Christmas Eve has crept up on the farm at a slow agonising pace. The days had gotten darker, the wind had gotten colder, and the list of chores to kill time with had gotten shorter. It appeared that eating and playing silly party games were the only things keeping everyone sane.
Hermione was lucky in that she had the responsibility of doing the weekly shopping, however, seeing as everyone was devouring the entire contents of the kitchen, that trip had turned into nearly daily.
Ophelia had taken over Theo's job of being the second hand when going into town, in case of emergencies. They'd gotten used to each other's company after so many walks alone and somehow, Ophelia still managed to look beautiful even with a disguised crooked nose and bottle dyed looking red hair.
It pissed Hermione off for no good reason.
"I think it is a really great idea that we're doing gifts this year despite everything that is happening," The newest Weasley look-alike praised. "It's truly going to brighten everyone's spirits."
Hermione kicked a clump of snow on the side of the country road. "Yes, well, I suppose one present per person is better than none. Did you remember to ask everyone to write down their requests before we left?"
"I did. Who's name did you pull out of the hat?"
"I can't tell you that, that would be breaking the rules."
Ophelia audibly sighed as she laughed, "Well, I got Draco. Though, it is going to be hard to find something for him in town that he won't either despise entirely or already own."
"Seeing as his house was obliterated and he'd run away from his family, I doubt that he owns anything anymore. You could try a sweater that actually fits him?"
"That is actually not a bad idea. Thank you. I'll see if they have anything in that adorable little boutique next to the bakery."
A gust of wind blew by and a chunk of Hermione's transfigured black hair into her mouth. She tried to elegantly pull it out, but it didn't work out so well.
She never noticed how much she waddled like a boy until Ophelia demonstrated otherwise. Her feet balanced in heeled boots with ease, and her shoulders were constantly pulled back like she was in the ballet.
The small town in south-east Scotland was covered in bright decorations. There were fairy lights and tinsel scattered over every shop, making it feel like the inside of a Christmas tree. Men rang big bells and women sang carols on the street corners.
None of them really knew of the war raging on the skirts of their muggle life-styles.
Ophelia insisted on going into the boutique first before they ticked off any of their other presents. She ended up coming out with a red sweater that Malfoy would most definitely not appreciate. Out of pure selfishness, Hermione told her it looked great and he would adore it.
Looking at the list they'd been given, there was a line-up for gifts for Secret Santa. Hermione knew that Fred had Ophelia and her present wasn't put on the paper so she wouldn't know. Same went for her own gift, which Ophelia was secretly told.
After a brain numbing amount of hours, both witches had fists full of charmed bags. They'd grabbed wrapping paper and ingredients for a Christmas dinner while they were at it too.
When they returned to the farm, Hermione had just about ran out of small talk. There was only a certain amount of questions she could ask where in which she ended feeling imcompetant by the end of the answer. Ophelia Jane was perfect, in every way shape or form.
Though, she hadn't defeated werewolves or three headed dogs yet, so Hermione had that much.
By dinner time that night, the very small Christmas tree in the living room was overpowered by a pile of differently shaped presents.
"Reckon I have the one that looks like a cat's head," Dean joked, handing Hermione a cup of hot chocolate as they admired the tree on the couch.
She laughed, "I think I have the one that looks like a football."
"No you definitely the one that looks like a hat," Fred chirped in. "Merlin knows how much you need a hat, 'Mione."
"Don't remind me." She sarcastically rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. It was hot and stung her lip.
"Whatcha think, everyone having this good of a Christmas in the other safe houses?" Dean asked.
"No doubt Mum's making a fuss wherever she is," said George. "Probably knitted everyone a bloody set of pyjamas by now."
They all hummed in agreement. As much as they made fun of Mrs Weasley, the twins missed their mum more than they were letting off. They missed all of their family more than they were letting off.
Malfoy joined them in the living room with Teddy on his hip. The baby was dressed in a green onesie and it made him resemble a little elf. Dean handed over a cup of hot chocolate, to which Malfoy politely declined.
He let Teddy stand on his own feet and held his hands as he guided him to walk over to the Christmas tree. Teddy tried pulling at the baubles and Malfoy told him to use 'gentle hands', which surprisingly worked. He squatted behind the babe and let him lean on his knee while they toyed with the tinsel and watched the lights blink.
