Whenever I see an email notification about a follow, like, or even comment, my heart soars! Thank you all for taking time reading my story *smooches*. I hope you'll like the new chapter!

Immeasurable thanks to TheLastLynx for the excellent alpha and beta input, to riptidemonzarc for the amazing beta, and last but not least, to Astoria-J13 for the grand brit-pick! Well, and to Astoria-J13's friends who put up with my questions about British work ethics, in their very own way, only to have me delete that part in the end ;). I wouldn't know what I'd do without you all *hearts*!

This work is cross-posted from AO3. Please go there to see the new aesthetic I made and for timelier interactions! My penname 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.

Draco was barely able to suppress his smile when the waiter led Granger to the table in one of the private rooms. She looked most lovely today. Her slightly rumpled office robes and the curls escaping the knot at the back of her neck mirrored exactly how she would look after an intimate lunch-rendezvous with him, reddened cheeks and swollen lips included. The mental image of how she would come to such a state—immensely more delightful activities than examining dusty artefacts—sent heat through his whole body before he tucked these notions away into the recesses of his mind.

Immediately, he stood up to greet her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. She felt cool and smooth under his lips which tingled slightly at the touch. The tip of his tongue chased that feeling almost of its own volition. "Hello, Granger."

"Hello, Malfoy." A hint of disappointment washed over her face, and he couldn't help but feel pleased about it. Pushing her chair back to the table, the scent of her hair was alluring to him once more. It was all he could do to not bury his nose in her curls, but he didn't resist trailing the tips of his index and middle fingers from that sensitive spot below her ear to where the collar of her blouse covered her just so. She leaned into his touch, a light ripple of goosebumps breaking out on her skin. When she looked up, her lips were damp from her tongue flicking across them. Only the certainty that they'd be disturbed by the waiter at any time made him step back and strive to soothe the pounding of his heart. With a slow exhale, he sat down on the seat just across from her.

The side-room was separated from the rest of the restaurant by shielding charms taking the form of burgundy-coloured, intricate screens which reached from the floor to the ceiling. Solely the glimmering air in front of the screens gave their magical purpose away. The charms not only muted the clatter and chatter of the other guests, but they also kept the conversation between them private. A door-sized passage with a permeable shield was integrated on one side of the magical wall. The pair of them were seated at a table in the centre of the room that was covered by a pristine tablecloth decorated with a small and elegant flower bouquet in pastels. Hermione's eyes swept over the simple, cream-coloured candles perched in a silver girandole, lingering over the overwhelming splendour of the design, until she looked back at him.

The only window in the room was large, covered by whisper-thin lace that filtered the harsh sunlight into a warm shade. She looked almost ethereal when she accepted the menu from the waiter, and Draco had to remind himself to not stare overtly.

"How is your day going?" He smoothed the table cloth next to his plate with the palm of his hand, although the pleasant, white cotton certainly didn't need it.

"Ugh," she said, her eyes flickering up from the list of entrees. She hesitated briefly, but then she added, "It's going slowly, but I'm hoping to find out more about an object which came in yesterday. It has been annoying me ever since."

"I suppose you can't talk much about it."

She rubbed the upper corner of a page between her fingertips before she smiled apologetically. "Unfortunately, I can't, but if it's alright with you, I'd like to scour your library. It seems to be some kind of particularly unpleasant but old magic."

"Of course," he answered, his brain already calculating the possibilities of how much more time she would be spending with him. The prospect made him almost giddy, despite the fact that Malfoys simply weren't giddy. He pressed his fingertips on the tablecloth to keep himself from easing away the fluttering in his belly with his palm. "When would you like to start?"

Before she had a chance to answer, they were interrupted by the waiter bringing the water Draco had requested earlier and taking their order. Draco caught the waiter's gaze lingering on Hermione before he eventually left. He didn't like that one bit, but he suppressed his snarl before it passed his lips and focused on her again.

