"Look what we still have," Granger said quietly, brandishing a small vial of sparkling golden liquid.

A slow grin spread across his face. "We never took the Felix."

A hint of facetiousness tugged at her brows. "We can take it tonight for fun if you want, or we can save it for another time. Felix isn't exactly simple to brew or easy to come by."

"The question, Granger," Draco murmured, "is whether you want to get lucky tonight."

Her eyes widened, a huff of laughter escaping her lips. "Draco Malfoy, that is an excellent question." She tittered for a moment, setting the vial aside.

They had spent the evening outside by the fire again, indulging in food and conversation, but Draco hadn't drank nearly as much as the night before. And when the cool evening breeze had swept in, Draco and Granger had excused themselves up to their room and prepared for bed.

"I'm only joking, of course," he said quietly. "Taking Felix to that end feels like..." He scrunched up the bridge of his nose.

"I know," she returned with a giggle. "Like taking advantage of a situation." Her eyes darted towards his. "And besides... I reckon if I wanted to get lucky tonight I wouldn't need to take a luck potion."

Draco slammed his jaw shut with an audible click of his teeth. Heat flared across the surface of his skin, blood surging through his veins in an instant. His pulse throbbed dully behind his ears.

"Granger," he choked, sweeping a hand through his hair. "You didn't just―"

The words fell off, stifled against her lips, and he drew her closer, indulging in the taste of her.

"Tell me one thing." She broke away, panting, imploring eyes seeking his. "Is this about more than this weekend?"

Draco's lips twisted to the side. "Of course it is." Drawing a deep breath, he held her stare. Theo's words from earlier rattled around his brain and he sought the best of his courage. "This is about as long as you want me around."

Something genuine, a mixture of happiness and sadness, tugged at her brow, and finally a smile stretched across her face, stopping Draco's heart for a flickering moment.

When she kissed him again, every part of him sang with awareness of her. The way her curls felt beneath his hands, the soft touch of her lips, the way her hands skimmed his sides before coming to rest on the line of his jaw.

Kissing her harder, more assertive, he palmed one of her breasts through the thin fabric of her top and grazed her nipple with the pad of his thumb. Withdrawing, he bit down on her bottom lip. When he fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, she met his eyes with teasing warmth.

Draco ducked in, catching her other nipple with his teeth through her shirt, and a soft cry fell from her lips.

"You're going to have to be quiet," he mused against her chest, flicking his eyes up towards hers. "No silencing charm."

"Okay," she breathed, arching towards him. "I can do that."

Tugging the low neck of her shirt aside, he caught her breast with his lips and tongue, and when she released another quiet groan, he smirked. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't mind if everyone hears us."

Briefly, her eyes flashed. "Prat." But she carded her fingers through his hair, positioning his face over her chest once more, and Draco tugged her shirt fully over her head, leaving her upper half bare to his gaze. When he returned his attention to her breasts, she ran her hands along the bare muscle of his back. The feel of her nails dragging across his shoulder blades sent a shudder chasing through him and a groan slipped from his mouth.

"Quiet," she teased.

Draco rolled his eyes, positioning himself above her. Her hands toyed with the waistband of his sleep trousers and he leaned in to trail a line of kisses along her jaw line. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." Her eyes sparkled when they met his again, and she pushed the trousers free of his hips; her eyes widened almost infinitesimally when her palms met the bare skin of his arse and her lips curled upwards. "Do you always go commando or just to sleep?"

Tugging his trousers the rest of the way free, Draco flashed her a smirk. "You'll have to find out, I suppose." He slipped his fingers beneath the waist of her shorts, kissing her deeply again. "And you?"

"Knickers, I'm afraid," she snickered.

He flashed her a grin, enjoying the easy familiarity between them. "I happen to like knickers." Slowly, he dragged the shorts down her legs, leaving her in lace knickers that caused Draco's core to clench with arousal and desire.

Her hand curled around his cock with several slow, firm pumps, and a breath snagged in his throat. Wicked amusement danced in her eyes as she bit down on her bottom lip.

Nudging her knickers aside, Draco slipped one finger, then two, between her folds and into her wet heat, setting a slow, teasing rhythm. Shallow breaths fell from his lips when her grip tightened, and he pulled her into another deep kiss.

Then she pressed something against his chest, and Draco pulled back to find her holding one of the foil packets she'd shown him the night before when they'd been loaded. The Muggle contraceptives.

Draco groaned, dropping his face into her shoulder. "No wand."

"Unless you want to try and convince Theo that sex is an emergency and you need your wand back," she whispered, "we're going to have to make do."

Rolling his eyes, Draco muttered, "I'm not doing that."

