Staring into the closet, Hermione fretted over what to wear. That evening would be her first time seeing Molly and Arthur since she had fled to the states. She was nervous about to what to expect, at least from Molly. Arthur was an understanding man and she didn't expect him to hold a grudge against her. Molly could be slightly more stubborn, especially when it came down to someone hurting a member of her family.
Hermione finally settled on a yellow sundress and heeled, white sandals. She grabbed a white cardigan, for when the sun went down. The humidity had finally moved out, allowing milder temperatures to set in. She pulled one side of her hair back in a flower clip and kept her makeup simple- a quick swipe of eyeshadow and her favorite cherry lip gloss.
Harry was in his office, catching up on some last minute paperwork, before dinner. Ginny was curled up on his couch, reading a book. They both glanced up when Hermione peeked her head in.
"I'm going to head to The Burrow a little early," Hermione informed. "I'll see you guys there, okay?"
"Sure," Ginny answered, her brow furrowing. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I thought I'd pop in early and feel out your mum's temperament. That way, if she wants to murder me she can get it over with first thing and not have to ruin the dinner."
Harry rolled his eyes and Ginny smiled. "I've told you, my mum has nothing against you. She loves you and asks about you all the time. I know she'll be ecstatic to see you. Go on, we'll be there soon."
Hermione nodded and headed for the front yard. She apparated to the end of The Burrow's dirt lane. Pausing for a moment, Hermione gazed up at the multi-storied cottage that had once been her second home. From the outside, it looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen it; slightly leaning in places, with various chimneys piercing the sky, and candlelight softly illuminating the windows. She could hear the small babbling creek, flowing in the distance, mingling with clucking chickens. The breeze brought promise of steak and kidney pie in the oven.
Hermione's stomach rumbled. It had been so long since she'd had a proper steak and kidney pie. She had tried to recreate the dish in New York, but could never cook one to rival her former mother in-law's.
With a deep breath, Hermione held her head up high and started striding up the lane. Making her way to the back garden, she saw three enlarged picnic tables, cloaked in red linen tablecloths. She spied a few fat gnomes, waddling out from underneath the tables, only to jump into the middle of a thick rhododendron bush. The sounds of clanging pots and Molly's humming floated from the house.
The top half of the Dutch door was wide open. Hermione timidly approached it, softly rapping three times. Molly's humming ceased as she leaned around the corner.
"Oh my stars!" Molly cried, wiping soap suds on her apron. "Since when does Hermione Granger knock at this house? Come in dear, come in!"
Hermione hesitantly opened the door and stepped into the warm kitchen. She was instantly engulfed by Molly's tight embrace. Flooded with relief, Hermione wrapped her arms around Molly's waist and placed her chin on Molly's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, tears creeping into her eyes.
"Whatever for sweetheart?" Molly asked, leaning back to peer into Hermione's eyes.
"For…everything, I guess."
Molly led her to the kitchen table and coaxed her into a chair. She summoned a pitcher of water and poured out a glass, sliding it into Hermione's hand.
"There's nothing to apologize for," Molly insisted, sliding into the seat across from Hermione.
"But there is." Hermione took a sip of her water and swiped the tears from her eyes. "I shut you guys out and I shouldn't have," she admitted. "I got your letter, shortly after I moved. I wanted to write you back, but I didn't know what to say. I kept telling myself to write back, write back! But eventually I left it too long and it got to the point where I felt it would be silly to write back. I've gotten pretty good at talking myself in circles, without coming to any productive resolutions."
"I'm glad you're here now," Molly said, gently, cupping Hermione's hand in hers. "No matter where you go, you'll always be part of this family. Whether you're married to one of our sons, or not, nothing will ever change that."
"Thank you," Hermione whispered, smiling back at Molly's comforting face. "I've been so scared to come back and face everyone. I was so sure everyone hated me."
"Nonsense, dear." Molly grinned and kissed Hermione's forehead. She stood and started to return to her preparations.
"Can I help with anything? I've gotten pretty good at cooking."