"Posthaste would be favourable, but I still have to run additional tests that I hope will help me to determine which books might be helpful in researching that particular project." Hermione pulled on one of her freed curls and cast him a look from underneath her lashes as one corner of her lips tucked a little up. "If I came over in the late afternoon, we could have dinner after."

He really wanted to give in to his urge to reach out and wrap the wayward curl around his finger. To keep his treacherous hands busy, he broke a little piece of bread off and spread butter on it. "Of course. Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"Well, I'm dying to see which treasures your library contains first before I'll be able to determine how to proceed." She smiled, tiny dimples showing next to the corners of her mouth. "I'll bring my working equipment and documentation with me."

"That'll work. Just owl me whatever time would suit you best."

"Gladly," she agreed, and tilted her head, "but I don't think I'll be before five or six—Yes, six is likely, but it might be a little later."

Draco took a sip of his water to hide a smile of satisfaction. It also cooled his feverish body, at least a little. "Fine with me," he said. "I'll be busy in the kitchens for a while anyway."

"You'd better." Hermione laughed, dimples deepening.

"I told you what to expect from my cooking skills, though," he quipped. "Maybe you should make sure to eat enough now?"

She leaned forward, closer towards him. Her breasts pressed into the edge of the table, and he was momentarily caught off guard. They seemed so soft and voluptuous and utterly inviting. It was hard not to ogle them too obviously. "Of course, they are terrible," she said. "But I'm sure Wompy won't let us starve, or even better, we can fix something on our own."

That was actually a prospect Draco wouldn't mind at all, brushing against each other in front of a kitchen counter. An obnoxious voice in the back of his mind doubted his house-elf would just pass her reins to Hermione without more of the exaggerated sniffing and huffing he'd had to endure when he approached Wompy about his endeavour, but they'd make it through that.

He knew he'd enjoy working alongside Granger, and the exact project wouldn't matter much. Even now, her proximity made him catch the now-familiar scent of her shampoo. He inhaled deeply. The coconut smell was something he automatically associated with her. His eyes wandered to the glimpse of flesh above her cleavage, rosy and supple and— He blinked, realising he was losing control again. "You cook?"

"I'm perfectly able to feed myself, thank you very much. You hardly need to be a three-star chef to fix yourself sandwiches or a plate of pasta." She lifted her nose ever so slightly as her movement guided his gaze to her alluring neck. He could almost taste the trace of salt on her skin on his tongue, her pulse quick but strong. She was a true hellcat, and the more he got to know her, the more he appreciated her strong mind. He swallowed heavily, along with all the naughty, inappropriate things that were threatening to spill from his lips. Like why he'd much prefer to have her as an appetizer.

"No offence intended, Hermione." Her name rolled off his tongue like a caress. Although he kept his tone as levelled as he could, he suspected she could hear the lust dripping off it. No matter his desperate, inner efforts to the contrary, the appendages were already pulsing against his skin, demanding to be released. He mentally cursed his body and its enhanced senses.

Granger, however, was still bristling and it made her even more lovely. "You know perfectly well that I wouldn't let you off half as easily if you didn't pay Wompy a salary," she said resolutely.

"A lot of things have changed since the war." The thought of the war was enough to dull his libido quite a bit. "Some for the better, like creature rights."

Despite the ruddy spots on her cheeks that he suspected came from her annoyance, Hermione cast him a contented look at his quiet words. Her focus on him wavered, however, when the waiter brought their food.

Draco narrowed his eyes when she smiled at the chap a little too friendly for his taste. Even worse, the man was showing her too much attention, still smiling at her when he placed Draco's coq au vin in front of him. "You can always ask her about it when you come over tonight," he announced a little louder than strictly necessary.

She didn't answer as her eyes flickered from the waiter to him and back again, one eyebrow raising. Ignoring him for a second, she thanked the waiter a lot more kindly than was requisite in his opinion. The skin on his back strained, but this time not because he wanted to ravish Hermione. Blood was swooshing in his ears, the loud pumps of his heart echoing through them.

