Today officially marked the last day of 1998.

The fire was crackling in the living room, with a Christmas that had over welcomed their stay by its side. Hermione had walked in with a fresh cup of tea when she spotted Dean, Harry and Malfoy sitting on the floor playing the muggle board game George had gifted her. Given the title, Catan, and passion in which they were playing, she chose not to disturb them on her way to the couch.

She laid down on the longest of couches and let the warm flames heat her face while the boys bickered beside her. Dean and Harry being the loudest of the three, whereas Malfoy was composed and used facial expressions to convey his opinions.

From an outsider's perspective he did not seem to notice her entrance, and yet Hermione knew he was aware of her presence just as much as she was of his.

Much to her astonishment, they hadn't done anything to the extreme of what they reached on Christmas since that night. Their meetups had continued at midnight, and if Malfoy touched her, it was only a small peck on the side of her cheek to say goodnight.

He preferred to talk.

Hermione was grateful that he hadn't crossed their red inked boundary just to erase everything else they'd been through. She would've felt pretty abused if he had.

In the past when she had gotten into entanglements with boys, Krum and Mclaggen, they no longer desired to get to know her after they snogged. It was either handsy moments under hidden stairwells or nothing at all. Malfoy had been the only one so far to not make her feel inadequate or a piece of meat.

Feeling the post-lunch siesta start to take over, the boy's voices faded and the comfy cushion she rested on, swallowed Hermione whole.

Her dreams were filled with snippets from the battle at Hogwarts. Snape and McGonagall duelling, the chamber of secrets, the diadem in the room of requirement, and the curse that struck both Harry and Ron.

The part where the wall exploded was on a loop. Cement chunks blasting, hitting the back of Ron's head. Red sparks skimming Harry's body as dubris showered over his frame. Hermione was frozen in time, watching it over and over again.

She woke with a sort of jolt when a hand caressed her lower back. Malfoy was sitting into the curl of her foetal position, looking down at her with a look of concern.

"Hey," he spoke softly.

"Did I fall asleep?" Hermione croaked, rubbing her eyes.

"Not for long. The others went to get something. Were you having a nightmare?."

She frowned.

"You were mumbling and had that same frown on your face." He used his thumb to relax the muscles on her brow.

Hermione would've taken notice of how her heart did a double pump, but the scene of Harry's accident was on the forefront of her mind. She sat up and tried to collect all the missing pieces of the dream that were scattered across her brain.

A theory formed as she did.

"Were you dreaming about your parents again?" He asked.

"No. I-uh-I need to find Harry," she stuttered. "I just thought of something."

Malfoy shuffled down the couch to let her stand. She started to run out of the room but halted at the door and turned back to him. There was a tether that was tugging between them, wanting to drag her back to the couch and kiss him on the lips. Only, she couldn't, so she bolted down the hall away from the fear of rejection.

Harry was in Dean's room when she found him.

"Harry!" She panted. "I just had a dream from when we were at the battle. It was the moment that you and Ron were hit by all the cement. Pieces were flying everywhere, I couldn't really see very well and I also don't really remember what happened that night, as you know I blacked out. But the seconds in which you were struck kept playing over in a loop-"

"Woah!" Harry interrupted. "You're talking erratically, slow down."

Hermione took a breath, "Right. The point is—I don't think that your ability to walk has stopped because of the explosion. I think the curse that the Death Eater threw hit you first, and traces of it are still inside you."

"You're saying a curse is in me?"

"Possibly. There has to be a reason why the other potions haven't been working, right?"

He thought about it, digging his nails into his knees. "I remember a shooting pain going up my spine when I fell, and then my legs going immediately numb. That's it. Do you think that was the curse?"

"There's no reason for it not to be. Perhaps Andromeda should do a diagnostic spell."

That was what led them to Harry's room, with him faced down on the bed. Andromeda waved her wand in a spiral technique and casted a spell that Hermione had seen her use before. Orange glitter floated off of Harry's skin, and then turned to an illuminated yellow.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked as she bit the side of the thumb.

