IMPORTANT NOTES AT THE END!
The following Friday night, an hour before midnight, Draco had set up the fireworks near one side of the Lake and charmed them to fly over it, once set off, and climb to the centre of it to burst high into the sky. Two Aurors stood a little way off, but close enough to observe what was happening. Most of the students were in their dormitories since it was past curfew, and as expected, the Prefects had placed Silencio's on the common rooms and dormitories.
Hermione had decided to wear a less fancy, but more flowy dress that Draco had rented. It was an ochre colour with a very demure neckline. Over it, to keep out the cold, she wore a wool cardigan. She had only lightly applied make-up and had brushed her hair.
Blaise, Draco, Ginny, Ron and her were already sitting by a weeping willow. The snow had melted, but the wind was still cold. Three lanterns dangled from the low branches of the willow, dimly illuminating the small group. There were four benches facing the Black Lake. Ginny and Ron were sitting on one, Draco and Hermione on another, and Blaise was standing. Harry was late. They were all decently dressed, but not as dashing as they had been during their mini-Ball last week.
"Well, the Survivor isn't the most punctual," Blaise joked.
Draco looked at his watch. "He's still got...twenty-three minutes until New Year's."
Harry came running in a few minutes later and stopped in front of them, panting. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized. "I had... I had to finish something."
He wore a light coat and took out some large coins from his pocket.
"Are those...?" gasped Ginny, bewildered.
"Yep!" Harry nodded, smiling. "Do you remember, Hermione?"
"Of course I do!"
"What's this?" asked Draco, puzzled.
Harry handed out a coin to each of them. "These are coins that Hermione created in fifth year so that the members of Dumbledore's Army could communicate with each other," he replied. "I don't know why we didn't think of that earlier. I've reactivated them."
Blaise lifted his coin into the lantern light to examine it more closely. His name was carved on the back.
"He's still free," said Harry. "Merlin knows where. In case of emergency, anyone could call for help with these coins. If you feel it vibrate, you'll see the name of the person asking for help. It's for emergencies only, and no message will appear."
Hermione turned her own coin between her fingers and saw her name on the back.
"Hermione," Harry added, "you should always, always carry this coin with you. Especially you. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she agreed. "Thank you, Harry."
"Good job, mate!" congratulated Ron, stuffing the coin into his pocket.
"I'm... almost impressed, Potter," Draco said.
He stretched his arm behind Hermione and laid it against her, closing his hand over her shoulder to pull her closer to him. Immediately, she let herself slip into the proximity and the warmth that surrounded her. Barely two minutes later, it was McGonagall who came towards them, wrapped in a warm cloak.
"Mr. Malfoy, could you spare me a moment?" she asked.
Draco raised his eyebrows, but nodded and stood up. McGonagall led him aside and leaned in to speak to him, as if she were telling him a secret. Draco nodded and glanced at his partner. After a short while, McGonagall walked away and he came back to the others, looking at his watch.
"Fifteen minutes," he announced.
The minutes ticked by, happy and quiet, with no one counting except Draco, who kept looking at his watch. Five minutes before midnight they heard footsteps behind them and when Hermione turned around she saw Kingsley in his robes, McGonagall, all the Hogwarts teachers and seven Aurors, whom she recognised at once as the members of her brother's unit.
Draco took Hermione's hand. Kingsley stopped in front of her and waved.
"We are all gathered here to pay our last respects to our golden Auror Samuel Granger," he said solemnly, loud enough for all to hear. "A new year is about to begin. A new year without him. A new world is born every day for every person who has lost a loved one. May he hear, wherever he is, the cry of our hearts, the call of his unit, and the respect of his former teachers. May he see his partners, his friends, his family."
Hermione let her lips tremble and her heart quicken with emotion. A good emotion, soft and strong at the same time. Draco leaned over and kissed her forehead. She cowered in his arms and stood there, watching the Aurors form a first line, and the teachers a second one right behind.
McGonagall had asked Draco's permission just before. And he had agreed, feeling it would give Hermione some kind of closure. Somewhere inside him, he too wanted to pay his respects to Samuel Granger. He wanted to thank him for taking care of Hermione all these years.
"It's time," he whispered to the brunette as he peeled himself away.
He walked away towards the shore of the Lake, where all the fireworks were ready to be set off, taking Hermione behind him. Draco looked at his watch.
"One minute!" he exclaimed.