Hermione swooned privately to herself.
As did Ophelia when she entered, only her adoration was more public, and vocal.
"You sure know how to make a girl's heart skip a beat, don't you Draco Malfoy?" Her voice was as smooth as butter. Whilst most people would sound stupid if they said that, she made it sound leathery and sexy.
Malfoy turned his head from his squatted position and smirked at the brunette. The same way a movie star does when he puts on aviator sunglasses and walks away from an explosion.
Ophelia joined the blond and pulled down a candy cane for Teddy to gnaw on. The image made Hermione's jaw cramp.
She excused herself but asked if anyone wanted a cup of tea on her way out, as a cover up for the impending attack about to devour her body. To her relief, everyone said no and she ran up to her room to read a book to delay the symptoms.
It helped a little, but if anything it only put her to sleep with bad memories racing against her consciousness.
In her dream, she wasn't visiting an old memory, but rather entering a possible present one. She was with her parents in Australia, in a house she didn't recognise. Her father was yelling at her mother and throwing plates across the room, with a face as purple as an eggplant. A bowl missed the wall and smashed against her mother's hunched back. Hermione tried running to help but her feet were stuck against the carpet.
Her father didn't notice and kept throwing things until blood was pooling around the floor. He kicked over the television and locked himself in another room, while her mother cried silently to herself.
When Hermione woke, she was panting. Her hands were trembling out of control and her chest was so tight she wasn't sure if she was actually taking in air.
The blankets around her legs were boiling her skin. She ripped herself out of bed and fell onto the floorboards. That ringing sound was back. It was deafening and wouldn't let her balance herself to stand.
Her room was getting smaller, and if she didn't leave she'd be smothered to death by it.
Crawling to her nightstand, she pulled her wand down and used the drawers to help herself up. She stumbled a few times on her way to the door but the wall kept her from falling again. The handle of the door was doubling in her vision, and it took four swipes before she successfully grabbed it and escaped her bedroom.
She had no idea what time it was or who was in the house, but she ran as fast as she could out the front door and into the snow covered paddocks. The wind was sharp in her lungs and the ice was freezing her feet. She kept running until she finally reached the end of the farm's boundary fence.
Her legs gave way and she fell onto her knees. Using her wand she cast an unsteady Muffliato before screaming with all the energy her body could provide. She screamed so powerfully her throat was acidic. Her fingers curled around the collar of her shirt and she pulled at it until the stitchings ripped.
When her voice ran out of validity to yell she substituted it for flat out sobs. Hot tears flooded her eyes and stung as they streamed down her cheeks.
She couldn't erase that picture of her father throwing the bowl at her mother's back. The slices of skin that leaked red blood through her white blouse and dripped onto the carpet. It was only a dream but Hermione wasn't convinced.
It was so dark outside and her body was so numb she hadn't realised Malfoy had both hands on her shoulders until he was kneeling in front of her. He searched her for answers, and asked something but Hermione couldn't hear. She just kept crying.
He pulled her in so that her face was squished against his neck and his arms wrapped around her back. She crumbled into his solid embrace.
"Come on," Malfoy smoothed down the back of her hair. "You're alright. You're okay."
Hermione whimpered into his chest and clawed at the front of his coat. She knew she was okay, that wasn't the issue.
"Talk to me, Granger. Tell me what's happening."
She tried to steady her breathing, and he counted along with every inhale and exhale. Counting helped. She liked counting.
"My-my parents," she puffed. "I need to confess to you about my parents."
Malfoy backed up so he could hold the bottom of her face in his palms. "What about your parents?"
Hermione gulped away another round of crying, "I ob-liviated them last year and now they're in Australia."
"Obliviated them from what?"
"Me. I made them forget about me. In case You-Know-Who went looking for them, and searched their minds."
He clenched his eyes shut and shook away a thought. "Is this what is making you anxious? Whether your parents are alright or not?"
"No, I'm-" she bumped her head back onto his collar bone. "I'm anxious because…"
The words 'my father hits my mother' had never actually come out of her mouth before. It'd been something she hadn't shared with anyone, not even Harry or Ron, even though it was suffocating her. They wouldn't have known what to say if she had.
But Malfoy—Malfoy knew next to everything on what to say with things she'd told him.
