Hello hello, happy December my lovelies!
I know I've been away for a few months, but RL has been extremely busy and hectic. I'm going to try to write and stockpile a few chapters so that I can have them ready to post at least twice a month when things get busier again in the new year x
Please leave a review and let me know what you think x
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
Monday, September 19th, 1977
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Hermione Granger's Birthday
Room of Requirement
Tranquility. The first few weeks of school were concerningly serene, and the quietness of it all unsettled Hermione after the tumultuous latter half of her summer.
The seventh years had received a murderous load of assignments, and already the magnitude of their schoolwork was towering over them. Sirius had grumbled about the number of practicals and tests they'd partaken in thus far; their professors were certainly cramming in as much class time and material as they possibly could.
This of course did not halt the impromptu celebrations that the Marauders and Riley had on their second night back. The seven wix snuck off to the Shrieking Shack to enjoy a moment to themselves, and their 'excuse' for the shot of Firewhisky that they all tossed back (it was Draco's idea) was that it was in Riley's name to congratulate the now sixth year on her fantastic OWL results. The witch garnered Outstandings in all of her subjects aside from Potions (she received an Acceptable) and Care of Magical Creatures (in which she got an Exceeds Expectations).
Even with the unsettling tranquility, Hermione and Draco had barely managed to find a moment alone since term resumed, but currently the two lions were celebrating a special occasion, and in doing so, were missing their morning classes.
"We can't skiv off as much this year," Hermione murmured as Draco placed open mouthed kisses along the side of her neck.
The pair had been on their way to class when a mischievous grin tugged at Draco's mouth and he pulled her in the direction of the Room of Requirement.
The witch and wizard had barely tumbled into the room before Draco's lips were on hers. He tossed his book bag on the ground and his hands slid up the backs of her legs to firmly grip her arse.
"Fuck," Draco moaned into her mouth as her fingers carded into his hair—her nails lightly running over his scalp.
Draco pulled back long enough to say, "it's been way too long." His mouth descended on the side of her neck.
"It has," Hermione said, but somewhere through a haze of desire and need she managed to get out, "but we have Potions."
"Fuck potions."
"Neither of us finished our seventh year," Hermione protested weakly as she leaned into Draco's touch, her head falling back.
"You didn't finish your seventh year," Draco corrected, nipping at her exposed flesh.
"Are you trying to tell me that your seventh year was particularly educational?"
"I wouldn't go that far, but either way, we'll be fine."
"Oh? How do you know that?"
"Cause we study together, and we're both fairly intelligent—"
"You're an idiot," Hermione gasped as Draco's fingers deftly loosened the tie around her neck and he parted from her long enough to toss it aside.
"Happy birthday," Draco said with a toothy grin, his fingers now playing with her jaw, and he tilted her head towards his and claimed her lips. With boyish glee, Draco picked her up and walked them over to the King sized bed—covered in lavender bed sheets—that the room had so kindly provided.
"Fuck," Hermione hissed, her fingers fisting in the sheets on either side of her as her back arched upwards.
Draco's head was in between her legs, his fingers digging into her thighs; not permitting her to budge an inch.
Hermione's teeth dug into her bottom lip as spots began to dance in front of her eyes. Draco sucked on her clit, and her toes curled. The wizard hadn't shaved in a couple days so his scruff was lightly grazing her inner thighs and sending tingles shooting up her body.
"Draco," Hermione moaned softly, her gaze travelling down her body and met molten pools of silver flecked with midnight blue that were staring right up at her.
Draco's eyes fluttered shut, and he pulled back just enough to breathe hotly on her core. Hermione practically whimpered in reply.
"You taste so good sweetness," Draco purred, and Hermione let out a light, breathy laugh as she gently nudged his cheek with her thigh.
Draco nipped at her skin before resting his face against her inner thigh, he gazed up at her almost curiously.
There was a soft moment as Draco shifted and scaled her body until he was face-to-face with her, his lips hovering over hers.
"I missed this," Draco confessed, pressing a feather-light kiss to her mouth, and the wizard carefully laid his full weight on top of her.
