Tonight was meant to be low-key. Casual. A trial run in a different environment without the charade of advocacy work looming over them.
Which meant Draco had to check a few impulses.
He didn't send flowers in advance.
He didn't show up on her doorstep to escort her.
He didn't select a restaurant where he'd paid for a private table and discreet entrance through a back door.
That last one he regretted the most.
Draco counted three photographers so far and all he'd done was approach the restaurant by her side and hold the door for her.
Granger kept her head high the whole way, like she did in the courtroom, the halls of Hogwarts, everywhere she went. Form your opinions, it said. I'll act as I please.
Still, Draco felt the polite thing was to at least acknowledge the absurdity of the situation.
"Does that bother you? If there are pictures in the press?"
"No, it's inevitable." She waved a careless hand behind them as they were shown to their table. "I've seen pictures of my work dinners with Sterling plastered across magazine pages and framed as a romantic rendezvous."
"Pansy is rooting for you two."
"Oh for Merlin's sake."
She laughed and it cut some of the unease that permeated the air. They'd interacted in specific, constrained settings together and this new one felt strange for its lack of an objective. Tonight's declared purpose didn't serve her clients, nor their investigation, not his friends nor hers.
Draco understood that their date tonight would just be a small thing. A simple dinner out. A test of a feeling. But it would also be a rather large step on her part. Because Draco appreciated that action of having to re-open, to re-expose a wound. She'd not dated anyone since the break-up months ago, and whatever attraction simmered between them had, until the recent gala, gone unacknowledged.
Granger took a fortifying sip of wine and Draco desperately wanted to assuage her nerves. She'd done the encouraging and he'd done the asking and then she'd completed the routine by accepting.
But it would take a mutual effort to progress things further. A development Draco very much favoured, but based on Granger's mannerisms and uncharacteristic quiet demeanor, he knew she wasn't quite there.
"So, um," she piped up after they'd ordered, "I was thinking about adding a few questions to our interviews."
"We don't have to talk about the programme."
"Oh. Right."
She flicked her eyes down to the table. Draco wondered how often she'd been told to not talk about her career. Like at Hogwarts when he overheard conversations from her two idiot friends telling her they didn't want to talk about schoolwork, or exams, or something interesting she'd read.
"Not because it's boring," he rushed to clarify. "But, well, I know quite a lot about it already."
"Right, of course," she released a nervous laugh. "What should we discuss then?"
Which led to Draco putting forth the following comment: "Your dress the other night. At the gala. I meant to compliment it."
"Oh, um, thank you. And you, in your tux, you looked nice. You should dress that way more often."
"It was… tolerable. I suppose."
Another few beats spent on silently pondering how not to fuck this up.
"What do you do in your spare time?" she asked.
"I see Blaise and Theo when they're not working, make sure neither of them is in need of being committed. Before you helped Goyle out, I'd try to visit Pansy regularly. She doesn't really leave her home, as I'm sure you know. And then attending the charity ball circuit so I can sort out my family's contributions. I check in on my mother but she seems to require less of me these days."
"But what do you do? For yourself, I mean."
It shouldn't be a difficult question to answer. He should have prepared more for this date. He should have come here tonight with a list of dozens of interesting and intriguing facts about himself that would make Granger ever so enthralled by him.
But no, Draco had to face the fact that he was simply a directionless heir with no more plans in sight (the crux of their previous argument). He existed, aimless. No map, no compass, no clear path laid out any longer. Freedom at its most intoxicating and terrifying. There'd been a time in his life where he'd not had any choice, not been given one. And now when he looked at his life all he saw were choices.
"The programme has been a nice change, I suppose."
"Oh please, I'm sure you can't wait for this farce to be over for you. Having to show up to an office, how common," she teased.
"Hmm, true. It does have its perks though."
He'd finally seen an opening and he seized it. He made sure to hold her gaze, made sure to then let his eyes rove slowly from her face, specifically to her mouth, then down to her throat and collarbone before flicking back up to her eyes, toeing the line of brazenly ogling her.
