DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own these characters.
"This is a one time thing," Hermione breathed as his mouth latched onto her neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure down into her belly. She couldn't keep the moan from her lips and his hands gripped her tighter. "One time," she gasped.
"You said that last time," Draco said as he smiled against the skin of her throat and grazed her pulse point with his teeth. "And the time before that." He nibbled her ear.
"I mean it this time," she said, gripping his collar and shoving him back. He kept hold of her waist and smiled devilishly down at her. "Stop smiling like that," she said, fighting her own smile.
Slowly he pulled her closer, his hands moving from her waist to push her unruly hair off her cheeks as he held her face between his palms. He stared at her for a long moment and then leaned forward, her breath catching in her throat. "Make me," he said, and she laughed once before he was on her again, his mouth hot and insistent as her fingers found the soft strands of his hair.
Breathless, Hermione fell back onto her bed, his body heavy and warm on top of hers, and she sighed as he peeled her clothes away.
*One month earlier…
"I don't want to go out tonight, Gin," Hermione said with a huff as her ginger—haired roommate primped and preened in their small bathroom mirror. "Your brother will most likely be there and I'm honestly not ready to see him with his new girlfriend."
In the mirror, Ginny rolled her eyes as she applied some golden dust to her cheeks that sparkled magically—the latest in George's newest makeup line. "That's exactly why you have to come," she said, glossing her lips and smacking them together once. "We'll make him regret ever asking her on a single date." She smiled at Hermione and waggled her eyebrows. With a roll of her eyes, unable to keep the smile from her face, she nodded and Ginny clapped her hands together joyfully.
Less than an hour later, Hermione was standing in front of the same mirror regretting her decision fully.
"I look ridiculous," Hermione said as she tugged at the neckline of the periwinkle cocktail dress Ginny had dressed her in. The neckline swooped low and the sleeves fell off her shoulders. It was fitted—and tight—all the way to her waist where it loosened into a swishy skirt that fell midway between her knees and hips. "He'll see and know why I'm wearing this." She tried to tug her neckline up a little only to have to tug the hem of her skirt down.
"Precisely," Ginny said, smiling over her shoulder. "And if he tries to talk to you, you'll shoot him down, leaving him wanting so much more." She smirked. "After that, he'll come crawling back."
Hermione took a deep breath and nodded, making Ginny squeal with delight.
The pub was packed when they arrived. It was New Years Eve and Hermione instantly regretted coming. Everyone was paired off in couples. Midnight was only a couple of hours away. Ginny said she only had to stay long enough to catch Ron's eye, get him to try and talk to her, and then she could go home and curl up with a good book.
She was worried finding him would be impossible. She'd been sitting with Ginny, who was chatting up some quidditch players, when she decided that she just couldn't sit still anymore. Pushing through the crowd, she got up to get a drink.
She slipped through the people, watching her feet to avoid tripping, when she collided with a solid chest.
"Oh, I'm so sorry—" she said, looking up, only to have her heart stop. "Ron," she breathed, taking a step back as her cheeks heated.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, his eyes foggy with drink. "What are you doing here?" he asked. His eyes raked over her and went wide. "You look different!" he said.
"Ron," she said, hating that her voice shook. "I didn't realize you'd be here," she lied.
"Oh, yeah," he said, ducking his head and pushing his shaggy red hair off his forehead. "I, er—"
Ron's date chose that moment to show up, pushing through the crowd, cheeks red, to fall against his chest. He caught her, eyes going from her to Hermione as they opened wide.
"Where did you go?" she breathed, gripping his shirt. Her dress was so short Hermione could see the edge of her underwear.
Hermione felt embarrassment well up inside. If this was the kind of girl Ron wanted to be with, there was no way she would ever be able to compete. Her cheeks bloomed crimson as Ron's girlfriend stepped up onto her toes to whisper in his ear and his ears flamed.
Hermione had to get out of here. Her vision was starting to tunnel.
"It was good to see you," she squeaked out, immediately wishing she hadn't, as Ron's girlfriend—whose name she'd forgotten—turned and glared at her. "I'm just going to—"
"You can join us," Ron said, earning him a sharp glare from his girlfriend. "If you want." He looked down at her cleavage, then immediately back up to her face, and even though she wore the dress for that very reason—to get his attention—she was suddenly filled with anger. If all it took was a little skin to make him interested again, she wasn't sure she wanted his attention at all.
"What about your date?" the girl asked, and Hermione's anger leaked away like water pouring from a broken faucet.
"My—" Hermione stuttered, eyes wide.