Blaise, Ginny, Ron and Harry had stayed behind, heads raised to the sky, wand in hand. The silence was solemn. When Draco began to count down, everyone joined in.
Ten!
Nine!
Eight!
Seven!
Six!
Five!
Four!
Three!
Two!
One!
The fireworks burst and raced towards the middle of the Lake, rising above the water into the darkness of the night. Everyone shouted "Happy New Year" as the fireworks exploded in a shower of light against the black sky. All the Aurors and teachers, including Kingsley and McGonagall, raised their wands and cast a spell into the sky. A few seconds later, a message formed from the fireworks' sparks and hung over the Lake, mirroring itself on the quiet water.
See you up there, Sam
Hermione let her tears flow freely, without sobbing. A new year. Without her brother. But surrounded by family and friends, brothers and sisters. Kingsley, the Auror unit, McGonagall and the Professors kept their wands raised to the sky, letting a spot of light shine at the tip of their wands. The same way they had done for Dumbledore. A salute. A farewell.
Ginny, Harry, Ron and Blaise imitated them and raised their wands in one motion. Hermione raised her wand, her face streaked with liberating tears, and gazed at the fireworks that continued to rain down over the Lake, and the farewell message that adorned the night sky. Draco was the last to raise his wand in salute.
Thank you, Sam, he thought. Thank you for protecting her all this time. Now it's my turn. I won't fail you.
Hermione's migraines were lessening and occurring more rarely. She and Draco spent most of their free time together, most of the time still within arm's reach. They continued to make their rounds, struggling terribly not to touch each other and to remain professional in case a student or professor popped up, but as soon as they crossed the threshold of their dorm, they returned to each other, magnetized. They exchanged nonsense, jokes, laughter, and pushed each other in their respective studies for their joint and separate classes. They challenged each other. They had a friendly rivalry with each other, but most of all, they admired each other. Hermione could finally admit that she herself would have made no other choice than Draco Malfoy as Head Boy. He fulfilled his responsibilities seriously and quickly, and he helped her complete hers when she lost focus.
A week passed and soon it was Friday, April 2nd, the day Hermione knew was their 'Valentine's Day' celebration. She didn't know what to expect. She didn't have any classes with the Slytherins on Fridays, so she had only seen Draco at lunch. When she returned to her dormitory after her last class of the afternoon, this time she found three red roses in the same vase that still held the one white rose, which had not withered. A small piece of parchment lay beneath the vase.
Granger,
I know you'd kick me in the shins if I told you our date was imminent. So let's say... 7pm. That'll give you time to finish your Arithmancy essay and get ready. Wear whatever you want, but I suggest something... nice. It is Valentine's Day, after all.
Meet me at the Quidditch field. Be hungry.
DLM
Hermione let out a small laugh, applied the same spell to the three red roses so they wouldn't wilt. Sighing, she looked at the clock above the fireplace. It was four o'clock. That gave her plenty of time, too much time, before she could finally see her partner again. Why the Quidditch field? Was he going to charm her with broom tricks? Why had he told her to wear something nice if she was going to fly?
Refusing to think about it too much, she took her homework out of her bag, her quills and parchments, arranged all her materials in front of her on the table, with the vase centered. She looked at all the small, neatly arranged items in front of her, placed her wand right on top of her parchment and dipped her quill into the inkwell. She continued her Arithmancy essay right where she had left off the day before.
The silence was heavy and if Hermione listened carefully she could swear she could hear the clock ticking.
At six o'clock sharp, the brunette decided to start getting ready. She hadn't decided what she was going to wear, but she showered, mentally sorting through the dresses she had. All dresses that Draco had rented. If she left out the green dress and the ochre dress she had already worn, she still had five choices. She got out of the shower and dried her hair with a spell. She would style it later.
She examined the five dresses. She wished she knew what he had in store for her. Maybe it would have helped her choose. He'd told her to be hungry, so were they going to eat? Or did he meant… another kind of hungry? On the Quidditch field, on top of that?
She opted for the only red dress there was. It was Valentine's Day, after all. The dress wasn't long but fell just above the knees. It was a slightly darker red, halfway between cherry and bust was covered with lace and came up to the neck, leaving her shoulders exposed. She knew Draco liked this style. In the back, a large circle left her skin bare.
Hermione applied a lipstick that brought out the fullness of her lips and decided to braid her hair into an elegant, loose French braid that she pulled over one shoulder. She slipped on red shoes, which fortunately did not have high heels, and grabbed a large woolen shawl and her wand. She left her dorm nervously and walked alone to the Hogwarts entrance, with only the sound of her soles clacking against the floor and the occasional conversation of two or three students. Heads turned as she passed, but she kept her head down as much as possible.