She responded brilliantly: flushed cheeks and a reciprocal heated stare. He'd play a delicate game here of taking it slow for her sake but also letting her know, in no uncertain terms, that he'd be very willing to speed things up, should she desire.
"And what is it that you do with your spare time?" He returned her question, giving her some recovery time. "I can't imagine someone like you having an abundance of it."
"The second I say 'read' you'll just roll your eyes, even if it happens to be true. But I've been making more of an effort to spend time with my own family these days."
Talk of her parents filled a good portion of their meal. It seemed a happy relationship despite the difficulties encountered with bringing them back from Australia and repairing their memories. Granger spoke fondly of them and he wondered how they'd react to knowing with whom she dined this evening.
In an odd bout of coincidence, Granger regarded him thoughtfully and answered his internal question.
"They'd like you, I think."
"Not so sure about that given our… history."
She laughed. "Fair point. I meant they'd like you now."
She cleared her throat. "I like you now."
"Is that so? Care to elaborate?"
"No. Not when you're looking so irritatingly smug."
"I complimented your dress earlier."
"You didn't. You said you meant to compliment it. You didn't follow through though."
"That's quite the astute observation solicitor Granger, trapping me on a technicality."
Her face blanched. "Sorry," she said hurriedly. "I wasn't… oh my God I just tried to lawyer my way into a compliment."
She took a desperate gulp of her wine.
"Calm down, you looked stunning."
"Thank you."
"As you do this evening."
"Thank you, but you don't have to—"
"Merlin, spare us the meek little dormouse act, you're too bold for that. It's just me."
Her eyes widened and he saw her cycle through several reactions: embarrassment, indignation, and eventually landed on mischief.
"Fine," she said and downed the rest of her wine. "Thank you for finally noticing the effort I put into my appearance for you. And I'll have another glass I think. Since you're footing the bill."
As this was only a first date, and still a cautious one at that, the evening ended after dinner with Draco escorting Granger to her front door.
She'd regained more of her usual confidence after her second glass of wine, but her nerves returned as she looked up at Draco and struggled with how to say a simple goodnight.
"I'm horrendously out of practice at all this," she rushed out with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders, "but I'd like to see you again some time."
"You'll see me Monday."
"Outside of the office."
"Hmm, do you have any trials coming up? I could come watch again."
"I don't mean in a professional setting."
"Perhaps we'll run into one another at one of those ghastly galas I'm always attending."
"You're really going to make me ask, aren't you?"
"I require clarity, Granger. As a steward of the law you must know how important our words are and anything less than absolute—"
"Would you like to go out next Friday?"
"I would."
She kissed him on the cheek. Her lips moved to his ear. "Thank you for a lovely evening."
Draco thought of her while awake that night. He didn't remember what he eventually dreamed about when he woke, but he did recall the feel of Granger's lips on his skin.
A pretty blush stained her cheeks when she greeted him Monday morning (yes, another unnecessary office trip) but otherwise their dynamic remained unchanged while they worked.
Or rather, she worked and he scrambled to find another theory other than the current one that beat against his brain, that formed a weight on his chest. The knowledge he held inside. No, the possibility, he corrected himself, as "knowledge" implied something certain, something based in fact.
The wand measurements were just a coincidence. And Draco wasn't supposed to tell anyone about their little investigation anyway, so confronting Theo would have been a bad move.
He looked over at Granger. Head bent, insubordinate curls brushing the parchment she read, determined in her quest to find alternate ways to access Flint for questioning again. While Draco sat some feet away from her, not holding up his end of their initial bargain. All she'd ever asked of him was honesty.
Unsure if he was about to perform a betrayal of his friend, Draco offered a half-measure to temporarily appease his irritating conscience.
"I had an idea. I think," he swallowed then ploughed on. "I think what we're looking at here is an experiment. One done without informed consent of its subjects."
"An experiment?" she repeated and put down her quill. He could see the idea percolating in her mind. She leaned back in her chair and stared, unseeing, at the far wall. Every memory, every conversation, every report she'd studied: she flicked through the catalogue of months' worth of work to confirm or deny Draco's proposition.
