I am far too busy for this.
I look down at the glittering green invitation in my hands, delivered by an owl just moments ago. Some stupid ball, with short notice and barely any time to prepare, and at Malfoy's new home, no less.
I sigh. I have to make an appearance. My term as Minister only began months ago - it would raise suspicions if I was absent.
It's four o'clock in the afternoon, and I was leaving my office to go home, run a nice bath, and read for the next several hours.
However, I now have to hurry to prepare for tonight. I curse the Malfoy name under my breath over and over on my way to the Floo; pausing for a moment to speak my home address; and continuing my barrage as I walk into my living room.
I move as quickly as I can, getting a shower and drying my hair before diving into my closet.
I went shopping several months ago with Ginny.
"You need a new dress for each ball," she said.
Though I did not agree with her, I obliged, using my new (and incredibly high) salary to purchase a few gowns, and heels, to fit the part of Minister.
Today, I thank Merlin, the Gods, and the universe itself. I know exactly what to wear.
I pull the dress out and lay it on my bed while I apply my makeup and pin my hair on each side so that it falls naturally down my back.
By then, it's nearly time to leave, so I hurriedly step into my dress and decide on a pair of shoes: a high, black silk pair, from a Muggle designer that my mother favored.
I step into the mirror to look at my reflection.
My jaw slowly drops. "I clean up well," I say softly to myself.
The dress is black silk, with a cowl neck and boned corset. A slit runs up to the top of my thigh. It does wonders for my skin tone, and my confidence skyrockets. Maybe tonight will be the evening I find a man suitable enough for a date. Thank you, Ginny.
I put on my best diamond earrings, strap my wand to my covered thigh, and race to the Floo.
When I arrive, the castle is bustling with people. It's large, light, and beautiful - the opposite of Malfoy Manor. Despite the size, it seemed cold, dark, and cramped. I shiver at the memories that I made there.
I step up onto the walk and make my way inside.
Several people greet me as I walk in, and it takes over an hour for me to make it to a waiter to find something to eat - which turns out to be my absolute favorite: chocolate croissants. I thank him hurriedly and take two, and walk over to the bar to find a drink.
The bartender recognizes me immediately, and says, "Minister Granger, how are you?"
"A bit tired, and thirsty," I say honestly. "And you?"
"I'm tired as well, but fortunately, not thirsty," he jokes. "What can I get you?"
"Just a strawberry daiquiri. Virgin." I need to think clearly tonight, and I am in no mood for a hangover. If I drink one, I'll want another... and it will turn out poorly.
He brings me my drink, and I sit and try to eat as daintily as I can manage, before a waiter comes by and brings me a tray of small sandwiches. Real food. I take large bites in between light conversation with surrounding people.
After a couple of minutes, I finally see Malfoy. Walking around with an elderly woman on his arm, looking quite the charmer.
I only see him from the back - his hair is enough to recognize him - but I overhear, "Of course I will make that donation. I would love to see what you do."
I roll my eyes, smiling politely at the woman to my right asking me about the current Muggle Affairs - God bless her, I believe she thinks I am the Prime Minister.
After a bit, Malfoy makes his way to the stage, giving a brief speech about how grateful he is, how lucky, how generous he wants to become; blah, blah, blah. I tune him out for most of it.
He leaves the stage, bidding everyone a good evening, before walking in my general direction.
I didn't see him up close before.
Tall, built, with broad shoulders under his all-black suit. Messy hair and clear, pale skin. I see rings on his fingers and a thin silver chain on his neck.
I haven't seen him in almost a year: I have avoided all interaction with him, doing my best to skirt around him at events, never looking at him directly.
He is fucking sexy. I kick myself inwardly for the private admission. No, he is not sexy. He bullied you, went to the wrong side of the War, and expects you to love him just like everyone else.
Yet, my breath catches in a way that it hasn't since I was a schoolgirl.
His eyes aren't on me, thank Merlin, but rather a man three people to my left. I walk away from them then, hoping to maintain my streak of avoidance. I quickly walk to the garden to breathe in the night air.
It's fairly empty, save for a few couples swaying back and forth to the music. I sit on the bench and face the estate.
