Author's Note: This fic contains sexual content and is intended for an adult audience. Originally posted to AO3 as part of the Fic Fest (Taylor's Version) 2022, inspired by the Taylor Swift song "Wildest Dreams".

Hermione took a deep breath and leaned back against the castle wall, grateful for a moment alone. In a few hours she could call it a night and leave the party for good, but right now she just needed a breather.

A raucous pre-graduation party was happening in the Great Hall. The mixed class of seventh and eighth year students were rather enthusiastically celebrating the end of their schooling; having made it through both the tumultuous rebuilding year and their N.E.W.T.s. Seeing everyone else act unburdened and happy had threatened to overwhelm Hermione in front of witnesses, so she left the hall to pull herself together. As Head Girl, she should probably be mingling with the other partygoers, but she didn't have it in her right now. She took calming breaths and tried to regain her composure. He was at the party. He was at the party and he kept looking at her. After two months of complete radio silence, after two months of him leaving a room whenever she so much as entered it, he was again acknowledging her existence and of course he waited until their last bloody night in the castle to do so. And he just had to be so tall and look handsome while he was doing it too.

Insufferable prat.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted her spiralling thoughts and she looked up in alarm. "Alright, Granger?" his familiar voice asked, sounding hesitant. It was Draco. Of course it was Draco, interrupting her as she fell apart over him. Shit.

She schooled her features into a neutral enough looking expression. At least, that's what she hoped she achieved as she tilted her face up to meet his gaze. "I'm fine Malfoy. How did you find me all the way up here?" she asked, looking around the deserted corridor that was nowhere near any of the festivities. It's not like she was accidentally alone, for the love of Merlin. What does a witch have to do to have a breakdown in peace?

"I was watching you at the party. I saw you leave and followed you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at his unusually direct response. She straightened her spine, although even in heels she could not get anywhere close to his towering height. "Ah. I have to say I'm surprised. After the last two months, I had assumed you'd been rendered magically incapable of perceiving me at all. Because to the casual observer, it appears as though someone put 'notice-me-not' on me, but only as concerns you," she said in a pleasant enough tone, as she glared at him.

Draco flinched, and looked at his feet. "Ah. About that. I was hoping that I could maybe explain myself to you."

She let out a very undignified snort, which prompted a fond smile from Draco, that he quickly dropped. She scowled at him. He didn't get to look at her fondly. At least not without a bloody good explanation and a hell of an apology. "Kind of cutting that close, aren't you? What with us being less than twenty hours from leaving here forever."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I was working up to it, Granger, and it took me a while to summon enough courage. I'm just not as naturally brave as you Gryffindors." His tone was slightly mocking, but his eyes looked nervous. "You want to get out of here, Granger? Get away from the crowd?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

She blinked, trying to process the complete turnabout in his attitude towards her. "And go where, exactly?" she asked with a sigh, already knowing she would say yes, damn him.

"Just a walk down by the lake. It's still light out for another hour and a bit. Please." He held out his hand.

Hermione looked at it for a long moment before taking his hand and using it for balance as she took out her wand to cast charms on her party heels, deciding to turn them into more sensible flats. "Okay. Just let me transfigure my shoes." The shoes were new and not really that well suited to walking at all in her opinion, let alone walking outside by the lake. She was wearing the same red dress she had worn to Slughorn's party in sixth year and she had painted her lips to match. Though it was an old dress, the way it clung to her newly acquired curves made it look like a new dress. She thought it suited her nicely and if she was being honest, she had put it on hoping that Draco would notice her again. Mission accomplished, she thought to herself ruefully. "Let's go," she said, finishing and stowing her wand.

Draco had been staring at her, lost in his own thoughts with his mouth slightly agape as she charmed her shoes and he shook himself slightly at her words, coming back to the present. "After you," he said, as he made a sweeping gesture towards the staircase that would lead to the castle exit.

They walked in silence, no longer touching. Sunset was still a bit off, but it was still fairly late in the evening. It was cooler by the lake and Hermione shivered as a light breeze blew past them. Wordlessly, Draco took off his jacket and handed it to her. She accepted it just as silently and put it on. It smelled just like him — absolutely wonderful. She inhaled deeply at first but stopped when he noticed, her cheeks turning red at having been caught. Draco led her to the other side of the lake. They could see the castle off in the distance on the opposite shore. The sun was just starting to set, casting a beautiful reflection on the lake.

Draco stood a few feet away. Hermione stared at the lake for a long moment, nervously waiting for Draco to speak. At least it was a beautiful view.

"Granger, I want to apologize."