"My father hits my mother," she finally admitted. "And I left her all alone out there in another country with no one to protect her from him. I dreamt-I dreamt he'd been hurting her again."
His overlarged hand came up and scrunched her hair. Hermione let herself cry for a little bit longer as he held her.
"You really are messed up, aren't you, Granger?" He whispered.
She choked on her laugh as he stroked the back of her shirt. If it weren't for the horrifyingly ugly weeping, Hermione might have been embarrassed by her lack of bra at this moment. Especially given how cold it was outside.
When she wiped the dampness of her cheeks, Malfoy scooped her legs up and carried her bridal style back to the house. He didn't mind how her arms were slung around his neck, or that her head was tucked into his chest either.
It must have been past midnight, none of the lights in the house were on from what she could see.
"I was at the gates when you ran out," he explained. "You didn't hear me call out and given your lack of shoes, I gathered it might have been one of those glass cup situations."
"I'm going for more of a pneumonia type of self harm these days. Really milking the suffering of it all."
He chuckled as deep as the Black Lake and said, "You're an idiot."
With his foot alone he swung the door open and carried her through to the kitchen. He placed her gently on the dining table and checked her hands to see if they had frozen up. They hadn't but she liked how he held them anyway.
She casted a warming charm on herself while Malfoy boiled the kettle.
"Do you dream about your parents often?" He asked with his hip leaning on the sink.
"Mostly old memories, but never ones like that. Part of me thinks that it's my mother trying to send me a message, even though she has no idea I exist. Silly, I know but-"
"Desperate times?"
She sighed, "Yeah."
While the tea bags brewed in their cups, Malfoy went and got left overs of tonight's fried rice from the fridge and handed it to her. Hermione heated it up and thanked him sheepishly.
"Did your father ever do anything to your mother?" She asked. "You said he used to punish you, but did he ever punish Narcissa too?"
"Not to my knowledge, but it wouldn't surprise me if he did. Lucius Malfoy is not necessarily one for open conversation and logical compromise. Did your parents know that you knew?"
She shook her head, "I never called either of them out on it, although I think my mother knew. Their bedroom was only down the hall from mine and silencing charms are not a thing within the muggle world, believe it or not."
Malfoy pushed his tongue to the inside of his lower lip and rolled his eyes, "Funny that."
"I hate my father. I hate him for being so kind to everyone else but not kind to my mother. I hate that he is angry for such a short amount of time that I believe he's still a good person. He was so good when I sent them away. Worst of all, I hate that I have to love him simply because he is my father."
"Granger. There are men who have children and there are fathers. The two are vastly different."
The clock on the wall ticked while he poured milk into their mugs. The two had gone back to their regularly scheduled meets up over the past few weeks, so a quiet moment like this wasn't as uncomfortable as it once had been in the beginning.
They still didn't really talk during the day, but they acknowledged each other's presence more so now and could look one another in the eye.
Every now and then Hermione wondered if Malfoy ever spent nights in Ophelia's room. She hadn't seen him come down from the attic in a while and all the touching that seemed to be happening suggested that they could be sleeping together. Card games can only cure one's boredom for a certain amount of time.
"It's after midnight now," Malfoy announced as he placed her tea by her thigh. "Merry Christmas, Granger."
"Merry Christmas, Malfoy."
He stood in between her legs and smiled with his teeth. She hadn't seen him smile like that, ever. She didn't even know it was physically possible for the corners of his eyes to crinkle.
It was a contagious smile, one that forced her to mirror it.
Hermione looked down at her lap and cleared her sore throat. "Thank you for continuously saving me from these ongoing meltdowns," she mumbled. "Should the time ever arise, I will return the favour. I promise."
"It's alright. I have no doubt that my well-being's demise is coming sooner rather than later, and you shall be the first one that I owl for help."
"The first one, hey?" She swapped her bowl for her cup, and sipped with raised eyebrows. "That's an honour."
"You should take it very seriously," he pursed his lips and mockingly nodded. "You're at the top of the long list of two people I can stand to be around."
Hermione gave a single ha and took another drink. She didn't ask for the name of the second person, she was too afraid to know the answer. Even if she was above them.
They remained in the kitchen until they'd both eaten enough food to make them feel ill. Hermione went to her bedroom first so she didn't have to see whether or not he went to Ophelia's room or the attic.