"Surely you didn't come here alone," the girl said, pressing herself into Ron's side. Hermione saw Ron's hand go to her waist, just above her bum.
"I—" She looked up at Ron, who looked confused. "I—"
"Granger!" Draco Malfoy's voice at her right shocked her into absolute silence. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to." He slipped his arm around her waist, his hand coming to rest lightly on her hip, as he placed a chaste kiss to her temple.
"Malfoy—" she stuttered, and he smiled down at her with a wink.
"You said you'd only be gone a moment. Not sneaking off, are you?" He squeezed her waist and his eyes widened slightly and something in her head clicked. Somehow, some way, Draco Malfoy was rushing to her rescue.
"I got caught up talking," she said, hoping she was reading him right.
Malfoy turned to Ron—who was very red—and his date and acted startled, as if he hadn't realized they were there. "Weasley, I didn't see you there." He smiled and gradually slipped is hand up Hermione's arm, his fingers light, causing goosebumps to erupt along her skin. She glanced up at him almost shyly and saw a smirk ghost over his lips. "Who's this?" he asked, nodding to Ron's date as his arm came to rest across Hermione's shoulders. He plucked a single curl from her shoulder and twirled it around his long, pale index finger.
"Mione," Ron said, pulling away from his date slightly. "Are you—"
"Hermione?" Draco asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. "No, this is Hermione," he said, tugging her closer, earning a surprised giggle from Hermione, which surprised them both.
Ron scowled and stood up straight. He gritted his teeth, but he didn't answer the question.
"Aimee," the girl said, obviously shifting away from Ron. "My name's Aimee." She offered Draco her hand and he took it, lifting it to his lips to press a light kiss there. Ron's scowl deepened.
"Ron was just inviting us to sit with them," Hermione said as she looked up at Draco. Her eyes were wide and she willed him to understand that she couldn't—wouldn't—do that.
He smiled down at her, then looked up at the clock on the wall. "As lovely as that sound," he said, turning back to Hermione, "we have a reservation to make. We can't ring in the New Year in all this noise and smoke, not when a five star meal awaits."
Hermione felt herself relax. She would have to think of a way to thank Draco for this someday. She could already feel the comfort of her fuzzy pajamas and broken in couch calling her name.
"You're not serious," Ron said, as Aimee crossed her arms over her chest.
"About dinner?" Draco asked, looking confused.
Ron kept his eyes on Hermione. "You're not seriously leaving with the ferret, are you?"
At this, Hermione rolled her eyes. It had been years since they graduated and in that time, amends had been made. After graduation, Draco had sought them out one by one to apologize. For Hermione, he'd gifted a large donation to multiple charities that she'd supported, then published an article about the importance of equality among all wizards and witches. After all that, only Ron still held a grudge toward the man who'd once been a terrible boy.
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, standing taller as Draco's hand slipped around her waist, his fingers lacing with hers. "I hope you enjoy your evening."
His mouth dropped open, but Draco didn't give him a chance to respond. With a nod at them both, his hand firmly in Hermione's, he walked away letting the crowd separate them. He led them outside and the cold night air was both refreshing and shocking. It wasn't until they'd walked away from the pub a bit that Hermione pulled her hand away and stopped to face him.
"Malfoy," she said, smiling from a few feet away, "I don't know why you did that back there, but thank you." She crossed her arms to ward off the sudden chill she felt.
"No need to thank me, Granger," he said, rocking back on his heels as his hands slipped into his pockets. "You looked like you needed an exit and I took a shot." He smirked at her. She was grateful for the darkness as she felt her cheeks heat.
"I did need the exit," she said, at a loss for words. They stood in silence for a long, awkward moment. "Well," she said, clearing her throat, "I wouldn't want to keep you from your actual date," she said, nodding back toward the pub. "I have a good book and some comfortable pjs at home waiting for me."
Draco narrowed his eyes and his smirk grew. "I thought we were having dinner," he said.
"What?" Hermione asked as her eyes went wide. "I thought that was just for show."
"It was," Draco said with a shrug, his white—blonde hair falling artfully over one eye. "But now that we're here, why not take advantage of the ruse and enjoy a nice meal?"
"What about your date?" she asked, feeling a smile threaten to overtake her.
"I didn't bring a date," he said, taking a step closer.
"A nice meal, you say?" she asked, feeling a strange giddiness well up inside at the thought of doing something as reckless as having a meal, alone, with Draco Malfoy.
"A celebration of your escape from that hapless maroon," he said, nodding toward the pub, "and I promise to have you home to your book and pajamas by midnight." He winked at her and she felt something small inside wither, but she brushed it off. He offered her his arm and lifted his eyebrows. "What do you say?"
