HELLO HELLO! Three days in a row, how fun is this ;)
You lot are truly wonderful. I think I am going to go on a bit of a writing hiatus (more of a posting hiatus), to read, and to focus on IRL for a while. I know I normally end up posting anyways, but I really think I'm going to take a break this month. So, if you see me post at all, it's things I've pre-written that only needed to be edited (I don't have a lot of pre-written things ATM, but I do have a couple).
Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
Thursday, February 24th, 1977
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Room of Requirement
Frustration crept up on her, wrapping itself tightly around her mind, until it had pervaded every thought that passed through her head. Careful as to not damage the pages—but harsh enough to inform the book of her anger at its lack of answers—she turned the next page. Magical Water Plants of the Highland Lochs by Hadrian Whittle was balanced on her lap, mocking her.
Hermione squinted at the next passage, determined to make some progress on the potion today. She'd already read Sub-Aquatics Botanical Mysteries and Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties for evening. Well, re-read in an attempt to garner some new information that they may have missed before.
It was in that moment that Hermione wished she knew more than one language )not counting her decent grasp of latin and 'passable' understanding of French).
Draco had given up for the evening: he was tired from Quidditch practice bright and early that morning, and he'd endured a full roster of classes. Hermione had woken up late, thus missing practice, and she hadn't heard the end of it from James. He snuck in sly, snarky comments about it throughout the day. Well, until she threatened to hex him during lunch.
Draco was a few feet away from her, reclining languidly across the plush, navy blue couch. A stack of abandoned books lay beside the comfortable piece of furniture. The texts were all various sizes, not to mention written in various tongues (Draco knew five languages, though he argued that two of them were iffy if he had converse rapidly with a native speaker).
Hermione groaned loudly, "nothing." Her gaze was locked onto his shoes neatly placed beside the pile of books, his tie and outer robes however were haphazardly discarded on top of his book bag.
"Put the books down for the day, and c'mere," Draco replied, eyes still closing, but he raised his hands in her general direction.
"No, there must be something," Hermione said stubbornly, her eyes boring into the page once more, but they kept skimming over the words.
"Whatever, witch," Draco sighed, folding his arms over his chest, and he snuggled further into the couch.
His dismissal irked her for some reason. It was probably the mounting frustration. She knew that.
Hermione closed the book, and leant forward just enough to carefully place it on the ground. Then she straightened up, crossing one leg over the other, and she settled back into her armchair. Hermione was a vision of elegance and regality.
She decided to tease Draco. It was always fun watching his feathers get ruffled. "Why don't you ever write me poetry? Moony used to write me poetry."
Draco pried open one eye, assessed the smug smile on her face, and instantly knew what she was doing. He chose to play along anyways.
"You're supposed to treat me like a lady, you're supposed to wine and dine me." Draco quirked a brow, "is that what you're trying to tell me I should be doing?"
"Maybe, something along those lines," Hermione waved the statement away with a soft exhale, her fingers flitting towards him in a dismissive manner. "It's just, I would have thought that the great Draco Potter would be a bit better at courting."
Draco ignored the last comment, but his famous smirk was blatantly drawn across his face.
"Well, we can't exactly even hold hands in public, much less go out for a fancy dinner," Draco pointed out.
"That is beside the point," Hermione said, rubbing the tip of her tongue along the front of her teeth. "I guess it's safe to say we've passed the 'honeymoon' phase."
Draco made a sound that was a combination between a snort and a laugh. "Have we now, Your Majesty?" The wizard pulled himself upright, his legs swinging off the couch and firmly planting themselves on the ground. "I have known you for over a decade now," Draco commented errantly as he rose from his seated position, stretching his arms high over his head—his button-down was untucked, so it rode up to expose some of his pale flesh.
Hermione averted her eyes and scoffed, "in all fairness, I didn't like you for a good portion of that."
Draco's socks muffled the sound of his footfalls as he sauntered over to her, and her vision blurred as she stared unblinkingly at the cream wall opposite her.
Draco's cool palm on Hermione's cheek caught her off guard—she shivered involuntarily—and she bit her lip to hold in the tiny whimper that threatened to bound out of her mouth.