Andromeda cleared her throat, in a way that indicated she didn't want to say what she was going to say. "It means that there are reminiscents of dark magic feeding off of his bones."

"My bones?!" Harry squawked into his pillow. "Can you get it out?!]

"I can, but Harry, I'm going to need to put you to sleep. There's a chance you might not wake up if I don't erase it from your legs perfectly. Is that something you are prepared to risk?"

Hermione squatted to remove his glasses.

"What do you want to do?" She asked.

"We've gambled on bigger things than dying," he said. "What's another deathwish to add to the list?"

"All this sitting around living a normal life has gotten rather boring, hasn't it?"

"So boring."

"I think you need to take the risk, Harry. But if you die, I will kill you for leaving me. I promise you that."

Harry smiled, remembering Ron and wishing he was here with them. Hermione pressed their foreheads together. She needed him to survive this, because if he didn't, they were quite positively kaput.

"Okay," she stood, sniffling. "Do you need my help with anything Andromeda?"

The elder witch shook her head, "No, darling. It would be harder for me to instruct you on what to do than to do it myself. Go out to the others, wait with them."

She closed Harry's bedroom door behind her and prayed to whatever God was out there, that that wasn't the last time she would see the raven haired boy.

Her feet led her to the living room where the rest of the house was sitting. She explained the situation to an extent, but didn't say that Harry was at a risk of dying. Malfoy had the baby on his lap and Hermione took the spot next to them while they waited the next few hours out.

"Well, this is one hell of a way to go into the next year," Fred mocked.

No one said anything in reply. The tick of a distant clock chimed through the silence.

Hermione noticed that Malfoy's hands were shaking. He was clenching and unclenching them subtly so that they'd stop. She took Teddy from him and he said a quiet thanks in return.

Teddy kept trying to worm his way back onto Malfoy, and whined everytime she denied him from it. In order to not draw any more attention, she let him stand in between Malfoy's thighs and hold onto his knees for balance. His hair went platinum white to copy his cousin as he rocked his hips back and forth, giggling.

"Watch out, Malfoy," George chirped, "spend any more time with that kid and he'll learn how to turn into a ferret."

Ophelia slapped his back, "Don't be rude, George! Draco made out to be a fine ferret. Much finer than you could ever be."

Fred 'ooh'ed. "Should we test the theory?" He asked, pumping his eyebrows around the room.

Malfoy looked like he was in physical pain and trying to ignore it. Selfishly, Hermione slid her hand to rest on his blistered dark mark.

"Go to the kitchen and have a drink of water," she quietly instructed him. "You don't have to stay down here."

His pupils were dilated and she wasn't quite sure he heard her until he lifted Teddy onto her lap.

Cho had a questionable expression. Her lashes fluttered as if she was trying to communicate in morse-code. Hermione ignored it and tickled the baby's belly to divert him from the tension in the room.

They waited for two whole hours in near complete silence. Dean was pacing the room when Andromeda came in.

"He's okay," she said while slumping against a chair. "He'll be asleep for the next hour or so, but he's okay."

Everyone collectively sighed with relief. Hermione had no shame in the tears of joy that spilled. She pressed Teddy against her chest and hugged him as tight as possible, using him to express her gratitude. Then she went over and hugged Andromeda even more firmly.

The baby pulled on her curls while they huddled.

"Do you know if he can walk?" She asked in distress.

"We can't know anything until he wakes, darling. But if it doesn't work, he's going to need you now more than ever."

Hermione handed the baby over and shared that she needed fresh air. She made it to the staircase before she hunched over and gagged on vomit that refused to come up. To everyone else it was a relief that Harry was alive, to Hermione it was worse knowing that he had to survive this only to die later on.

She trudged upstairs and found Malfoy asleep on her bed. Not even under the sheets.

As quietly as possible she tiptoed to the other side. Not wanting to wake him, she grabbed her book from the nightstand and read it for a little while. Six short chapters later, Malfoy started to stir.

