First and foremost, THANK YOU for reading, kudosing, and commenting! I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me that you're still sticking with this story ? ﾟﾒﾖ?!
A new chapter! I know it always takes forever for me to update but please know I'm still working on this fic and I will until it's finished. I mean I've written delicious smut already... can't waste that ;). This also means: AGAIN there is no smut in this chapter. I'm so sorry for keeping you all on your toes, but it WILL CUM (or better yet, Hermione and Draco will) in the next chapter, hehe.
My deepest thanks go to TheLastLynx for her relentless encouragement and input during the alpha rounds, to Riptide for his continued beta and tireless explaining, and to Astoria_j13 for the competent Britpick and the laughs that always come when we talk about our languages! Any remaining mistakes are my very own.
This work is crossposted from AO3 where I usually post a little bit earlier than FFN. Please go there to see my aesthetics for this story :).
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 shot Hermione a small smile as he finished his transaction at the dark wooden counter. She was pleased with his punctuality—and his smile—although she assumed the former came with his good breeding. The top of his cloak was unbuttoned, showing a triangle of the lapels of his suit and the matching shirt. He nodded at the goblin at the till and put his receipt and galleons into an embossed leather pouch. Hermione was eager to get to work on the box again and, if she was honest, also to have him near her.
As his long strides brought him to the doorway of the inner section of the enormous Gringotts complex, Hermione mirrored his smile. The Calming Draught in her system certainly should be effective. Since they suspected external forces to be at work, counteracting them with a potion seemed the logical step. It made her a lot more confident about spending a couple of hours in his presence without being overly tempted to rip his clothes off.
Well aware that the bank was filled with customers at this time of day, her greeting was professional yet cordial. She made him take the mandatory secrecy oath Gringotts required from all visitors accessing anything other than the vaults. The entire way to her office they exchanged nothing but pleasantries, only too conscious of the goblin steering the cart. Below the layer of calm, Hermione felt a twinge of unease; this sober interaction for the public eye when they were much more familiar with each other was not for her. She preferred playing with open cards when it came to her friends and foes.
As soon as they entered her realm, leaving the goblin behind, she was a lot more comfortable. She motioned to the hooks behind her door, so he would put his cloak there.
"So, this is what Gringotts's offices look like." He strolled into the room, and her eyes slid from his wide shoulders over his back. That was where she knew his appendages were hidden under the crisp white of his shirt and his pale skin. She sneaked a glance further down. His dark trousers sat neatly on his hips, fitting snugly around his firm bum, while the neat crease of expert ironing enhanced his already deliciously long legs even more. Hastily, she flicked her eyes back up again. Being caught blatantly ogling wasn't one of her plans for the day.
Draco first turned to the bookshelves dominating the room with her personal collection of specialised literature. Next, he inspected her desk. She was glad to have left it in an acceptable state despite her rush to arrive at the entrance hall on time. She shouldn't have spent so much time staring into her tea during her lunch break as she reminisced about how good he had felt on her skin yesterday.
Realising that he was waiting for a verbal cue from her, she blinked, dispersing the re-emerging pictures her mind so eagerly supplied. "The room is small but sufficient. The box is down in the laboratory, but I must give you safety instructions first. You're obliged to follow these rules at all times. No food, no drink, no touching of anything—"
"Anything?" he threw in while he sidled up so closely that their fronts almost touched. His tie grazed her chin ever so slightly. She had to put her head back to keep eye contact. Beneath the sudden excitement racing down her spine, Hermione felt a quick sting of annoyance at the interruption. The cedar of his cologne mixed with the clean scent of his shirt as she breathed him in. Hermione forced herself to keep eye contact at all cost.
She shifted from foot to foot, a hint of slickness between her thighs. She was exasperated at how quickly her body reacted; she wasn't one of Pavlov's dogs, for crying out loud! "You're not helping," she pressed out between gritted teeth.
"Hm," he said, neither in admittance nor clarification of his intent, leaving a peck on her temple before he stepped back. The short contact left a prickle on her skin and a bunch of wildly fluttering butterflies in her belly. She took another deep breath to compose herself. His eyes dropped to her mouth but he was quick to meet her gaze again. "Apologies. Do continue."