"Would you like to take charge of the potatoes?"
"Sure. Are we roasting, mashing, baking?" Hermione summoned the basket of scrubbed potatoes and a vegetable peeler.
"We have enough there for you to do whatever your heart desires."
Hermione started peeling some and setting them aside for mashing. Others got cut up and sprinkled with salt, pepper, and oil for roasting. The remaining spuds simply got speared with a fork, to be baked for jacket potatoes. As she was sliding the last tray of roast potatoes into the oven, the sound of the door made her jump. She looked back to see Ron standing in the doorway, staring at her.
"Hello, Ron," she greeted, cordially.
"Hi. You all right?" Ron stiffly replied.
"Yes, thanks. And you?" He nodded his reply. "I just stopped by early to help your mum with last minute preparations."
Ron continued to stare, not responding, before turning his attention to his mother. "Anything left to do in the yard?"
"Your father is supposed to be setting the tables, but I think he snuck off to his workshop. Would you mind, dear?" Molly handed him a stack of plates, heaped with cutlery and white, linen napkins. "Thank you," she called, as Ron backed out the door.
Hermione waited until he was out of earshot before saying, "I was surprised to find out he wouldn't be Harry's best man. I offered to step down as maid of honor, but Ginny wasn't having it."
"Quite right," Molly replied, transferring chopped carrots into a bowl of lettuce. "If Ronald wants to throw a temper tantrum, that's his business. Don't you think you need to change to accommodate his insecurities."
"Harry seemed pretty disappointed. I have a feeling Ron doesn't realize how much it meant to him."
"I think what upsets Ron most now is who Harry chose as his replacement," Molly grumbled, her expression hardening.
"Yeah, I figured Draco's choosing ruffled a few feathers." Hermione started slicing up a watermelon, lining the triangular pieces up, on white serving platter. "He's not that bad, though."
"Oh, not you too!" Molly said, exasperation heavy in her voice.
"I wasn't thrilled when I found out about it either, but I can see that he's obviously changed in the last five years since I saw him. He's still a bit of a smug arse." Hermione looked up and met Molly's amused look with one of her own. "But, you can't deny that he clearly cares for Harry and Ginny. And in the end, that's what matters."
Molly's expression finally softened and Hermione saw her let out a deep breath. "Still as level headed and logical as ever, aren't you?" she laughed, kissing Hermione's forehead.
"I have my moments, I guess."
"Mémé Molly!" a voice screamed. Bill and Fleur's daughter, Victoire, burst through the door and launched herself into Molly's arms.
"Hello, darling!" Molly cooed, squeezing the little girl tight.
"Where's Freddy?" Victoire demanded.
"I'm sure he'll be along soon, with Uncle George and Aunt Angie. Do you remember Auntie Min?" Molly asked, pointing to Hermione.
Hermione smiled at the appraising blue eyes. Victoire had only been two when Hermione left, so she was surprised when the little one answered, "Yes, she's married to Uncle Ron."
"She used to be, chéri," Bill gently explained, bouncing the new baby, Dominique, on his hip. "Auntie Min moved to the big city, remember?"
"Paris?"
Hermione giggled and knelt down to Victoire. "No, I live in New York City now. All the way over in America."
"Oooh," Victoire thought for a moment and then asked, "Wanna go catch gnomes?"
"I would love to," Hermione answered, accepting the small hand that reached out to her.
Outside, Victoire scrambled up and over the stone border wall and jumped into the orchard. "Come on!" the little voice shrieked, darting off into the trees. Carefully pulling herself over the wall, Hermione stumbled her landing before hurrying to catch up.
Hermione followed the gleaming head of white blonde hair through the apple and pear trees. Every few feet, Victoire would stop and try to snag a passing gnome. She'd giggle like mad when they would squeak and scurry up the tree.
"Psst," Hermione whispered, waving Victoire to her. She bounded back until she was right beside Hermione. "Can I show you a secret?" Victoire nodded, eagerly. "The best way to catch a gnome is to sit still and pretend like you're sleeping. They get very curious, and will come right up to you."