"But…you changed your mind about me...didn't you?" Draco asked quietly.
Hermione nodded imperceptibly.
Without warning, Draco's hand roughly slid into her curls, and he grabbed ahold of them. "Use your words, sweetness."
Hermione's eyes snapped in his direction, and she almost melted under his gaze—molten silver flecked with midnight blue consuming her. Slowly, she responded, "I might like you a little now."
"Just a little?" Draco whispered, the words rolling off his tongue as he lowered his mouth to hers; but he didn't make contact, and he was so close that sparks were tingling across her lips from his hot breath. The hand not currently wrapped up in her curls ghosted over her bare thigh. "Just a little?" He repeated as the same said hand glided across the outside of her thigh before slipping under it, his fingers gripping it firmly as he lifted it, and then he placed it on the seat beside her other one.
Draco withdrew from her entirely in an instant—an action that caused her to glower darkly at him. Draco rested his hands on the arms of her chair. He leaned down, lips hovering over hers. The wizard froze, still and as motionless as stone.
Hermione slightly rose up off her seat, fulling intending for her lips to meet his, but he pulled back just enough that they barely brushed.
"Tease," Hermione breathed.
Draco grinned toothily, his tongue toying with the tip of his right canine.
Hermione grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tugged him down to her, their lips finally meeting. Mint. It's everywhere. Everywhere. She wanted to imprint it on every inch of her skin.
Whilst Hermione had initiated the kiss, Draco quickly took hold of the reins, and the pace was painfully slow.
"Draco," Hermione hissed in between kisses, her hand relinquished its hold on his shirt, and slithered upwards until it was buried in his mess of raven locks. His hair was long enough that Mipsy would have threatened to shear it all off.
"Hermione," Draco smiled against her lips.
Growing impatient, Hermione's other hand made short work of Draco's belt before she unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, and she broke the kiss—her forehead pressed against his—so that she could watch his expression when her hand slipped inside of them. Draco's eyes widened, pupils fully dilated, and his mouth opened as if to say something, but her hand slid into his boxers and encircled his length.
A vicious growl ripped from Draco's lips, and his head dove down to reclaim her lips, but it was her turn to be a tease and play coy. Hermione swiftly turned her face away from him, and he missed his target—his face instead ended up buried into side of her neck.
Draco's mouth latched onto the soft skin laid bare before him, and he released the armchair, his hands roughly moving along the length of her body—seemingly with no purpose—touching as much of her as he could.
Hermione let out a surprised squeak when Draco gruffly tugged her up off of the armchair. Draco's right hand traced an absent pattern on the back of her thigh as it snaked upwards: he pushed his hand up and under her skirt in one smooth move, and before she knew it, he was cupping her arse—her supple flesh filling his hand.
"Hermione," Draco stopped suckling at her neck long enough to whisper her name almost reverently.
Hermione took that opportunity to hike her leg up onto his waist, insistently pressing herself against him. She needed him.
Draco began tugging at her shirt, and for some unknown reason, Hermione decided to ask, "what happened to taking things slow?" She smiled against his lips, throwing his own words back at him. Draco paused, and Hermione's eyes widened, he could not actually be contemplating stopping.
"Fuck that," Draco growled, and any semblance of slow ended in that moment. Draco literally ripped her shirt right off, a few of her buttons flying off in the process, but she frankly couldn't care less. They divested each other of their clothes in a flash, tearing them off with vigour.
They paused. Hermione's fingers dug into Draco's back, and she peered up at him.
The witch and wizard were practically nude, bits and pieces of clothing hanging off of them, or littering the ground—fabric everywhere.
Hermione nudged the side of Draco's face with her nose. "I love you," Hermione whispered, and then, finally, Draco kissed her.
Draco's lips were on fire as they slanted over hers, his tongue delving into her mouth without breaking a beat. The wizard swallowed her moan when his middle finger sought out her slit, and then slick with her, slid back to her clit and began to rub fervently against it.
Hermione gave into primal need as she wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked it, gasping when Draco quickened his pace.
She laughed breathlessly when Draco shimmied the rest of the way out his trousers, before kicking them to the side.