He stretched his arm in a triangular shape, allowing his shirt to lift up and reveal the band of his underwear. Hermione concentrated very hard on the word 'apple-tree' on her page as an attempt to not make it appear as if she was perving. She was let down when he stopped stretching and the shirt covered it back up again.

"Any news?" Malfoy asked, with the husk of someone who had smoked nothing but cigars for ten years.

She put her book down, "Andromeda said that it went well, but we won't know if he can walk until he wakes up."

He hummed and flipped onto his back.

"You looked ill in the living room," she noted.

"The scar on my face tends to irritate. It can flip a switch on my temper." He apologised with embarrassment. Hermione found it genuine.

"That's alright," she said. "Does it still hurt?"

"Yes."

Hermione inched closer so that she could lean on her forearm and bring her hand to the ball of his shoulder. She finally gave into the urge to trace his scar. Two fingers began to track and gently make their way up to his collar.

"Why would she do this to you, Malfoy?"

The she up for question was Bellatrix.

Her touch was skimming past his cheek when he answered, "I was a disgrace for abandoning the Dark Lord. This was the punishment she saw fit."

"How did you survive if she tried to kill you?"

She paused when she landed on his brow.

"Dean found me face down in a puddle of my own blood after the battle ended. He asked McGonagall to help and she told him to bring me here. I was alone for six days before Andromeda came."

"And you hid in the attic once she arrived?"

"No, my aunt was sent to heal my injuries that weren't too far gone. It wasn't until Dean returned with the rest of you that evening when I isolated myself. None of us were quite ready for a reunion, I didn't think."

Hermione was humbled by the mature side of Draco Malfoy. That slick backed git of a bully from Hogwarts would never have had the self awareness of his own influence. In a terribley fucked up way, this war has made him a better person.

He rolled over to face down into the pillow. Hermione retreated back to her own side of the bed, but not without noticing the veins sticking out of his temple and neck.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

He didn't respond.

His hands came up to lay flat by his shoulders. They were shaking again.

Hermione accio'd her bag over from the desk and pulled out a vial of oil. She pinched two drops into her palm and moved to sit with crossed legs, all while placing Malfoy's left hand into her lap. Narrowly minding his watch, she started at his wrist and applied pressure with her thumbs, releasing the tension from his trembling muscles.

His arm twitched every time she massaged the bottom of his middle finger, then relaxed when she moved onto his pinky. The hard knots reminded her of being a child and popping bubble wrap for hours on end.

Malfoy heavily sighed into the pillow when she scooted over to work on his right hand. The shaking had settled, but wasn't quite calm.

When she was done, Hermione used the remainder of the oil to rub onto her face. Lord knew her flaky skin needed it. The scent was strong with hints of cinnamon and pumpkin.

"How did you know to do that?" Malfoy asked when he rolled back over.

"I read about it once. The muscles in our hands carry a significant amount of pressure, and should be released regularly. I figured it would feel better if someone did it for you."

He blinked. "It was."

With Harry downstairs, near on his deathbed, Hermione needed a distraction. Anything to take her thoughts off the speech she'd have to conjure if he still wasn't able to walk, and convince him yet again that everything was going to take time if they wanted to defeat Voldemort.

In all honesty, she had gotten sick of creating propaganda to encourage her friends to keep believing. There was not much to believe in these days anyway.

Either Malfoy was a mind reader, or he could see how uncomfortable she was sitting beside him. Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her over to straddle over his lap. She yelped at his strength to move her so easily.

He sat up to sit parallel to her, inches from collision.

"I was dreaming about you while passed out," he muttered nonchalantly.

Hermione squirmed. "What was I doing?"

"You were reading. In my bed."

Which bed? The one in the attic or the one in the manor? "That is not very interesting."

"I found it interesting." That made her ears heat up. "When I woke up and saw you here with that book in your hand, I couldn't figure out if I was still dreaming or not. Only difference was, you weren't so red cheeked in real life."

"Why would I have been red cheeked?"

She knew what he had been implying, she just wanted to see how he would explain it.