It's beautiful. Rolling green hills, a lake in the center - I spot a dock and a few white chairs beside it. My eyes continue on, and I see a small field of flowers in the distance. Probably to provide the flowers decorating the garden I'm sitting in.
I breathe in, taking a moment to myself before standing up and heading to go inside.
I face-plant into a wall of black suit and hard muscle.
No.
"Excuse me," I say hurriedly, ducking my head and going around, gathering my skirt in my hands tightly so they don't tremble.
Not today.
A large, strong hand flies out and grabs my waist.
"Pause a moment, Granger." A deep, rumbling voice. I curse myself again for finding it so hot.
His grip is tight, hard, and firm. He moves up to stand in front of me. I still look down at my heels. They make me tall, but not tall enough to feel strong in this moment.
"Fucking look at me," Malfoy says again.
I take in a breath and bring my eyes up to his. Merlin, he is so beautiful.
"How can I help you?" I ask.
"I was wondering if I could have a word with the Minister about any possible financial contribu-"
I cut him off. "Fuck you, and fuck your blood money. There's a reason you can't reach the Ministry. I have drawn a stern line at anything coming from you." I speak quietly, but the hostility seeps into my tone.
He glares at me then. "Blood money?"
"Your father's money, yes?"
His grip tightens on my waist. "I'm trying to do something good with it."
"For what?" I say. "To make yourself feel better? To get back in the good graces of the public? You may have done that, but I have not forgiven you. Now get your grubby little hand off before I hex your entire fucking arm off."
Instead, he spins me around so my back is to his chest, and in a moment too quick for me to comprehend, he has my wand in his hand. He tucks it up his sleeve.
"Granger, I want to show you something, so come with me." Malfoy says this calmly.
"You bloody little - I'll make your life a living hell if you don't give me my wand back this instant. I swear to God you are dead." I twist in a valiant attempt to escape his grip, but fail. "Fuck you."
Malfoy leads me away, out of the garden, where the couples have turned to stare. "Just taking a breather," he calls to them.
I try my best to not make a scene, so I offer a strained smile and try to wedge my fingers underneath his, to no avail.
I note that the majority of the people have begun to leave. None of them seem to notice as I am pushed down a corridor, to the left, down yet another corridor, and into a room.
I don't even register where I have been led to. Malfoy flips me around again. "You will remain here until I return. I would like to speak with you, do you understand?"
Now in private, I throw my arms out, kicking and punching and hitting anywhere I can. He takes it all, and I realize then that I should work on strength-training a bit more.
"If you don't stop it, I will tell everyone that you got extremely drunk and vomited all over yourself and had to go home," Malfoy says, his voice tense.
I believe him, and I can't afford that, so I stop.
With a flick of his wand, I am launched through the air towards the back wall of the room, and the door slams shut.
I land safely and slowly on my feet, thank Merlin, and I look around at my surroundings.
It's his fucking bedroom. Of all places. I scream and shout in anger, knowing no one can hear me. I run to the door and shake it, trying my best to force it open. No luck.
I wander the room to try and find a way out. I notice that his sheets are cream-colored, made of smooth silk, and bedding to match. I see the door to his closet ajar, and various items of clothing around the room. It's a frighteningly intimate view into his life, and I hate it. It makes him into a real person, not a phantom of my past or name in the Daily Prophet.
Previously ignored, his window falls back into my line of vision.
I'm on the second story of a fucking castle, I tell myself. There's no way.
My legs have other ideas, because I find myself opening the large window and gazing out. People are still leaving, but they are so far away I would be just a noise in the wind.
I look down. It's... far. I look to the right and see another part of the roof, just ten or so feet down. I'm sure I would be fine, right? I could figure it out from there. I slide off my heels, bidding them farewell as I pull myself up to the ledge and swing my legs over. I'm growing the courage to inch myself off so that I can drop down when I am suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked off of the ledge completely, and away from the window.
Malfoy stands there, a look of alarm on his face, his arm behind my back and under my legs.
"Are you fucking serious?" he asks. "Are you out of your mind? You would have died."