When she finally walked out of the castle at 6.50 p.m., it was almost dark and the last colours of the sky were disappearing on the horizon. She pulled her shawl tighter around her. One of the two Aurors guarding the doors came up to her at once.
"Miss Granger?"
She gasped and turned to look at the man in the Auror's uniform who was smiling kindly at her. He had to be over thirty, and he was very tall and broad-shouldered.
"Yes," she said.
"Mr. Malfoy asked me to accompany you to the Quidditch field," he said.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Asked or paid?" she joked.
The tall Auror shrugged in response and Hermione thought she saw a petty smirk on his face. Together they walked towards the Quidditch field.
"Are you going to stay with us all evening?" she asked shyly after a while.
"From afar, Miss. Only to keep watch."
"All right. Thank you."
Almost upon entering the Quidditch field, just before walking through the tunnel under the bleachers, Hermione turned to the Auror one last time. "Sir, do you have any details about… Duncan?"
"No, Miss... He hasn't been seen since your... incident. We believe he's using Polyjuice to blend in with the crowd."
Chills ran through Hermione's entire body and she shivered. If he was using Polyjuice then he could be anyone. The child buying a candy at Honeydukes, the wizard selling scrolls on Diagon Alley, the divorced Muggle woman walking her dog, the experienced Auror guarding the Hogwarts fields...
"Don't worry about tonight, Miss Granger," the Auror breathed. "You are safe. Just focus on tonight."
Hermione nodded and walked through the tunnel under the stands to the Quidditch field. The Auror followed her, but stayed back and unseen, remaining in the shadows. The Gryffindor stopped as soon as she absorbed the view, before starting to walk slowly towards the centre of the field again. Towards Draco.
A single table sat in the centre of the field and two chairs faced each other, separated by shiny cutlery and a fine and obviously expensive bottle of red wine. On the floor, several candles were scattered here and there to adequately illuminate the space. Other candles hung a metre above the table, similar to those in the Great Hall, their flames reaching for the darkening sky. A little apart, a slightly longer table was covered with cardboard boxes that Hermione knew were from Muggle restaurants. Take out food.
"Draco..." she huffed, hiding her open mouth behind her fingers. "You've got to be kidding!"
The Slytherin was dressed in a tight white shirt that cut his slim figure to perfection. Shiny shoes. Black trousers with a black leather belt. Hair combed, but just wild enough to make her want to clutch them with her fingers. He handed her a single red rose when she reached him.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Granger."
As soon as she took the rose between her fingers, he pulled her to him and placed a kiss on her cheek.
"You look amazing tonight," he said.
"You... You too," she replied, a little distracted by the table. "I can't believe this!"
He took her hand and guided her to the food table. "If I could only tell you how much the Muggles pissed me off to get this food. Well, probably because I had a bit of trouble counting Muggle money, but—"
"You... You went to London?" gasped Hermione, astonished.
"Yep. If you can't bring the witch to the restaurant, you bring the restaurant to the witch! But don't worry, everything's still warm."
He held out his wand to each of the dishes and each box opened in a single motion. Draco pointed to each of them.
"Okay, Miss Granger, here you have a... Greek lamb roast, here is... a cheeseburger and fries, here is what they called a Scissor salad, here is—"
"Caesar," corrected Hermione, pursing her lips to stop herself from laughing.
"Ah, Caesar!" said Draco, rolling his eyes. "Sounds the same. Okay, so a Caesar salad with grilled chicken, and here it's a meat pie, but frankly I have no idea what's in it, here it's... damn, that was a weird word, tortellini with bolognese sauce, and here, a seafood stew, and finally, I found something called vegetable chow mein. I don't know if I'm saying this last one right."
"It smells so good!" exclaimed Hermione as her stomach growled with appetite.
"I can see from your face that I've given you a lot of trouble by offering you more than one choice."
"Yes," she smiled. "But don't worry. It's... It's perfect."
She looked at all the dishes in front of her, still steaming, probably under a heating spell.
"Have you really tasted all these things before?" Draco asked, surprised.
"Yes! Not necessarily in these particular recipes, but I know the dishes. You?"
The young man scratched his head. "No, not really. But I really want to try the Scissor salad."
"Caesar."
"Oh please, let me call it Scissor for tonight," he joked.
