Hermione and Draco continue their research. Also, Draco has some me-time ;).

I'm very much blown away by the wonderful comments my little story got so far! Thank you so much for not only taking your time reading it but also commenting and leaving favourites and following it! Each and every one is highly appreciated and a great motivator to keep writing 3. I try to answer all of your reviews, and if you comment as a guest, please consider signing in, so I can thank you personally :).

A big thank you to Kyonomiko for her helpful input, and to Riptide for his never-ending patience beta-reading and correcting my story. I'm a truly lucky woman to have your help! 3

This story is cross-posted from AO3 where it's usually updated one or two days earlier than ffn. My username over there is sarena.

Disclaimer: All rights belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I just borrow the characters and the world for a bit; the plot (as little as there is) is mine, though. This is a non-profit work, and no copyright infringement is intended.

ooOoOoOoo

Hermione rubbed her temples with the fingers of both hands in hopes of clearing her irritation away. And that damned arousal which wouldn't leave her alone, as well. She still had half a notion to simply jump him and have her wicked way with him, if it weren't for the peculiar feeling that she got when she looked at him. That warm buzz deep inside of her which had developed into a loud and pleased hum during their unscheduled snogging session. She'd been in love before, and she'd been in lust before, but this was nothing like either of them.

She wouldn't deny it to herself anymore that there wasn't any attraction she felt towards him. If anything, the hard orgasms she'd had in the past few days with the thought of his white-blond head between her thighs spoke volumes. She felt exactly as sticky right now, after she'd interrupted what she could only call foreplay so roughly, but a lot less satisfied.

Her eyes roamed over his toned body, thanking Merlin and whoever might be listening for his arrogant sneer which took a lot of his handsomeness away. Unfortunately, his excellent physique was very tempting, his stretched out arms and his chest only half-covered by his shirt—she idly wondered how many shirts he'd shredded since his birthday—showing lean but defined muscles she wanted to run her lips over and over again.

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through her nose. "You've got me under some sort of thrall. I'm not behaving like myself, and my magic is enhanced."

"I've got you under a thrall?! It's the other way around! Bloody hell, I hardly think about anything else but you." He dragged his hand over his face, lingering over his mouth.

"It must be some love spell or potion or..." She focused on his tentacles. "Maybe it has something to do with your condition." She moved to the desk and opened a new page of her note book on her way back to the tea table, heaping more clotted cream and apricot jam on her plate after she took a seat. "Let's assume neither of us has used a spell or potion, and it's unlikely that your mum did."

He slumped down on the other chair and looked miserable. She was sure that she looked quite ruffled, too, and she stopped her hand from reaching and trying to smooth her hair just so. Concentrating on the problem at hand instead of fantasising improper scenarios was by far more sensible. That didn't mean that she didn't want to kiss every centimetre of his skin. It just meant that she would try to postpone it a bit, until they had figured out why they were behaving so irrationally.

"Any ill will from former friends or associates?"

He grunted. "Are you seriously asking me that? Of course, there are still people who'd want me dead or at least in Azkaban. But only a few would be able to pull it off. And both love potions and spells are always designed to be in two parts. One for each party affected, so they'd have to target you, too."

"True. Not that I don't have my own enemies, but we probably don't have the same ones."

He groaned, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. "Granger, can you cast again? It's hard to—"

"I can see," she snickered and looked at the still prominent bulge in his trousers. "Sorry," she apologised a split-second later and felt a rise of pink mortification again on her face, no matter how much she wanted to stare and estimate his girth through the slightly straining cloth.

"Ventum glaciale," she muttered, swirling the tip of her wand in the required five-quarters open coil and adding the flourish that would extend the spell's efficiency. A bit of the cold air cooled her face, the range of the spell showing once again that it was stronger than intended. She turned her focus back on the sheet of paper in front of her, and struck out love potion and love spell.

"I saw your wand movement. What did you alter of the Ice Wind spell?"

"I found it in The Crafty Witch. It's an addition to discourage too-ardent suitors."

He raised an eyebrow. "It affects... that?"

"It dampens the target's ardour, yes, being most effective when combined with a cooling charm." She kept her glance glued to her pen, only letting it stray to his eyes with the last word. His cheeks were still rosy.

Malfoy grabbed his forgotten scone with one tentacle and spooned strawberry jam on it with his right hand. He took a bite and watched her thoughtfully.

"You're getting better with them." Hermione observed. He only shrugged his shoulders—making all the appendages on his sides jump—and kept on chewing.

"Right. Now that we've ruled out a spell or a potion, we basically have only your tentacles left as reason." She hid her smirk behind the tea cup when he growled at her mention of the T-word. "Which means we're back at the start."