Draco's response was a swift nip to her flesh. Hermione fervidly ground against Draco's hand, lightly biting his bottom lip, and hastening her own pace around his length.
Draco's hand abruptly stopped in its ministrations, he removed her hand from around him, and he broke their kiss.
"Draco?" Hermione asked, panting heavily, but her eyes flew open when she felt the tip of his cock in between her folds.
"You're so wet, sweetness," Draco said, burrowing his face into the side of hers, his husky voice reverberating across her skin.
"Draco," Hermione's hands shakily found his face and yanked it back in front of hers, "I want you. Now."
Draco blinked, and she found herself enraptured by his dark lashes, and then got distracted by a bead of sweat that ran down the side of his face.
"Dra—" Hermione started, but her voice was stolen from her, when Draco lined himself up, and without another word, slammed into her.
"Fuck," Draco grunted, his head falling forward onto her chest.
Hermione's hands jerkily skidded down his back, and her nails dug into the wide expanse of skin, revelling in the feeling of his muscles shifting and rolling under her fingers.
Draco waited a moment, giving them both time to adjust, but the moment her inner walls clenched around him, Draco snapped his hips up to meet hers.
Mint. Chamomile and vanilla. The scents danced, leaping, coiling, twisting around each other; they entwined, lacing themselves together, and Hermione's entire body was on fire.
Searing, unforgivable heat curled around the witch and wizard as they thrust against each other, and they sloppily kissed each other as Draco lowered Hermione onto the armchair he'd lifted her off of. Draco knelt down on one knee. They paused just long enough for Hermione to flip over, and the witch braced herself on her forearms. Draco's body covered hers, and one hand turned her face towards his enough so that he could kiss her once more.
"Draco," Hermione moaned, and her hands curved into each other. Draco righted himself, a bruising grip on her hips as he slammed into her once more, and the witch's head fell forward onto her hands.
Hermione's unsealed bond with Draco flared in her chest: a bond that she was sure they would seal one day in the distant future. The strings tying Draco and Hermione together cut into their skin as they wound around the witch and wizard.
Hermione leg began to twitch, and neither of them bothered to muffle the loud moans, groans and grunts erratically ripping from them. Hermione fell forward, but quickly lifted up just enough for her right hand to slip out from under her, and slide down her body. Spots burst and popped in front of her eyes when her hand rubbed against her clit.
"Hermione," Draco snarled, his thrusts uncoordinated, no rhythm at all dictating his movements.
"I swear to Circe, if you stop—" Hermione got out, but couldn't say anything further, because Draco reached his climax, his fingers burrowing into her flesh. He kept pistoning in and out of her, not as harshly as before, and she whimpered, because she could feel her own climax mounting.
Draco slowly withdrew his cock from her, and in a tender fashion, he flipped her over, "you didn't finish, did you?"
Hermione's fingers were gently moving across her clit, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, and she swallowed thickly before shaking her head.
"Guess we'll have to fix that," Draco murmured, and her back sharply arched when she felt his mouth against her core.
"Fuck, Draco," Hermione swore, her free hand flailed around until she stumbled across a clear train of thought, and it shot down to grab fistfuls of his hair—which was slick with sweat.
Hermione's fingers continued to rub at her clit as her hips rolled forward, and Draco lapped at her cunt, and soon, she too tumbled over the edge. Her legs shook and clamped together around Draco's head, and her vision blurred out completely for a few moments. "Fuck," she panted.
Draco pressed a soft kiss to her folds, and then worked his head out from in between her thighs, letting his cheek fall heavily on the top of her left one. Draco's hot breath tickled her bare skin, and she found herself smiling.
Hermione's head lolled to the side, and her gaze landed on her discarded blouse a few feet away, "what is it with you…and popping the buttons off of my shirts?"
OH. IF YOU READ THIS IN PUBLIC, MESSAGE ME ON TUMBLR AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU CAN (Or PM me, either works tbh, tumblr is faster though). IT WILL MAKE MY DAY, CAUSE I CAN ONLY IMAGINE ALL OF YOUR FACES. HA.