Hermione laughed and Draco handed her his plate. "How about a bit of everything?" the Slytherin offered.
"Good idea! I bet I'm gonna eat more than you!"
"You're on, Granger."
They helped themselves to tiny portions of each dish and Draco carried the plates to their respective places. He pulled out Hermione's chair for her to sit and pushed it, a courtesy that charmed the Lioness. They ate cheerfully, and Draco tasted each of the dishes with curiosity. It wasn't bad. It was delicious, in fact. He had finally discovered what was in the meat pie and he was not impressed. The brunette kept a mental image of her partner, both hands on a cheeseburger, mouth wide open to take a huge bite. Draco Malfoy, a Muggle hamburger in his hand. One day, she would bring him to McDonald's.
She did eat a little more than him.
The Slytherin served them wine and lengthened the discussions. Conversation was easy with her. She listened attentively and asked intelligent questions. She rarely interrupted and apologised if she did so inadvertently. Draco drank her every word like an elixir, eager to hear her opinion on any subject. She had an opinion on everything. From the arrangement of furniture in their dorm to house-elves to Ministry of Magic laws. The Slytherin told her that he had succeeded in making his first Patronus and Hermione's expression turned so proud and happy that he felt himself blushing.
Gradually, their discussions became less heated and they spoke more seriously and intensely, elbows on the table, gazing at each other, sipping their glasses of wine slowly. Hermione had removed her shawl. She was comfortable, bathed in the warm glow of the candles, the proximity of Draco, and the warmth of the alcohol.
After a moment Draco pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in the palm of her hand. It was a folded parchment.
"What's that?" asked Hermione.
"Look at it."
The witch complied. No sound came from her mouth as she looked down at her own portrait, drawn with great skill and precision. It was her own face that flashed a shy smile back at her. Crazy curls framed her face. The knot of the tie tight on her neck. She looked up at her partner with bewildered eyes.
"Did… did you do this?" she breathed.
He nodded. "It's been months, actually," he admitted. "That's why the parchment is folded. I wanted to give it to you after the Christmas Ball, but... It's not perfect, I know."
Hermione frowned and hurriedly took Draco's hand from the table. "Nonsense!" she retorted. "It's perfect. You're very talented."
Draco felt himself blushing again and accepted her caress. The brunette placed the drawing on the table and continued to observe the many details and the precise ink strokes. No one had ever drawn her... Why did it seem so... intimate? So personal? So meaningful?
The Snake squeezed her hand and she looked up at him. He had a flirtatious smile on his face.
"I brought my broom," he said. "How about flying?"
Hermione had enjoyed the first — and only — flight she had shared with him months ago. A large part of her was reaching out to him to accept anything he offered. But instead, she bit her lip.
"Uh, I don't know..." she breathed, a little shyly. "I'm not properly dressed for—"
"Don't worry, it won't take long…"
The Gryffindor thought for a moment and couldn't resist any longer. Draco read in her eyes that she had already agreed. He got up from the table and began to put away the cutlery and dishes with wand movements. Hermione assisted him. When everything was put away, she put her hands on her hips.
"Are we leaving all this here? What do we do with all this food?"
Draco avoided looking her directly in the eye when he answered. "Don't be mad, but I've asked a kitchen elf to come and pick up the food."
Hermione opened her mouth immediately to protest, but Draco continued, faster than she could. "I told him he could share all this food with the other elves. They will have their own little feast tonight."
The Lioness raised her eyebrows and something in the depths of her heart liquefied and filled her with a sweet admiration for her partner.
"Oh..." she breathed. "All right. If... if he was okay with it."
"Granger, he was over the moon, I tell you!"
Draco walked over to his broom, which he had set down a little farther away. He straddled it, and invited Hermione in the same way he had done months before.
"Miss Granger," he invited.
Hermione climbed in front of him and the young wizard took off. They rose above the Quidditch field, letting the night wrap around them. The brunette clutched the handle in front of her and realised that she wasn't as scared as she was the first time. Draco had his arms around her, she could feel the tip of his nose against her shoulder sometimes. She was sure he could feel her. Every time she felt his lips on her skin, a pleasant shock went through her from head to toe. How good it was...
Once high enough, Draco stopped the climb and began to fly very slowly in a circle above the field. They let the silence and the wind soothe them for several minutes, enjoying the calm of the moment. When the Forbidden Forest came into view, the young man quietly pulled the broom to a halt and they hung in the air, wind in their hair.