"Yeah," he said and closed his eyes. Hermione forced herself to stay put, her empathy lighting up like a scone on petrol. She felt awkward knowing that they'd almost devoured each other just a few minutes ago, and it was good to distract her confusing emotions.

She looked at her wrist watch. "I've about an hour left before I have to go home. Let's continue with grandpa Abraxas' journals and try to find something."

He grunted again, and carried their tea cups back to the desk. Hermione blew her cheeks when her eyes fell on the runes, but sat down and started working. The feeling of his hot mouth and smooth appendages still lingered on her, ingraining itself into her memory and taking her mind off the task at hand. Which was probably the reason why she'd taken so long to notice that particular pattern among those describing Draco's ancestor's sleeping difficulties.

She went a few pages back and then a few more. There they were, nestled between complaints about the elves' cooking and praise for his wife's expert handling of the greenhouses.

Her head shot up when Malfoy cleared his throat. "I found something about the ingredients necessary for the potential potion." He leaned forward and pushed the journal he was working on towards her. Pointing at the runes which looked exactly like the ones she'd discovered, he continued, "I can't quite make sense of those runes. One is the old rune for Slytherin, but the other ones don't fit."

"I found those runes, too," she said with new-found excitement. "Look here. And on two more pages later. Do you think they are his code for the tentacles?"

"Appendages," he grit out between his teeth. "And possibly, yes." He grabbed an encyclopedia on Common and Uncommon Runes, and started to leaf through it. "One of the two embracing runes might be man or fight, but the other one looks... crooked, for lack of a better word."

Hermione emptied her cup. "What if he fused two runes?"

"Why would he do that?"

"Why would he write all of his journals in ancient runes when they are protected by elaborate blood wards anyway?"

"You're giving me a headache here, woman." He scrunched his face until wrinkles showed on his nose. "Then the possible meanings are endless."

"I know." She sighed and copied the signs into her own notebook. "Maybe it's enough that we know what to look for. I've developed a spell to search for phrases in written works. It's for vocalised words but I think I can modify it to work with written runes."

"I'm impressed, Granger. You'll have to teach me."

Hermione smiled at the unexpected compliment, and the heat in his gaze warmed her from the inside. "Will do. In what exact context do the runes stand?"

"Grandfather listed shrivelfig, lavender, armadillo bile, and moonstone. There are no measures given, and it's one of the early notebooks, though. What do you have?"

"He mentions problems falling asleep, dinner he didn't like, and the greenhouses. He really uses too many weird runes to make much sense of that! I mean I get that your grandma grew some of the ingredients, and that it must be quite uncomfortable lying on the appendages, but the food?" When she lifted her head, she heard him murmur something and saw him fidgeting with his cup. "Pardon me?"

"Nothing."

"If it's something to do with your condition, you really should tell me," she snapped.

"It's—" He hesitated and flicked his tongue across his bottom lip. "It's not directly connected to it."

Hermione gave him a stern look, motioning with one hand to continue.

"It's not the inconvenience of lying on them. That doesn't hurt. It's the arou—the agitation. A... restlessness. That's what it is."

Hermione felt her face heat up when she thought about her own restlessness in the previous few nights. She hadn't forgotten the phantom touch of his appendages on her breasts and wondered if she could squeeze in a very quick session with her silicone wonder before she had to get ready for dinner. She'd definitely need a fresh pair of pants, no matter what, but she refrained from shifting on her bottom. The increasing slickness between her thighs couldn't be helped at the moment.

Malfoy shot her an intense look and took a deep breath he held for a couple of seconds before he released it with a soft moan. His appendages fidgeted, changing girth and length every few moments if she observed correctly. "The Ice Wind, Granger. Now!"

Hermione repeated the incantation, making sure some of the spell reached her, too. Godric knew how much she needed a cool down. She looked at her wrist watch and stifled a curse. "Malfoy, will you be alright? I have to go."

He gave her a petulant glance and crossed his arms across his chest. "Sure, just leave me alone and suffering."

Hermione snorted. "You're truly a drama queen. I'll take a few of your grandpa's journals with me, if that's alright with you."

Malfoy nodded and got up. There was a small trickle of sweat running down on the side of his face. "Who are you going to go out with?"

She couldn't quite stifle her smirk at the forced casualness of his words before packing everything and making for the floo with fast steps. He followed, his long legs easily catching up with her.

"Granger, who are you going to go out with tonight?" One of his appendages curled around her waist and pulled her against his muscled chest. She smelled a hint of sweat, parchment, and strawberry jam on him, and it almost made her reconsider her evening plans. Her thumb traced his lower lip and she pressed a quick kiss with a hint of tongue to the side of his throat while she cast the last Ice Wind for the evening. They both shuddered under the sudden coldness, and his hold on her tightened for a short second until he retracted all of his limbs off her.