"A bit dramatic, I'd say," I retort. "And you wouldn't care anyway."
He sits me down then, and I see that I am a good head shorter than him. It makes me feel small; smaller than I felt earlier with my heels on.
"I wanted to... apologize." He spits out the words, like he's disgusted to say them. "For everything."
"Apology not accepted." I grab my heels, step into them, and walk towards the door. He doesn't follow me, so I go to turn the handle. It doesn't budge.
I turn around slowly, seeing him standing by the window, staring at me.
"What the fuck did you do?" I ask.
"I put a spell on the door. Neither of us can leave until you accept my apology."
Rage fills me so completely then that I fear I will explode. "Are you fucking mental?" I shriek. "We will never get out of here."
I run past him to the window, but it has swung shut and won't open.
"You might as well hear me out," he says.
I turn away from him. I'll ignore him, that's what I'll do. He'll shut up eventually, I'll get my wand back, and I'll figure this out so that we can leave.
He continues. "I never much cared for blood purity. I followed blindly after my father, and I am embarrassed. I've made multiple contributions that I assure you would make him roll in his grave." Malfoy pauses. "The bullying was unnecessary and did nothing but harm an innocent, young girl. I apologize for my role in your childhood."
I clench my eyes shut. Maybe it'll make this whole scene disappear.
"And as for the War... I regret every minute of it. No, I didn't have a choice, but I hate myself for what I did and for the side that I was on. I would change it if I could."
I don't respond, and I believe that he's finished. I wait for him to either speak, or to sigh in failure and get us out of here somehow.
"And I'm not sure why you've avoided me for so long, but I just want you to know that I am truly a changed man. You're honestly beautiful, Granger, inside and out. And I'm sorry it took me 4 extra years after the War to see that."
I turn on him then, rushing at him, flinging my hands at him in an attempt to slap him. He grabs them and holds them tight.
"You don't get to call me beautiful when you're the one who has made me feel ugly," I yell at him. "You're just rubbing it in at this point. Fuck you."
Malfoy's eyes darken then, and he pulls me in. He leans forward to whisper in my ear.
"I think you're beautiful. I think you in that dress is an absolute sin and that I have counted at least two hundred men this evening that looked at you like they wanted to fuck your brains out."
I try to rip my hands away then, and he holds them even tighter. "Don't be crude," I say, glaring at him.
"That isn't even close to me being crude," he says.
"Gross," I say, and he finally lets me go.
"I mean what I said, Granger. I apologize."
"And I don't forgive you, so take the spell off the door and let me out."
Malfoy shakes his head. "I can't. It's irreversible. And before you worry your little head, there's no countercurse or solution."
I scream in frustration then, pacing about the room. I can't forgive him. We'll be in here forever. I'll have to send a Patronus - if it can even make it out of here - and shower in his bathroom and maybe even sleep in one of his shirts and...
I realize that I'm hyperventilating then, and I fan myself with my hands while Malfoy appears, too close, too much.
"Get the fuck away from me!" I shriek, pushing at him.
All concern on his face fades then, and he grabs my waist and pushes me against the wall.
"You'll chill the fuck out, Granger, do you understand me? No hitting, no screaming, no punching. This is the only solution."
"Solution to what?" I breathe heavily, wanting to fight back but knowing I can't.
"The Minister and the Wizarding World's youngest philanthropist have to be friendly. That, and I want to get in your good graces."
"Well that's not going to happen," I say stiffly, looking up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, and he's breathing heavily too.
Malfoy is so close. So much.
His gaze drops to my lips then, and I follow his eyes with my own. Such dark lashes for such a pale man. I look at his mouth. Such a hot mouth for someone who says such ugly things.
I feel warm, and my breath catches again. This time, he sees it. His eyes meet mine, and a moment later, his mouth is on my own.
It's a rough, brutal kiss. Bruising and biting.
His fingers spread out on my waist, pushing me farther into the wall so he can come closer. My fingers find their way into his hair, and it's like we are trying to devour one another. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, and I'm consumed by him; for once, I relinquish control. I live in this moment.