On a rational level, he knew that Hermione was just being as polite as his mother would be in the same situation—even though she was considerably warmer than a Malfoy family member would be in public. No, rationally he knew he had no business getting angry. Not to mention that he had no ownership over her whatsoever.

On an emotional level, though, he had the urge to display his closeness to her. He wanted all the world—but this chap in particular—to see that she was his.

In a despairing endeavour to calm himself, he bit down on his tongue as hard as he could without drawing blood as he watched their interaction. The appendages continuously throbbed beneath his skin, threatening to break out and stake the claim he wasn't able to. He really didn't want to have to Obliviate anyone to keep the Malfoy secret. His grandfather must have found a way to deal with all these inconvenient urges, maybe the potion he'd been developing. Draco promised himself to put an extra effort into finding out more about that. Until then, he'd have to stock up on Calming Draughts. He grimaced in the face of this outlook. He wasn't fond of peppermint.

Granger pulled him out of the deep recesses of his mind. "Then I guess I'll ask Wompy tonight." The grip of her hands was relaxed on her cutlery as she took a bite of her trout. "Oh, this is really good," she exclaimed.

"I should hope so." He wasn't sure himself if he was referring to the food or his house-elf. His tone was colder than appropriate, and he realised it only too acutely. Mollifying his feelings hadn't worked half as well as he'd desired. Hiding his grimace behind his napkin, he patted his lips to gain a reprieve.

Granger's eyebrows shot up and she looked a little crestfallen. She took another forkful of food and appraised him for a long moment. Finally she asked, "Why are you upset?"

"I am not upset." As soon as the words were out, he cursed the short temper he'd developed once more. He had learned to keep his emotions under lock and key better than that the hard way, back then.

She clicked her tongue, an action he guessed was involuntary. "If you say so."

The following silence weighed like lead on his mood, only interrupted by the clank of the silver and the indiscernible noises of other guests mellowed by the privacy charms. He focused on the explosion of flavours on his tongue for now, anything to distract him. The disquiet bubbling underneath his skin settled with every passing minute as he watched her from the corner of his eye. He wasn't even sure what she could have done to appease him. Realising this, his mind became calmer.

After swallowing down her last bite and patting her mouth at the same time as he, she queried, "Are you feeling more like yourself again?"

"Fuck that damned curse. I—I think so."

"Alright." Hermione considered him and threw a furtive glance towards the entrance. Then she moved her chair closer, lowering her voice. "Did you find out anything else since our last session?" She didn't need to specify what she was talking about.

He swirled his wand in a large circle surrounding them to enforce an additional silencing charm. "Sort of. I was able to exclude a few ancestors due to what I've found about them." Hermione shifted, and unwittingly, her blouse exposed more cleavage. Draco tried his best to keep his mind focused on the research and not the patch of skin he saw peeking out. "I've cross-referenced them with the ones who didn't seem to be affected. Abraxas might have been right. Only the heir of every second generation seems to have suffered from the curse, but the intention to keep everything tightly under wraps makes research annoyingly difficult—and we can hardly ask him to elaborate. I'm starting to think that most of my forefathers preferred oral accounts to written history. I could find some things, hints only, which were documented, but it's not much. Even with the Reperio charm, research has proven difficult."

"That seems a little careless to me." She scoffed, her pinched mien conveying her discontent.

He couldn't agree more; all in all, it was more than just a tad frustrating. If it wasn't for Hermione's repeated presence, he'd probably have gone rampant already. Leaning closer to her, he barely resisted sniffling her. There would be time for that later. Now was about solving the Malfoy mystery.

"I don't appreciate it much either, but it is what it is. I thought there must be a distinct reference somewhere. A name, or maybe a place. But now I don't think Abraxas' mind worked that way. I did find a couple of more suspicious clues, though. We'll just have to keep translating Abraxas' runes. I—" He fixed her with a determined look, straightening his back with a sense of pride. "I have three whole parchments full of remarks and references."

Hermione lifted her head, her smile radiant. "That's good news. Will we go through them tonight? Or would you prefer translating more of the journals first?" Then, nibbling on her lower lip as she must have been interrupting her own train of thought, she added, "It might make more sense to go through your findings and keep them in mind when evaluating the remaining ones."