"No touching, especially not the curse-breaker. Let me work in peace, and when I tell you to do something you'll have to follow it immediately. I doubt you'll like that much." Hermione steadily kept her eyes on his, ignoring the way the corners of his lips lifted an infinitesimal amount. "Still, you will have to adhere to the rules."
Malfoy tilted his head to the side. She opted to interpret it as agreement instead of repeating herself more pointedly as she would have done with other people. Her studies with him had shown her that he wasn't as inconsiderate as to underestimate the dangers of Dark Magic.
"Do you have a lot of visitors down here?" He wandered back to her shelves, pulling out a book on Slavic curses and their use during the early Middle Ages. His fingertips traced over the title on the front. "Demanding literature."
Hermione pursed her lips at his words. "I have a demanding profession." His remark rubbed her the wrong way; he should know better than doubting her qualifications.
Draco lifted and spread his hands slightly in acquiescence. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise." He held her challenging gaze. "It's simply not something I'd expect anywhere outside of a library. But if not on your shelf, where else?" There was a teasing lilt in his voice and a smile curved his lips.
She relaxed the crease between her brows, but she was still a bit miffed. "Don't do it again." Taking a deep breath to push the issue aside, she turned the focus back to her previous inquiry and asked, "Are we clear on the lab rules?" She expected nothing but an explicit confirmation when it came to the behaviour in her lab. There was always the chance that an artifact proved more dangerous than anticipated.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, ducking his head a bit. Despite being a head taller, he managed to look at her from under his eyelashes.
Hermione licked the tip of her tongue along the corner of her mouth, half-tempted to demand proper retribution. A kiss, maybe. Considerably grovely, it might placate her. When it didn't come, she simply acknowledged his answer with a short nod. She knew that he would do exactly what she demanded from him—no touching—but she couldn't help the stab of disappointment. Mentally, she shook her head at herself at the irrational behaviour.
"Take some of the books with you that interest you, and let's get you to the lab. Dismantling all those protection charms might take a while." She opened the passage to the spiral staircase and motioned for him to follow. "I will attempt to lift a series of those spells that I believe have a powerful component of blood magic added to them. At first glance, they look like a twisted version of simple locking charms, but they've withstood all the common and not so common countercharms in my repertoire." When they arrived at the door to her lab, she released her wards and let him in. "One of the scrolls from your library hinted at more anomalous aspects of Blood Magic in combination with certain wood types which might have been used here, too, but I don't know how prevalent that knowledge would be, even in seasoned Dark Arts practitioners. Nevertheless, two other books suggested a few additional, possible solutions."
Draco let his eyes wander until they centred on her lab bench. Nearing the box placed in the middle of it, his eyes widened and he blew air out between his lips in astonishment. "It's a beautiful example of artisan craftwork. Is that elder wood?"
"And black limba, yes."
"Communing with the Dark Arts and strengthening their aspects." He whistled softly. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like this." Moving closer, he threw her a quizzical glance. Hermione cancelled the outer protection spells, and only after she had confirmed that it was safe to continue, he leaned forward to inspect the container. She wondered whether the ornamental patterns swirled to entice his touch like they had hers.
"There's a family crest," she explained. "It's tiny; use the magnifying glass on your right."
Draco stepped around the table as he swirled the glass between his fingers, occasionally bending forward to inspect a detail more closely. "Of course it has the Black crest," he huffed after a short while. He put the magnifying glass back and turned toward her. "I definitely haven't seen this box before. What's your course of action?"
Hermione shuffled around him to lift her second layer of protection charms with a series of practised flicks of her wrist. Now, only the box's own wards stood between them and the content. "The problem with the spells I've chosen is that I'll need a drop of your blood for each one. It'll take a while, and I don't think keeping the cut open will be particularly enjoyable."
He contorted his face as if he was feeling the prolonged pain already. "No, it won't."
"I can't syphon them into one general spell like you did two weeks ago when we started to work with your warded documents. I couldn't find out if one exists at all. We'll just collect a little in that vial"—she held up a small glass vessel—"and I'll put an anti-coagulation charm on it. You can destroy the remaining blood after I'm finished."
Draco acquiesced, and after Hermione had collected the blood, she ushered him to her lab desk to take a seat, while she began to incant the first set of spells. Half an hour in, it became clearer and clearer that concentrating fully on her task was only marginally better compared to the previous days. It seemed that even the dose of a Calming Draught didn't numb all of her attraction to him.