Laving another trail of kisses down her chest and abdomen, Draco lingered against the curve of her hip bone, sliding his fingers beneath the band of her knickers, and pulled them down her legs. His eyes darted up to her wide ones before planting a kiss to the interior of her thigh.

"There is no way I'm going to stay quiet if you do that," she breathed.

Draco snickered, dropping another kiss to her stomach. "Another time, then."

When she tore open the foil packet, Draco shifted up, fixing his expression into stoicism. But she simply grabbed hold of his cock once more, and carefully rolled the rubber onto the length of him. He watched, curiosity taking him more than anything, and muttered, "Thanks."

Granger smiled, looping a hand around his neck and bringing him in for a kiss. "Any time."

The feel of it was strange, but he didn't care as he positioned himself against her entrance and pressed inside.

A huff chased from her lips; Draco swallowed thickly. She was impossibly tight around him, and just for a moment, his chest tightened with the feel of her. The warmth in her eyes, and the trust she'd offered.

He eased back and in again, his eyelids fluttering when her hands laced through the hair at his temples. And suddenly, Draco wasn't in any rush. Meeting her lips for another searing kiss, he set a patient, indolent rhythm.

Her soft, breathy cries ghosted off his lips, calves curling around his waist. Awareness of her danced along every fibre of Draco's being.

And when he met her eyes again, drinking in the emotion behind her stare, he didn't know how it had taken him so long to realise what she meant to him. Resting his temple against hers, Draco drove into her, hips rolling with a steady pace as Granger arched from the bed, her nails grazing the muscles of his back.

"Yes, Draco," she breathed, his name from her lips musical and reverent at once, and he almost couldn't stand the way his heart raced in his chest.

Capturing her lips, he drove into her harder still, feeling his nerves begin to tighten and coil with impending release. Her cries fell, muffled against his skin, as she held him close.

At last she tensed, her fingers digging into his back, and he caught her lips with another kiss as she came, her body tightening and trembling beneath him. Draco's tongue tangled with hers, and with several more thrusts his climax swept over as like a wave, alighting every nerve.

He froze, hovering above her on his forearms, breath mingling with hers as his heart rate gradually slowed. His eyes slid open to find hers, a little glassy but sparkling. She kissed him again, slow and patient, her hands soft along his skin.

Draco pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek, and another to her forehead, before carefully withdrawing. After disposing of the contraceptive in the bin, he laid beside her once more, pulling the covers over them both.

Although he didn't know how to put into words the way he felt in the moment, she simply melted into him, her eyes falling softly shut.

Her feet tangled with his, and Draco smiled to himself. "I suppose we can cuddle tonight."

"Good," she breathed, "because my feet are still cold."

Snickering, he dragged her closer into his chest, and idly he wondered if she could feel the way his heart raced. Her smaller form tucked against him as though made to fit, and he swallowed, overwhelmed.

"Good night," he murmured, "Hermione."

Her eyes remained shut but her lips curled into a smile. "Sweet dreams, Draco."

If he could have immortalised the moment, he would have. But only minutes later, he felt the heavy tug of sleep on his eyelids and gave in, sinking in to sleep with her wrapped in his arms.


When Draco stirred awake, it took the entirety of several long moments for the events of the night before to seep back in, one by one. For a flickering instant, he feared it had all been a dream. But the feel of Hermione's curves curled around him brought him back to the present, and a slow grin spread across his face.

He sank back into the pillow, shifting a few rogue brunette curls out of his face, and as he considered going back to sleep, she stirred in his hold.

Hermione's eyes slid open to find his, a touch of nervousness lingering in her face, but she offered a warm smile all the same. "Good morning."

"Morning." Smoothing a hand along the bare skin of her back, following the line of her spine, he released a long breath. She arched towards him, a breath falling against his lips. "How did you sleep?"

"Well, thank you." Her gaze sparkled with the remnants of sleep and she shifted in his arms to stretch with a yawn. "Very well."

A smirk curled his lips. "Good. So did I."

"I think I ought to have a shower," she said quietly, almost as if she were sharing a secret. Although Draco would have liked to keep her in bed with him all day, he reluctantly rolled onto his back to allow her room. His eyes followed her bare back, the curve of her arse, as she made towards the adjoining loo, and she turned her head back towards him. "Are you going to join me?"

Draco's smirk broadened into a grin as he bit down on his bottom lip. "Absolutely."


"It's about fucking time," Theo drawled when they finally emerged from their room shortly before lunch. "We thought to send someone to check on you two but no one wanted to volunteer."

Draco curled an arm around Hermione's front and tugged her against him, looking around the kitchen. Only Theo and Potter sat at the table sipping mugs of tea; the air around them felt tense. "Where is everyone?"

"Outside, mostly," Potter clipped, his expression a little stern as he looked at Draco. "We'll be leaving for London in a couple of hours."