Hermione turned away from the sunset to see Draco staring at her, looking as unguarded as she had ever seen him. She raised an eyebrow. "For what? For kissing me in the potions lab in April? Or for never talking to me again, after you left me mid-snog? Or maybe for becoming my friend in the first place?"

He flinched. "All of it."

"So, shouldn't have become my friend at all, huh? Well, thanks for dragging me all the way out here, Malfoy. I think you could have told me this back at the castle and saved me the walk. Or you know, just continued saying nothing," she replied tartly. Honestly, fuck him.

"I didn't mean that! I'm glad you were — are— my friend. I meant I'm sorry about kissing you and walking away."

Hermione glared at him, still angry. "You couldn't have just told me that sooner? This is our last night at Hogwarts, Draco. Did you just not want this hanging on your conscience after you leave and never see me again?" She let bitterness seep into her tone. Hermione had been so gone for Draco Malfoy. She had been since Christmas break at the least. They had actually been dancing around each other the entire year after coming back to the castle. First, he apologized for everything that had happened during the war - and for his attitude beforehand - which she had accepted. Then they became study partners. By Christmas, they were friends. By February, they were close friends. Good friends, even.

Honestly, in a lot of ways she got along better with Draco than she ever had with Harry or Ron. He understood her interests and could engage with her on a comparable level, even if he called her a swot while he was doing it. Even when he was being just as swotty about whatever obscure branch of magic they were discussing. As his partner in Potions class this year, the realization that Draco was better than her at potions had startled her and was also the single most attractive thing she had ever encountered. Watching him move skillfully and competently around the lab was mesmerizing to her, as his long fingers precisely prepared and measured the ingredients. She didn't understand how she had failed to notice this before — after all, Draco had been in every Potions class she had ever taken at Hogwarts. Perhaps he had been too busy behaving badly for her to have noticed his underlying mastery of the subject? Whatever it was, once she noticed it was all she could see. Eventually, she realized she had to stop looking at him during class time as it got her so hot and bothered she assumed that it was going to be noticed by either him or someone else. After February, she limited herself to no more than two small peeks a class.

And, opposite side or no, Draco understood what it was like to live through the war. Of course, everyone in the castle was traumatized in some way by the preceding years, but very few were in it as deeply or for as long as Hermione and Draco. He understood, from his own deep hurt, that the battle inside didn't end just because the world declared the war to be over. Another thing they had in common.

By Christmas break, she had started to wonder if he could be more than her friend, a prospect she found simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. She began tentatively trying to be closer with him. Sitting a bit closer. Spending a bit more time with him. Willing him to look at her. To notice her. To see her as more than just the bushy-haired know-it-all he'd thought she was during their childhood. To see her as a witch who was worthy of his time.

And once he had finally, finally proved to her that it wasn't in her head, that he felt something for her too — he ghosted her. And just like the other bloody ghosts in the castle, he was still there haunting her. He just wasn't there for her. Until tonight. The last night. When he apparently decided that he needed absolution. She stared up at him, her gaze unflinching.

Draco visibly steeled himself before responding. "Granger, I'm betrothed. I'm to be married next summer. After she graduates from Beauxbatons."

Hermione felt her world tilt on its axis and her heart sank. "Oh," she said, blinking rapidly, wondering how much of her inner turmoil was visible. She briefly contemplated just walking into the lake to avoid having to look at him. Betrothed?

"I don't want this." He spoke in a rush. "I don't want to be married to anyone el — I don't want to be married. This was contracted by my parents when I was five and I cannot get out it. I have fucking tried. All year. I have to do it. It's why I stayed away from you. After. Because I shouldn't have kissed you in the first place."

She thought quickly. Trying all year. "Did you know about it before you kissed me?"

Draco looked at his feet, shame written across his face. "Yes. My parents deigned to inform me just before I came back to school this year. I probably shouldn't even have become friends with you, if I'm being honest. I think I knew in my heart I couldn't be just your friend. But I couldn't resist you, Granger. Merlin, I am sorry if I hurt you."

Hermione laughed without mirth. If. "You did, Draco. You did hurt me. You just stopped talking to me - after leaving me without a single word when you were in the midst of kissing me. I thought we were at least friends, even if I hoped for more. It hurt to not be good enough for you." Again, went without saying. But she was thinking it really hard.

Draco looked surprised at that. "Granger, I don't have a choice about this. But if I had a choice, it would be you." His eyes looked a bit wild as he ran his hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically disheveled and somehow more attractive, which was hardly fair.

Hermione tried to blink away the tears before they formed. She looked down, chewing her lip as she thought quickly. She wasn't alone in this after all. Draco wanted her too, maybe as much as she wanted him. Hermione steeled herself and looked back up at him. "Well, you aren't married yet."