Hermione smiled gently as her hands wrapped around his upper back and her legs secured themselves around his waist. Draco buried his face in the side of her neck.
Hermione desperately wished that they could laze away the day in this bed fucking slow and fast, whilst worshipping each others bodies and reverently letting the other's name fall from their lips.
Hermione wanted to stay here with Draco in her arms, her fingers tracing the contours of his body, but, she knew she couldn't.
One of them needed to leave soon lest they rouse suspicion; something she would much rather avoid.
"Okay. We should go," Hermione whispered reluctantly. Draco grunted in response and snuggled into her further.
"Draco."
Another grunt.
"Draco."
"Fuck. Fine, witch," Draco groaned, rolling off of her onto his back, eyes still closed.
Hermione threw a leg over him, propped herself up on her right forearm, and stroked his face with her other hand. "I'm going to skiv off for the rest of the day—"
Draco pried an eye open and his brow drew together a touch, "wait what? Then why do we have to leave?"
Hermione fixed him with a droll look and continued, "whilst you go to class, I'm going to head to the Quidditch pitch and practice for a few hours—"
"Sorry?" Draco asked, sitting up and twisting his body to face her.
"We have to be seen in completely different places, so one of us needs to go to class."
"Why the fuck does it have to be me?"
"Cause it's my birthday," Hermione practically sang, falling onto her back with a smug smile.
Draco worked his jaw for a moment as he stared down at her, and with an acidic bite to his tone he said, "fine. I'll go to Potions and you can go fuck about on the pitch."
"So glad we came to a consensus," Hermione grinned.
Draco muttered, "devious witch," under his breath as he untangled himself from her and slid smoothly off of the bed.
"I heard that!" Hermione called after him as he strode over to their pile of abandoned clothes. Draco squatted down, began to sort through them and picked his out.
Draco snorted, "I know."
Hermione sat up just enough to throw a lilac scented pillow after him, and he nimbly dodged it with a bright grin. The witch fell back against the bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was enchanted. Glittering stars blinked at her and whispered sweet nothings as they snuggled into the inky blue blanket of sky that surrounded them.
Hermione closed her eyes and focused on the slow rise and fall of her chest. She allowed the air to swell inside her lungs until they threatened to burst. The air hissed out between her lips as she exhaled.
While Draco reluctantly trudged down to the Dungeons to spend the next hour with Slughorn going over what he missing during their morning lesson (Draco had a free period after Potions, and Slughorn was all too happy to oblige one of his 'favourite' students), Hermione found herself about fifty feet in the air with the wind eagerly streaking through her hair.
Hermione greedily gulped in the crisp air, head skyward, eyes closed, hands thrown out to the sides.
A shout from below her drew her attention. Hermione glanced down and spotted none other than Remus John Lupin and James Harry Potter. With a smirk the witch secured her hands around the handle of her broomstick, pointed it downward and leant forward. The wind clawed at her curls as she sped to the ground, and she pulled up just in time to not careen straight into the pitch.
Hermione came to a halt beside James, and practically vaulted off of her broom into his arms, "Jamie!"
James's eyes widened as he wrapped his arms around Hermione, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips as she burrowed into him. He flinched and swore lowly when her icy fingers pressed against his neck.
"You're certainly happy today," Remus commented errantly as he rubbed the back of his index finger along the length of his jaw, all teeth and smiles as he watched the siblings.
Hermione's head snapped in his direction, and her smile was almost blinding, "I should bloody hope so it's—"
Hermione's throat constricted, and all of the crisp air that she had been thoroughly enjoying was sapped straight out of her lungs. Fuck, I almost said it's my birthday, Hermione thought as her head began to spin.
"Hermione? Are you alright?" James asked, voice thick with concern.
Hermione firmly shook her head, and the harsh pressure on her throat loosened just enough for her to suck in some air; it could not have tasted sweeter. "Yea," she rasped out. Hermione cleared her throat and carefully breathed in and out, "I was just going to say that it's a great morning."