"Don't act dumb, Granger." He used this thumb to drag the bottom of her lip down, then let it go. "I don't appreciate it when you pretend to be less intelligent than what you really are."

"Exactly how intelligent do you think I truly am?"

"Enough to know that it wasn't a good idea to ask which bedroom I was dreaming of you in."

There was no way that this man wasn't a Legilimens. Given his statement, it was a good chance that he had been visualising her in his childhood bedroom. Whether or not that was a bad thing, he had already decided that for her.

Hermione's hands fed through to the back of his head, and she kissed his neck as softly as humanly possible.

She wanted to respect this unspoken rule that he had on not snogging anyone on the lips. One day she might ask him about it, but today was not that day.

His skin was smooth, and smelt of warm slumber. Her forehead brushed against stubble while she lathered him in feather light kisses. He drew her in closer by her thighs, and drummed his fingers up the hemming on her shirt to play with the back of her jeans. Goose bumps formed under his tracings.

Malfoy stroked her spine and said, "Don't start anything that you don't want interrupted." His throat vibrated as he spoke.

Hermione pulled away. "What if I want to?"

Then, like magic, someone knocked on the door. She groaned and banged her chin on his shoulder.

Unbothered by the interruption, Malfoy picked her up by her ribcage and moved her off the bed. She stood disheartened, and almost embarrassed. He gave one kiss to the part below her ear and walked to stand behind the door.

Hermione accepted his inclination to keep, whatever this is, a secret and opened the door without missing a beat.

"Hey," she said to Dean, who was leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey," he echoed. "Harry is awake if you want to see him."

"Have you spoken to him?"

"Not yet, Andromeda said he wanted to see you first."

This could mean both good or bad news. Dean's expression wasn't giving her any clues either.

Her hand was spread across the back of the door. Malfoy traced the word go over her skin with his forefinger. The motion made her shiver.

"Okay, I'm coming down."

She didn't look behind her when she left the room. Dean followed without any knowledge of the fact that he had the world's poorest timing.

They approached Harry's bedroom with apprehension but a glimmer of positivity. The lights were on and the boy with the famous circular glasses was sitting up against the headboard eating a bowl of custard. Hermione slackened at the grin of a Cheshire Cat.

"Oh Harry!" She exclaimed as she ran to pounce on his bed, arms wrapping around his neck. "I'm so glad you're okay. How are you feeling? Do you want to try walking?"

Harry huffed at her weight on his lower body and tugged his bowl of custard out from their embrace. He laughed into her hair, rubbing her back.

"If you get off me I might be able to actually give the whole walking thing a go."

She didn't get off him. "Not yet. I need it to sink in that you're alive first."

"Okay, well you may kill me from how tight this hug is. I can't breathe, 'Mione."

"Oh," she pulled away. "Sorry."

Harry took a second to catch his breath. There was colour restored back to his face that hadn't been there since Ginny was staying at the farm. That coloured could very well be happiness.

He took her hand and formed it into a fist, then made her punch him in the calf.

"Did you-You felt that?" She gasped.

He nodded. "I felt that."

Tears welled from her eyes and Hermione didn't care whether or not she was going to suffocate him, she hugged him all over again.

Harry cried with her as they sat on his bed and held onto one another. This was the start of something new. This right here, was their new testament. A turning point to a new day coming.

As stupid as it might be to say out loud, Hermione could sense Ron was with them in the room. If an afterlife was to be true, then he was standing right there beside the bed, watching them with pride in his heart. That made her cry even more, knowing that he wasn't actually here to celebrate the first triumph since he'd died.

Andromeda came back into the room and helped Harry stand. His legs were wobbly and he couldn't quite take a step, but he was standing on his own nonetheless.

Everyone else came into the room and cheered on the good news with tiny fireworks that the twins were supposed to use tonight, but decided this was a better occasion.

Sparks of red, purple, green, and blue filtered the once dark bedroom of a broken Harry Potter. Like a slow motion time lapse, Hermione watched her family dance around with nothing but joy radiating between them. She clapped along with the cheering and seized every second for what it was worth.