"I am not." He agreed, gaze drifting towards her mouth briefly, before returning to meet her eyes. "But I will be, to someone else."

"Worried about your intended?" Hermione asked, a little testily, raising an eyebrow.

"No. I don't have any feelings towards her. Not really. I don't know her. She might be just as horrified by the prospect as I am. What I am worried about — what kept me from openly pursuing you this year — was taking the shine off of the Golden Girl only for it to look like I left you to choose a pureblood wife. As if I'd ever leave you. As if my choice ever entered into the equation." He spoke with such bitterness, Hermione was taken aback. "I shouldn't have kissed you like I did. I thought I could be friends with you, without it leading to more. But I couldn't even hold back from kissing you. Which is why I stayed away afterward." Draco looked at the ground, shuffling his feet, before meeting her gaze again. "Granger, I cannot offer you anything. I can't be anything to you." His voice held such sadness and longing, that her heart broke for him. For them both.

He was wrong, of course. He was everything to her. Or at least he could have been.

"Well, I don't know if I agree with that," she said hesitantly. His eyes snapped up to hers, with something like hope flickering for a brief instant. Hermione wanted him so badly — more than she had ever wanted anything else. Heaven help her, she knew it would only end in heartbreak. At least, it would for her. But she wanted so desperately to burn herself on his pyre, even if it was only for one night.

After all, nothing lasts forever.

Hermione took a deep breath and spoke quickly before she lost her nerve. "You could have a choice for tonight. If you wanted. If you wanted to choose me. Temporarily. And no one has to know what we do."

Draco's entire posture shifted, becoming predatory and Hermione shivered at seeing the change in his body language. "One night, Granger? And then what? What comes after that?" His voice was silk as he moved closer to her with purpose.

She exhaled shakily. "And tomorrow I'll let you go. We leave each other alone forever, as we go our separate ways and live our predetermined lives. My only condition is that you remember me fondly."

"Hermione —" he whispered her name like it was a prayer, scarcely breathing and she gasped softly. "Are you sure?"

Yes. She could have him for the night, she just couldn't keep him. Hermione had no doubt this was going to ultimately take her down, but at this moment, she did not fucking care.

Her own voice was barely above a whisper too. "I'm very sure."

Draco surged forward, taking her curls in his hands, kissing her again like there was no tomorrow. Apt, she supposed, because for them there wouldn't be. She responded in kind, biting his lip at the first chance she had. If this was only going to happen once, she was going to bite and mark him so he couldn't forget her in the light of day.

If he was going to only be hers for the night, then by God, he was going to be hers.

They separated after a moment, their foreheads touching as they caught their breath. "My room?" she asked, still sounding breathless. He swallowed and nodded, before casting disillusionment charms on them both. They held hands as they quickly made their way back to her room in the castle. Entering her room, Draco had his wand out immediately, casting a finite incantatem on them both in quick succession, as Hermione locked and silenced the room. Visible again, he looked at her with wild eyes, his pupils blown black in the dim light.

"Draco —" she managed to say before he slammed her back against the nearest wall and began to devour her mouth with his own, his hands in her hair again. As by the lake, she gave back as good as she got — loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, while shimmying out of his jacket, all of it forgotten as soon as it hit the floor. The only thing that mattered to her in that moment was feeling as much of him as possible, as soon as possible.

He slid her dress off, leaving her only in her black lace bra and knickers. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her like he was trying to memorize her. "Granger —" he choked out, his expression hungry. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes." She stood in front of him, practically naked and entirely unashamed. Tomorrow, she would leave Hogwarts and act like this never happened. Tonight, he was hers and to hell with the consequences. He responded by picking her up and carrying her to bed, climbing onto her with a groan.

He slipped her bra straps off of her shoulders, reaching behind her to undo the clasp and take it off. She helped, watching him, listening as held his breath until her breasts were revealed before him.

"Look at you. You are fucking perfect. Knew you would be." Draco kissed her neck as he brought his hand up to clutch at her breast, his thumb flicking lightly over her pebbled nipple. She groaned and arched her back, trying to feel more of him. He chuckled and moved down, encasing her other nipple in his mouth, licking and suckling her as she hissed, squirming beneath his attentions.

"So perfect," he whispered, before putting his mouth back on her body, sucking and licking her as his hands caressed her soft flesh. The low timbre to his voice was new, but it was the same voice she listened to greedily all year. The same voice she heard in her dreams. Familiar, but also different, now that he had no reason to hide how much he wanted her too. She revelled at how desperate and raspy his voice sounded, full of the unrestrained lust he had for her.