Hermione looked up at him, then slowly took his arm with a smile.
The dinner was delicious—scrumptious seafood in rich sauces followed by various icy fruits and far too much chilled dessert wine. By the time they'd eaten, it was less than half an hour until the new year.
They'd spent the meal talking and laughing—mostly at Ron's expense—and after copious amounts of the wine, Hermione felt relaxed and filled with the desire to take a risk.
"I suppose I should make sure you get home safely," Draco said as the last plate was taken away. He offered her his hand and she took it without hesitation. "I don't think you're entirely sober."
"Neither are you," she said with a smile and he laughed, big and loud.
"I'll fly us there, then," he said, retrieving a tiny broom from his pocket and casting a wandless, nonverbal spell to bring it back to its full size. "It's a lot safer than apparating right now."
Hermione felt nervous butterflies well up in her gut. She nodded, still terrified of heights, and followed him out of the restaurant. "I live—"
"I know where you live," he said, a blush coloring his cheeks. "It's public knowledge," he clarified, and she bit her lip.
With steady hands, he mounted the broom and scooted back slightly, waiting for her to join him. She took a deep breath and did so, scooting back so that her body was flush with his. She leaned forward and gripped the broom handle, sobering up as her fear of heights—and more specifically of falling to her death—overwhelmed her.
Again it was as if he could read her mind. He scooted marginally closer, his body melting against hers, and his hands covered hers on the handle. "I won't let you fall, Granger," he said, his mouth next to her ear, and she shivered.
The flight to her house was short. Normally, she would have been terrified, but she was too distracted by the way his body felt against hers to notice. When they landed in front of her flat, her heart was racing.
"Safe and sound," he said, his voice husky as he leaned away from her. She quickly dismounted and looked at him, feeling a very dangerous idea welling up inside.
"Do you want to come in?" she asked, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could second guess.
"Do you want me to come in?" he asked, dismounting his broom and stepping closer, his voice low.
"Yes," she said, feeling brave and stupid. A smile lit up his face and he nodded once, that same lock of hair falling over his eye.
"Ok then," she said, turning and walking away, hoping he was following.
Ginny wasn't home, and Hermione threw up a ward that would let her roommate know she had company. She shut the door and turned on the lights and for a long moment they stood in silence, awkward, and Hermione worried she'd made a mistake.
Draco stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels, waiting. She was a moment from laughing and telling him she was tired when she met his eyes. They were like molten silver and something inside her snapped.
The whole night, it was as if he was reading her mind, so it wasn't surprising that when she moved toward him, he moved toward her. Their lips connected and Hermione felt fire spread from that contact all through her body. His hands cupped her face and raked through her hair while she gripped his shoulders and upper arms, thrilling at the solid muscle she found there. His fingers trailed over her bare shoulders and she shivered. He pulled her close then, his mouth moving down her neck as she gripped him wherever she could, gasping for air.
"We can stop whenever you want," he said against the sensitive skin of her throat and she moaned.
"I don't want to stop," she breathed and he groaned in return as his lips found hers again.
Sloppily, they tugged at each other's clothes. His jacket hit the floor. His shirt followed, a button or two springing loose. He eased her zipper down until the dress fell off and landed in a pile one the floor.
It wasn't until they were bare before each other that Hermione took a moment to pause. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his arousal pressing against her leg. Ron's face swam in her mind and she shoved it away.
"This is a one time thing, right?" she asked, looking up at him through her now tangled hair. His own was disheveled and his cheeks were pink and she was struck by the thought that she'd never seen a more beautiful man.
"If that's what you want," he said, his breaths coming in short puffs.
She responded by crashing her mouth against his. He lifted her and her legs went around his waist. Together they fell back onto the couch that Hermione had envisioned an entirely different sort of evening on. He kissed down her body, making her shake with anticipation. His hands were hot and insistent everywhere they touched and all she could do was writhe and grip him wherever she could.
When he finally slipped inside her, stars burst behind her closed eyelids and her fingers cut into the firm flesh of his shoulders. He kissed her, bringing her back to his senses, before he brought her to the crest of pleasure over and over again. They moved from the couch to the bedroom, Draco carrying her, and brought her to the edge again.
Hermione wasn't sure when it happened, but sometime during the night, as they explored each other's bodies, the New Year came and went. When it was finally over, and Hermione was spent, Draco tucked some blankets around her and kissed her sweaty forehead.
"Happy New Year, Granger," he said, and she smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
"Happy New Year, Draco," she said before a yawn overtook her. She didn't see the smile that stretched across his face and was asleep before he'd left the apartment, locking the door behind him.