Harry bobbed Teddy up and down on his hip, Cho and Ophelia hooked arms, skipping in circles, and Dean stomped feet to an uneven rhythm. The twins tormented Malfoy for not loosening up by scruffing up his floppy hairdo.

He didn't seem to mind. He even gave her a smirk from across the room.

The only person that wasn't smiling was Andromeda. She possessed more of a look of concern. Hermione gathered she was simply worried about what would happen when Harry could properly walk.

They partied that enthusiastically well into the night. Harry had to return to his wheelchair but did not sulk once about it. 1998 was coming to an end, and 1999 was coming up Potter.

Around 9pm Fred cracked open a bottle of muggle whiskey that he had been keeping locked up in the granny flat for this night, and poured it into old shot glasses that needed to be rinsed off. At the sight of the alcohol, Andromeda bid everyone goodnight and took herself and Teddy to bed.

George insisted on playing a game where people had to line up and lick whipped cream off the top of the glass, then down the shot with their hands behind their back. Preceded by a dare from the person on their left.

Harry stayed on the sidelines of the living room when the lineup was being prepared. Hermione admired him for having self control and knowing that he couldn't feed his problem, even if it was a good day today.

"It's alright," he insisted to George, "I'll get the cream from the kitchen."

He wheeled away with a bowed head.

Cho tied her hair up with her wand and Hermione copied the actions. They each stood in front of a bar that had been transfigured from a coffee table, made longer to fit them all in a row. Harry came back and was tall enough to park himself in front of the bar and swirl cream on top of every shot.

Malfoy joined him.

"Do you not plan to have fun tonight, Draco?" Ophelia asked, batting her eyelashes.

Expressionless, he said, "No, I don't wish to make a fool of myself."

The harshness in which he said this made the brunette blush.

Hermione gulped when Malfoy placed himself in front of her behind the bar. She had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't not participating because he didn't want to look foolish, but rather because he pitied Harry.

Another character trait she didn't know he held. Compassion.

The game began and chaos erupted.

Dean took his shot and was dared by Cho to do an Irish Jig without any music, who was then dared by Fred to drag her butt across the carpet like a dog while singing the Hogwarts school song. Fred had to give a strip tease to his underwear, George licked the bottom of his shoe and Hermione dared Ophelia to try and drink a glass of water while doing a handstand.

And damn it did she still make that look beautiful.

Finally, it was Hermione's turn.

Malfoy had been leaning his arms on the bar while watching everyone make themselves look like idiots. He straightened himself up when she licked the cream off her drink, ensuring to not break eye contact with him as she did it. She wrapped her mouth around the glass and with her hands behind her back, she tossed the fiery liquid down her throat.

Malfoy didn't let a single drop of emotion show on his face.

He took the glass out of her mouth and wiped the spilt whiskey from the corner of her lips with his knuckle. Hermione nearly turned into a puddle right then and there on the living room floor. His silver didn't escape her brown even when everyone else whooped and hollered.

"Okay!" Cho jumped up and down, "Hermione, I dare you to be blindfolded and let each of us feed you something ."

The audience's reaction broke their connection. Hermione shook herself out of the daze she was caught in and brought her attention back to the game.

"Sorry, what did you say?" She asked.

"I said, you have to be blindfolded and let each of us feed you something."

She grimaced. "Do I really have to be blind folded?"

"Absolutely."

With an attitude, Hermione agreed. Cho brought her over to a chair and tied a scarf around her eyes while other people went to the kitchen to find something to torutre her with.

Giggles were heard coming from the hallway when they returned. Something spun at the pit of Hermione's stomach. At least if she couldn't see, she technically wasn't really eating in front of them.

"Are you ready?" Cho asked, standing behind her chair. She nodded, already hating this.

The first person was kind, delicate even in placing a peanut butter covered strawberry in her mouth. Ophelia possibly. Next, was straight flour, making her gag and need water. There was black liquorice, which Harry knew she hated, followed by a spoonful of butter, then uncooked beans, and week old Chrsitmas ham.