Victoire plopped down in the grass and dirt, her legs spread in front of her. She placed her hands on the ground and closed her eyes. Hermione smiled, studying the child's delicate features that mirrored her mother's, though the little girl's mannerisms were anything but delicate. Kneeling down, careful not let her dress drag in the dirt, Hermione closed her eyes, peeking out one of them every few seconds.
It didn't take long before a tiny gnome approached Victoire, and started climbing up her leg. Hermione heard her let out a little gasp, but Victoire didn't move. She let the gnome climb up onto her lap and giggled when it burrowed into the pocket of her skirt. Slowly standing up, the girl's eyes and smile were wide.
"I caught one, Auntie Min!" Victoire whispered excitedly.
"Victoire! Hermione!" Harry's voice called, through the trees.
"I think dinner is ready."
"I'm gonna show my gnome to Freddy!" Victoire cried, sprinting back for the house. At the wall, Hermione lifted her up and Victoire jumped down, against the pleas of her parents. "Look, Freddy, look! Auntie Min taught me how to catch gnomes!"
A little dark haired boy ran up to Victoire, peeking into her pocket. "Will you teach me, Vicky?"
"You have to pretend to be asleep," Victoire instructed, very matter of factly.
"Of all the things you could have taught her," Bill grumbled, watching the two kids huddled together.
Hermione grinned as she went to the kitchen. She washed up and helped Molly carry out all the food to a buffet table. Before the last dish hit the tabletop, a rush of people descended on the food. Hermione squeezed her way out and went to grab the last plate left on the picnic tables. A flash of white blond hair stuck out like a sore thumb amidst a sea of red.
Draco was standing at the edge of the group, beside Harry. Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, knowing she would have to swallow her stubborn pride and apologize to him that evening. She decided to wait until after the excitement of dinner calmed down.
She noticed, during dinner, Draco acted a bit awkward, like he wasn't quite certain of his place. He spoke amicably with some of the Weasleys, but appeared surprised and overwhelmed at Molly's niceties. She assumed that he, like her, had expected a cold welcome for past transgressions.
After dinner, the bridal party gathered with their desserts, to discuss Ginny's hen night. Besides Hermione, the other bridesmaids included Fleur, Angelina, Luna, and two fellow Harpy players- Gwenog Jones and Alicia Spinnet, It seemed like everyone had their own idea on what to do. Hermione tracked down a quill and some parchment, and dug her glasses from her purse.
She wrote down every suggestion thrown at her, from Quidditch match to dance clubs. Eventually she sighed, dropped her quill, and asked, "What do you want to do, Gin?"
Being the only one at the table privy to the baby news, Hermione wanted to get a beat on what her friend would be most comfortable with, knowing that drinking would be out of the question for her.
"I'm not too keen on going to a quidditch match," Ginny started. Hermione said a silent thank you, as that idea had not been at the top of her list either. "The game takes up all my days, I want to have a fun night with my girls. I do like Luna's idea of going to the theater, but a night to let loose in a dance club sounds fun too."
"Let's combine some of these ideas then," Fleur proposed. "How about we find a fancy restaurant, for an early dinner. Then we can go catch a show. After that, we can go find a club where we can dance and drink until we can't feel our feet."
Hermione glanced at Ginny and watched her toil with the idea. Slowly nodding, Ginny replied, "That sounds really good. I love it!"
"All right then. I know what my job is this week," Hermione declared. "Does next week, Friday, work for everyone?" After a chorus of affirmations, Hermione jotted down notes on what she needed to look into. A sudden squeal drew their attention to the furthest picnic table.
Bill and George sat across from their children, with globs of chocolate pudding running down their faces. Victoire and Freddy dissolved into a fit of giggles.
"Do you know how long it's been since I've had a night out?" Angelina muttered. The group shook their heads. "Neither do I. I need this hen night." She grabbed a napkin and went to help clean up her husband.
The others dispersed, leaving Hermione and Ginny at the table, to go over details.