"But how? But…" and he saw her brilliance carry her away. She hurried to his desk and snatched up his notes, then paced as she read through them.
"Draco… this is… yes, I see you've noted the different divisions… I think that's the control group… and the timeline… yes, you've noted that as well..."
Her eyes roved frantically, performing the intake of information at an inhuman speed.
"Oh my God," she whispered and sat heavily in her chair. "How did I miss this?"
Draco immediately wanted to comfort her, tell her she'd not been working with the full deck, but some latent fear held him back.
"This is so familiar… yes, this has happened before," she insisted.
"In the prison?"
"No, of course not, since Dementors were always the guards, it'd hardly be the place for human research gone awry."
She took a sharp breath and ran a hand through her curls.
"We could cite Nuremberg… Tuskegee… this sort of thing, a blatant abuse of ethics in research… we've seen horrific examples of this before. But if we got the ball rolling and tried to get permission for another investigation… oh but damn, we wouldn't even be able to use the Muggle cases."
"Why not?"
"The Wizengamot doesn't allow for those arguments to be heard since they concern Muggle law or rulings."
"But it seems like it's directly applicable. Isn't there some sort of human rights workaround?"
"There's definitely war-crime related codes, but this isn't war. The closest scandal our world has are the infamous Squib Experiments that took place under Millicent Bagnold's leadership."
"What happened?"
"Similar to the Muggle examples, the participants did not have informed consent. Unspeakables told parents of Squib children that if they drank certain potions, they'd have their magic restored."
"Let me guess, that was a lie."
"Correct," she said grimly. "They were testing the effects of a so-called 'magical ability' potion that they wanted to eventually give to Muggles, but at least our laws protect them, and I won't even get into why that notion of research is disturbing and horrifying on so many levels. Some of the children ended up horribly disfigured, and well… I'm sure you can imagine the mental and emotional toll this took on families. One of the researchers leaked a memo about the false premise and it blew the whole thing open. It was a huge scandal, it took down some top Ministry officials and Bagnold resigned as Minister because of it, despite the popularity she had for holding office during Voldemort's first downfall. We need some of these prisoners to talk."
Granger's eyes widened and she got up to do laps around the room again.
"My God, if this is similar… it'd be… just huge… just… I can't do this, I'm going to muck it up and I should just go back to my other cases on creature laws or privacy laws or ones where lives aren't at stake—"
"Stop it, Granger, that's not what's going to happen," he attempted to mollify her. "You're going to be brilliant if and when this thing comes to light."
"I can't—I'm not—I'm just—"
Draco stood and stepped in front of her to cut off her manic movements.
"Do you know what it's like to watch you in the courtroom?" he asked softly, injecting calmness into the air, hoping some of it would affect her.
She shook her head.
"You command it. You pull everyone in towards you and part of me suspects you have no idea."
Fuck, he could kiss her in this moment; as she parted her lips in slight surprise at Draco's earnest, soothing praise.
"So perhaps the court won't grant you the decisions you want, or perhaps this investigation never gets off the ground," he continued, "but never, not for one single minute, believe that it is because of your inability to perform well. You have no idea how loud you are."
Her brow furrowed. "Oh, should I be speaking softer? I'm not trying to shout during my arguments."
Draco chuckled. "No, it's nothing to do with your volume."
He touched his fingers to his temple. "You make people hear you. They've no choice but to listen. You can't begin to understand what goes on up here with how you just get louder, and louder. There's no escape, no refuge."
Draco let his fingers fall away. He took her hand and placed it against the side of his head.
"Can't you hear it?" he pleaded.
She shook her head again.
"All this time, I thought it was meant to torment me. But no. No, Granger, it fills my head up, but it's the sweetest fucking sound."
The almighty Hermione Granger. A steady, constant beating within him that he couldn't possibly ignore, and didn't think he wanted to anyway.
"Are you sure you don't have tinnitus?"
Draco laughed as her fingers fell away. She reversed their positions, bringing his hand to the side of her face.