"Are you alright?" asked Hermione, who couldn't see his face.
"It's just…" He sighed heavily.
"What's wrong?" she insisted.
"I've been thinking too much about that night in the Forest," he admitted, his tone serious. "I've spent weeks looking for him, and I feel like I haven't done enough."
"Draco..."
"That night he escaped because of me. I went after him and I could have caught him. But I stopped. I stopped, Hermione, and he escaped... Who knows what he's planning now?"
"You shouldn't torture yourself over—"
"It's my fault you're still in danger today," he growled, tightening his arms around her. "I was stupid. And I was stupid to leave you alone at the Ball. I fucking failed."
Hermione felt her heart drumming against her chest. Why was he bringing this up? Why was he blaming himself so much? She was the one who had been stupid that night. She didn't want her partner to torture himself so much over a situation he couldn't control.
"Stop thinking like that," she said through her teeth. "It's not your fault!"
"Remember how often I told you that I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, and that you were safe with me? I couldn't keep my promises and—"
"Draco," she snarled, now frustrated. "I can't believe you're talking like this! It's not your fault!"
Her partner said nothing, but she felt his chin rest against her shoulder. He sighed. Hermione swallowed back tears of frustration. They were having a perfect time. The evening had gone perfectly, and now he had decided to blame himself. He was ruining their evening. She wished she was facing him.
"Duncan's a psychopath," she spat bitterly. "You can't take it all on yourself. You think I'm not thinking about it too? Of course I'm thinking about it! I never once thought you had anything to blame yourself for!"
She was beginning to heat up and now she couldn't hold back the words that came out of her mouth, driven by disbelief and frustration. Draco felt her fidget in his arms.
"You did everything you could!" she continued, her throat tightening. "It wasn't you who lured me out of the Great Hall, it wasn't you who used Blaise to play with my mind, it wasn't you who tortured me in the Forest and burned me with cigarettes! It was not you who cut me, who made me bleed, who touched me vulgarly, it was not you who put me in a coma!"
Her words struck like a hammer into Draco's heart. Hearing what she had been through made him sick. He knew she didn't want him to feel guilty, but instead, his guilt increased.
"I couldn't even cast a single healing spell on you," he gasped.
"NO!" she cried vehemently. "That's enough, Draco! Why are you so stubborn? Why do you want to torture yourself so badly? It hurts me when you talk like that! Do you understand? Just because I love you doesn't mean I can let you treat yourself this way! It's not your fault. I beg you, stop!"
She continued to repeat words angrily, but the wizard was already no longer listening. Had he heard correctly? A great rush of joy came over him and he could not think any clearer. He began to fly again, this time faster, towards the Castle. He let Hermione continue her admonishments, with the single word 'love' in his head banging around like a weight. A wonderful weight. Redeeming.
Soon he arrived over the East Wing of Hogwarts and guided them to the window of their apartment. Luckily, his own bedroom window was open. He stopped right in front of it.
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Get down," he said.
"Down here?"
"Yes, here. Please."
The Lioness complied and swung her legs first over the edge of the window. Slowly she slipped through the opening and was relieved when her feet met the hard surface of the floor. A moment later Draco had also entered and had already put his broom in the corner.
"You said you loved me," he blurted out.
Hermione blinked. "What?"
"You said you loved me," he repeated quietly, his mind buzzing. His heart was beating wildly. Hermione did not move.
"No," she replied. "I didn't."
"Yes, you did. I heard you. You said, Just because I love you doesn't mean I can let you treat yourself this way."
The brunette racked her brain trying to figure out when she had said that. She couldn't remember. Had she really said that? Had she spoken before thinking? Or had she spoken without thinking? She shook her head, resolute. Draco took a long, hot breath. He couldn't stand it any longer, standing there with her lips so red, so rich, listening to her deny what she had said.
He took a step towards her, his face hard. "You said it without realising it," he grumbled. "Why can't you just admit it? Why can't you accept that this is how you feel?"
Hermione was about to retort that it wasn't how she felt, but she couldn't. In her head, everything was spinning. It was a total mess. He was driving her crazy.
"I told you I was going to give you time," he continued, "as long as it takes. I don't care about time. But I'm not going to stand here and watch you try to convince yourself that you don't love me!"
The brunette avoided his gaze, which was burning her too much. Her cheeks were on fire. Her dress was choking her. Why was she no longer able to reply? To contradict him?
"Just say it," he breathed. "Admit it. To yourself."