"They're going to expect you to have a few drinks," Hermione warned, in a hushed tone. "How are you with pretending to be pissed?"
"As long as I have you helping me disguise my drinks, I've got it covered," Ginny assured. "Thanks for taking care of everything."
"You know me. I thrive on planning and organization."
Ginny laughed and left the table to go find Harry. Hermione sighed, folding up the parchment and stuffing it in her bag. She spotted Draco, alone in a lawn chair, nursing a beer. Hermione went over and sat down in the chair next to him.
"Granger," he acknowledged, not looking directly at her.
For a second, Hermione debated on the merits of being a coward and just running away. That wouldn't be very Gryffindor-like though. She forced herself to stay put, knowing she owed him an apology.
"I know I'm not exactly the person you want to see at the moment," Hermione started. "But I wanted to say two things to you before the night ends." Draco finally looked at her, without saying anything else, so Hermione proceeded. "First, I'm sorry for the way I treated you yesterday. You didn't deserve it." Hermione took a deep breath before adding, "And also, thank you."
Draco raised his eyebrows and said, "For what?"
Hermione dropped her gaze to her legs and watched as a beetle started climbing up one.
"For staying with me when I asked," she finally answered. "It's not often I sleep well, and it seemed that not being alone helped me relax. I know I'm not your first choice to share a bed with, but I appreciate the kindness."
Hermione kept her eyes on the beetle, now tickling across her knee. She blinked back tears, looking closely at the black bug. Draco's hand suddenly appeared, flicking the insect into the night. As he withdrew his arm, the back of his hand grazed her knee and sent shivers down her spine.
"I never thought I'd live to see a day where I got both an apology and a thank you, from Hermione Granger," Draco commented. "All in one night, no less."
"Yeah, well a lot has changed in five years," she remarked, standing up and finally looking at Draco.
"It has."
Hermione bit her lip, nodded, and turned away. Suddenly feeling suffocated by the large group, Hermione started for a trail that led to the nearby pond. As the pond came into view, the voices faded into the distance. She crawled onto a nearby rock and slipped her shoes off, letting her toes skim the surface of the water.
The night had gone better than she expected. A few times, she had lost herself in the familiar company, forgetting that any time had actually passed since their last gathering. But then there were moments where reality hit her hard, reminding her of what she had let go of and what she could've had. Draco's words rang in her head and found he was right- facing your demons hurt like hell.
The sound of twigs snapping caused Hermione to gasp and quickly draw her wand.
"Gonna hex me now?" Ron's voice called. His figure came into clear view as he walked along the water's edge, towards her.
"Wouldn't be the first time it's crossed my mind," Hermione muttered to herself, dropping her wand back to her side.
"I saw you run off, after talking to Draco, and wanted to make sure you were all right," Ron said, stopping right beside the rock Hermione was sat on.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Hermione assured. "I just had to apologize to him. Then the group of people got to be a bit much, so here I am."
"Apologize? To Malfoy?" Ron spat. "What on earth would you have to apologize to that prat for."
"Because I was actually the one being a prat. Not that it's really any of your business."
"You're best just staying away from him altogether," Ron warned, kicking a stone into the pond and sending ripples across the water.
"Thanks, but seeing as though I'm a fairly intelligent adult, I'm pretty sure I can make my own decisions about who I interact with."
"I didn't mean it that way," Ron snapped. "But, it's Malfoy. The boy that called you mudblood and let Death Eaters into our school! The one who was supposed to kill Dumbledore!"
"I'm not stupid Ronald. I haven't forgotten the past," Hermione growled, pushing herself from the rock. "As much as I've been trying not to, I remember everything!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It doesn't matter, really, does it? You'll take it the wrong way, no matter how I mean it." Hermione picked up her shoes and started to stalk off.
"It didn't have to be this way you know!" Ron called after her. "You're the one that left."
Hermione's blood boiled over and she stomped back until she was directly in front of Ron.