I feel his hard body dig into mine, and it isn't close enough. I pull a leg out from under him and wrap it around his waist, pulling him closer by my calf.
He grinds against me, moving his mouth to my neck, leaving what I'm sure will become red marks. I lean my head against the wall in an attempt to catch my breath. His mouth moves lower until I feel the back of my dress come undone, and the top fall over my breasts. The cool air hits my chest and I shiver, but Malfoy's hot mouth covers one nipple, and then the other, and then back again, leaving hickey after hickey all over my breasts. He twists the one that is not in his mouth with his finger, and I moan.
He's grinding against me hard now, and my hips meet his own. He moans against my neck, and I shudder as the pleasure grows in my lower belly, the combination of hatred and desire sparking every single one of my nerves.
"Hermione," he says, his breath hot against my mouth, "You have no idea how long I've waited for this."
Before I can respond, he has grabbed my hips and lifted me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, my sensitive nipples grazing the silk of his suit, and he walks us over to the bed while he continues his assault on my mouth.
He throws me on his bed, hands reaching for my dress and pulling it down my legs. I hear the soft fabric fall onto the floor somewhere in the room.
Keeping his eyes on mine, he moves slowly down my body until he reaches my heels, and takes them off slowly, setting them down with a gentleness that makes my heart seemingly skip a beat. He kisses my calves, and then steps back a moment to rid himself of his clothing.
I watch in adoration as he strips off his jacket, vest, and finally, the shirt. Clear, pale skin that stretches over a broad chest, a muscled chest, and faint abs.
The chain does it for me. I lean up, grasping at his belt, and he watches as I undo it. He pushes his pants down to his ankles and steps out of them, kicking off his shoes and socks.
He's still in his boxer briefs, but I see what's underneath. He's hard.
For me.
I shiver at the pleasure of being the cause for this reaction. I stand to meet him, bringing him down for a kiss that makes me weak in the knees. I grab him by the neck and walk backwards until my legs hit the bed, and I sit.
Dragging my fingernails down his torso as he pants heavily, I slide my fingertips under the elastic of his underwear, making eye contact as I pull them down.
He's beautiful. The perfect size, shape, and the faint shine of precum on the tip. My mouth salivates as I stare.
I feel him tense up, and by the time his briefs have hit the floor, I have grasped the base of his dick in my hand and have licked from the top to the bottom.
"Hermione," he says, his voice husky, a hand running through his hair.
"Yes, sir?" I ask, letting my desire get the better of me.
His pupils dilate then, and I lower my mouth on him, swirling my tongue around the tip and sucking in my cheeks. I go all the way down, very faintly grazing him with my teeth as I work my way back up.
His hand digs into my hair, pulling out the pins and letting it fall free. He guides me then, and as I look up at him, I nod, allowing him permission to become more aggressive.
He face fucks me then, and the action is so degrading and hot that I almost orgasm right there; the burning in between my legs is almost painful. He moans loudly, and I hum against him. Malfoy shoves his entire length in my mouth and down my throat, and I bring my other hand down to lightly graze his balls. He thrusts harder; faster.
"Hermione," he moans, his hands tangled in my hair. "I'm going to come."
I pause, bringing my face away for a moment. "And I'm going to swallow."
He moans in response, and I bring my mouth down upon him again as he fucks my face hard, and I suck and swirl until I feel him tense up.
"Oh my gods," he moans. He thrusts, and I feel his warm release shoot into my mouth. I make eye contact as I swallow every last drop.
He takes a second to catch his breath, his still-hard dick throbbing in front of me.
Then something clicks. He reaches down, grabs me, and throws me higher up onto the bed. He crawls over me, kisses from my mouth, to my breasts, to my stomach, and then reaches my underwear.
He peels them down slowly, pinching at my clit. I moan. The feeling is indescribable. My body needs a release.
"So wet," he murmurs from the hickey he is giving me on my hip. "For me?"
"Yes," I breathe out. He continues his motion on my clit in a slow circle, and I moan.
One finger enters me, then two, and his mouth replaces his finger on my clit.
He's rough, not gentle. He kisses, licks, bites.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard you see stars," he whispers, his voice so low that it's dangerous.