"You're the opposite for me. You… you quiet everything," she said in a hushed tone. "When I'm around you, it's like a sound that takes over and everything else just falls away. And I can… I can remember who I am and what's important to me. Everything else is just noise but you… you make it go away. And then I'm left with this startling clarity."
Gods, her lips looked so fucking kissable. As if they'd softly comply with the demands of his mouth and then command in return. Yielding and sweet or bruising and retaliatory, either way Draco needed to know how they felt, how they tasted.
But he was not going to have his first kiss with Granger in the middle of the work day in this drab legal office.
A knock sounded on the door, but neither of them moved.
"That'll be Harry," she said after a beat.
Draco stepped back as she called "Come in!"
But he hadn't stepped far enough away based on Potter's pause before entering.
"Hi Harry!" Granger said brightly and though Potter raised his eyebrows, he merely replied with a neutral, "Hermione."
Draco received a nod. He'd forgotten Potter had planned on stopping by to discuss some of their findings.
"No Angelina today?"
"'fraid not," said Potter grimly. "Robards is keeping a close eye on us still, it's hard for us to go anywhere together that isn't deemed 'official Auror duties.' It's hopefully nothing, but just in case, I Floo'ed home first and then to your reception area."
Something sparked inside Draco at Potter's innocuous statement. After Ginny's intrusion, had Granger only left her personal office Floo open to Draco? More trust she'd instilled in him. More trust he might be betraying by staying silent about Theo.
"I've only got about 20 minutes to spare here unless I want to get interrogated," continued Potter.
"I'll make it quick then. You recall the difficulty we had with Flint? Well, Draco's just found a new angle for us. I couldn't believe it, it's fantastic, the insight he was able to pull from just the pieces—"
She complimented him no less than eight times in the ensuing minutes. Draco counted. Potter probably did too, as his face grew more and more resigned the longer Granger enthused about Draco's "brilliant investigative work."
Potter turned to Draco. "Your friend Nott, he works in the DoM."
"And?" asked Draco as his heart rate spiked.
"Can't we ask him to poke around?"
Granger jumped in with a scoff. "Harry, he's an Unspeakable, he's under an oath. And we can't just ask Theo to 'poke around,' honestly."
"Why not?" countered Potter. "He could help if he asks the right questions."
Granger acted as a deflectionary shield for Draco once more. "And what happens if he tips off the wrong person to what we're investigating? We couldn't give him any hint of what we're doing or he could say too much and they'll be able to cover their tracks. We have to keep this close to the chest for now until we know for sure."
Potter nodded resignedly and Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the way he'd just allowed Granger to buy himself more time.
"Right, so uh," Potter coughed and shifted his eyes between Granger and Draco. "Anything else I should be made aware of? Any other new developments?"
Draco rolled his eyes and stood. "I'm getting myself a cup of tea."
He couldn't resist leaving the door ajar. An impulse he was glad of when he returned from the tea cart to linger outside and hear Potter grilling Granger about their present more-than-collegial-not-quite-romantic-but-perhaps-soon situation.
"…something with him?"
"It's nothing. I mean, it's not nothing, it's just… you know it's only been the one date and we work together, sort of, and—"
"Hermione, I don't care, you know, if that's what's happening here."
"Ron cares. He sent me a Howler when he saw the pictures in the Prophet."
Potter groaned. "He had no right to do that. I'll talk to him."
"Don't, Harry. I don't want to put you and Ginny in the middle."
"That doesn't mean we can't call him a git when it warrants it. You've been broken up long enough, he needs to be more mature."
"Yes, well, maybe if you felt like reminding him that I haven't said a word about his very public dates with new women, I suppose that would be helpful."
"Noted."
"And that's it? No further commentary from you about Draco?"
Potter sighed. "Ginny has quite a lot to say, none of which I care to repeat, especially sober and in the middle of a work day. Or actually, ever. The woman is shameless."
"Don't dodge my question."