During the past years she had grown a fondness for working on intricate curses alone and without interruptions. Even her boss knew to leave her be when she laboured on a difficult project. Today, she did not only have another person present, the fact that it was Malfoy danced merrily at the forefront of her thoughts. She couldn't help but wonder what impression she made on him. On top of that, she had to keep a tight grip on the enhanced magic she continued to experience in his presence, so her spell-casting was measured to avoid destruction caused by a magical short-circuit. That alone was exhausting.
She suspected that it still would have been worse without the potion. Breathing deeply again, she threw him a furtive glance. A book lay cracked open on the desk, but he didn't look at it. Instead, his gaze was fixed on her.
Hermione ran her tongue over her lips. She knew there was a sheen of perspiration on her face, hot as she felt. Was her hair frizzy yet? Her hand lifted a fraction before she stopped in her tracks. The instance she realised what she was doing, she shoved any doubts about her appearance away, but as his eyes wandered over her body, she had to actively suppress the urge to stand straighter. To push out her breasts, just a little, as she walked over to straddle him—
She exhaled slowly, recalling once more why she couldn't—wouldn't—do so.
She was at work; she had a job to accomplish, and they were still in the dark when it came to the origin of Draco's curse.
Despite the extensive training to clear her mind—a skill she had obtained during the war to successfully repel an Imperius curse—concentrating with all her might on the charms was harder than she had anticipated. The more time passed, the more she had to force herself to refrain from glancing at Draco. It didn't help that her attempts to break the wards on the box remained futile, either. She was growing frustrated, though she did her best to swallow the feeling. At least Malfoy heeded her earlier instructions and stayed away.
A few exhausting hours of failure after failure later, Hermione had depleted her arsenal of counterspells. She rolled her shoulders forward and back to ease the pain that had settled in hours ago and went over to Draco. Drained, mentally and physically, she had reached the end of her magical reserves. The Calming Draught had probably lost its efficacy, too, but she was too worn out to really care. Holding out the vial with the rest of his blood, she said, "I'm done. Unfortunately, it seems that your relation is too distant for what these wards require."
He leaned back from the table; the book he had finally started to read was lying open somewhere in the middle. His nose scrunched up as he took the vial. "That's inconvenient." He closed the book and put it back on the pile of the others he'd brought down with him, placing the remnants of his blood in front of him.
"Quite. I had two instances where the wards were wavering though. I'll contact Andromeda Tonks for further assistance."
"Incendio ampullam." He performed a sharp flick of his wand, and the vial and its contents went up in a flare of heat. Only a thin curl of smoke meandered up and fizzled out. Getting up, he straightened his trousers and shirt with casual tugs. "My mother is a Black, too."
Hermione bit the inside of her lower lip to suppress a grimace. Asking Narcissa Malfoy for a favour was the last thing she wanted to do, so if there was the tiniest chance of avoiding it, she'd take it. "I have connections to Andromeda through Harry. It's much easier that way."
"I see." His eyes roved from her to the box. "So…" he began after a few seconds of silence, appearing on the cusp of moving but choosing not to do so, "a week without contact."
Hermione swallowed as she neared him instead, her feet practically moving of their own volition. "I suppose we shouldn't send letters either, not even to keep each other up-to-date about new findings. We need a clean slate."
He pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, the line of his neck tensing as if it took effort to look so nonchalant. Maybe it did. "That seems... rational."
Hermione stepped closer, running a fingertip over his blue tie before she wrapped her hand loosely around it. "In fact, we'll have to make sure we won't come into contact—accidentally."
"Indeed," he said, a sigh tailing his concession. "I'll refrain from visiting Gringotts for the time being." He wet his lips.
Hermione's focus locked onto his mouth and refused to move anywhere else as their surroundings melted away. Just like that, her desire to feel him, to kiss him, took over. Raising herself up on her tiptoes, she tugged him down by his tie to meet him in a hungry kiss. He responded leisurely, with slow but sensual movements of his lips. She felt how the corners of them lifted, the knowledge that her kiss made him smile sending a wave of delight through her.