Draco moved down the bed and slowly pulled off her knickers. Hermione held her breath, watching him. He kissed the inside of her leg, starting at her knee. Draco looked at her as he did so, maintaining eye contact, so Hermione put herself up on her elbows to watch him more closely. She wanted every moment of this burned in her mind, so she could remember everything about what it was like to be with the man she wanted above anyone else. He smirked at her, before spreading her legs widely and pulling her down the bed by her hips.

She hissed as he got closer and licked a long strip from her centre up to her clit. She couldn't hold back her moan. "Dra — Draco," she gasped. He looked up at her with a grin and then began to lick her folds, slowly and deliberately, uttering a deep groan from low in his throat.

"Fuck, Hermione. You taste so good. Fucking perfect." His voice was hoarse. Draco buried his face between her thighs after that, too busy with his task for making small talk. He slowly eased one long finger into her cunt, sliding along her inner walls and easily reaching places she had never been able to get to on her own. Places she hadn't really known existed, as his talented fingers produced sensations deep within her. Soon he added a second finger, which prodded and stroked and coaxed at her inner flesh, moving faster and faster as her trembling moans increased. Her legs began to quiver and soon she was screaming out his name as the coil that had been building and building in her lower abdomen exploded in glorious release. Hermione felt like she was floating, untethered by anything except the sensation of pure bliss that was Draco Malfoy's hand and tongue.

Draco watched her, his eyes filled with lust and fond affection — she couldn't call it love, that would hurt too much. He planted a kiss on the inside of her thigh and left his hand splayed against her belly, as she came back to herself. Once she stopped twitching and gasping, she reached for him. "My turn."

His eyes got wide. "Granger — "

Hermione kissed him to shut him up, tasting herself before she recalled where his mouth had just been. After a brief moment of reflection, she decided she didn't care. She slipped her tongue past his lips and licked at the inside of his mouth, listening to his own moans of pleasure, running her fingers through his hair. She pushed him back onto the bed, so that she was on top, before starting to run her tongue down his body, charting the topography on the way to her ultimate goal.

She licked across his neck, biting his earlobe before going back down to his shoulder. She ran her hands over his chest, lightly tracing his scars. Her tongue followed each line, as he moved his hands through her curls, stroking her through her hair, calling her a good girl. She sat next to him on the bed, hastily gathering her hair up into a bun and using her wand to secure it in place. His erection bounced slightly as she slid off his boxer shorts, giving Hermione the first look at what she was working with.

Hermione gasped aloud when she saw Draco Malfoy's cock in the flesh. She hadn't meant to — but she couldn't hold it back when she came face to face with it in all of its magnificence. Her imagination was apparently too limited. She looked from it to him, with her eyes wide, and was greeted with the smuggest smirk she'd ever seen on his stupidly perfect face.

"Well. I suppose this explains at least some of the attitude," she said mostly to herself, as she reached forward and grasped the base of his cock. He let out a little chuckle that immediately shifted into a hiss as she bent forward and swirled her tongue across the tip, licking the bead of precum there into her own mouth, tasting him. She quickly put the entire head of his sublime cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around as her mouth filled with saliva. She felt him jerk underneath her touch, which caused her to pause and smirk at him. She took him back into her mouth, savouring the feel of him and the sound of his panting moans and barely muttered epitaphs. She put a hand on his thigh and looked up at him through her lashes, to see him looking at her with eyes that blown open with desire.

Hermione used her hands to hold him in place as she started bobbing her mouth up and down, experimenting to see how much of him she could take in. Hermione had only done this once before and her partner had not been this impressive. She gagged and had to stop for a moment, before she went right back at it.

"So good, Hermione." Draco breathed out, grasping at the sheets underneath him with his fists. "Merlin, you are doing so good."

Hermione moaned around his rigid erection, his words causing her cunt to futilely clench around nothing. She tried to relax her throat, so she could take in more of him. His moans, whimpers, and murmured encouragement were stoking her own fire, his display of lust inspiring her own. She kept moving up and down his cock, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat.

"Fuck, Granger!" he choked out and she plunged two fingers into her own pussy, as she tried to ease the ache she felt in her core.

Draco went feral when he saw what she was doing. With a growl, he roughly pulled her off him. "Now, Granger. I need you now." She nodded in agreement as she lay back on the bed, her lips feeling swollen and her cunt spasming with need. Draco reached for his wand and quickly cast a contraceptive charm on her abdomen. Hermione was silent as he worked the magic, her emotions swirling around her in a way she decided she would not untangle until after she left Hogwarts.