She didn't sleep that night, both worrisome over her mother and also where Malfoy chose to rest his head.
The twins barged into her room around 7am, both dragging her by the arm to the living room in order to open presents. Harry, Dean and Andromeda were still half asleep in their chairs by the time she was thrown onto the couch.
Cho came in next, yelling at Fred for waking her up before her alarm. Then, Ophelia, who was in a silk nightgown. Finally, Malfoy joined with a golden haired baby in his arms.
George brought in the radio from the granny flat and turned it to a channel that was playing Christmas songs. They were muggle, and only Hermione, Harry and Dean recognised Jingle Bell Rock when it came on. That used to be her grandfather's favourite.
Malfoy let Teddy pick every gift up from under the tree and carried him around the room to hand it to the person whose name was written on it.
Everyone opened their presents at the same time, and a variety of reactions followed. Cho loved her scented candle from Andromeda, George was confused about his sunglasses from Dean and Harry hated his fairy costume from Malfoy.
Turns out Hermione did get the one that looked like a hat. Except, it was a board game from George, which was a not so sly way of him trying to con her into coming back to game nights. She rested her head on his shoulder as thanks, to which he kissed the top of her forehead in welcome.
"What did you get, Ophelia?" Cho asked.
"It appears to be a ball of some kind." She turned it around to examine the football. Everyone looked over to Fred, who was the one that had given it to her.
"Yeah look," he scrunched up his wrapping paper. "Didn't have a bloody clue what to get you, Lia. So, football."
They all laughed at his poor creativity skills. Ophelia was kind enough not to be outwardly disappointed and gave him a sweet smile.
"Look out now, Malfoy!" Dean hollered. "You've almost completed your transition to being a Gryffindor with that thing!"
Hermione couldn't help but snicker at the silliness that was Draco Malfoy holding up his bright red sweater with a face full of disgust. It was so satisfying.
"This is–" Malfoy pressed his lips into a line and sucked on his teeth, "Colourful."
"Don't you just love it?" Ophelia lept from her seat to squeeze herself between the blond and Dean. "I think it would look lovely against your skin tone. Don't you all agree?"
Everyone automatically murmured their concurs, not having the guts to tell her that it was a terrible present. Hermione wanted to bottle up the moment and keep it in her pocket for the rest of her life. Maybe she was transitioning into a Slytherin now, too.
Teddy squealed as he crawled along the floor and tore apart pieces of paper. It was a lot cuter than Ophelia forcing Malfoy to put his jumper on.
Hermione hid her giggle behind a curled finger, and nearly cracked it when he caught her eye and scowled. The good thing was that he owned clothing that was big enough for him to properly fit into now. As painful as it was for him to wear it.
They spent the rest of the morning either playing with their new toys or begging to swap with someone else.
Andromeda insisted on cooking a big breakfast and brought it all out for them to eat in the living room. Christmas tunes played in the background as everyone talked, and Hermione charmed the room so that snowflakes fell from the ceiling and melted when they landed.
Malfoy watched her as she cut up her sausages. She ate them just to spite him, which he rolled his eyes at. Then he went back to feeding Teddy eggs.
Some would say he purposely let the baby throw food at his sweater just so he could toss it in the laundry.
Everyone was too stuffed to move by the time lunch time hit. It took over an hour before Fred and George stole the football from Ophelia and went out to the paddocks to kick it around. Dean wheeled Harry out to watch as well.
Hermione started on the dishes. She'd filled the sink with bubbles by the time Malfoy quietly joined to help.
"Why do I have a feeling that you were the one to suggest red as a good colour?" He purred, letting their shoulders brush.
"There is a good possibility that she had already bought the sweater before I gave my opinion." She handed him a clean pan, "There is also just as good of a possibility that I told her it was a fabulous pick for you."
"I'm going to kill you, Granger."
"Oh really, when?"
"Soon. Trust me."
Hermione purposely bumped her hip against his but played it off as an accident.
"She meant well. Though I'm kind of surprised she doesn't know your style."
"What do you mean?"
The dish in her hand had probably been scrubbed three times over now but she kept cleaning it. "You two are very close, and clearly know each other from school. It's surprising that's all, that she's probably had your tongue down her throat and yet she doesn't know you hate anything to do with red."