She bit her lip and took a step back, only to bump into Draco's dresser. She had no way out. The Slytherin let frustration tinge his voice. There was a look of betrayal on his face.
"Is it so hard to admit that you love me, Hermione?" he whispered, tone hurt. "I know I don't deserve it, but why can't you indulge it? Say something!"
Hermione shook her head and busied herself with looking at every object she could see to avoid looking into her partner's eyes.
"Look at me!" he said, almost pleadingly. "Say something!"
She looked at him, however, and saw the pain on his face. She broke her barriers at that moment.
"I can't," she whispered. "If I say it, if I admit it, then it's all too real…"
Draco took another step towards her. She continued. "And if it's all real, then the pain will be real. Then I'll lose you. Everyone I love is leaving me one way or another. And that's—"
Hermione swallowed hard at the knot in her throat. "It's like agony every time I think of the day I'll lose you," she said, her voice hoarser. "I can't stand it. I know you love me, but if I love you back... everything falls apart."
"No..." he whispered, taking another step towards her. "Everything falls together."
He was close enough for her to reach out and lay her hand on him. She was trembling. Slowly he placed his folded index finger under her chin and gently lifted her head so that she could look at him. They said nothing and clung to each other in an intermingled metallic and amber ocean. In the glare of the moonlight, which grew brighter and brighter, he could see the corners of her eyes filling with tears.
"I'm scared," she finally admitted, her breath shaking.
He leaned towards her. "I'm scared too," he huffed. "But this... us... here and now, this is all we have. You are all I have. If everything falls apart, if you jump, I'll catch you. You can jump. I love you, Hermione. I'll catch you."
The Lioness closed her eyes and let a single tear escape from her eyelid. Her tongue burned. Chills bit her. Anticipation, excitement, nervousness, fear, all mixed together in a terrible windy haze that she could not control. Jump. Jump, Hermione.
Just jump.
"I love you too," she whispered at last.
And everything fell apart just as it fell into place. Draco captured her lips gently, immediately sliding his hands over her waist, pushing his tongue into her mouth. He could breathe her, the essence of who she was. The warmth of her hair, the freshness of her mouth and tongue. They let their lips dance, and Hermione let him press her a little closer to him. She thought she would have been afraid because of the unwanted hands that already had touched her, but in the heat of that moment, it was easy to surrender to Draco completely and forget that it ever happened. His wanting hands were stitching her wounds.
Frantically, the witch put her hands on his chest and began to unbutton his shirt. Draco broke the kiss to watch her.
"Are you sure?" he breathed.
"Y-Yes," she answered breathlessly. "And we… we're safe. I'm taking a pill that acts like a Potion…"
Draco took her word for it. "And your head is fine?" he worried.
"Everything's perfect…"
They fell back into their kiss and Draco let her unbutton his shirt. She managed to remove it without ever interrupting their contact. She wanted to drink him in. She wanted to touch him. She wanted everything from him. More. More. Every one of her thoughts had fallen silent, as if under a spell. The blonde wizard, eager and seduced, slid his palms against her back and shuddered as he touched her bare skin. It was warm, soft, delicate. The morning dew on the grass. Like a light breeze at dusk.
Once Draco was shirtless, Hermione pressed her palms against his pristine chest, white under the moonlight, and reveled in his smooth skin. It wasn't until she pressed her hips against him that she realised Draco had pulled down the zip of her dress. He placed his hand against her thigh and squeezed hungrily, moving the stroke up to her arse. A growl of pleasure escaped the witch's throat, sending a divine twist to Draco's crotch.
He pulled away from her to nuzzle in the crook of her neck, parting his lips to taste the sugar of her skin with the tip of his tongue. She still tasted like the night wind, lace and vanilla. He let out a hoarse grunt when he heard the brunette moan, almost inaudible. He was convinced she was begging for him. Her whole body was calling to him. Screaming for him.
He nibbled on her earlobe and let Hermione dig her nails into the flesh of his shoulders. The sensations were pure heaven. Transcendent. Hermione felt as if he had five hands, and each one was attacking a different part of her body and making her quiver with delight.
"You're all I have," she heard him whisper into her collarbone.
Hermione felt her skin turn cold as the robe slipped from her shoulders and fell to her feet. Her breasts were bare, exposed, and she stopped herself from covering herself out of modesty and embarrassment. She let her partner's gaze wander over her for a few moments, while he absorbed her, soaking up the sight. His cock hardened radically as he looked down at her breasts, their perfect shape and their sharp tips pointing like two crisp cherries.