Draco lined himself up, rubbing the head of his cock along her slit, gathering moisture from her dripping core. They both moaned at the feel of his cock slipping along her entrance and they both gasped as he started to slowly move inside of her, entering her an inch at a time. Hermione tried to will her body to relax and adjust as his throbbing cock pushed into her, filling her and stretching her in new ways.

Once he was buried to the hilt, they both held still for a moment, groaning at the sensation. She felt so full. She hadn't known it would be like this — or that sex could feel like this — and now she had no idea how she would live the rest of her life without him. Not when she knew this was possible. He kissed her, hurriedly and with a quiet desperation, like he was trying to tell her the things he couldn't say aloud. At least that was what Hermione assumed his kisses meant. It's what hers meant, after all. She returned every desperate embrace, hoping that his skin would understand on a molecular level that she loved him. It was the best she could do because she knew she would never be able to tell him.

And when he started to move, Hermione reevaluated her previous assessment of the prior moment as 'perfect,' because now it felt fucking mind-destroyingly good to feel him move in her body like this. Draco made deep, deliciously hard thrusts into her and he looked at her the entire time. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his eyes, almost black with lust. She reached a hand out and touched the side of his face, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone. "You are so good, Draco," she whispered, meaning far more than just how he was making her feel at that moment.

Draco inhaled sharply and his expression cracked. He looked almost scared for a moment, before burying his face in the crook of her shoulder and snapping his hips into her with an intensity that left her and the bed shaking. She started trembling again, and he moved his hands down to hold her thighs as her body spasmed and she squeezed around him, choking out his name as she orgasmed for the second time, clenching on his still thrusting cock as her eyes rolled back in her head. Draco kept his pace quick and even as he drove home, until with one final, punishing thrust he somehow managed to get even deeper and he came inside her with a roar, clutching her in his arms, gasping out her given name in her ear.

He lay on top of her for a moment, before rolling off to the side and immediately scooping her into his arms. Hermione was still twitching from the aftershocks of her own pleasure. Draco murmured something under his breath she did not catch, kissing her forehead. She traced the scars on his chest with her finger, afraid to speak and put an end to the moment of blissful closeness.

They laid like that for a while. Hermione didn't know how long, but she thought it was less than an hour. She hadn't moved off of his chest and he had been stroking her back — idly at first, but now his movements had become more sultry and intentional. Draco cleared his throat and spoke in a whisper. "Did I only get to choose you for one time, Hermione?" He leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder, moving her hair back away from her face as she turned to face him. "Or is this for one night?" He was looking so deeply in her eyes, that Hermione lost herself in them for a moment, as his eyes glinted silver in the moonlight coming in through her window.

She took a breath that sounded shakier than she would have liked and forced herself to give Draco a smile she did not feel. She would take as much time as he could give her. The inevitable tears could wait.

"Well, I think choosing me for the night means the whole night. And it's not daylight yet."

Their second time was gentle and unhurried, some of the rush gone after their first frantic coupling. This time he was making long, slow thrusts as he lay on top of her, enveloping her. She writhed underneath him, trying to memorize the feel of his weight pining her body down as he fucked her into her mattress. He pulled back, smoothing her hair away from her face and looked deeply in her eyes.

Looking at her like she was a goddess.

Looking at her like she was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Looking at her like she was his whole world.

Hermione felt the tears leak out from the corners of her eyes, unable to hold them back any longer. Not when Draco looked at her like that. Draco kissed her tears away, murmuring apologies that he hadn't been strong enough to stay away. She shook her head at that and used her legs to bring him in closer; as close to her as she could, with his head moving to the crook of her neck and her face buried against his shoulder. His thrusts became harder and harder, and she did her best to bring her hips up to meet him — which was difficult with his full weight against her, but she managed. She raked her nails down his back, probably drawing blood and he bit her shoulder. It was desperate and sad and theirs. They both knew that it was all they would ever have.

So they gave each other everything.

After he came inside her, her name on his lips like a prayer, he kissed her softly and pulled her into his arms. She let her tears fall on his chest. Neither of them spoke. There was an unspoken agreement that they didn't want to disrupt what was left of their night — their only night. They held each other like that, until they had both drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Hermione woke first. She quickly changed into her graduation robes and left Draco asleep in her bed. She had one last day of Head Girl duties to attend to and she'd best get on with it. Besides, she didn't feel right seeing him like this — still naked under her sheets, beautiful in repose with an air of peace she had never seen him possess when he was conscious. It didn't seem right to observe him so, not now that their one night was finished. Even so, she couldn't resist touching his face one last time to push his hair out of his eyes as he slept, the slicked back hair of his youth thankfully a thing of the past. "I love you," she whispered.

She turned her back on him and left, putting aside her own heartbreak so she could fulfill her duties to her school one last time.