Finally, Hermione could practically smell Malfoy's approach. She was unsure whether or not he would take part in this dare, however if given the opportunity to stick something in his mouth, she wouldn't say no too.

She sucked in and let a smile slip out so he knew she could tell it was him. He pulled her jaw open and kept it ajar while placing a ginger biscuit onto her taste buds. After all that disgusting shite, this was heaven baked in a treat.

Cho pulled her blindfold off and everyone collectively laughed at the absurdity of what they all did.

Most people kept drinking while the last few hours of the year ticked by. Hermione only did one more shot after the game and then refrained from playing anymore. If she wasn't careful, she'd blurt things that weren't supposed to ever be said out loud.

It was 11:55pm and Malfoy came and silently sat next to her one the two cushioned couch.

"I'm surprised that no one has drunkenly snogged someone yet," she said, facing the room and not him. "Not even Dean and Fred."

He slouched further into his seat and replied, "Are you wanting someone to drunkenly snog you?"

"No, not necessarily. I take delight in seeing people express their affection for one another in ways they'd regret the next morning. Makes me feel very in control."

"How Slytherin of you, Granger."

She grinned, "Well, you are one hell of an influence."

Their pinkies crossed over. Hermione could have sworn that his skin had zapped hers, or hers zapped his. Either way, it left her feeling frazzled.

George and Fred did the can-can while bellowing a song in the form of a funeral march, like they used to in school. Cho was laying under the Christmas tree and staring up at the lights, while Dean was unsuccessfully flirting with Ophelia. Harry was spinning around in circles on his wheelchair, probably glad to be rid of it soon.

The clock on the fireplace was ticking and midnight was drawing near. Hermione wasn't so used to having everyone awake at this time.

"Will you go out to the gates tonight?" She asked Malfoy quietly, "After everyone has either passed out or gone to bed?"

"No," he said shortly.

"Do you not want to risk anyone seeing you out there?"

"More so that I wanted to go back to something I was doing this afternoon before a bellend named Dean Thomas interrupted."

Her head snapped to look at him. He was expressionless, yet again. Totally ignorant to the fact that he had the power to make her go from hot to wet within seconds.

She didn't get a chance to take him up on the offer before Ophelia came prancing over to the couch, spiked fruit punch in hand.

Her luscious hair swung as she asked, "Draco, would you care to join me for a midnight kiss?"

Under his breath, Malfoy snorted. Despite his apparent disgust in the request, he stood up. Hermione felt barbed wire swinging around her body, cutting her for every breath she took.

Oh God, she thought. I'm not that good of an actor to pretend not to hate this.

Ophelia revealed her shiny white teeth, but dropped the beam when Malfoy walked straight past her to go and sit by Harry on the other side of the room.

The barbed wire fell to the ground.

11:59pm arrived and Ophelia was still paralysed in shock. As was Hermione. Both girls didn't move an inch until the countdown from 10 began.

Hermione got up and stood by Cho at the bar. 7, 6, 5…

She locked eyes with Malfoy. 4, 3, 2…

He smirked. 1…

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The twins popped streamers from their wands and dropped the last firework bombs onto the floor. It was official, 1998 was behind them and the end of the war was near. 1999 had only begun, and it already felt victorious.

2am was when most people had collapsed from exhaustion and had fallen asleep somewhere comfortable enough in the living room. Malfoy was leaning over by the door frame with his ankles crossed when Hermione finally managed to get Cho to stop talking and close her eyes.

"Are you hungry?" He asked in a whisper.

She slouched in defeat, "Incredibly."

With a nod, he strode down the hallway and emerged a minute later with arms full of food. They walked up the stairs into her bedroom together and began their traditional feast.

"I didn't know you hated liquorice," Malfoy said as they laid sideways over the mattress.

"Only the black kind. Red liquorice I can handle."

"That's not real liquorice, Granger. That's red sugar."

She shrugged. "It's delectable, even if it rots my teeth."