He hurriedly placed his hands against her breasts and let his cock slowly rise in his trousers. He tweaked her firm tits between his thumb and forefinger and Hermione threw her head back, spine arched, as if she were offering him more of herself. This… This felt fucking right. Letting herself think about who was doing this to her, she allowed herself to moan as he continued to tweak her excitedly. Finally, he brought one hand up to her face to capture her lips with his own, and brought his other hand down just above the barrier of her panties. He held it up at her navel, as if hesitating, as if asking her permission.
"Oh..." Hermione moaned, "oh... do it."
She ran her fingers through his hair and clutched a handful of his blonde hair in her hand. "Do it, Draco."
Her voice was hoarse, shaped by lust. She could feel the moisture welling up between her legs. Draco pushed his hand under her panties and gently ran his fingertip against her slit. Wet. Really wet. He pressed his hipbone and cock harder against her thigh. Slowly he began to stroke her clit with an expert finger and Hermione felt her knees buckle. She dove against her partner's neck and slid her teeth, her tongue, her lips against his skin. The pleasure pulsed through her like a hot air balloon and consumed her as Draco dexterously aroused her.
"More," she rasped, "more..."
Draco, more than happy to comply with her request, pushed a finger inside her and pumped gently. Hermione let out a moan, her breath coming in quick gasps. The Slytherin's breathing quickened with his movements. He felt her liquefy under him. He was climbing towards his peak, hot and wild.
After a moment, he thrust a second finger inside her and rested his second hand on her breast to knead her feverishly. She felt like a clay vessel being shaped by his sculptor's hands. He pumped her more and more wildly, and almost whimpered when he felt her wet up his knuckles. He could feel her inner walls clutching his fingers, eager to welcome him. He wanted more. More…
Hermione bucked her hips towards him and didn't realize that she was letting her hips roll against him, so that he would touch a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster. Wanting to keep her from climaxing against his dresser, Draco put his hands under her arse and she hopped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He buried his head between her breasts and kissed everything his mouth could reach, guiding her to his bed.
He threw her gently onto the mattress and admired her for a few moments, wallowing naked before his eyes, bathed in moonlight. She was magnificent. He reached for his belt buckle and pulled it off in a flash. He let his trousers fall to his ankles and pulled himself out of his boxers. Now revealed before her, Hermione admired his whole body and his stiff, erect limb. Upright for her. Because of her.
Draco climbed onto the bed, on top of her, and walked on his knees and palms until his face was above the Gryffindor's. He leaned over, his chest pressed against her breasts, and planted a kiss on her lips.
"Are you still sure?" he breathed. "Is this what you want?"
"Yes," she said, caressing his face. "Don't hold back."
He began to pull off her panties, sliding them down her thighs, knees, shins, then ankles. He threw them somewhere. He admired her crotch for a moment, opened to him like a delicate rose coated with wet dew that was just waiting to be plucked. Immediately he returned to her face and wedged his lips between hers to kiss her passionately. She writhed beneath him, eager to receive him. He dragged his hand over her slit once more and found that she was still wet as ever. He smiled with satisfaction and positioned himself.
Hermione dug her fingernails into his shoulders just as he was about to enter her, and Draco paused to watch her carefully.
"It's your first time, isn't it?" he guessed.
She nodded, a little shy, but Draco bent over her and stroked her head with his hand.
"Tell me when to stop," he whispered. "Any time."
She nodded and he kissed her again to reassure her. He kept one hand steady against his cock to move against her opening and when he was positioned, he thrust slowly into her. A pained wail escaped the brunette in shock, but Draco didn't move to give her time to adjust and get used to his presence. He brought his hand to her and caressed her breast, starting to flick her nipple once more. He continued to kiss her, swirling his tongue with hers in a frantic dance, more languid with each passing second. A real kiss. An elixir.
Hermione focused on the arousing sensations he was bringing to her lower abdomen each time he tweaked the tip of her breast between his fingers. The moment he lowered his mouth to her chest, another barrier broke inside her and she let herself sink into the warm, wet pleasure of Draco's mouth sucking hard on her nipple. She could feel her crotch burning with arousal and moistening up. She needed him to push, to thrust, to ride her.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Draco began to slowly move his hips back and forth, and Hermione bucked under the pain of the passage he was enlarging inside her. Gradually a real sense of elation coursed through her and twisted her stomach. She was savoring having him inside her.