"I don't hate everything to do with red." He grinned and shoved her a little when he took the plate out of her hands. "I have also never had my tongue down Ophelia's throat."
"Really? Because you said you fancied a half-blood Ravenclaw back in the day. Are you telling me that it wasn't her?"
"It was her," he said casually. "I just didn't snog her."
"But you've done other things?"
There was a pregnant pause. Hermione was trying to wash the dishes more quietly so she could hear his answer.
"Yes, we've done other things." He didn't say that casually.
She tried to not be bothered by it by replying with, "See, now a woman you've done things with should probably know you a little better. Next Christmas she might get it right."
"You think we're still going to be here next Christmas?"
"No, but I think that you'll still be together by then."
Malfoy folded his towel into three squares and turned to tilt his head at her. "Granger, are you assuming that Ophelia and I are fucking?"
The brutality in which he asked that made her cough. "It is hard not to. I mean, come on, her name is Ophelia Jane for crying out loud. It's so beautiful it even feels good saying it. How could you not want to make someone like her your wife?"
He smiled with his teeth again. Somehow it made her feel tingly and stupid all at the same time.
"I am not fucking Ophelia Jane, Granger. Nor do I want to make her my wife either."
Hermione put on her best acting abilities and shook her head with a funny expression as if she didn't believe him. "Okay. Whatever you say, Malfoy."
She could see him frowning out of the corner of her eye. Her body was in a T shape to his and it was very hard to resist facing him straight on.
While they continued to clean the dishes, Hermione pictured all the different things he and Ophelia had done that weren't snogging. She didn't have a very vast catalogue of experience herself but she had heard stories and read raunchy books that left little to the imagination. Maybe doing it in real life was better than reading it written down.
Cho came through the kitchen to join the boys outside. She wanted to show off how nice her candle smelt when it was lit.
"Draco darling, Teddy is going down for a nap now if you'd like to help?" Andromeda asked, with a heavy eyed baby on her chest.
"You go," Hermione insisted. "I'll finish up here."
Malfoy thanked her but when he got to the threshold to the hallway she called out, "Meet me in my room after though. I have something better than a sweater for you."
He squinted suspiciously. Hermione shooed him away with her hand and went back to the last few pots.
When she'd finished, she ran up to her bedroom, crossing Andromeda's on the way. She caught a quick glimpse of Malfoy patting Teddy's bum in his cot to let him settle and then kept passing. Her room needed a tidy, so she magically put everything away and made her bed before grabbing her purse off her desk.
She accio'd the watch box and quickly wrapped it in a spare piece of paper just in time for Malfoy to knock on her open door with his knuckle.
"Hey," Hermione heaved, hiding the box behind her back. "Teddy go down okay?"
"Yeah, he was practically under by the time I took him. Listen, you're not going to give me another letter from my father, are you? Because I don't have anything good to give you in return."
He stepped in and closed the door with paranoia written all over him. Hermione was tempted to take it back and say that it was all a joke, but she'd come too far. Plus, she couldn't lie to him.
"Uh, not necessarily." She sheepishly took the present out from behind her back and handed it to him. "I should have given this to you a few weeks ago, however, the inner narcissist in me wanted to give this to you today for my own pleasure."
Malfoy took the box and sat on the edge of her bed to open it. He lifted the tape blandly and let it slip from the paper's formed shape. He seemed to have known what it was the moment it landed in his palm.
The box opened with a pop at the hinges. He swallowed thickly and looked up at her fearful face.
"That's the last of my findings within your childhood bedroom, I promise. It was on your nightstand when I was looking for the letter and I figured it had just as much significance. Harry and Ron got a watch too on their seventeenth birthday."
Malfoy closed the box and placed it on the bed. He stood up, slowly. Then walked to her, slower.
She shivered when the back of his fingers curled onto her neck, then brushed down to the skin above the centre of her breasts. There was no way that he couldn't feel how fast her heart was beating.
He bent to lift her up by the back of her legs and drop her on the desk. His palms turned flat where hip met her thigh. Her entire skin was on fire, burning with a need for more.
The memory of Cho's story about how Malfoy doesn't kiss girls on the mouth replayed in her mind. At the time she was confused as to how those girls didn't complain. But the way he was looking at her right now, made her realise that he could ask her to do anything, and she'd always say yes.