My body tenses up, and one hand flings itself to Malfoy's hair. "Malfoy... I'm going to-"
"Draco," he says. "You will call me Draco."
I pause, my alarm making the waves of pleasure skip, before I accept it.
"Draco," I say, and he moans from between my legs. His free arm curls under my thigh and clenches at my hip.
I moan, and the tight knot unravels. The sensation is so strong, so immense, that I shake for several moments after.
He comes back up, a smirk on his lips. "Good girl."
My breath catches, and he shoves his tongue in my mouth, a hand tightly on my breast, before he says, "I'm not going to be gentle."
I nod. "I'm on the potion. I brewed it myself."
"Always so smart," he says against my neck. "So hot."
I moan as I feel yet another hickey being marked on my skin, his tongue swirling around it. He places a kiss on the bruise before coming back up to my mouth. It's a chaste kiss, and I'm confused at the seeming calmness in comparison, but I soon realize that it's to assure his affection of me, because he isn't so kind in the following moments.
He grabs my hips and flips me over, shoving my face into the bed, pressing a hand on my back, and aligning himself before thrusting in completely.
I moan, and he grunts as he forms a harsh rhythm. He grabs my hands and holds them behind my back, and takes his other hand to reach around and pinch my clit.
He moans, and it's the sexiest noise I've ever heard. "So... fucking... good."
Tears fall down my face as the pleasure rises to immeasurable heights. I haven't had sex that much or often - never enough time - and I cannot even begin to form a comparison to how good this feels compared to even what I have done for myself.
I scream obscenities into the mattress, and he releases my hands to grip my hips and pound into me hard.
He pulls out of me then, and flips me over so we are face to face.
He is utterly gorgeous. Messy hair, red cheeks, and swollen lips. I want to remember this forever.
He takes my ankles and places them over his shoulders, and enters me once more. His arms wrap around my legs and he thrusts into me harder than I thought possible. I scream in pleasure, and he groans as I unconsciously clench around him.
He releases my legs, shoving his weight on top of me and bringing his mouth to mine.
"You're such a good girl, Hermione," he moans, and I stare at his face in awe at what I'm feeling.
He reaches a hand around my throat and gently squeezes, his other hand coming back down to my clit once more.
"I'm going to come," he says, and my eyes roll back in my head as my pleasure tightens and tightens.
I moan as he buries himself inside me, his thrusts growing erratic and hurried.
"Gods, you're gonna make me come," I breathe out, a moan escaping my lips as he bends down and spits in my mouth. The act is so degrading, so erotic, that I feel my body tense up.
"Come for me, Hermione," Draco says, grunting after he speaks.
I scream then, the pressure becoming too much; building; breaking. "Draco!" I bring my head to his shoulder and bite down.
At the first wave of my orgasm, he moans my name and thrusts so deep I do, in fact, see stars, and then I feel him release inside me. He moves a couple of more times, and then the crashing subsides, and he releases my neck and I bring my hands back down.
He eases slowly out of me, coming back down to kiss my forehead before turning away, stepping out of the bed, and walking to his bathroom.
Is that it, then? I lie there for a moment before hearing him return with a warm, damp towel and a glass of ice water. He hands it to me to drink, and cleans me up.
I am floored at the kind and thoughtful Draco before me. He looks back up at me and smiles gently before setting the towel aside and extending a hand.
"Care to shower with me?" He asks, cocking his head just so that a piece of hair falls over his eye.
I nod, and we take a hot shower together, with little conversation. He washes my hair, a romantic gesture so sweet that I almost cry.
He gives me a shirt and pair of his briefs to wear, and we sit on the floor beside his fireplace eating chocolate truffles.
"I've been wanting you for a while, Hermione," Draco says quietly. "I'm sorry that I didn't act like it."
I nod, taking another sip of water while trying to formulate my thoughts.
"Well, we all make mistakes."
He smiles. "Perhaps I could take you on a real date?"
I smile back. "That would be nice." I scoot closer to him, and he pulls me against his side, an arm tucked behind my back.
The door clicks open.