"Your parents would be so disappointed."

"That they would be, Mr Malfoy."

He winced at her use of his surname like that. She laughed, tossing a sweet into the air and catching it in her mouth.

"You know there used to be rumours going around Hogwarts that you once stole licorice from Honeydukes."

"As much as rumours can turn out to be false, that one is actually true," he said. Not an ounce of regret on his face.

She was taken back, "Really? I don't think I've ever heard a rumour that went through those school walls that wasn't false."

"Yes, I've heard all about the rumours that involved you, Granger. If I weren't the one to start them, I definitely would have encouraged them."

He was teasing her.

"Even the one in sixth year?" She asked, with one eyebrow raised.

Malfoy hummed. She was talking about the rumour that Cho had only just informed her a few months prior of. The one about having gifted abilities in locked broom closets.

"No," he grinned. "I didn't fan that one into flame. I was rather preoccupied in sixth year, although I did hear some graphic stories."

"Do you believe them to be true?"

"I don't know. Are they?"

She shrugged. "They're not. I am not as experienced as everyone portrayed me to be. Though, it is something that I am willing to learn."

He squinted, "What did you just say?"

Hermione slid off her side of the bed by the pillows and stood between Malfoy legs, which were dangling down off the side of the mattress.

"I said it is something that I am willing to learn." Her palms found his knees and skimmed up to his hips. "Do you think you could teach me?"

Maybe it was the two shots of whiskey, or maybe it was the hunger that dwelled inside her, but she found the confidence to pull off her sweater. It landed somewhere behind with a thud.

"Granger, you don't hav-" He started.

"Teach me," she repeated, tying her hair up again to a loose pony.

He seemed to stop protesting when she undid his belt buckle, pulling it from his trousers loops. Then started again when his button was undone, and zip was tugged down.

Hermione lifted his shirt to kiss the bottom of his stomach. He hissed at the suction, and threw his head back onto the mattress.

"I want you to tell me what to do," she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes. He was clawing at the duvet.

"Go slowly," he instructed her. "Make me savour every moment of it."

That was a demand, more than a request, to which Hermione was more than happy to obey.

She left a pattern of pink markings across his abdomen, then intimately went over every one to make them a deeper shade of purple. Her fingers curled around the elastic of his waistband and flipped it for more access to more exposed skin. She didn't even try to avoid the trailing line of hair.

"That's good. Now take my trousers off first."

He was only wearing socks, so it wasn't hard to yank his jeans down, slowly, and throw them next to her sweater.

"The next part will be better for you if you're on your knees," he said.

Hermione got down on one knee, then the second and felt her breasts jiggle over her bra as she did it. She ran her hands up from his legs and stopped by the cut off of his briefs.

"Don't rush," he told her, "Touch me first."

The smoothness in which he could say these things intimidated her. She didn't want to mess this up.

She bent forward and felt his length over the black pants he wore. He was bigger than she expected, far bigger than she had mentally prepared for too.

On top of the material, she massaged with gentle fingers and took every moan of his as a sticker of approval.

"Fuck," he heaved. "Use your mouth now, Granger."

Not needing to be told twice, Hermione felt for his balls and replaced her fingers with her mouth. She sucked until he arched.

"Keep going."

The cotton was rough but it wasn't a bother. She teased him by feeding her thumb under the hemline of his pants, reaching all the way up to his groin muscle, then brought them back out again.

Malfoy growled the second time she tried it.

"Keep taunting me like that, and I'll come before you even get a chance to taste me."

Hermione pouted. "We can't have that, now can we?"

He chuckled and pushed her head back down to his bulge. She kissed his covered staff and felt it twitch under the material. She rewarded him by pressing it between the crack in her breasts while she raised his shirt even further up and felt his hard stomach.

Malfoy grinded into her chest but she denied him with a tut.

"Can I taste you now?" Hermione begged.

He sat up, revealing his well cut muscles. "Only if you say please."

She pecked an old wound that was cut into his hip. "Please."