"And what way would you have preferred it Ronald? You and I continuing with our farce of a marriage, fighting and throwing shit at each other? You might have been happy to prattle on like that, but I needed more! I couldn't stand the sight of you and your touch repulsed me. That's not how you're supposed to feel about your husband!"
"So, what, now you're just going to move on to Malfoy?"
"Do you have a fucking filter in your head Ronald Weasley?" Hermione screamed, frustrated beyond belief. "What, or who, I do now is none of your business. You're called an ex-husband for a reason! You have EXITED my life." Resisting the urge to kick him in the shin, Hermione turned and ran back to The Burrow.
As she came into the garden, she was met with a few quizzical looks and assumed her yelling had reached the party. Hurriedly assuring Ginny and Molly that she was fine, she said good night and promised Molly that she would be back for another visit soon. Without speaking to anyone else, Hermione hurried down the dirt path and into the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.
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Well, he had made it through the evening without being cursed by a Weasley. Draco felt comfortable putting that down as a win. And, as an added bonus, Hermione Granger had come down off her high horse and not only apologized, but thanked him for the evening of the stag night. He felt a bit guilty putting that in the win column, though. It had been satisfying at first, but watching her wander off into the dark field, alone and melancholy, dampened his high.
And now, he had sat for the last five minutes listening to distant arguing. Weasley had gone off, after Hermione, and it appeared that he had found her. A shrill scream turned the heads of the others guests and Harry darted for the trail.
"Potter, wait," Draco called. Harry slowed and looked back at Draco, confused. "Granger and Weasley are just having a row. I'd give them a minute or two before trying to interfere."
Harry slowly walked away, glancing back at the trail every few seconds. As Draco had predicted, a minute later Hermione came barreling up the trail. She quickly slowed when everyone looked at her, but said nothing and beelined for the kitchen. He heard her say a muffled goodbye to Ginny and Molly. Then, without another word to anyone else, she reemerged and walked off down the lane.
Just as Hermione was swallowed up in the darkness, Ron came stomping out of the field. He glared at Draco, but, like his sparring partner, said not a word and went inside the house.
"I think this is my cue to bugger off," Draco sighed to himself. He found Arthur and Molly and thanked them for the food and hospitality. After bidding farewell to Harry and Ginny, Draco set off down the path. Instead of apparating back home, he took his time and walked the short length of road into the small town.
Ottery St. Catchpole didn't play host to much. He knew a couple of wizarding families lived on the outskirts and there were a few small muggle shops in the village square. Draco took a quick look around. All the storefronts had been closed up for the evening. His gaze rested on a small pub that was still lit up, with a low rumble of voices emanating from it. He made his way into the pub and had his suspicions confirmed.
"Could I get a bourbon, on the rocks," Draco requested, at the bar. "And also another of whatever the brunette in the corner is having." The bartender poured out a generous tumbler of bourbon and then, to Draco's amusement, poured out a quick shot of tequila. Draco laid a few muggle bills on the counter and nodded, saying, "Much appreciated."
After weaving through a few other swaying patrons, Draco slid into the curved booth beside Hermione. She was rolling an empty shot glass between her palms and didn't look up when Draco sat down.
"I won't lie, Granger. I didn't take you for a tequila connoisseur," he quipped, pushing the fresh shot to her.
"You know Malfoy, the point of coming to a muggle bar is to get away from wizards," Hermione muttered. She rolled her empty glass away and accepted Draco's offering. "How'd you find me anyway? Put a tracking spell on my sweater?"
Draco's lips twitched upwards as he watched her toss back the shot and bite into a lime wedge. He was starting to think there was more to this girl than the swotty one he remembered from Hogwarts. She sank back, into the faux leather cushioning, and gave him a blank stare.
"I didn't hear you apparate," Draco replied. "Figured you wouldn't have walked too far in those heels. What's brought you here?" As if he didn't already know that answer.
"Well, before I try to face my demons, I thought I would attempt to drown them and then have them shagged out of me."
"No offense to these fine people, but I don't think you're gonna find a decent shag here, darling"
"I thought he had some potential." Draco followed Hermione's nod to a man in the corner, playing Snooker.