"Hermione, I don't… Jesus, look, I dragged him into this whole thing in the first place, so I dunno… that should tell you enough, I guess. If you're ready to be with him, then be with him."
"Harry, it's only been one date, it's not like we've shagged or even kissed for Merlin's sake—"
"Gross."
"—there's just all this tension and it's becoming unbearable and I don't know how much longer I can wait before I—"
"Nope, that's it. That's my limit, I'm leaving. Date him or don't, just be happy and never speak to me about this again and maybe Floo-call Ginny or something. Christ."
Draco backed away just in time as Potter exited the office. A momentary shared gaze before Potter strolled by him with a raised eyebrow.
"Meant what I said Malfoy."
June 5, 2004
Draco fucking loved his birthday.
Granger answered the door draped in a blue-grey gown. Rippling silk that clung to her body.
Tonight she'd be on his arm at some soiree for some cause he could no longer recall. Thoughts of how that exquisite material might look piled on her floor reigned supreme instead.
"Happy birthday."
"Thank you."
He stepped inside her home for the first time. They'd now gone on three successive dates, each one ending in a lingering peck to his cheek and a request if he'd like to see her again. In a non-professional setting. He, of course, unfailingly responded in the affirmative. They never discussed anything date-related at her office, but stares certainly lingered, blushes often coloured her cheekbones, and speaking voices adopted softer, lower tones.
She cast an appraising eye over his attire. "I see you opted for Muggle formal wear again."
"I was advised to dress this way more often."
"I'm surprised you listened."
"Bold of you to assume I was speaking of you."
She chuckled. "Oh? Was there someone else you were looking to impress tonight?"
"Just you."
He'd stopped teasing so she stopped laughing.
She stepped up to him. It may have seemed another small thing, but this bravery was a monumental act of pushing herself just a bit more. He stayed still, letting her approach on her terms, at her speed.
Granger tested each step in the lead-up to kissing him; paused in each little moment before progressing.
First, she conquered the proximity. Toe to toe with him and took an inhaled, steadying breath.
Then she tilted her head up. One breath.
She braced one hand on his chest. Another breath.
The other hand on his bicep. A few breaths this time.
She paused at this step the longest. He gave her an encouraging countermove of placing his hands at her waist.
She finally surged forward and granted Draco his first taste of her.
He never wanted to dream again.
Draco could Floo to Theo's right now and demand he cast, as specifically as he could, the precise feeling of being kissed by Hermione Granger.
It wouldn't feel a tenth this good. It would annoy him, possibly infuriate him, to be trapped in a dream state when reality could deliver this euphoria.
Her soft lips were tentative in their introduction, another brief test to see if a sample warranted more.
It only took a mere blip of time with their lips joined for Granger to decide she very much wanted more.
What had begun as a light brushing of lips increased in pressure, and he let her mouth part his and take anything she wanted. Not to say Draco wasn't an active participant in this venture, but he waited for Granger to move her mouth to follow her rhythm, waited for the sweep of her tongue along his bottom lip before answering in kind.
She brought them to a slow, lazy conclusion. Her lips loitered against his, dawdling at the point of departure, delaying their separation.
She pulled back only a fraction, eyes opening in a stuttering reignition of their ability to perform one of their basic functions.
"I thought I could wait until later," she whispered.
"What for?"
"After a little liquid courage, I suppose. Let the tension build over the course of the gala."
"Sod the fucking gala."
He flexed his hands at her waist, luxuriating in the warmth of her through the thin layer of silk that separated their skin.
"Well, it is your birthday, so I guess we can let you decide what you'd like to do."
"There are many things I would like to do. To you." He punctuated this statement with a peck to the corner of her mouth.
"Actions over words."
Her full bravery unleashed at last.
Draco grabbed her by the back of the head this time to show just how eagerly he planned to fulfill such a demand. He indulged in anchoring his grip in her hair, in delivering not just simple kisses, but nibbles and bites to her lower lip. She responded in her own way, as Granger always had a response to him—be it a returned insult, a toss of her hair, a huff of annoyance—but Draco could say he rather preferred this response of her tongue in his mouth and her lithe frame pushing against him, small fists bunching the material of his jacket.