He dipped his head further down and brushed his nose along her jaw, his breath hot on her neck. "I thought 'no touching'?" he murmured. The timbre of his voice resonated against her skin, and it stirred a deep need within her. Her fingers slid along the line of his jaw and then traced the shell of his ear. His inhale was sharp, followed by a slow exhale before he continued, "Otherwise I would have offered a massage already. You look exceptionally tense."
Massage.
Her heart jumped into her throat as she immediately was barraged by a myriad of pictures of how this massage would go. Instinctively, her head fell back to allow him better access while he smattered her skin with tiny pecks.
Strong hands with nimble fingers kneading her shoulders while his tentacles slithered over her limbs, massaging her flesh and finding every one of her sensitive spots.
She opened her eyes again, flitting her tongue over her bottom lip but she couldn't stop the next image invading her mind. Her hips shifted. To get just a bit of the friction she craved so much. Draco nibbled on a particularly sensitive spot just below the edge of her jaw and a gasp escaped her throat.
Bent over with her palms on her office shelf, breasts swinging between the lapels of her unbuttoned blouse and her trousers around her ankles as he pummeled into her with his appendages.
She grappled at the edges of her consciousness with all her might, heaving herself out of the pit of her daydreams once again. After a second in which she collected herself as well as she was able she moved her hands to his chest and pushed slightly against them. "The no touching rule only applies to you, of course." Hermione's fingertips itched to trail along the faint outline of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt. More evenly than she felt, she added with a smirk, "I'm in charge here."
Heat flashed in his eyes as she caught his gaze. He leaned an infinitesimal amount closer. "No objections," he said, and his gravelly words sent a thrill across her back that left her skin buzzing.
Her pent-up restraint of the afternoon was aching for an outlet.
Her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders and neck, stopping on his cheeks and finally carding through his hair. Impatience breaking through, she tugged his head down to press her mouth on his.
He let out a low noise, half moan, half something much more desperate. He immediately deepened the kiss, pressing his body flush against hers. Despite her silent plea for his touch, he kept his hands in his pockets, and at last, Hermione figured out what she was missing.
Reluctantly, she broke the kiss but couldn't resist chasing his taste with her tongue. "Did you spontaneously learn to control your tentacles?" she asked as she ran her hands down his back, searching for the tell-tale movements under his shirt. There were only the two rows of small stubs.
Unexpected dismay tugged at her. By now, she took for granted that she could elicit that response from him. Furthermore, she wanted that response, wanted his tentacles to wrap around her. Just the thought of them on her skin increased the wetness between her thighs. She closed her eyes for a second and forced herself to pay attention to the current situation again and not her daydreams.
"I found more on the research for the potion Abraxas was working on, so I brewed a Calming Draught with more lavender than the usual recipe and a pinch of moonstone." The tone of his voice was proud, even a little smug as his hands found their way onto her hips. He squeezed them a little. "Vile stuff, I'm afraid." His face scrunched up at the vivid memory of the taste. "But it seems to have some effect, at least, and I was hoping the long-term usage would be less problematic."
"You're right. The moonstone should counter the rapid loss of effectiveness of a regular Calming Draught while simultaneously enhancing its potency."
"That's what I was thinking. I've considered substituting some of the crocodile heart with shrivelfig next time to improve the taste."
"Not sure if having a foul earthy taste instead of a foul bloody one can be considered a gustatory improvement." She smiled as she leaned back, stroking her palms down over his covered tentacles. There was a twitch under his skin as her hands lingered. While that would have worried her only a few weeks ago, probably even repulsed her, now, it raised her heartbeat to know the effect she had on him.
Her hands wandered further down until they trailed across the small of his back. Hermione put her cheek against his chest and squeezed him slightly, just for a moment. She heard a content rumble in his chest that resonated her own feelings.
Finally, she stepped back from him completely. "I've had a Calming Draught myself before you arrived. The regular, store-bought kind."
"It seems to have worked." His eyes glinted with self-satisfaction. "Mostly."
"I wonder whether the effect would be greater if we both had taken yours."
Draco raised his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only one way to find out."
"Next week."
"Next week," he agreed with a wry smile.
Thoughts? I'm so curious to know if any of you have already an inkling about what's going on... Praise and constructive criticism are very welcome! In case you wish to contact me by email, please have a look at my profile over on AO3, or you can reach me on my tumblr: o0sarena0o. Stay safe and healthy, everyone! 3