"Oh, you mean the balding guy, with an overbite? Yes, I can see the appeal in that one." Draco raised his glass to Hermione and took a sip.
"You're right. Might need another shot to get through that one." Hermione signaled to the bartender for another drink, before turning back to Draco. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Thought I would pop in and remind you that your ex-husband is an arse and you can do much better than him. He's a fool for letting someone so pretty and intelligent slip away."
"You think I'm pretty?" Hermione teased, arching her eyebrows.
"You're better than that, Granger."
"Than what?"
"Fishing for shallow compliments."
"You're the one offering up the shallow compliment," Hermione countered, throwing back her third shot. She bit into another lime and sucked out the juice in a way that gave Draco goosebumps.
"I mean that standards of beauty always seemed to come last for you. I didn't know you very well in school, of course, but I know that you prided yourself on more important qualities." Draco swirled his drink, clinking the ice cubes together. "That's besides the point. Why do you let him get to you so easily?"
Hermione groaned and shook her head. She yanked a flower clip from her hair and tossed it on the table, so she should run her hand through her hair.
"It's because he thinks he still knows me so well. There was a time when he knew me better than anyone, but I've changed quite bit in the last two years and he knows virtually nothing about my life anymore. He doesn't know the shit I've gone through, mentally and physically. He doesn't know what new insecurities he left me with and how I doubt all of my decisions now. I used to think of myself as strong and independent. I helped win a war, for fuck's sake! Somehow, over the years, he's taken that away from me and, yet, he still has the balls to think he can tell me what to do!" Hermione was breathing hard, hands clenched on the edge of the table.
"What's he trying to tell you to do?"
Hermione looked at him, a smug smile spreading over her face. "He told me I should stay away from you."
"That would explain the death stare I got." Draco grinned and downed the last of his drink. "To his credit though, that is good advice."
Hermione ran a finger over the rim of her shot glass and blew a wisp of hair from her face. Draco got the feeling she hadn't shared her whole story with him the other evening. He wasn't about to press her for information, but he could see it hurt her, and that Ron was oblivious to whatever it was. Slowly he reached over and placed his hand on her clenched fingers. The action must have startled her because she jerked her hand away.
"Can I show you something?" he asked. Hermione nodded and Draco started to undo the cuff of his left sleeve. He rolled the sleeve up to his elbow, exposing a harsh red and lumpy scar that covered most of his forearm.
"Is that where…" Hermione trailed off, raising her hand as if she was about to touch it, but then quickly retracting her fingertips.
"You can touch it. It doesn't hurt." Hermione gently ran her fingertips over the scarred landscape, and Draco let his arm relax a little at her touch."I had the Ministry remove it as soon as I could. They ended up having to slowly burn layers of skin away until I was left with this."
"Surely someone from St. Mungo's could fix it, so that it didn't leave such a nasty scar."
"It was dark magic, bound to leave a scar. But, yes, I could have had it fixed up so that it wasn't quite so noticeable. I don't want to though."
"Why not?"
"It's a reminder of why I am, who I am, today," Draco replied, rolling his sleeve back down. "It shows me how far I've come and what I never want to go back to. It reminds me of why it's for the best that I keep my distance from my father. It's part of who I am, whether I like it or not. Trying to fix it up so that it's smooth and nice feels like I'm trying to smooth over my past mistakes, and I'm not. The past happened. I can't change that. But I remember it, and make myself better because of it."
"Whatever you have in your past isn't going to change, Granger. You can run from it, drown your sorrows, and shag yourself silly. But it'll always be there. Figure out how you can use it to make you better. As for Ron…he can't take anything away from you if you don't let him."
Hermione sat and stared at him, studying his face. Her own was passive and unblinking. Draco couldn't get a read on what was going through her mind. Which is why he was so shocked when she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him forward, until his lips met hers.
Her lips were warm and smooth. Draco didn't even realize he had parted his own, and invited her in, until her tongue caressed his. He could taste the bitter tequila and sour citrus, somehow mingled with sweet cherry. Hermione's tongue explored the crevices of his mouth, while her hands rose from his collar to his neck and into his hair.