But before he could introduce his hands to other areas of her, she jolted out of his grasp and rushed to her coffee table. She held up a Galleon.
"Sorry," she apologized breathlessly. "I was supposed to reply to Harry to tell him we were on our way and he's rather prone to being a Mother Hen over me these days."
"Ah, still using that method of communication?"
"Well I did invent it."
"Mmm, I recall, unfortunately. May I see it?"
He took the offered coin, then his wand, and charmed a reply to Potter.
Smirking, he returned it to Granger and her eyes widened as Draco assumed a string of expletive-ridden replies from Potter started arriving.
"Oh I should have known you'd do something to rile him up!" She fumed. "What did you write to Harry?"
"I said you were coming. Just not to the gala."
She dropped the coin.
Their movements met in the middle as they both hurried to close the unnecessary distance between their bodies.
Frantic and messy and fucking delectable.
He'd been half-kidding about skipping the event (some charity initiative he still couldn't recall and on a Thursday, no less) but now he knew that literally nothing could make him leave this situation he found himself in at present. That situation being one hand in Granger's carefully styled hair and the other sliding a dress strap off her shoulder as they kissed.
He moved them forward, looking for the nearest hard surface to press her against, to press closer, tighter, snuff out any and all space that separated them. Draco filled his mouth to the brim with her, the kisses she doled out answered by his demand for more.
They undressed like a polite conversation: your turn, my turn, and now yours again.
She pushed his jacket off his shoulders. He slid her other dress strap down. She untied his bowtie. He tugged her hair loose from its clip. She undid his waistcoat. He slid his hands around to her back in search of her bra clasp (fucking Merlin, he found none). She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed that off him too.
Draco lifted her onto the counter and grabbed her by the backside to pull her flush against him.
All he could hear was her. Not that that was any different from normal inside his own head. But now all he could hear were her gasps. Her panting breaths that said she really fucking needed this release, that she wanted him to make her act this emboldened. He hiked up her dress and let her grind into him and moan, kiss every part of his neck she could reach with her lips. She'd ruin her makeup, ruin her hair, ruin her dress, and ruin him.
The incessant sound of her could only be cured by her. She functioned as her own antidote.
She'd thoroughly familiarised herself with his hair and now became acquainted with more of his body. Confident touches skimmed down his chest, roving over faint pink scar tissue and then came to an abrupt halt.
Her hands trembled at his belt buckle.
"Sorry," she said with an embarrassed laugh. "It's just been a while for me since I've—"
"Me too."
A shared vulnerability.
Draco tilted her chin up, away from her present cause for apprehension. "This is your call."
But she set her mouth in a determined line and kept at her task. It took her a few more tries to undo his belt. Her shaking fingers rested at his waist. Draco covered them with his own.
"We don't have to—"
"I want to. I really, really want to—" She suddenly laughed again. "Oh God that sounded so desperate and pathetic—"
"No. It sounded really fucking hot."
He picked her up again, her legs wrapped around his waist.
"Bedroom?" he muttered into her neck.
"Down this hall here. Second door on the left."
"I was asking if you wanted to move there but I suppose that answers it."
More turn-taking as he laid her down on the bed. She shimmied her dress off, he shoved his trousers down and kicked them away.
Draco may have pinned her beneath him, but they pulled at each other; caresses of discovery followed by impatient touches and insistent grabs once a new swathe of skin had been properly introduced.
"Are—we—dating?" She asked between kisses.
Draco moved his mouth down to her throat. "If you like," he said and descended further down to her collarbone. "I'm certainly in favour of the notion."
"Good."
He took a leisurely journey back up to her ear.
"Per our earlier discussion, any particular ah, actions, you would prefer this evening?"
"A Contraceptive Charm."
"I meant—"
"I know what you meant, now cast the charm and get inside me."
He wanted to oblige immediately, and regretted having to leave her mostly naked and writhing beneath him to fetch his wand from her living room.