"Easier to find more patterns, yes."

"I can't wait to see what you found!"

Of course, this short moment of basking in her enthusiasm was interrupted, as well. The bloody bastard of a waiter must have developed a sense for the most inopportune of timings. This time, when he came to clear their plates, Draco covered her hand with his own. Her skin was a bit cooler than his, but even this small area of contact sent contentment coursing through his system. He threaded his finger through hers.

Hermione's eyes darted between their connected fingers, Draco's own eyes, and the waiter. The corners of her lips tugged up. With an infinitesimal twitch of her eyebrows, she skimmed her thumb over his knuckles. Something within him almost purred in satisfaction.

"Dessert?" he asked, voice a bit smug.

All too soon, she pulled away, leaning back on her chair. The tip of her tongue flitted out and travelled across her bottom lip. "Thank you, but I'm full." She cast a glance at the waiter and waited until he left upon Draco's dismissal. Her eyes had become half-lidded. "But maybe tonight? Sometimes I feel kind of… peckish in the evenings."

It probably took only half a second for his brain to process her meaning, but as soon as it had, most of the blood had left his head and rushed south. The sweet scent of her hair pushed to the front of his perception while his imagination did somersaults replaying his favourite fantasies of her.

Straddling him, tits bouncing, as she sank down onto his cock and fucked him into heaven and beyond.

As soon as he pushed that image away, the next one played out in his mind.

His head between her thighs, tongue painting firm circles around her clit, making her arch her back.

He needed to calm down, and quickly.

Bent over this very table as he spread her arse cheeks apart so he could see his cock glistening with her wetness, could see it moving in and—

"Ice Wind, Granger. Now," he gritted out.

She snickered, the minx. Hermione cast the spell, twice, not even trying to hide her amusement. The glacial wave blanketed his side of the table with a wispy layer of hoarfrost. "That was for earlier," she admitted, then she turned serious. "I don't appreciate inappropriate mood swings like that, especially when they seem to be based on a misguided sense of possessiveness. Do make sure this sort of thing doesn't happen again."

He winced, feeling chilled rather by the coldness in her voice than the cooling charm. "I—sorry. This… disposition seems to be a side-effect of the curse." Despite this acknowledgement and his best efforts to control himself, he suspected that it wouldn't take that much to rile him again. The mere thought of somebody else making advances on her angered him. Rubbing his hand over his face, he tempered his feelings down as quickly as he could. A fair bit more collected after a handful of moments, he continued, "I was hoping more research on Abraxas' potion studies would bring a revelation."

"Alright." Her stern expression softened a little and the gleam returned to her eyes. "But I'd really like to postpone any kind of dessert to later."

Dessert.

In a change of emotions which almost gave him whiplash, he turned from suppressed anger to burning arousal again. His cock was once more steel-hard and pulsing against the placket of his trousers. He'd love to simply grab her and apparate somewhere more private. Seeing as they weren't on such an intimate level—yet—he buried his fingertips into his thighs instead of her hair and tried to centre his mind on the pain.

The pain and not the image of her, naked and spread out for him, taking an appendage deep into each and every one of her—no.

He clenched his jaws. His cock was aching, and the skin on his back and forehead was stretched to what he considered its limit. He really didn't want to go all-appendages in public.

"All right," he said in a tight voice. "We'll have dessert tonight."

Hermione smiled, but then gasped after a cursory glance at her wristwatch. "I'm very sorry to cut this short, but I have to go back to work. Anything much longer than an hour for lunch will raise eyebrows, even if it's for business," she explained in lieu of an apology when she picked up her purse. "Thank you for the invitation. I enjoyed the food and your company." Her smile was warmer than the distanced politeness might have suggested.