Draco groaned and reluctantly pulled away. "You don't want to do this, Granger."
"How come?" she asked breathlessly, her hands still in his hair.
"I'm not a relationship kind of guy. Never been good with feelings, and I don't want to hurt you."
"Who said anything about a relationship? All I want is a good shag. And, as you kindly pointed out, the crowd tonight don't exactly look like headboard rattlers." Hermione pursed her lips and let her fingers skim along his ears. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Draco quelled it with another kiss, this time more forceful. He pushed her against the back of the booth and let his own tongue do some exploring. She nibbled on his bottom lip and Draco moaned in anguish. Part of him was screaming that to move forward would be a horrible decision. A larger part of him drowned out those screams in a desire to take her right there and then, in the pub booth.
"Plus," Hermione whispered, licking his upper lip on her last syllable. "It'll piss Ron off to no end if he finds out."
And there was the clincher. Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the booth, throwing a few extra pounds on the table. He led the way out of the pub and found a dark alley way.
"I'd prefer to go somewhere a little more private," Hermione sniffed, warily glancing at the overturned dustbins and dirty building walls.
"For fuck's sake, Granger. We're not going to do it here, like a couple of bloody strays," Draco growled. "I just wanted a safe place to apparate. Grab on."
"Right, sorry." Hermione clutched his arm and he quickly turned on the spot.
The next second, they were side by side in the living room of his London flat. For an apartment in London, it was big and extravagant. Compared to the the manor that he grew up in, his current living space was quite modest. Draco outfitted it with the latest, top of the line accessories, but space wise it was only two bedrooms, with a decent eat-in kitchen and living room with a fireplace.
He watched as Hermione took a moment to look around and assess the new surroundings. He was prepared to be bombarded with questions about the flat. She looked at him with a spark of insanity in her eyes and Draco thought, for a split second, that she was regretting her decision and was about to apparate out. Instead, she tossed her purse aside and leapt onto him.
Draco caught her, stumbling a few steps before regaining his balance. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and covered his lips once more with hers. He pulled her close as her hands caressed his cheeks and she suckled at his bottom lip.
Supporting her back with one hand, and undoing her dress zipper with the other, Draco carried her into his bedroom. Hermione kicked off her shoes and unwound her legs from his waist. Gently placing her feet on the floor, she stood on her own and let the yellow sundress slip from her body, revealing a strapless white bra and lacy white panties.
"Very virginal, Granger," Draco purred, running his hands over the silky skin of her stomach.
"Shut it, Malfoy," she hissed, grabbing his shirt and pulling him close. Despite the three shots of tequila, her hands worked quickly and accurately at undoing his buttons.
"You do get off on giving orders," he smirked, shucking off his shirt and tossing it aside.
"And this surprises you?" Hermione leaned in and started flicking her tongue along his neck while she worked his belt loose.
"No, I just find it insanely hot when a woman knows what she wants," Draco countered. He moved his hands down to her bum and squeezed, adding, "And then takes it."
Hermione's breath hitched and she she sucked hard on a spot right below his ear. His trousers finally dropped to the floor and he kicked them away.
She shoved him backwards and Draco toppled onto the bed. Grabbing the top of his boxers, Hermione's voice was sultry, yet urgent as she demanded, "I want to see all of you." Slowly, she worked his pants over his erection and down his legs, then tossed them over her shoulder.
"Tit for tat, my dear."
Without argument, Hermione stepped out of her panties and reached up to undo her bra, finally exposing her perky tits and stiff pink nipples. She crawled up onto the bed, straddling his waist and letting her bum rest against his throbbing cock. Her hands grazed up and down his chest, with her fingertips teasing the edge of his own nipples. Draco reached up to cup her breasts. He had just placed a thumb on each aroused peak, when she dragged his hands back down and held them over his head. She left one of her hands to hold his steady, while her other returned to ravage his chest.