For a moment he hovered in the doorway to her bedroom, sure that the no more than thirty-second pause in the proceedings would be enough time for Granger to rethink this decision.
Draco loved being wrong. Sometimes. Particularly this time.
She saw him standing at the threshold with his wand in hand and erection tenting his boxers, and responded with a smile as she peeled off her knickers.
Yes, being wrong was such an excellent thing.
He covered her body with his again, muttered the charm, and tossed his wand aside as Granger clutched his shoulders for support.
As he eased inside her, the grip on his shoulders increased in pressure to the point of pain as her nails dug into him.
"What do you need?" he asked hoarsely, desperate for this to feel as sublime for her as it did for him.
"I'm fine, it's just a bit tight. You're, um… a lot to accommodate."
He pistoned his hips slowly, then stopped thrusting altogether when her nails still pierced and kissed her instead. His mouth took possession of hers, then her throat, then her breasts. She whined for him to move, but he held off, working her up to a begging, fevered state and only acquiesced when her grip relaxed and she impatiently shifted her hips beneath him.
He swallowed her down, seeking to satiate his thirst, but she kept giving a well of such divine offerings that he'd soon be dazedly drunk off her. He thought his mind would quiet if he sated himself with her; of her noises both voluntary and involuntary. If he drank her down he could temper whatever the fuck was happening in his mind, or perhaps she ran deeper and had seeped into his soul.
Draco decided that he'd been all wrong once more. As he'd told her himself, she was the sweetest fucking sound in his head, so what was the point of wanting to quiet it? He never wanted to know silence again.
Instead, he wanted to only know the sound of Granger gasping for air, of the wet sound of her open-mouthed kisses against his neck, the soft slap of skin sliding against skin, and best of all, her short-winded statements:
"That feels good."
"Right there. Please."
"You can go faster, if you want."
It took diligent attention to her nipples with his tongue and the zealotry of his fingers between her legs to finally have her whisper-shout his name as she threw her head back against the pillow. Draco barely held on as she climaxed, and the second he felt her body start to slacken, he let himself release.
They lay in bed together afterwards. She ran her fingers along his arm in a soothing up and down motion. They couldn't seem to stop touching each other, even in their physically depleted state.
Her fingers stilled on the unfortunate black ink on his left forearm. She appeared pensive rather than disgusted.
"What made you change, do you think?"
"Lots of things," Draco replied honestly. "Little things and big, horrific things. But it's those little things that can cause you to think differently."
"Like what?"
Draco traced a finger down her cheek.
"How you beat me in every class, how you had such command over your own power. And then," he now traced the spot on her arm where he knew a scar existed beneath a Glamour, "bigger things that showed me I'd had it so wrong for so long."
She rewarded his solemn candour with a kiss; the deep and languid kind that meant he could initiate these kisses in the future and she'd approve.
"It's still your birthday for a few hours. Did you want to show up fashionably late?"
"Not at all."
"I didn't get you a gift."
"Will you resort to violence if I make the obvious joke about getting to unwrap you?"
Her face drained of colour.
"This wasn't… I wasn't trying to… I mean, that's rather problematic, I wasn't 'gifting' you sex as if I didn't really want this too, I didn't feel obligated because it's your birthday or anything."
He kissed her to shut her up.
"Stop overthinking. We can have sex on days that aren't my birthday too if it will make you feel better."
She laughed and he relished in the victory of it.
With no plans to show up far too late to some stuffy, boring party, Draco thought it best to take his leave. Having him stay the night did not seem to be a step she wanted to take just yet, and Draco had his suspicions that such an act would feel more intimate for her than the one they'd just performed.
"Will this… complicate things?" she asked as she walked him to the front door.
"In what way?"
"The investigation. The programme."
"I don't see how."
"Well if we're ah, together, it could… blur some lines… at the office."
"Why Granger are you saying you won't be able to control yourself around me at work? Should I stay away for your own good?"
"Don't you dare," she said sharply, but then added a quiet, "I like being around you."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow morning."
A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be on July 20. You can find me on tumblr: heyjude19-writing.