Her sudden impending departure did nothing to kill his erection. Getting up gingerly due to the shortage of space in his trousers and the ensuing discomfort, he stepped to her. He was too late to pull the chair out for her, but that didn't mean he'd let her leave without a goodbye. A proper goodbye. It didn't matter that the privacy charms of the entrance would only blur the details if anyone paid any mind to the ongoings in the room. It almost didn't matter that there was an uncomfortable bulge between his legs, and that her glance centred on it before her eyes snapped up. He couldn't tell if the blush on her cheeks was from embarrassment or arousal, or maybe both. Merlin, what would he give to ravish her. All in good time, he chanted in his head, all in good time.

"I'm happy you could make time." He tucked a curl behind her ear in lieu of the earlier-considered Apparition, stepping close enough to take another deep breath of her intoxicating scent.

The tender gesture was an instinctual move. By her reaction, it was the right one. Hermione's eyes zoomed on his mouth and when she closed them, she tilted her head upwards.

Draco really wanted to snog the living daylights out of her. Lips damp and parted, she was the embodiment of kissable. Her lashes were so long that they were resting on her cheekbones, fluttering a little as if she weren't certain whether she should open them or not. On top of that seductive display, he now was near enough to detect a hint of arousal beneath her scent. His appendages throbbed under his skin and he felt them breaching the surface. If he gave in completely, he would have to repair yet another shirt.

He kissed her soundly, lips slightly parted to feel hers pliant against his. Pressing her delectable self flush against him, she opened her mouth to take over the lead. A suppressed moan escaped from his throat when he cupped the sides of her face with both hands. Hermione's eyes focused again on his as he pulled back, the becoming tint on her cheeks deepening.

"I'll see you tonight," he murmured.

Drawing her head back to look up at him, she stroked her palm over his neck and shoulder to trail over his back. The partly extended appendages under the cloth of his shirt shivered in anticipation, and he felt his stomach swoop. She smiled, the bite of her teeth on her bottom lip decidedly mischievous as she gave one a light squeeze. "Yes. See you then."

Watching her as she walked through the parting magical shield over the entrance, he could have sworn she'd added a little more sway to her perfectly plump arse. He grinned.

ooOoOoOoo

It was half six already when Hermione finally finished another series of unravelling charms. The past four hours hadn't brought much in results, and despite loosening another layer of charms, the box still stood stubborn, steadfast, and closed. She had been beginning to lose her patience hours ago, and by now, she was ready to just slice Malfoy's hand open and spray his blood all over the damned thing. Fleetingly, she reminisced about her loss of patience, but she quickly shoved the thought away. It was a good thing that she now managed to master the power of her magic better.

Her workbench and her lab desk were both littered with grooves and stains of more violent attempts at breaking those curses and from older projects, an ever-present reminder that her work wasn't an ordinary nine-to-five job.

However, she made sure to leave everything as neat as possible, just as she did every evening. While her desk wasn't the epitome of tidiness, she couldn't stand starting work with cleaning up her lab first. The notes and results of the day were stacked in one corner already, just waiting for her to pick them up and bring them upstairs to her office after she locked the lab.

The way up the spiral-staircase was more tedious than usual today. She swiped the back of her hand over her forehead, and it came back with a sheen of sweat. Groaning inwardly, she tried to decide quickly on what to do. There was no time to go home and make herself presentable; a simple set of cleaning charms would have to be sufficient. She didn't plan on letting Malfoy into her knickers tonight anyway. She'd like to save that for when she wasn't as wrung out from a full day at work.

Her mind lingered on the fantasies she'd been cultivating for days, often accompanied by the buzz of her toy. Images of him holding her up with his tentacles, letting her wet core hover in front of his face, just within reach of his tongue. Her skin was thrumming from the idea of his appendages writhing along her limbs, squeezing slightly and wrapping around her breasts. They would shape into spirals, releasing and grasping her breasts again, decreasing in circumference with every round until the tips would form loops that would perfectly encase her nipples and squeeze.

Hermione propped herself on her desk as a stuttering breath left her lungs. She rubbed her legs together, rocking her bum left and right in search of friction. She was wetter, much wetter, than any erotic thought at work should allow.