Hermione's hold on his hands wasn't strong. Draco could have easily broken free and overtaken her, but he was mesmerized by her confidence. Apparently, she hadn't had it all taken from her.
Her hips slowly started gyrating, sliding his package along the groove of her arse. Just when he thought he couldn't get any harder, he felt her juices dripping down to his own arse. Hermione leaned forward to swirl her tongue around his nipples, allowing his cock to slip back and pulse against her moist folds.
Draco ached to be inside her, grinding his hips in sync with with her gyrations. Taking his hint, Hermione used her left hand to move his fingers back to her breasts, while wrapping her right around his shaft and guiding it into her silky sheath.
Her warmth and tightness forced a growl from Draco's throat. He tugged her forward and let his tongue flicker over her nipples. Hermione hummed in pleasure, ducking her head so that a few wispy curls tickled Draco's nose.
Placing her hands firmly on his shoulders, Hermione settled her lithe body into a hypnotic motion. Every flex of her hips against his sent a wave up her glowing figure. Her eyes were closed, damp curls clinging to her cheeks. Draco started gently rocking his hips, creating a rhythm that devolved her moans into whimpers.
Hermione's breath became ragged as she accelerated her speed. Draco could tell she was close to melting, but he didn't want to let her dissolve quite yet.
In one quick motion, Draco grasped Hermione's hips and rolled her onto her back, so that he was on his knees and straddling her hips. He quickly dipped his cock into her mound, only to swiftly pull it back out. After repeating that a few more times, Hermione's eyes were shut tight and she was chewing on her lower lip. Slipping out once more, Draco bent low and sucked her bottom lip between his. A quick bite that made her gurgle, and he released.
"You….tease…." she panted. She tangled her fingers into his hair and yanked his head back to her hungry lips. Fiercely shoving her tongue to the back of his mouth, she devoured his kiss. Pressing her palms against his cheeks, she breathed, "Make me come….please…."
Grasping his shaft, he slowly circled his tip around her clit, making her writhe beneath him. Her hips rose to meet him, begging for release. Draco stilled for a moment and watched as beads of sweat slithered down the valley of her breasts. Before she could plead for mercy again, he plunged deep into her, sending a shudder through both their bodies.
Draco started out painfully slow, knowing that he himself was on the edge of eruption. Hermione had a fiery, manic look in her eyes as her lips formed a perfect circle, and he was enjoying the look. As his thrusts quickened, her hands flew above her head, palms flat on the headboard as she braced herself. Her legs wound around his waist, lifting her pelvis and burying him deeper than he had imagined possible, sending him to the brink of bursting.
"Don't stop….right there…." Hermione rasped. Draco seized her hips, with a growl, and plowed harder, faster, until he felt her walls quiver. "Yes..yes…yes…" she urged with each thrust, until a final, climatic "YES!" erupted from somewhere deep within.
Hermione's walls tightened and then shattered around Draco, drenching his entire cock with her essence. Clenching the sheets, he gave one final thrust and filled the trembling witch, before doubling over, on top of her. He buried his face her neck, letting his moans of pleasure get lost in her hair.
He kissed and sucked a trail from her ear to her neck, and then to her lips. She parted her lips, her warm mouth welcoming his. Slowly he broke from her lips, and kissed a trail down to the other side of her neck.
"Thank you," Hermione said, breathlessly. "I needed that more than you'll ever know."
Draco rolled onto the mattress and propped himself up on an elbow. "You surprise me, Granger. I never would have guessed this is what you're like when you let your hair down."
"If you would have taken the time, I probably could have surprised you years ago."
"I was an idiot."
"You're still an idiot, Malfoy. Just a nicer one." She smirked as she fell back on the pillow and closed her eyes.
Shaking his head, he pulled the duvet over them. Within a minute, Hermione's body had relaxed into slumber. He fell asleep studying the lines on her face, wondering what she was hiding from the world.
Draco was woken by his alarm at five the next morning. He rolled from his stomach towards Hermione, only to find nothing but empty space. She had already woken and left.