Her hands were sizzling with anticipation, and jumped at the opportunity to set him free when he gave her permission to do so.

His tip peaked out first, to which Hermione learnt was surprisingly circumcised. She looked up at him to ask what to do.

"Make me wait for you, Granger. Start from the bottom and go up."

With one tug she removed his underwear. He was so hard he sprung out with avengence. A tinge of fear spread throughout her insides as she took him into her hands.

She started at the base, and dragged her tongue up his length, then gently wrapped her lips around the head. Wary of her teeth, she only let an inch inside her mouth before extracting him and repeated the action thrice.

"Grip me," he instructed. "Tight."

Wrapping both hands around him, she squeezed hard and twisted her wrists while licking his tip.

"Fucking hell. That's good."

Faking her confience, Hermione pumped faster and sucked him harder. There were popping noises every time she broke to breathe, and it made the moment so much steamier.

She was right, this was better in real life than it was written down.

"Take your hands away and just use your mouth."

That was daunting, but she did it anyway. He hit the back of her throat when she bent further down. He grunted and made her do it again, and again and again.

"Show me how far down I can go, Granger."

Hermione was shocked at the depth of her own throat when she forced herself to go so further down, her nose hit his hairline. She gasped coming back up and felt her cheeks were burning in the dark.

Malfoy had a fist in his own mouth, and was biting on his knuckle.

"Don't do that," Hermione told him, "I want to hear you enjoy this."

She had echoed his words and he recognised it. The next time she deepthroated him, he cursed three different ways.

She soon found her rhythm and switched it up between things that he liked. Her hands came into play, specifically her thumb, and she even spat down onto him once. Malfoy loved that so much he had to smother a pillow over his face.

It was a repetitive job, but he showed her ways to be creative. Her tongue moved around his base while he was in her and she found that moaning with him made it better.

Unable to pinpoint how exactly she knew, but Hermione could tell when he was about to finish. His hips bucked and he stopped breathing, then inhaled a giant amount of oxygen. He told her that she could either let him go or make him work for it.

She chose to make him work for it.

Backing off on the intensity of her pumping and sucking, she returned to a sweet lick and a playful kiss. He was permanently on the edge, fading in and out of completion.

"You're so good, Granger. So fucking perfect."

Those words made her eyes roll to the back of her head in pleasure. She liked being praised by him. If she switched up a technique, she didn't stop until he moaned.

"I'm begging you, please let me finish."

Since he asked so nicely, she pushed him deep into her throat and used her hand with his balls. His whole body jolted forward and in a second Hermione had to decide whether or not she wanted him to spill in her or on her.

Seeing as he wasn't going to snog her tonight anyway, she proudly swallowed every last drop he gave her. It tasted tangy, but not bad at all.

Malfoy panted on the bed, with his chest heaving up and down. Hermione kept a hold of him in her palm and slowly dropped his dancing cock to rest on his thigh. She rose, strained from her kneeling position and laid down beside him.

"You're an excellent teacher," she whispered.

He had to catch his breath to laugh. "You always have to be the best at everything, don't you?"

"Oh, I'm sure there's still room to improve."

"You'll ruin me if it gets any better."

She took the compliment and smiled while Malfoy rolled over to kiss her neck. He took a few minutes to recover before picking up his clothes off the floor and putting his underwear back on. Hermione felt over exposed being in just her jeans and bra.

She thought he was going to leave her until he threw his jeans over the desk and started to unbutton hers.

"I think we need to sleep," he said, yanking her pants away from her legs.

As much as she wanted to stay awake, exhaustion argued against her. She yawned and nodded, slipping into the sheets that he had drawn back for her.

He went over and locked the door before coming to join.

They didn't face one another, but rather chose to lie back to back. It made Hermione feel better. He hadn't left her, but he wasn't rushing anything either.

Or maybe he was just using her for his own amusement, who's to know. That avalanche of heartbreak could come later. For now, Hermione was going to sleep knowing that she's now given Draco Malfoy two of her firsts in life, and she didn't regret it.