Hermione raised her chin, subconsciously begging him to make her one of the girls he had marked. Whatever gap was between their bodies, Malfoy closed it by stepping in between her legs. His belt knocked her stomach.
He lowered his head so that his lips hovered over her neck. His breath was warm and made her eyelashes flutter. She waited for what felt like a lifetime before he finally pecked at her skin.
There was no hurry to the way he trailed over her throat. His touch was gentle. As if he was trying to heal the bruises that he'd left there before. Hermione let him. She sort of needed it, too.
Goosebumps formed along her arms as he moved from her left side to her right. She moaned at the motion of his tongue coming into play. He smiled and licked the dip in her collar bone.
She had to lean on her hands when he pressed into her more. Her thin bra didn't hide how hard her nipples were getting, and the way he pulled her chest more into his, she knew he liked it. The urge to unclip it crossed her mind, but she didn't want to jump the gun.
"Is this your way of saying thank you?" She breathed.
He pulled away from her neck and she hated the loss. His lips were pinker than they were before and his eyes were darker too.
"Partly," he vibrated. "If you'll let me give you the rest."
God, she wanted the rest. Her hand fumbly found her wand across the desk and she used it to lock the door and silence the room. The action earnt her a kiss right below her jugular.
"You can do whatever you want to me," she said confidently. "Forever."
Malfoy paused for a second and pinched her chin in between his fingers. "I don't want you saying that unless you mean it."
Hermione kept one hand on the desk, and let the other find a belt loop, "I mean it."
With a bitten back grunt, he dove into her neck again. This time with more force. He sucked harder and it made her elbow nearly give way. It was exactly what she needed from him.
His fingers didn't have any trouble finding the button to her trousers. He yanked them down over her thighs and had to step away momentarily to fully tear them off her legs. Hermione gasped when the hardness of his jeans met her underwear.
She laced one hand in the back of his hair and puffed her chest for him to kiss the space between her breasts. The rest of her shirt blocked him from anything else.
Malfoy knelt in front of the desk. He sucked on the inner side of her right thigh while lifting her calves to sit on both of his shoulders. Hermione was sure she was seeing stars. Nothing had ever felt as good as this.
He looked up one last time, asking for permission. She gave a breathy, "please," in response.
His tongue found the wetness inside her knickers first. A firecracker lit up her insides and made her moan uncontrollably. He nipped at the perfect spot, hitting her where it mattered. Her hands fed through the longer strands of hair at the back of his head, and pulled on the roots.
Two fingers fed through the elastic of her waistband and dragged the cotton material down to her ankles. The winter air was crisp against her bare skin.
No one had ever seen this part of her before. A growing sense of insecurity set in when she realised that she was probably the most fuller figured girl that Malfoy had ever been with like this. Her thighs didn't have as much space for him to move, her bum was extra round and her stomach had a pudgeness to it.
But that self-doubt left right out the window when his lips wrapped themselves around the muscle that stuck to the side of her bikini line. She bit down on her inner gum and slapped her hand over her mouth to stop it from saying anything.
"Don't do that," Malfoy demanded. "I need to hear you enjoy this."
It wasn't a want, it was a need.
Hermione put her hand back on the desk and closed her eyes. Her head tilted back as he danced around her skin, teasing and edging her on. His hands massaged the curves near her bum and she damn well thought she was going to go insane if he didn't hurry up.
"Please, Malfoy," she begged.
Malfoy blew cold air onto her sensitive parts, making her tremble. He followed it up by dragging his tongue from the bottom of her cunt, to the top.
"Like that?" He asked.
She nodded with clenched eyes, "Yeah."
"What about this?" He kissed her clit. She cursed.
"Or this?" He dug deep and sucked hard on her that time.
Hermione shuttered a gasp. Muscles contracted in her stomach and she bucked her hips forward.
He spread her legs even further apart with his shoulders and said, "Tell me to do it again."
"Do it again. Please, God, do it again."
She could feel his grin when he repeated his last action. He switched it up between licking her with his whole tongue and just the tip. Both were good in different ways. Then, he literally dipped it inside her.
His face squirmed in roughly and she grinded against it. Her cheeks were flushing and her brain was going fuzzy. She couldn't think straight or even see clearly.