"We were discussing tea," Theo went on, though his tone carried a bite that Draco knew all too well and immediately set him on edge. "Harry wants to use that place off Diagon for the wedding, but I told him about the time we went there and the tea was nasty."

Hermione's eyes darted to his.

"Right," Draco murmured, edging towards the door. "Yeah I remember that, vaguely. I think."

Theo scoffed and shook his head with disgust. "A bloody calamity if you ask me."

He had always been overly particular about his tea.

"Nasty tea is, without a doubt, a calamity," Hermione added, as though in solidarity. Draco could see in her face the effort to withhold a laugh.

Brandishing a hand, Theo nodded. "See? A calamity."

"I don't know," Potter mused, "because I've been there before as well and I didn't find the tea to be bad. A little under-steeped maybe, but that's a variable we'd be able to control for the wedding."

"Under-steeped was the least of their issues," Theo retorted, clucking his tongue. "Never mind the bitterness, the inconsistent temperature from one cup to the next―"

Instantly, Draco understood why everyone else had gone outside. Hermione edged towards the door, her fingers slipping into Draco's hand, and she gave a bit of a forceful tug. Without looking back, they slipped through the door.

Once outside, a glowing sun beamed down on them, and Draco felt the warmth of it bolster his spirits. Some of their friends were around the fire, others further out in the woods, but Hermione turned towards him.

Her face lit with a smile that felt as though she had reserved it for him. "We never went swimming."

"Swimming sounds perfect."


Two Weeks Later

Never before had Hermione been so beautiful, and Draco had spent the better part of the day attempting to keep his eyes off of her. She wore a dusky rose dress to match his tie and boutonnière, and it set off the melted chocolate of her eyes and hair.

Her hair had been pulled back into an elaborate style that tamed most of her curls, but perched atop she wore a pair of small pink butterfly clips.

A gift, he had learned, from her mother. One of the last she had received, before she had cast the charm to remove herself from their memories.

He always found her beautiful, even lounging in his flat, especially curled up at his side in the mornings. But the glow she embodied at her best friend's wedding had an allure that drew Draco's gaze from across the room all day. Although they were both in the wedding party, she had been on Potter's side of the aisle, and for the majority of the day he'd had to observe from a distance.

The wedding itself was perfect, by Theo's standards. And therefore, everything Draco could have hoped for in seeing his closest friend marry the love of his life.

The tea was excellent.

And after the ceremony, Hermione had spent the rest of the day at his side, and all of the other details going on around them became a little hazy.

Despite Theo's ribbing that if there had been a bouquet, he would have thrown it directly at Hermione, Draco didn't know exactly where things would end up. He knew how he felt about her, though he hadn't quite gathered the nerve to let her know. His palms had been sweaty all afternoon at the thought of telling her that night.

But if the sparkle that formed in her eye every time she kissed him was any indication, he liked to think there was a chance for the two of them. Despite a strange beginning, and less than ideal roots, she had become everything he wanted in a frighteningly short time.

True to his word to Theo, Draco hadn't yet gone out of his way to ruin things between them―and Merlin willing, he never would.

They had agreed to finally share the vial of Felix that evening and venture into London―and Draco looked forward to what might come of that.

Hermione walked up at his side, her eyes a little glassy and her balance unsteady in her high heels that nearly brought him level with him, and she slung her arms around his neck.

"Are you enjoying the wedding?" she asked, lips brushing his in a teasing kiss.

"Of course." He met her eyes, smiling. "I've got the most beautiful woman in the room here with me."

She huffed a laugh. "Smooth."

"It's the truth."

Cheeks warming with a flush, she eyed him for a moment. "You can't just go around making comments like that and expect for―"

"Granger."

She fell silent, lips quirking with amusement.

Idly, Draco wondered how he had wound up here―from a weekend spent in the wilderness following a rubbish dance lesson.

And it all began with dirty socks.

Her eyes glinted with the sentiment he longed to speak out loud, and he planted another kiss against her lips. "Shut up and dance with me."


Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading Stag. I hope you enjoyed this little ride.

Alpha creds to Kyonomiko, and a special thanks to everyone who provided the prompts for this story.

This is the list of prompts I had to use:
Felix Felicis; Fake dating; In vino veritas; Polyjuiced cat-Hermione; Dancing classes; Dirty socks; Jealousy; Only one bed; Nifflers; Calamity; Theo in the woods; Sugar quills; Bow ties; Curmudgeon; Twitterpated; Butterfly hair clips; Draco learning about condoms; Tol/smol; Rescue; Lawyer Theo; The tea was nasty; Orange; Ron breaks furniture; Bunny slippers; "For the last time: no"; "But my feet are cold"; "Sometimes we're just loyal to the wrong person"; and "Shut up and dance with me".