"Wouldn't you want to know?" she finally not-answered his question and twisted the corner of her lip in a way that would make any Malfoy proud. Grabbing some floo powder, she saw his eyes widen, and then she was off to her flat.

ooOoOoOoo

Draco looked into the fireplace, watching the green flames swallow Granger and inhaling the faint smell of lavender and aired room below the one of dust and ash; she must've left her fireplace off for quite some time then, as he couldn't smell any smoke. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noticed that detecting the smell of somebody else's home through the floo was a bit unusual but her answer had been just the right mixture of cheek and sultriness to incite his blood and make it focus on any part of him besides his brain. His right hand moved immediately down and rubbed his hard-on through the cloth of his trousers. Her body nestled against his and that beguilingly innocent kiss on his neck had been almost too much stimulation for him to finally let her go, modified Ice Wind or no.

On a rational level, he knew she was right to want to figure out why they were so attracted to each other, but on a more feral level, he'd rather follow her and fuck her into the next horizontal surface available. Or a vertical one; he surely wouldn't discriminate. It was a bit disconcerting to realise that he was willing to do almost anything just to get her consent. But before he pondered his best course of action, he needed to take care of more urgent matters.

He trailed their path back into the library. If he was lucky, there was still some of her scent on the chair she'd been sitting on.

He slumped down on the edge of the one by the tea table, and turned his head to press his nose into the backrest. It smelled like Granger's shampoo, but there was more to it; something marvellous was underlying that excited him. The library's dry smell of paper and wood set the perfect frame for Granger's. Draco felt himself swell even more in his trousers, and he opened the remains of his shirt with fumbling fingers, too eager to get physically close to her scent, and rub as much of his skin on the fabric as possible. He stroked his hands down his chest before he snapped the button of his waistband open and pulled the zipper down. The coconut scent of her hair was in his nose as he pulled his stiff cock out of his boxers, and he replayed the image of her sitting in this chair hardly an hour ago. Her actions were proof that she wasn't a shy and innocent bookworm anymore. If she'd ever been one, that is.

Two of his appendages rolled themselves around his nipples and pulled them gently until he moaned. A muttered wandless spell later, and his hand was tugging on his slicked-up dick while he saw Granger lick some apricot jam from her lips in his mind. He tightened his fist, and slowed down a bit, enjoying the mental picture of those lips around his cock. She bobbed her head in sync with his fist, her brown curls all over the place, and he started to fondle his balls with his other hand. He would gather her hair in one hand, pulling it from his view. She'd love a bit of hair-pulling, making her hum around his cock. Not many things could be better than watching her red lips glisten with a mixture of her saliva and his precome, feeling the tip of her tongue run around the ridge of his head. He had half a mind to stretch his wank out; to coil one of his appendages around the base of his cock and thus deny himself his orgasm for a few more minutes.

But who was he kidding? He was so turned on that he'd been on the brink since he started to play with his own nipples. His thoughts wandered to the moment earlier when he thought he actually smelled Granger's arousal and he groaned, hand moving up and down in quick succession, only interrupted by occasional swipes of his thumb over the head leaking drops of precome.

And when he inhaled the upholstery of the chair deeply enough through his mouth and nose, he could detect her excitement for him. It was a sharp scent which now centred in his brain and even more in his groin just as easily as it did before. It tingled from his balls to the head of his length, leaving a pleasant sensation behind. He wondered if she'd been as wet as he'd been hard, and if she'd like him to spread her legs with his appendages and her labia with his fingers so he could eat her out. He so hoped she would. Draco moaned and jerked faster on his cock, swiping the palm of his hand over the entirety of the head and feeling the leaking fluid change the texture of his lubrication charm. She would be absolutely soaked for him, moaning and groaning his name, and pulling his hair with clenched hands.

His climax flashed through him when he imagined his tongue buried in her cunt and feeling her contract around it, flickers of white dancing in front of his eyes while his shout sounded raw in his own ears. The majority of his seed shot in long spurts across his chest and thighs until only a trickle came out and covered his fingers with the last few tugs. He sat motionlessly for a few minutes, feeling his appendages finally recede, and then looked down at the generous amount of sticky mess. He had even managed to hit his chin.

His head fell back on the backrest and his pulse slowed down. Grabbing his wand from the holster sewn along the sleeve of his destroyed shirt, he scourgified his spend and tried to decide on his next steps

Phew, that was my very first male masturbation scene, and I'd love to find how you've liked it. Praise and constructive criticism is very welcome :). If you find a mistake, please don't hesitate to contact me on tumblr: o0sarena0o and I'll try to fix it as soon as I can.