"Don't stop," she begged, moaning. "Keep going..."
She clutched at his hair and pulled his head to her chest, so that he could take more of her, devour her, breach her. The Slytherin, coated by her wetness as it slid against him, let his pleasure surge inside him and swell his cock. He picked up the pace, and let his throat growl dully each time he went deeper. He took his mouth off her tit and watched her squirming under him, climbing higher. Her eyes closed, she was biting her lip and letting her jerky breaths punctuate her moans, louder and louder, more and more pleading. Seeing her like this doubled his thrill and he felt dangerously close to sliding into his void.
"Faster," she whispered, panting and quivering. "Please, faster..."
He grunted, exhilarated by her demands, and quickened his thrusts, keeping his gaze on her, as she moved along with him. Her breasts bounced with the frantic back and forth of his pelvis. He grabbed her hips and squeezed them, absorbing the sight of the naked goddess twitching with pleasure. Her breasts bouncing, nipples dark and hard, her choppy breathing panting with the same rhythm of his thrusting, her hips bucking.
And when he felt the muscles of her thighs stiffen against him, he was on the verge of his brink. He carried on relentlessly with his rhythm, and read the perfect exhilaration on her face as it climaxed inside her. And when she began to moan his name, pleading, in a voice increasingly high and ecstatic, her legs began to rise, spreading a little more. She was offering herself to him, fragile and wet, and Draco, burning with pleasure, rubbed a finger over her moistened clit as he kept thrusting in and out with glee. Hermione let out a cry of passion at the touch of his finger against her hot core, while her walls were clutching hard on his cock
And finally Hermione orgasmed, gripping the sheets between her fingers and letting out a liberating moan, toes curled, allowing herself to be swamped by the exhilarating climax that electrified her. The pleasure continued when Draco, a few pumps of his pelvis later, came inside her and she felt the heat of his sperm coating her insides. Breathless, he dropped to his elbows and did not withdraw immediately. He remained pressed against her for a few moments, and Hermione opened her eyes to look into his.
Slowly he pulled away from her and lay down beside her, head resting on his palm, elbow bent. Hermione's chest continued to heave rapidly under her quickened breath, and when Draco leaned in, palm against her cheek, to draw her to him in a quiet, languid kiss, she gave in completely and wrapped herself around him. They stayed pressed together for long minutes, kissing, caressing, keeping alive the flames of their desire that continued to burn between them.
"If you think I'm done with you," he murmured against her mouth after a moment.
She stepped back slightly and looked at him, mouth half-open. A new twinge tickled her lower abdomen. Merlin, what he was doing to her...
"What do you want to do?" she asked.
Without saying a word, he rolled off and sat on his knees. He spread her legs with both hands and looked at her with lust, delight and greed. He placed several kisses on her leg, moving further and further down her centre.
"Oh, Draco..." Hermione gasped.
He dipped his head into her crotch and opened his mouth, sliding his hot tongue against her clit, and as he began to suck on her, Hermione tipped over again and forgot herself completely.
"The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, or into the air all round him. She had become a physical necessity."
George Orwell, 1984
oOoOoOoOoOo
Yes, yes, a thousand times yes ! We have reached this milestone! I wonder if you were expecting it soon. In any case, you got served and I hope you enjoyed it. I've got to be honest, this was the first time that I've written smut in my life. I was really shy, and I'm still feeling very shy and embarrassed to show it to everyone, but I guess that's part of being a writer.
You must have noticed that I've tried something new with this chapter : I've inserted an image (Draco's note). I thought it created a nice touch, but I'm not sure how the result turns out when you read on your phone. Can you guys tell me if it's okay or if you'd rather have no image and simple text? A simple comment for your opinion will help. If you like it, I might change all the other parchments notes in the story for "images". If not, we'll go back to text without problem.
On another note, I have rewritten the first few chapters. I never like them. I'm sure you can see the huge difference between the original chapters and the ones that are now uploaded. If you want to jump back to the beginning, you can read chapters 1-3, if you like. They do not affect the story, they are just more complete, plump, and emotional!
I've also created a Spotify playlist to listen to with IVCB. The vibes of some songs just fit so well with some scenes : playlist/5d9lkLfm3otwkPidcGgXqv?si=12485743b72f4a09
It's pretty sure now that Chapter 40 will be the last chapter, and 41 will be the Epilogue. How do you feel so close to the end?
Love, Axiomea