The thought of work dampened her arousal. Her mind cleared from the worst of the sudden distraction, she shook her head at herself. She couldn't remember ever having felt like that about any other partner she had before, be it emotional or strictly physical. Maybe the repeated exposure to whatever Draco's extra limbs secreted played into that? She still remembered how the contact with them made her skin tingle, even hours later. Merely imagining those aftereffects on her nipples made her cheeks flame. Maybe there was a long-lasting aphrodisiac in it? Then again, she didn't have the impression that her free will was suppressed. There was none of the dull pressure in the back on one's mind or the overwhelming euphoria people had described feeling under the influence of love potions.

She banished all those thoughts to a distant compartment of her mind to finally finish up her workday. Tiredly, she sat down and reached for a stack of notes she intended to take with her tonight. Her gaze wandered over another pile. There had been the letter of her medical results in her owl PO box today. So far, she had only had a preliminary look at the results right when she'd come back from lunch, but didn't have time to examine it in detail.

The report was still on her desk, of course, glaring a hole in the side of her head as she bowed deliberately low over a piece of parchment to scribble down the last of her observations of the curse-breaking. It didn't matter that she had stuck it at the bottom of a small pile. It was there, and she knew it.

She sighed in defeat. Her brain wouldn't let her rest until she'd made sense of it. Smoothing her palms over her trouser-clad thighs, she tentatively pulled out the piece of parchment. She turned it back and forth in her hands. The parchment was cheap, but she didn't expect otherwise from this type of correspondence. With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she unfurled the scroll.

Miss Granger, the letter read,

Thank you very much for consulting us. Regarding your visit on June 14th, 2005, we transmit the following results:

Magical core stability: Pronounced thickness in the proximate half of the 2nd helix, with lateral fraying in section 3b and micro-fractions in section 3d; supposedly a persistent damage which origins in prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus (see report from the 21st of January 2000) leading to akinesia in this region. Adaption of helices 1 and 5 in the concerning core region. Remaining core strands show no further aberrations which would indicate a possible instability under duress.

Ms Granger reported a change in the pattern of magical emissions during a self-performed diagnosis. We conducted the Krechov-Hinger examination (diagrams attached, appendix A).

Results: Approximal tilt of the beta-line with discerned, unusual dorsal plateau after 2 seconds. Symptoms of an Unbreakable Vow (84 % probability).

Ms Granger is fit for work and no further examinations are required.

Signed Healer Crowley

Vow Magic. Hermione was so relieved about the notice that she almost missed another, handwritten note which was pinned to the end of the formal letter. In a small, tidy script below, it read: —

Dear Ms Granger, out of scholarly interest and in the interest of furthering the scientific knowledge of magic, I'd like to invite you for a prolonged research session. I and my group are examining the development of familial magical properties, and if my experience doesn't betray me, you must have Vowed to an old family. Please transmit your preferred date and time, and I'll be happy to explain this project in depth.

A. C.

Hermione's eyes focused again on her notes, knowing very well that her main concerns should be the box and Malfoy's curse, not a mere change in her magical pattern due to a Vow. Still, she found it difficult to shake off the insistent urge to know more about Vow Magic. Talking to the healer wasn't a real option. Having hers and Malfoy's business examined all too closely by a stranger was something she wanted to avoid at all costs. She wasn't even sure what their business was exactly, either, only that the Malfoy curse was to be kept secret. Maybe she'd find time for research on Vows at some point, though.

She put the report and the utensils she might be needing tonight into her handbag, shouldering it as she extinguished the light before she locked her door. Gringotts was already mostly empty when she made her way to the ladies'. A quick look in the mirror made her frown. Hair stuck out of her bun and there were shadows under her eyes, but that could be fixed quickly. A few minutes and spells later, she felt more confident in her appearance. She opened another one of the top buttons of her blouse and smiled at herself.

Now she was ready.

Please let me know what you think! Praise and constructive criticism are 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.

I have begun to do some minor editing work on earlier chapters. Nothing about the plot will change, though, so re-reading them isn't necessary. Thank you all for your support!