"Why is that?" Remus asked, then frowned, and he sniffed the air twice. "Was Draco here? His scent is in the air…"
Fuck, Hermione thought. The witch focused on keeping her breathing steady as to not betray the thread of panic that slipped into her bloodstream. The smooth lie that followed rolled off her tongue with far too much ease, "I bumped into him this morning before I came out here." She clearly hadn't scrubbed Draco's scent off as well as she normally would have.
(When the Marauders were all together their scents mingled and blended into one, and they usually all reeked of each other at any given moment, but this was obviously different.)
Thankfully Remus simply shrugged, and Hermione took that as an opportunity to change the subject, "where's Sirius?"
James snorted, "he thinks he figured out a more agreeable way to transfigure humans into animals so that it isn't as uncomfortable when changing physical forms, especially when growing bone…so he ran off after class to go harass Minnie."
Hermione smirked, "it's a good thing she loves us."
"Does she?" Remus asked cheerily.
Hermione released her brother, smoothed down the front of his robes and turned to her alpha with nothing but warmth and platonic adoration, "of course she does, my dear Moony."
Hermione strolled over to her broom, bent slightly at the middle and plucked it off of the ground. The witch straightened and arched her back just enough to hear a small crack. With a satisfied smile she walked over to Remus and James, and thus the trio began to meander their way off of the field.
"I say she tolerates us, with mild affection," Remus countered finally, a pensive expression across his features, his hazel eyes alight, and his mouth twisted slightly to the side.
"I agree with Hermione, she loves us," James smirked.
"That so, Prongs? Why do you say that now?"
"Because she recommended that I become Head Boy to Professor Dumbledore," James said casually, and Hermione raised a brow at that. That she did not know.
"She did?" Hermione asked.
"She must have," James replied with a shrug, "why else would Dumbledore have made me Head Boy when there are far better candidates?"
Hermione glanced at her brother's side profile, at his sharp, strong jaw, and natural charisma. She knew why. James was a natural born leader—whether he realised it or not—and often people listened to what he had to say. He made you feel important when you talked to him, and he genuinely cared about what you had to say. He could be arrogant at times, and a bit rash, but he always stood up for his friends and what he believed in.
"Bollocks, I think you're doing a phenomenal job as Head Boy," Hermione protested with a smile.
Remus cleared his throat, and clapped James on the back, "that's not the only thing he's doing a good job with."
Hermione shot Remus a secret smile as James's cheeks flushed. Lily and James had been spending more and more time with each other as of late, and one might even call them friends; between Head Boy and Girl duties, and becoming study partners, the pair spent a great deal of time with each other.
The cold prickled across Hermione's cheeks. There was a sweet hint of promise in the air and suddenly the listless rut that Hermione had been in began to dissolve.
Draco scratched the side of his nose as he stood in front of the entrance to the Head dorms. The statue of a young maiden—who guarded the dorms—was staring at him curiously, and he returned her gaze evenly. He dissected the layered magical properties that created the illusion of her marble hair fluttering in the wind and her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Draco twisted the ring around his left index finger absentmindedly as he supplied her with the password, "Hippogriff."
The statue daintily stepped out of the way, exposing the entrance to the dorms, and Draco gave her a curt nod as he strode past her and around the short, dark bend that promised warmth with the light that flickered across the walls.
Creamy white walls, vast windows on the East side of the room (Lily had charmed the sheer curtains a sky blue colour), an odd assortment of paintings of fruits on the West, a marble fireplace on the far wall with a few brown leather sofas several feet away that were angled towards it that were each laden with various throw pillows and blankets. Limestone floors that were a cold shock to the system when walking barefoot in the dead of night, but a pleasant warmth clung to them now as Draco kicked off of his shoes close to the door and breached further into the room.
On the far wall on either side of the fireplace were two unassuming oak doors which lead to each of the Head's respective rooms; Lily Evans had chosen the one to the left, and James took the one to the right.