He sucked on her clit and held it in his mouth for three seconds before letting go, then did it again two more times. Each time her thighs clamped around his neck.
She wanted to come, craved it, but didn't want this to end yet. She was a champagne bottle with a cork that was slowly inching out, but she couldn't let herself pop. The pop meant they'd have to pretend this never happened.
But then, he did something with his mouth that was so magnificent, she came down hard on his face. The cork popped and champagne frothed out everywhere. She didn't even know she was screaming in pleasure until Malfoy jumped from his kneel to latch himself back onto her neck.
Her arms gave way and her body convulsed into a collapse. He caught her upper back, letting her head go limp too.
She was hot all over.
Malfoy held her weight with his hands and kissed her hairline. It was probably sweaty, but she didn't care enough to tell him not to. All she could concentrate on was trying to stop her legs from quivering.
Hermione lifted her chin to speak. "What kind of watch do I have to buy you next time for that to happen again?"
He licked her taste off his lips. "That wasn't about the watch," he said while laughing.
"Should I ask what it was really about?"
"You already know."
Okay so she wasn't the only one trying to ignore this ever growing tension between them. Good to know.
Malfoy tucked her hair behind her ear, "You good?"
She blew raspberries, "Define good."
"Can you stand up?"
"I'm not sure."
He handed her her wand and let her clean herself up before lifting her knickers up from her ankles. They were still a little bit damp when she jumped off the desk to fit them around her bum. She wobbled for a second, and then steadied herself on his forearm.
"Confession." Malfoy said, picking her trousers up from the floor. She hummed, taking them from him. "You are by the far the best tasting witch I have ever had."
Hermione froze, mid getting changed. She blushed while wiggling back into her jeans and searched her whole vocabulary for the right words to say in reply.
"You're telling me that I'm better than Ophelia Jane at something?"
He swooped to bite the part under her ear and whispered, "So much better."
It sent a new set of chills down her spine.
He did her button up for her and swiftly left the room without another word. Hermione belly flopped onto her mattress and groaned into the duvet. Their dynamic had just done a 180 in a matter of twenty minutes, and she was barely catching up to reality.
She'd just had oral sex for the first time. She'd just had oral sex from Draco. Malfoy.
And it was glorious.
Not wanting to be suspicious, Hermione waited another five before heading back downstairs. The boys were still out playing football, and Cho was having a cup of tea in the kitchen. It only just occurred to Hermione that this was the first Christmas where she wasn't forced to face her cousin.
"Are you feeling okay today?" She asked from the doorway. "Not being around your cousin this year?"
Cho closed her eyes and nodded. "This is the best Christmas I've had in a long time."
They smiled at one another. Hermione hoped that it wasn't obvious that she'd just had the most life changing orgasm moments ago upstairs. The buzz still hadn't left her thighs yet.
Ophelia's recognisable giggle echoed down the hall as she pulled Malfoy out from the living room. Hermione rubbed her nose and pretended not to look bothered when they stepped past her to go into the kitchen. She deserved an award for all the faking she'd been doing these last few months.
Soon enough everyone was seated around the dining table, mouths full of a Christmas feast. They'd each taken turns in making a plate. Some weren't as delectable as others though.
Hermione barred herself from touching Malfoy underneath the table, because the second his foot would bumped hers, she was afraid of what noise she'd make in reaction. They stole glances every now and then, but no more than usual.
In order to not think about what happened in her bedroom, she actually ate some of her dinner. Not much, but enough to distract her.
Later on in the evening when Andromeda and Teddy had gone to bed, the rest of the house partied in the living room. The Christmas songs were still playing on the radio and that called for some dancing. Someone had poured Hermione some eggnog and she found herself a little more carefree than normal, she even taught Cho how to do the splits.
Fred was swirling Ophelia in circles, Harry was showing off his wheelchair moves, George and Dean were pretending to know the lyrics to carols and Malfoy sat and watched.
She told Cho she needed to catch her breath and fell onto the couch next to him. They didn't look at each other, or talk, but there was a throw blanket between them. Hermione slipped her hand under it and watched her friends dance.
Keeping his eyes on everyone else, Malfoy discreetly laced his fingers through hers to hold her hand and for no one else to see.
For some reason this felt just as nice as when his mouth was sucking on her knickers.
Hermione liked Christmas this year. She liked it a lot.
