenched knickers, the length of it hard and hot even through his trousers.
She glanced down and stared at the sizable bulge. Still dazed, she reached forward, running her fingers along it. The reaction was almost instantaneous. Pleased when he let out a breathy sigh, she gave him a gentle squeeze and felt him twitch.
"Granger," he prompted hoarsely when she yanked at his trousers. Her hands worked in conjunction to unbuckle him, motivated to not let anything hinder her from seeing him to completion. She didn't respond. At least, not with words when she pulled his buttons open. Not when her hand slipped into his drawers. When she pulled him out, he looked about ready to collapse. Curiously, she wrapped a hand around him, witnessing in awe at just how much of him there was.
Using instinct, she followed what he seemed to react positively to. When he inhaled sharply or when his grip on her tightened. When he buried his face in her hair as her hand traveled. Long glides, shorter pumps, firmer at the base and lighter near the head.
She could feel the blood coursing through the shaft beneath her fingertips, could see it in each throb as she stroked him. The way she adapted and utilized new methods like she were taking him on as a school assignment, and it was clear she was set on exceeding his expectations.
"I want you," she admitted plainly, tightening her grip and gradually picking up speed.
Draco seized her hands, instantly stopping her movements.
"Turn around," he said gravelly, staring at her. "Hands on the desk."
She did as he told, listening to his movements as she braced herself for what came next.
"Tell me something," he said from behind. "Did you tell Ginerva about our evening together?"
"What, Ginny? No, I-I didn't—" She felt the blunt head of him graze her inner thigh before it rested outside her folds.
"I know she knows, Granger." He held her hips firmly when she tried pushing back into him. "I didn't have to read her thoughts when she kept glancing at my crotch all night."
"She knows but I didn't—oh!" Without preamble, Draco pushed into her. This position felt different, gave him more control. Left her wanting more. Much like last time, it was tight. Almost too tight, but he didn't move.
Hermione trembled.
"You were saying?"
"S-she figured it out. I was sore the morning after." A soft mewl sounded when he finally slipped back to push into her again. And again.
"Did you tell her it was because you didn't let me prep you properly?" He rocked inside her, moving slow, pulling out halfway and sliding in deep. "Because you were too impatient for my cock?"
How he managed coherent sentences when she could barely keep it together was beyond her. Dropping her head back with a quiet whimper, she arched into him, taking him deeper still.
It felt too good, like a current rushing through her, and his palm flattened against her spine.
Like last time, she wanted more.
Everything all at once.
She loosened around him and he slid fully into her, his hips flush to her own. He spread his hands over her abdomen and his head fell onto her shoulder.
"Fuck," he whispered, his voice shaking. "You have no idea," he muttered, pushing deeper into her. "No idea what it's been like without you."
"Really?" Hermione sighed, a small smile working across her face when he tilted her head back to kiss her.
"Gods, yes," he confessed against her lips. "You drive me fucking mad."
A hand slid up to knead her breast. He was going to make it so she felt him everywhere for days, and it wasn't enough.
"Don't you dare leave again," she warned.
"I won't."
And she believed him.
She tipped her head back and kissed the underside of his jaw where he had his head over her shoulder.
"Gods," she whispered, her nails digging into his thigh.
"You're about to come again, aren't you?"
Her eyes flickered open, looking at him wildly. He grinned wickedly and leaned down to mutter;
"I can feel you fluttering around me, Hermione."
Her breaths were gasps and her eyes became glassy.
"Draco, I-I think I'm—" she keened in a breathy whisper as she sucked air into her suddenly starved lungs.
His movements grew sharper and he fucked her with intermittent grunts.
"Go on, love." His voice was rough from arousal, and she could tell he was close. "Let me feel you come."
When the other hand on her abdomen reached between her legs and grazed her clit, her second orgasm crashed over her like a wave. Long pulses of pleasure coursing through her as she cried out. With a few more thrusts, a warmth spread through her while their chests heaved with harsh breaths.
As they recovered, he fell forward so she could feel his heart racing.
"How are you so good at this?" She implored, breathlessly.
Draco grew uneasy.
"You really want to know the answer?"
Despite being hesitant, she nodded.
Exhaling deeply, Draco pulled away and wanded her clothes to her. "A few months after Pans and I broke up, I got into an arrangement with another witch." The second, unnamed witch.
"What sort of an arrangement?" She tread carefully, watching as he fought a wall from sliding into place.
"No attachments. Strictly for pleasure," he reported plainly while sliding his belt into its loop. She paused briefly in pulling her jeans back up.
"You kept it simple," she said softly, recalling this almost being their case from a conversation taking place weeks ago.
"We did." He pursed his lips as she buttoned her jeans. When she transitioned to her top, he halted her movements, a silent question in his gaze.
Lowering her hands, she let him raise the cups of her bra and kiss the tops of her breasts before righting her jumper.
"It was different with us. Regardless," He tilted her chin upwards to redirect her downward gaze. "—I can't change what's happened in the past, Hermione."
Gods, she couldn't get over how lovely her name sounded in his voice. When it wasn't full of malice or mirth, but of affection and sincerity. It made it so easy to forgive him for anything.
"I understand," she said, dusting his shoulders and pressing out any wrinkles she may have caused. "I suspect the needs you sought to satisfy at the time were very different from now."
He grabbed her hands, bringing them to his lips. "Unequivocally so."
"Very well," she exhaled after a moment.
He raised his brows, not expecting that response. "What?"
"I'll help you with your assignments," she further explained, returning to their original topic prior to sex. "Can't say I've made much progress, myself. But don't think you're in the clear. There's nearly an entire week you have to make up for," she stated, pointing a stern finger. To which, he flashed a cocky grin.
"Give me a few minutes and I'll happily make you forget."
"No!" She laughed, poking him in the chest. "No more distractions. We still need to get a proper dinner."
"Hmm," he pondered, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What if we had dessert first?"
"Later, Draco. Right now, I'm starv—" She trailed off when he took out a bag. A bag that she last saw in his bedroom a week ago. A surge of happiness rushes through her and she wanted to kiss him blind. Instead, she restrained herself and eyed it precariously.
"Are we sure—"
"—it still works. I checked."
"How do I know if—?"
"—it's not cursed, poisoned or set to explode," he droned, holding it out between them for her to take.
When she shook it, she felt something soft hit her hand through the fabric.
"Go on. Open it," he goaded, a handsome smirk on display.
She loosened the drawstring, feeling her heart burst when the scent of fresh pastries hit her senses.