The Head Girl and Hermione were curled up together under a thick, cable knit, electric blue blanket, with their backs pressed against the middle sofa, and a collection of parchment and texts spread across the coffee table in front of them. Their bright laughter slowly trickled into silence as they became aware of Draco's presence.
"Taking a break I see," Draco said, bracing a hand on the back of the sofa the girls were in front of before he launched himself over it and onto the welcoming cushions below. Draco happily sank into the smooth material, and adjusted a pastel yellow pillow beneath his head.
"Did James give your entire merry band the password?" Lily asked with a sigh.
Draco closed his eyes and responded, "no. He gave it to me, but Sirius and Remus were eavesdropping…so don't be surprised if they show up unannounced."
The two girls smiled at that, and they both scooted forward so that they were within reach of their books once more.
There was a comfortable silence amongst the wix for a time. The crackling sound of the flames gobbling up the logs in the fireplace, the occasional page turning, and the scratching of quills across parchment filled Draco's ears.
Lily began to hum. Draco's head fell to the side and he gazed at her. The orange glow from the fireplace illuminated the witch's crimson hair, toying with it and setting it ablaze; some of the strands became molten copper.
"I feel like I barely see Pete around anymore," Lily commented errantly, shifting to the side so that she was partially facing his direction, her attention mainly directed at Hermione. Hermione froze, but instead of responding she merely brushed the feather of her quill along the length of her jaw.
There was nothing to say. Draco couldn't disagree with Lily's statement as he barely saw the wizard either and he was supposed to be one of his best mates.
I wonder if he's already lost to us, Draco thought, his gut twisting with too many emotions to identify.
Draco wasn't given any time to lose himself in his thoughts as footsteps sounded from the entrance and then all too cheerily Sirius yelled his greetings; it made James and Remus's warm salutations that followed pale in comparison.
Lily groaned softly, "am I to assume that studying is over for the night then?" The three wizards came to a halt beside the coffee table.
"No, we can all study together," James suggested, he was looking down at his black sex pistols t-shirt and picking at some nonexistent fluff.
"Mate. It's Friday night, we should be relaxing," Sirius protested with a laborious groan. The wizard crossed over to the sofa Draco was occupying, picked up his feet, flopped down, and then rested Draco's feet in his lap.
"Exactly," Lily piped up. "It's Friday. We should get most of our work out of the way now so we don't have to stress for the rest of the weekend."
"I don't have any of my books," Sirius protested weakly.
Remus and James had busied themselves by squatting down beside Hermione and making light conversation, but James's head snapped up at that comment. "That's no problem, Pads. I can lend you some of mine," James offered.
Sirius's lips parted—an objection on the tip of his tongue—but James had jumped up and was already heading over to his room.
"Oh no…really, it's fine. No, don't do that," Sirius muttered to himself absently, tapping his fingers against Draco's shin with no particular rhythm in mind.
When James returned, he and Lily led the charge and soon they were all diligently reading through their texts. At some point down the line Sirius thought it would be fun to quiz each other and it turned into a competitive game with Remus and James reigning victorious. Lily teased James and said it was all because he'd been studying with her.
Draco watched in wonder as James tickled Lily and the girl threw her head back in laughter, her bright green eyes were on fire as she looked at his brother with what Draco could only call warmth and affection. Lily lightly flicked James on the nose, which ended with the two of them chasing each other around the Common Room.
Sirius decided to get involved by tossing pillows at them—which they both nimbly dodged—whilst Hermione, Remus and Draco curled up in a small pile and talked about the Sirens of the far north that appeared to be made of the very water they inhabited with an icy touch, and icicles that clung to their tails.
The seventh years had found themselves back from the edge of the abyss, and even with all the darkness looming on the horizon—even with all the pain and suffering that was most assuredly heading their way—they clung to hope.
They clung to hope with a feverish intensity. It was Lily's unabashed laughter as James caught her around the middle, it was Sirius singing folk songs perfectly in tune as he tumbled into the trio on the ground. It was the feeling deep in all of their chests that no matter what adversity they faced in the future, they would be alright in the end.